Journey Home

jardyn39

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 13/04/2005
Last Updated: 26/04/2005
Status: completed

The office that was reputed to hold the most dangerous and unpredictable individuals traumatised from the war is now down to two. Fittingly, they are widely considered to be the most dangerous and unpredictable out of all the previous residents. He has a long way to go, but finally and with a little encouragement, Harry is ready to begin his own journey home. Completed.

Chapters

1. The Clerk

2. The Committee Room

3. Splashing in Puddles

4. The New Boy

5. Fruit Cake

6. Arrangements

7. An Old Friend Returns

8. Champagne

9. Mud

10. Beyond the Edge

11. Battling the Past

12. The Keeper of the Keys

13. Detention

14. Often Soothe We

1. The Clerk

Journey Home by Jardyn39

The office that was reputed to hold the most dangerous and unpredictable individuals traumatised from the war is now down to two. Fittingly, they are widely considered to be the most dangerous and unpredictable out of all the previous residents. He has a long way to go, but finally and with a little encouragement, Harry is ready to begin his own journey home.

Prologue

It is a few months after the final battle. Voldemort is gone, but the casualties were appalling.

Chapter One: The Clerk

Harry Potter threw the used teaspoon unceremoniously into the small sink and picked up the three mugs of tea he’d just made. Turning, he kicked open the door to the small annex and returned to the main office area.

Grimacing as the heat burned the knuckles of one hand, Harry hurriedly placed two of the mugs on the edge of the desk facing his own.

“Thank you,” Arthur Weasley said brightly, immediately picking up a mug.

“Thanks,” muttered Harry’s colleague, turning the handle and dragging the hot drink towards himself.

Harry returned to his own desk and smiled seeing Mr Weasley dive for another biscuit from the plate presented in honour of his visit.

“So what have you two been getting up to?” asked Mr Weasley cheerfully.

“We’ve been carrying on with our investigation,” said Harry before sipping his hot tea, and allowing his glance to fall on the framed picture of Hermione beaming and blowing kisses at him from his desk.

“Investigation?” asked Mr Weasley with interest.

“Yes, the number of suspects has become quite small recently,” said Royce with a smile, looking down the rows of empty desks. The three of them were alone in the long narrow room.

“But what are you investigating?”

“Well, Harry thinks I’ve been hogging all the chocolate biscuits. Of course, I know it’s just an elaborate ruse to throw suspicion from himself.”

“Really?” said Mr Weasley, pausing when he realised he was about to dunk the last chocolate biscuit into his tea.

He quickly disposed of the evidence.

Harry smiled and looked around the now familiar room. There were no windows and the walls were lined entirely with shelves holding an assortment of files. The entrance door was right down the other end, farthest away from where Harry sat. Many pairs of vacant desks, each facing each other, filled the room.

Harry remembered that only a few months before, every desk had been occupied. That was just after the final battle. He came here directly from hospital.

This office was created especially at the Ministry of Magic at the behest of Arthur Weasley. He had to fight to get it set up, and even then the new Minister made no secret that any problems would be Arthur’s responsibility. Harry was particularly aggrieved whenever he heard the Minister trying to take full credit for its success, and insisting that it had been he and not Arthur that had fought to keep it open.

Although the department was supposed to be responsible for filing and records, Harry was sure the mundane records were artificial.

No real work was ever done here.

It was just a place where wizards and witches could quietly, and sometimes not so quietly, come to terms with their experiences during Voldemort’s final days. Hermione had told Harry that it was Post Trauma Stress or something.

Some stayed longer than others.

Arthur would visit regularly, sit and chat. When he was satisfied they were on the mend, he would transfer them onto light duties elsewhere. He showed endless patience and several troubled individuals had to return for a while.

Harry had to agree that this was better than locking people away in a secure ward, although for a long while he was in denial about his own need to be there.

The office had something of a reputation. In the early days, arguments and fights would break out at a moment’s notice. Quite quickly, Arthur and Hermione became the only ones prepared to venture into the company of such dangerous and unpredictable people. Although the room was equipped with dampening charms that made performing magic quite impossible within it, that hadn’t stopped the inmates attacking each other.

There were now only two resident occupants. Fittingly, they were widely considered to be the most dangerous and unpredictable out of all the previous residents.

Harry turned back to observe his colleague opposite as he chatted to Arthur.

While Harry was fighting for his life miles away at Hogwarts, another battle was being waged here at the Ministry in London.

Only Harry had killed or disabled more people than Royce had in the final battle. Harry knew few details of the circumstances. Royce had never spoken of them and Harry hadn’t asked. Indeed, Harry himself had refused to speak in detail about his own experiences to anyone except Hermione.

Royce was a good few years older than Harry. He had apparently never been to Hogwarts and had been employed as a junior administration clerk at the Ministry of Magic. Harry realised he must have been used to younger witches and wizards being promoted ahead of him.

Arthur Weasley had been quite beside himself when he discovered that the Aurors had arrested Royce just after the battle. It appeared they could find no one to corroborate that he was even a Ministry employee, having spent most of his time down in the record department.

Royce’s current wand had been taken from one of the Death Eaters he’d killed.

One of the few things Royce had confided to Harry was that most of his magic was performed wand-less because his family could not afford to buy him a wand. He implied that he hadn’t attended Hogwarts for the same reason, but Harry was sure this wasn’t true.

The only reason he kept the wand, Royce had explained, was in the hope that other witches and wizards might treat him normally.

Harry thought, with some regret, that this was unlikely to happen.

Although Harry had grown to know and like Royce, even he didn’t entirely trust him. Harry had even tried to make Hermione promise not to visit the office unless he was present, especially now that there were only the two of them.

Other witches and wizards working at the Ministry weren’t at all shy about making their feelings known. Terrified of the unassuming wizard, a murmur always greeted him as he passed through the entrance lobby and nobody but Harry was brave enough to share a lift with him.

Even worse, rumours dogged Royce. Most of them alleged that he was trying to attack Ministry employees and that the Death Eaters had just got in the way. Arthur Weasley had once dragged Harry away in fear of him hexing the Minister of Magic after he’d repeated one such rumour in front of him.

As angry as Harry had been, part of him wondered when Royce was going to snap. He had demonstrated an extraordinary and lethal duelling talent during the battle. Surely, Harry felt, it was only a matter of time before he decided to take matters into his own hands.

Harry knew Arthur was worried as well. He had told Harry that he was probably the only wizard skilled enough to fight Royce should it become necessary. He also hoped that Harry’s friendship would influence Royce, especially as none of the Aurors were at all confident about taking him on.

*

Harry returned to the office after visiting the canteen and buying some sandwiches for himself and Royce.

For a long while Royce used to accompany him in defiance of the stares and whispers. However, he recently asked politely for some soup but had only received a terrified scream in response. After that, Royce hadn’t been so keen to join Harry.

The first thing Harry heard as he entered the office was Hermione’s laugh echo through the almost empty room. Harry smiled to hear her. That particular laugh was rarely, if ever, heard outside Hermione’s closest friends, with whom she needed no reserve.

He closed the door and walked back towards them between the empty desks down the long room.

Harry had long since given up making arrangements to meet Hermione for lunch. She invariably cancelled because of meetings that over-ran or reports that needed urgent attention. Instead she would come and find him when she was free.

Hermione was sitting in the chair usually occupied by Arthur Weasley as he munched his way through their biscuits.

Seeing Harry, Hermione got to her feet and said, “Harry, at last! Come on, I’m buying you lunch. I feel like trying one of the cafes outside. Will you join us, David?”

“No, thanks,” he replied smiling and Harry handed him both packages of sandwiches.

As soon as the office door closed behind them, Harry whispered what was troubling him.

“I though you agreed not to come into the office unless I was there?”

She sighed and said, “I felt safe. Besides, don’t you think he’s entitled to some trust? He has earned it, you know. He should have been awarded the Order of Merlin for what he did.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied softly, “it’s just I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

Hermione kissed him gently on his cheek and they entered the lift, arm in arm.

*

“Had a good morning?” asked Harry with a grin as they sat choosing what to have for lunch.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and slipped her coat onto the back of her chair.

Harry always knew that when Hermione wanted to eat outside the Ministry for lunch, someone or something had managed to annoy her.

“I was so angry with those idiots,” she whispered, being careful in case any of the other customers in the coffee shop overheard. “They just don’t care what they say or do.”

“Come the revolution,” Harry muttered with a smile.

Harry doubted if Hermione could have found a job that gave her less job satisfaction. She had high hopes that being so close to the Minister would give her a chance to change attitudes at the highest levels.

Hermione had joined the campaign team that lobbied for the creation of Arthur’s new department in the first place, amongst other things. Indeed it was because of her success that the then new Minister had offered her the post. At the time Hermione had known this was just because didn’t want the likes of Hermione starting some new campaign.

Still, Hermione refused to give in and waged her own war on prejudice and inequality wherever she saw it. Unfortunately, she saw rather a lot in her position as assistant to the Minister.

Hermione was utterly unafraid of confrontations, but Harry was beginning to see that it was gradually having an effect on her.

At first, Harry wondered how long it would be before the Minister just sacked her. He wasn’t that stupid though. It was good PR to have such a vocal and radical high-flyer on his staff, and he enjoyed his public stance on supporting her views, even if he did everything he could to block progress and change for the better.

Harry reached out and placed his hand over hers on the small white table.

Hermione looked up and returned his smile.

“You need a break,” he said gently. “You must be due some time off, Hermione.”

“It’s difficult,” she replied.

Harry nodded, deciding not to upset her by arguing. He knew she was afraid of what they would slip through in her absence.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly, “have something indulgent today. What do you fancy?”

Harry tried not to show his disappointment as he noticed Hermione check her watch before choosing a pre-made salad sandwich.

*

“I didn’t tell her again,” said Harry as he slumped behind his desk again after he’d returned from lunch.

“What didn’t you tell her?”

“Um, sorry, I forgot I hadn’t told you either,” Harry replied sheepishly. “Well, I kind of got myself accepted into the Auror programme again.”

“You make it sound like you just wandered in there and got picked by accident. Congratulations,” Royce said warmly. “When do you start?”

“Whenever I say I’m ready.”

“Do you feel ready?”

“Yes, I think I am now,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I couldn’t have said that a few months ago, but I am now.”

“You’ve been more than ready to leave here for some time,” said Royce.

Harry smiled at him and nodded.

“So, you still fancy becoming an Auror?”

Harry shrugged and said, “I have to do something worthwhile and it’s a start. Either that or join Arthur’s old department!”

Royce snorted and said, “Well, you’re pretty good at calming down hysterical canteen workers too. I hear there is still an opening for a canteen manager. Hey, you could memory charm people into thinking they’ve had a good meal!”

Harry laughed and shook his head.

“So,” he continued, “that leaves me with two problems. The first is how do I tell Hermione?”

“That’s no problem. It’s only training, after all. Besides, she probably had to approve your application.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Harry. “She hasn’t said anything.”

“Applications must be confidential, after all.”

Harry nodded and realised that as an assistant to the Minister most important paperwork would cross her desk. She rarely, if ever, spoke about her work.

“Did you say you had two problems?”

“Well, yes,” admitted Harry. “I’m not too sure I should leave you on your own, actually.”

“Well, I’m touched,” Royce said smiling. “Actually, I’ve decided to ask Arthur if I can leave too. I was telling Hermione about it earlier.”

“Are you ready top leave?” asked Harry seriously.

“If I stay here with these people, I’ll never be ready,” said Royce before sighing deeply. “Something happened, early this morning,” he admitted.

“What happened?” asked Harry with concern.

“Well, you know I’ve been getting in earlier and earlier to avoid people. Unfortunately, I was a little later arriving this morning. The lift stopped as I was coming up and a couple of people got on. They completely ignored me, but the girl was chatting away constantly to her friend. Quite quickly she got around to retelling the latest atrocity that I’m supposed to have carried out. I really thought he would wet himself when I asked them to excuse me when I got off.”

“But you didn’t hurt them?” asked Harry uncertainly.

“No, but I’m surprised no-one has paid me a visit yet. A report is bound to go in.”

“Well, if you didn’t do anything,” began Harry encouragingly. “So, where do you want to go?”

Royce looked at Harry, clearly wondering whether or not to trust him.

“You can tell me,” said Harry.

Royce shrugged and said, “It’s stupid really. I was telling Hermione about it and she said it was a really good idea. It all began when I found some notes written to me by my niece. She is only ten and I think she slipped them into my papers when she visited last.”

Harry smiled. He had no idea Royce had any family left.

“Anyway, these short letters had an amazing impact on me. In less than five hundred words, she expressed more feeling than I’d read or expressed for years. Mostly it was just concerns she had about school and learning to play an instrument. It struck me that I was totally incapable of writing like that. I tried to reply, but my words were so dry and unemotional there was no way I felt I could respond without hurting her feelings.

“I decided then that I would learn to write. I tried simple things at first, like describing in words everyday objects. Then I tried writing short stories. Needless to say, I managed to exclude anything remotely emotional. Hermione suggested I might like to write about my own experiences, try to express what I was feeling at the time and since.

“I told her that I didn’t have any experiences that people wanted to read about, after all I was just a junior clerk. She said she’d read my file and wasn’t it time people heard my side of it. I told her I wasn’t very proud of my side.”

“So, what did happen?” asked Harry gently.

At that moment the fake golden Galleon he always kept in his pocket burned hot. He knew only himself and Hermione regularly carried them around with them these days. Indeed, he’d charmed hers to behave slightly differently now, so she didn’t need to charm the coin to get his attention. Now, the Galleon reacted to her mood.

Harry jumped up and said, “Hermione’s in trouble,” before Disapparating to her.

*

Harry Apparated silently into Hermione’s office. It was actually a large lobby between the Minister’s private office and the Minister’s meeting and waiting rooms. Her desk was vacant but ahead of him she could hear her shouting angrily. The large pair of doors that led into the Minister’s private office were open and Harry quickly made his way towards the shouting.

“You know these are all lies!” Hermione was shouting. “You have witness statements to testify that nothing happened. Why are you persecuting him and why did you try to hide these files from me?”

“Miss Granger, I have to do something. People are getting very upset by his presence. It would be in everybody’s best interest, you must see that.”

“You are seriously telling me that it’s acceptable to send someone to Azkaban just because people are upset by his presence?”

“He’s dangerous.”

“He’s innocent!”

“Have you any idea of the number of people he has killed?”

“They were Death Eaters and he was defending Ministry staff, including yourself, Minister.”

“From the state of their bodies, I wouldn’t call his actions one of defence.”

“Okay, charge him and give him a fair trial,” Hermione challenged. “Let the Wizengamot judge his actions.”

Entering the enormous and opulent room which looked more like a fine art picture gallery than an office, Harry saw Hermione standing in front of the Minister’s large desk brandishing a file at the timid but defiant man sitting behind his large, ornate, gilt desk.

“That would not be in the public interest,” blustered Stratford. “What if he attacked the court? He doesn’t need a wand you know?”

Harry realised that Hermione couldn’t see the two security wizards that were quietly approaching her from behind. He withdrew his wand and hurried forward.

The two wizards rushed at Hermione. They had almost got to her when she turned and screamed. Instantly the two men were hurled bodily away from her.

“How dare you set your goons on me,” whispered Hermione threateningly at Stratford.

Harry got to her and was relieved to see she was physically unharmed, although shaking with fury.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said.

“It wasn’t me,” he replied softly.

Harry looked at Stratford. He was just sitting there with a terrified look on his face. Harry and Hermione both turned to see what he was staring at.

Royce was standing behind them, looking calm and dangerous.

Suddenly there was the sound of ripping timber. The large heavy desk was torn in two and the two halves thrown apart.

Royce hadn’t uttered a word but it was obvious that he was responsible. It was simply a demonstration of what he was about to do to the Minister.

Hermione stepped between Royce and the still seated Stratford and said as calmly as she could, “Please, David, he’s not worth it. If you kill him now I won’t be able to keep you out of Azkaban. Let the Wizengamot judge him. Please. I intercepted some of the papers this morning. We have the evidence now.”

Royce looked down, thinking about what Hermione had said.

After an age, he nodded. Hermione gave an enormous sigh of relief as she hugged Harry.

Royce walked over to Stratford and whispered some words into his ear. The Minister blanched but sat still, obviously terrified. Royce reached into Stratford’s robes and took his wand.

“I collect Death Eater wands,” he said smiling at Harry and Hermione. “I have quite a few now.”

Hermione just looked totally shocked. Harry looked behind them to see Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley rushing into the office followed by several others.

“If you’re okay, I’d better make myself scarce,” said Royce.

Hermione nodded shakily to him and Royce Disapparated away.

*

Harry stayed with Hermione as she made arrangements for the Aurors to take Stratford into custody. She explained at some length to all the senior department heads what she had discovered.

Eventually, Harry escorted Hermione back to the office where they knew Royce would be waiting for them.

Outside, they found a woman pacing up and down outside. Her anxious look was replaced by a tearful smile when she saw Hermione.

Hermione broke away from Harry and hugged her gently.

“It’s okay, Kathryn,” she said gently. “Let’s go inside.”

*

Hermione made the introductions and told Harry that it was Kathryn that had come to her this morning. She had been the girl gossiping in the lift this morning. Somehow the Minister’s security wizards had found out and had tried to make her give a false statement.

It was only when Hermione discovered a file that the Minister and his aides had never intended her to see that she confronted Stratford. The file appeared to have been placed in her in-tray by accident.

“I am so sorry,” Kathryn said to Royce. “I had no right to say the things I did about you. I’m sure none of them could possibly be true.”

Royce smiled slightly and nodded accepting her apology. She immediately looked relieved.

“They found the Dark Mark on him,” said Hermione. “It wasn’t on his forearm like the others, though.”

“I suppose that was because he was a spy when Voldemort was around,” said Harry.

Hermione nodded and sat down.

“David, I think it’s time you told the truth about what happened,” said Hermione. “There’s going to be a trial, and everything is going to come out anyway.”

Royce looked down but didn’t say anything.

“The records are incomplete. Stratford has had ages to remove anything that incriminated himself and fabricate evidence against you.”

Royce sighed deeply and said, “Well, alright. But I need a cup of tea first.”

Harry said brightly, “Four teas coming up!” but before he could get up a tray with four cups of tea appeared over Royce’s desk before landing gently.

“How long have you been able to do magic in this room?” asked Hermione indignantly. “It’s supposed to be impossible!”

“Well, always, actually,” admitted Royce. “Hermione, please don’t look at me like that. Harry’s been able to do magic too, although I only realised that when he Disapparated out earlier.”

Hermione turned to Harry who held his hands up.

“I only didn’t tell you because I thought you’d be upset that your wards might not be perfect,” he said. “I didn’t actually do any magic here, and I’m sure no one else has been able to.”

Kathryn sniggered and took the cup and saucer that Royce was offering her.

When they were all settled, Royce began.

“It all began with a complete accident. I was in the records store trying to put a file back on one of the high racks. It just wouldn’t go back in. Eventually I got frustrated and shoved it in with the result that a large box on the other end of the row fell off. You can imagine my horror when I realised it had fallen on someone.

“I rushed down the ladder and hurried along to then end of the row. There I found a figure that I’d just knocked out. I turned them over and realised they were wearing a mask. I pocketed his wand and went to summon help. Before I got to the door, the screams started.

“I exited quietly and found that I was standing behind a group of six cloaked wizards who had about twenty people cornered. I honestly wasn’t sure what I was going to do but then one of them sent a killing curse into the crowd. I shouted for him to stop but it was too late. They turned and we fought.

“Suddenly loads more appeared from side doors. It seemed that for every one that fell, two more joined them. I have no idea how I survived, but by the end I was surrounded by bodies. I could hear fighting continuing elsewhere and I hurried over to where the others were cowering. I wanted to get them away because I could hear more of them coming.

“I can’t really describe what a felt at that point. You see, they looked absolutely terrified. Not of the Death Eaters, but of me. One girl actually panicked and rushed out of the very door they needed to keep away from. She was killed almost instantly by the Death Eaters on the other side, but the look on her face has haunted me ever since. Imagine, she actually preferred rushing towards the Death Eaters and certain death than staying in a room with me.”

Royce paused and the others waited in silence.

“Anyway, I kind of lost it at that point. I just roamed the corridors and offices and picked off any Death Eaters as I found them. Some of the things I did were truly terrible. I didn’t just kill them cleanly.

“I stopped when I encountered Stratford. There were four Death Eaters in the room and it looked like they were all trying to use Floo Powder to get away. I killed them but I stopped with Stratford. I was sure he was collaborating with them but he didn’t have the same cloak nor was he wearing a mask. I checked for the dark mark on his arms but there was nothing. I couldn’t understand why they hadn’t killed him though. He wasn’t important enough to kidnap then.”

“So, that’s why he wanted to get you out of the way,” said Hermione thoughtfully. “He knew you suspected him.”

“Of course, my suspicions were somewhat confirmed when he had me arrested minutes later. If it hadn’t been for Arthur Weasley, I’d be in Azkaban now.”

*

Arthur Weasley had just finished telling them the latest developments, including the news that he had been invited to become Acting Minister until elections could be held.

“But you’ll be standing for election, won’t you?” asked Hermione.

“Me? Heavens no!” replied Mr Weasley smiling. “None of the others wanted to do it because they won’t be able to campaign. No, I have no ambitions in that regard. I did think it would be an ideal opportunity to put some more radical legislation through, though.”

Hermione grinned at him.

“David, I’d like you to join my private office staff,” said Mr Weasley.

“I was hoping to get away from here, actually,” he replied. “Besides, I’ve only ever been a junior clerk.”

“Not only are there probably still agents of You-Know-Who still around here, Hermione is going to make herself very unpopular in some quarters with her plans. With Harry going into training, I need someone to do her filing and protect her.”

“So when could I leave?”

“Harry’s initial training will take six months,” advised Mr Weasley. “Then he’ll have a six month work experience period which he’ll spend working for Hermione. You may take a sabbatical for those six months but after that you’ll have to take over again. If you don’t agree then there will be no new legislation. I will not place Hermione at risk.”

“Please, David,” pleaded Hermione, “say you’ll do it.”

“I want to make something very clear,” said Royce seriously. “I’ll only take the job as a clerk. I’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure Hermione’s safety but I’m not prepared to accept payment for anything other than being a clerk.”

“Thank you, David,” said Hermione smiling warmly.

“I do have one concern, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve seen Harry’s filing,” he answered wryly. “I’m not sure I could face coming back knowing he’s had a whole six months to mess things up.”

2. The Committee Room

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Two: The Committee Room

About eighteen months later…

Auror Harry Potter stood next to Hermione to listen as Minister Weasley made his final speech to the assembled dignitaries, press and Ministry staff. The Ministry entrance hall was crowded with well-wishers.

Harry had already heard much of this speech. He had been present a few nights ago while Mr Weasley practised and Hermione gave her critical review, as they had done for every speech preceding a major policy review. Harry knew they hadn’t really needed to do so for this final speech, but it was a good excuse for the tight knit private office staff to meet for one last time.

Hermione smiled with pride at the house elf and goblin representatives as Mr Weasley paid tribute to them. Even the centaurs had sent a goodwill message, although there was no goodwill expressed towards the new administration.

In the eighteen months of his leadership, the wizarding world had never seen so many legislative changes. It was therefore quite remarkable that Mr Weasley had maintained such a high degree of popularity, particularly in the Press. Unfortunately, it had been Hermione who bore the brunt of both public and private criticism.

Mr Weasley had been right to be concerned about Hermione’s safety. Her legislation on equal rights had brought many threats and unfortunately a few attempts to harm her, all of which were thwarted.

Even their severest critics were forced to admit that their approach had been effective. The key had been Hermione’s discovery of long forgotten laws that she argued actually promoted equality. Once the Wizengamot recognised this argument, the well established but slightly newer laws for the regulation and control of magical creatures were repealed and replaced.

Because Mr Weasley was handing over to his successor, Hermione had insisted on resigning from her own position. Although this came as a surprise to many people, Harry knew she wanted to dedicate some time to other things.

The incoming Minister, unfortunately, was suspected to be less sympathetic to the cause. Hermione hoped that they would leave enough in place to prevent their good work being undone. Harry knew she was worried, although he himself was quite optimistic. The house elves, centaurs and goblins were now much better placed to take care of themselves.

There were still problems, it was true. The centaurs were still utterly disdainful of wizard-kind and many house elves feared freedom.

Harry knew that Hermione couldn’t just stop her campaign.

He was, however, more than a little disappointed to discover that very morning, that Hermione had accepted places on no less than three influential committees. He had been hoping she would take a break for a while.

Harry looked around, wondering if David Royce was present. He didn’t really expect to see him, as he still hated crowds. Mr Weasley had even presented his Order of Merlin, Third Class, in private after the Wizengamot trials were over. Harry had felt strongly that he deserved a higher reward, especially given how successful he’d been at protecting Hermione, having been persuaded to stay on for the entire period that Mr Weasley had been Minister.

He’d joked to Harry that it was because he couldn’t face the prospect of Harry doing the filing, but Harry knew better. They had spoken recently on the pretext of discussing what they should do with the previous Minister’s old desk. Having been ripped in two, it had remained a potent reminder of what can happen when people mess with Hermione’s clerks. In the end they reduced it down and fixed it to a small polished timber base. Royce presented it to a delighted Hermione to use as a paperweight.

Harry and Hermione clapped as Mr Weasley finished his speech and stepped back to join Molly, who was looking on proudly. As the new Minister began his acceptance speech, Hermione pulled Harry away.

“David told me he wanted to leave again yesterday,” she began quietly weaving towards to the rear of the assembled crowd. “He’s not too happy with me right now. I asked him to stay on and help.”

“Well, if it’s what he wants,” said Harry, handing her a drink from the buffet table. “Besides, if you need any help I’ll be here for you.”

“That’s just the point, Harry,” she said.

“I don’t understand.”

Hermione sighed and dragged Harry towards one of the new committee rooms.

Harry smiled to himself as he did every time he passed the remains of the Fountain of Magical Brethren.

The fountain had actually been restored several times since Harry first saw it being destroyed by Dumbledore and Voldemort. Given the gross misrepresentation the statues expressed, even Hermione had no objection to Harry destroying it every time he visited the Ministry and happened to be in a bad mood. Needless to say, the maintenance department soon gave up and now the plain stone plinth stood empty.

There had been a popular suggestion that a statue of Arthur Weasley should be erected there. Unfortunately, although his twin sons had offered to sponsor the new fountain, Arthur refused to approve any of the places they proposed the water should spout from.

Hermione closed the door behind them and the chatter from outside disappeared. The large room was sumptuously furnished with circular rows of spectator seating facing the committee desks. These were of various sizes to suit the new committee membership. The plush dark coloured carpet gave the whole room a quiet feel.

Harry remembered the first time Hermione stood to speak in this very room. She had been so nervous, despite all the friends that came to support her. Her transformation into a confident and formidable advocate happened almost instantly in front of his eyes. Harry knew he’d found a natural confidence and skill the first time he’d flown.

This place was her sky, and here it was that she learned she could fly.

Many times since then, Harry had witnessed respected wizards and witches close to tears under Hermione’s grilling.

“That’s better,” she said smiling and placing her glass down on a table as she fumbled inside her robes.

“The thing is, Harry, I really wanted David to carry on,” she said, trying to find something in her pockets. “I don’t want you to do it,” she added absently.

“What?” said Harry, completely horrified.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate,” she said. “Ah, here it is! I was afraid I’d lost it. I’ve been carrying this thing around like an idiot for ages.”

Hermione looked up smiling but her smile faltered seeing Harry’s expression.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” she asked with concern.

“Why don’t you want me?”

Hermione just rolled her eyes and said, “Sit down, Harry. Stop looking so worried.”

He sat as ordered.

“This is not how I’d planned this at all,” she said smiling and picking up her glass again. She took a quick sip and sat down next to Harry.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’ve been offered places on a couple of committees.”

“Yes,” Harry said miserably. “Three isn’t it?”

“Four,” she corrected him, “but I’m only accepting two. Well, two and a bit.”

“How can you be on a bit of a committee?”

“Um, it’s not a committee,” she admitted. “I’ve been offered a very junior place on the Wizengamot.”

Harry tried to congratulate her, but something inside wouldn’t let him.

“Are you terribly disappointed with me?”

“You? Never,” he said warmly, taking hold of her hand. “I was hoping you’d take a break, though.”

“How long for?”

“Not long,” he said, “Two or three years maybe? You must be owed that much in holiday time alone!”

Hermione laughed and said, “Are you sure that’s long enough?”

Harry shrugged.

“Well, to be honest, you may get your wish unless David agrees to continue as my assistant. He’s the only one that can cope with all the paperwork. The fact that most people are still terrified of him also helps.”

“Do you think you’ll still have trouble?”

“Not like it was,” she answered. “There’ll always be those that refuse to acknowledge equal rights though.”

Harry nodded.

“Actually,” said Hermione, “I was hoping we could talk about your plans, not mine.”

“Why?”

“Are you planning on staying with the Auror Department?”

“I suppose so. David reminded me the other day that I told him ages ago that I wanted to do something worthwhile and that Auror training was just something to do while I decided.”

“What do you want, Harry?”

“The same thing as I’ve always wanted,” he said honestly.

“And how far away is it?”

“Further than ever,” he said miserably before he could stop himself.

“You know? I got more sense out of you when you were in hospital.”

“Sorry?”

“Just after the battle, Harry. You were delirious for days. You said some very interesting things when you weren’t babbling nonsense.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” said Hermione with a smile.

“So when do you start on your new committees?”

“Harry, stop trying to change the subject. Tell me honestly, do you still want to be an Auror?”

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“Yes, Harry, you are good at it,” she agreed gently. “David’s quite good at hurting people too, but he refuses to make a career out of it. What do you like best about the job?”

“Training,” he said at once. “I mean, training others. It was the same when we were doing the DA at school.”

Hermione smiled.

“Why don’t you consider a teaching post?”

“I did make some enquiries,” he admitted. “Nothing was available.”

“Nothing?”

“No, the Ministry has a full compliment of trainers now and no-one’s coming up for retirement soon.”

Hermione looked at him incredulously, and her eyes then fell down to the small felt bag she still held in her hands.

“What is it, Hermione?”

“Harry, Hogwarts has been desperate for good teachers for ages. Every time I speak to Minerva she pleads with me to persuade you to go back. I’ve known she offered you a post for ages.”

Harry smiled and shook his head. “She just did that to be nice.”

“Harry, are you seriously suggesting that Professor McGonagall would expose sub-standard teaching to her students just because she wanted to be nice? Why didn’t you accept?”

Harry sighed heavily.

“I suppose, part of it was that I didn’t think I was good enough.”

“Good enough? You must have forgotten Lockhart and Umbridge!”

“Or remembered Flitwick, Dumbledore, Lupin-”

She stopped seeing the hurt on Harry’s face. They were quiet for a moment.

“I need to ask you to promise me something,” said Hermione.

“Sure, anything,” said Harry at once.

“I want you to get a temporary teaching position at Hogwarts, just for a short while.”

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Just because,” he said looking down.

“Well, that’s a shame,” said Hermione gently. “Because that would be a decision we’d both regret.”

“What do you mean?”

Hermione drew in a deep breath.

“Okay, would you like to know what I was going to tell you, had you agreed?”

“Um, sure, I suppose.”

Hermione held up the felt bag and holding it at the bottom allowed a small black box to tumble out onto her other palm.

“This, Harry, was to be your birthday gift. That is, the gift you were going to give to me.”

“Really?” he asked smiling. “Did I get a receipt?”

Hermione handed him the small box.

“I take it this is something you wanted?”

“Oh, yes. For ages.”

Harry couldn’t think what to say, so he just offered it back saying, “Happy Birthday.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he immediately withdrew his hand.

“Um, what were you going to tell me and why can’t you accept this unless I take a job at Hogwarts?”

“Yes, it’ll be good for you.”

Harry frowned, trying to understand her answer.

“Hermione, that made no sense. You can’t really expect me to take any job that will take me away from you, can you?”

Hermione made an exasperated groan and grabbed the box from his hands.

“Honestly, Harry! You might at least have looked to see what was in the box.”

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said, looking down.

Hermione stood and said angrily, “I’ve had enough of this.”

“Hermione?”

For a moment Harry was convinced she was just going to storm out of the room. She took two quick steps away, with her back towards him and then turned back towards him.

Slowly she moved towards him, placed the box in a side pocket and offered both her hands out to him. He reached out and took each hand in his.

Hermione grabbed hold and dropped down, holding both his hands above his lap.

“Harry, I know it hasn’t been easy for you lately,” she said looking up into his eyes. “I can’t tell you how grateful I’ve been for your love and support for all these months. You know how important it was for me to complete everything before Arthur finished. You’ve been so patient with me.

“I’ve been so looking forward this time. You know?

“I know you haven’t been happy being an Auror, and I also know how happy teaching makes you. I just wanted you to settle into a career that will make you happy. I couldn’t see a future for us without that.”

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, knowing his world was about to collapse.

“Oh, no,” Hermione said tearfully, “You don’t get off that easily.”

She reached into her pocket and brought out a handkerchief. It bore a “HP” monogram. Blowing her nose, she stuffed it back in her pocket.

She cleared her throat and asked clearly, “Harry Potter, will you marry me?”

Harry just stared at her in stunned silence.

“Well?” she prompted impatiently.

“I thought you were going to,” he began. Then he smiled and said, “Yes, Hermione.”

Harry broke their kiss eventually and asked, “So aren’t you supposed to give a ring when you propose? Where’s mine then?”

Hermione slapped him on the arm but dived into her pocket for the small black box which she opened to reveal a gold engagement ring with a simple three stone setting. Harry knew at once, if he had to choose a ring for Hermione, this would have been the one.

Harry gently picked the ring out of his box and smiling said, “You’ll have to get it re-sized. It’s a bit small for my fingers.”

Hermione ignored him and held her hand up. He slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her gently.

“Um, Hermione, this is great and everything,” said Harry cautiously, “but why did we have to be in a Ministry committee room to have this conversation?”

“I don’t actually have an office any more, Mum always takes your side when I have a go at you at home, your place is unsuitable and-”

“What’s wrong with my room?” he asked smiling. “You’ve practically been living there for months, not that I’m complaining.”

“I was going to say, we never seem to talk much there, do we? Anyway, Harry, you’ve given over the entire house to your tenants. I should say guests, of course, since you don’t charge them any rent. How long have you been confined to the smallest room in the house?”

“It’s only small because a certain person dumped all her books in there this morning.”

“Oh, sorry. I meant to tell you they would be arriving. Did they all fit in?”

“Just about, although I’ve warned Ginny and Neville to listen out for the floor collapsing.”

“Why tell them? They live next door!”

“Well, there’s no-one else to tell. The House Elf Refuge has found new premises. They moved out this morning, not that I blame them judging from the way the ceiling was sagging.”

“Where will they stay?” asked Hermione with concern.

“In their new place. Gringotts confirmed the sale a while ago but the building alteration works have only just been completed.”

“They’ve bought somewhere?”

“The official opening will be next month. They’re even asking some busy-body to declare it open.”

“How did they afford it?”

“Well they pooled their compensation payments and some of their new earnings into a co-operative venture.”

“They didn’t need to get into debt then?”

“Well, there was a cash shortfall,” he admitted. “But the goblins invested quite a bit when they found out the rental income the elves could earn. They didn’t need any loans from the bank.”

“Where is the property and why didn’t the Ministry know?”

“Well, as free individuals they were free to enjoy privacy same as everyone else.”

Hermione smiled tearfully.

“They now own a sizeable chunk of Diagon Ally, although the existing tenants and leaseholders don’t know who the new freeholders are yet.”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“Well, most of the plotting was done in my kitchen,” Harry admitted. “I also advanced them the legal costs and set things up so the sellers didn’t know who they were really dealing with. It was important to keep things quiet.”

“Well, that’s understandable,” said Hermione. “I do wish you’d felt you could confide in me, though.”

“Of course I could, but it wasn’t my secret to tell. Besides, they wanted to keep it as a surprise for you.”

Harry reached into his robes and drew out a large sealed envelope, and said, “Here. I was supposed to give this to you after Arthur’s speech.”

Hermione took the envelope with trembling hands. Harry knew it contained a long letter thanking her for everything she had done and inviting her to officially open the new elf refuge. He knew it represented far more. Hermione held in her hands proof, if any were required, that the house elves were asserting the independence she and Arthur had given them.

Tears were forming in Hermione’s eyes. Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“How much did it cost you?” she whispered.

“We can afford it,” he replied softly, “and it was worth every Knut.”

There was a soft knock and one leaf of the entrance doors opened just enough for Arthur Weasley to squeeze through. It sounded like there was a crowd of people outside and he shut the door immediately, obviously keen to keep them out.

Harry and Hermione turned and smiled seeing him but remained in each other’s arms.

“I’m so sorry,” Arthur said walking up to them. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but Molly and I are about to leave. I hope we will see you later for my surprise party?”

They both nodded.

“Ah, I see you’ve got your invitation,” he said seeing the envelope still clutched in Hermione’s hand. “Isn’t it wonderful? I had no idea!”

Hermione nodded and smiled, too emotional to speak.

“Um,” said Arthur, reaching into his robes. “Do we still need this?”

He held up a small scroll of parchment.

“I’m afraid we do,” said Hermione thickly.

Arthur smiled and nodded. He placed the scroll on a nearby table and said gently, “We’ll see you later,” before turning and leaving. They heard the noise of the crowd momentarily as the door was opened and closed but Harry was watching Hermione intently.

Hermione reached into one of Harry’s pockets and brought out the spare handkerchief he always carried for her. She wiped her eyes and said, “I’m feeling a little guilty about what’s in that scroll, Harry.”

“Why? What does it say?”

“Well you know I wanted you to take another job? That scroll is probably Arthur’s last ministerial order. The Auror Department has a new assignment for you. They want to send you somewhere.”

“Have you ever used your influence to change my assignments before?”

“No, of course not.”

“So, what’s changed now?”

“I was afraid you might not come back.”

“Hermione,” Harry said gently, “being an Auror is dangerous sometimes. There is no way that I’d avoid an assignment by changing jobs. If something happened to someone else I could never live with myself.”

“So, even if this order is scary and may take you a long way from me, you’d carry it out?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

Hermione sighed deeply and said, “I knew you would say that. We will be able to go to the Burrow for this evening but you should probably read that scroll now. You’ll be too busy in a few days, but hopefully we can spend some time together. You may find Apparating home inconvenient.”

Harry didn’t move.

“I love you, Hermione.”

She reached up and kissed him.

“I’m going to freshen up,” said Hermione. “I’ll meet you in the foyer and we can Floo straight to the Burrow. Mum and Dad are joining us there.”

Harry watched until the door closed behind her. He then walked over and picked up the scroll. He took out his wand and unsealed it.

He unrolled the scroll and read the concise order.

*

*

AUROR DIVISION REASSIGNMENT

Orders likely to place an Auror at risk in the line of duty must be approved and countersigned by the Minister of Magic.

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTER OF MAGIC

Auror Harry James Potter is hereby transferred from the Auror Department and with immediate effect shall join the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where he will teach Defence Against the Dark Arts until such time as the Head Teacher is able or willing to provide a replacement teacher.

Full Auror status to be retained until further notice.

Signed

Arthur Weasley

Acting Minister of Magic

*

“Sneaky so-and-so,” he whispered to the empty committee room before screwing the parchment up and heading for the door with a wry smile on his face.

3. Splashing in Puddles

Journey Home by Jardyn39

The Carmen character in this Chapter was first introduced in “
The Golden Serpent” and featured again in “The Pauper’s Time.” She has known Harry since she was nine years old and was considered a witch prodigy. She has a snake familiar named Hydrus. Harry remembers her as bright, resourceful and mischievous.

Chapter Three: Splashing in Puddles

Harry Potter walked from Hogsmeade Train Station up to the school at a leisurely pace, his head full of memories of the time he’d spent at school there. He had decided to come up on the early train, feeling the journey time would give him an opportunity to put his feelings in order.

He paused before entering the great gates, looking up at the winged boars. It had been quite a while since he’d been here.

Then he steeled himself, and walked up to the castle.

As he got closer, there were signs of activity. Figures in familiar uniforms were hurrying in small groups to their lessons.

Harry was almost tempted to go straight down to Hagrid’s house, but felt he should put in an appearance at the castle.

He climbed the steps up to the main entrance doors, wondering where he should go first. He decided the staff room would be best at this time in the morning, since he had no idea what the password was.

As he reached the top step, Professor McGonagall stepped through the open door to greet him.

Harry smiled widely seeing her.

She smiled back warmly, at once her transforming her familiar strict appearance.

“Welcome back to Hogwarts, Harry,” she said, “It’s been too long since you were last here.”

She reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, earning him a curious look from a passing Second Year.

This was only the second time she had shown him such open affection. The first had been while he had been recovering in hospital after the final battle. She had personally broken him the news of all those who hadn’t made it, something that had been kept from him for fear of his reaction.

“Come, let me show you your quarters,” she said taking his arm, “and then we’ll take a short tour before lunch.”

They walked up the great staircase, chatting about Hermione.

McGonagall lifted the side of one of the tapestries on the half landing to reveal a great door.

“I thought this was a solid wall,” said Harry. “I’m sure I hid behind here a couple of times!”

“Yes,” she said with a smile, “I know you did.”

She touched the finger plate and the door clicked and swung open silently. They entered and McGonagall closed the door behind them.

Harry was stunned. Extending before them was a long corridor. He was sure they had just passed through an external wall.

This was just impossible. They should be outside now.

McGonagall smiled seeing his confused expression.

“You see, Hogwarts still hold some secrets that map of yours can’t see.”

Harry grinned at her and nodded.

“I’m sorry to say,” continued McGonagall as they walked down the carpeted corridor, “that some teachers fail to immediately see the significance of the illusion.”

They reached the end of the corridor where it split off into a tee. Harry stared out of the window and shook his head in disbelief.

“I’ve flown over the castle more times than I can remember,” he admitted, “but I’ve never seen this garden.”

“Well, we like to have some private space,” McGonagall said casually. “Now, that way leads to the lounge and there is a small reference library and dining area, although we do encourage staff to eat in the Great Hall. Reading is acceptable in the lounge, but please don’t bring any work into there. The bar is moderately stocked.

“There is also a kitchen area should you wish to cook anything for yourself. Albus was rather keen on making late night suppers and he didn’t like to disturb the house elves.”

They walked along the other corridor.

“These are the staff suites. We can extend them to a limited extent, but we are restricted. You are the new boy, so you’ve just got what is left. As you become more senior and staff leave, you can choose from what is available.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Harry as McGonagall opened the last door.

The suite was large but rather drab. The living room was lined with rows upon rows of empty shelves but the bedroom and bathroom were well equipped and spacious.

“You may redecorate as you wish but please don’t try and rearrange the walls. I’m sorry you don’t have a window with a view, but perhaps you’ll do better next year.”

“This is great, really.”

“The fireplace is connected to the Floo network and you can of course communicate with any fireplace in the school from here. The Floo only accepts incoming calls from staff or outside the school.”

Harry nodded.

As they exited, McGonagall said, “Oh, the indoor and outdoor swimming pools are further down there. I understand there is a makeshift Gym there too.”

*

“Ginger Newts.”

The large stone gargoyle slid aside to reveal the circular moving staircase.

They had spent the last hour revisiting the castle and part of the grounds, but nothing had quite affected him as much as coming back to this office.

Harry felt like he was in a trance right up to the moment when McGonagall opened the door to her office.

The large circular office was much as he remembered, the portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses looking down upon them.

“Welcome back, Harry Potter!” said a familiar corpulent figure.

Harry smiled and nodded to them, but was sorry to see that the portrait of Albus Dumbledore was empty at present. He must be off somewhere more interesting, having several portraits to choose from.

“Harry, I need to ask you something,” said McGonagall sitting herself behind her desk, one of the few things that were obviously different.

“Anything,” replied Harry, taking a seat.

“Well, would you mind doing a little more than just teach Defence Against the Dark Arts?”

“What do you need?”

McGonagall hesitated.

“I generally don’t approve of junior teachers taking too much on at the beginning, and I was worried you might need a little time to recover. It can’t be easy coming back here after everything that happened.”

“Some things will be difficult, it’s true, but I’m ready now to face them.”

“Yes, I can see that,” she said warmly. “Even so,” she added doubtfully.

“What can I do?”

“Well, I’m having a few problems fulfilling staff positions. Professor Agnellina has just resigned. He was hoping to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts post permanently. His actual position was teaching intermediate Charms, although he barely managed that.”

“I’m sure I could cope with Charms. Well, intermediate level anyway.”

“Oh yes, no question. But, that’s not the post I have a problem with.”

Harry frowned slightly.

“You see, Professor Agnellina was the Gryffindor Head of House. He hasn’t actually been doing any of his House duties for a while, though.”

“Why ever not?” Harry asked with concern.

“There have been a few problems. Gryffindor has an unruly element at the present. It happens every few years in any House.”

“How many students form part of this unruly element?”

“One.”

“One?” asked Harry, breaking into a grin.

McGonagall nodded seriously.

“But who on earth could-” began Harry before stopping abruptly. “Hang on, are we taking about Carmen?”

“Who else?”

Harry laughed.

“I know she had a rough start. She told me all about the boats on the lake on her first day. She just wanted all the other First Years to meet the giant squid. You know how enthusiastic about everything she was.”

“Yes, I remember. I also remember the state Professor Agnellina was in after he tried to punish her for that. We never did find out what she did to him.”

“But I thought she calmed down. When I stopped getting reports I assumed things were going well for her.”

“Reports?”

“Well, letters. She used to write to me regularly. Hermione too. She was never shy about telling us what trouble she was in. I thought the letters dried up about the time she discovered boys.”

“I get the impression that most of the boys are rather intimidated by her.”

“Look,” said Harry. “I’ll help out in any way I can, but you should know I may not be the right person to help. Carmen has been able to wrap me around her little finger since she was nine.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“How is her school work?” he asked.

“Exceptional, compared to the other students in her year.”

“But is she reaching her potential?”

“Not at all. She started brightly enough, but she soon stopped trying. Now she does the barest minimum.”

“What do you think is wrong?”

“Well, at first I thought her intellect was alienating her from her contemporaries. This often happens. You’ll remember how unhappy Hermione was until you became friends with her.”

“But, you think it’s something more?”

“I do, but I’m not sure what. She won’t confide in anyone, that I’m aware of.”

“I’d like to speak to her. As a friend, not a teacher or anything else. Does she know I’m joining the staff?”

“No one knows,” McGonagall said with a smile. “I was hoping you’d suggest that.”

“Great,” replied Harry ironically with a grin, “now that’s three of you that can read me like a book!”

*

Harry walked down to the lake. It was lunchtime and Carmen was sitting on the bench Harry and Ron had conjured for Hermione in their Seventh Year.

She was sitting under a giant golfing umbrella, staring at the raindrops as they splashed into the surface of the water.

“Room for another under there?”

“Harry! You’re getting soaked. Come and sit down.”

He ducked his head under and sat down next to her.

“How are you?” he asked warmly.

“Fine,” she replied automatically. “What are you doing here?”

“I decided I wanted to jump in some puddles. Hogwarts is the only place for that. I hope it rains harder, because there aren’t many puddles big enough yet. I may have to just give up and jump in the lake.”

Carmen laughed.

It had been years since they had enjoyed one of their sillier conversations.

Seeing Carmen laugh, he realised she wasn’t the young witch prodigy he remembered. She was growing up fast.

“How’s Hydrus?”

“He’s fine. I left him in the dormitory.”

“Why?”

“We had another argument. I’m not talking to him.”

“That reminds me why I really came here,” said Harry.

“What?”

“I came to apologise and to ask you something,” he said gently. “I’m sorry I stopped writing to you Carmen. I didn’t stop caring, but I just assumed you had better things to do.”

Carmen shook her head and said, “No, it was me that stopped writing. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“That will never happen.”

“What did you want to ask me? Hermione already wrote and asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.”

“Really? I hope you said yes. Actually, no that wasn’t it.”

“Well?”

“Um, it’s a bit delicate.”

“What did you do this time?” she asked with a grin.

“Why do you always assume I’ve done something?” Harry replied indignantly.

Carmen laughed and said, “Okay, tell me you didn’t.”

Harry laughed and said, “Well, maybe I have got myself into something. Anyway, I need a favour.”

“You haven’t upset Hermione have you? Because if you did, I’m on her side!”

“No, this is not quite as serious as that would be.”

“Oh, you need me to explain another law, then. Okay, do you have a copy of the legislation?”

“No, no. This is something new. Tell me about Professor Agnellina.”

“He hates me and I hate him. End of story. I don’t think he’s a Death Eater though. He hasn’t the brains.”

“Why do you think he hates you?”

“He’s had it in for me ever since my first day. I proved I hadn’t broken any school rules but he still punished me. He couldn’t argue with any of my points so he just gave me extra punishment. In class, he hated me just because I pointed out all the wrong dates he was using. He’s supposed to be a Charms teacher, but he can’t actually do anything himself. Every time I showed him how to do things properly, he made an example of me.”

“That doesn’t sound very fair.”

Carmen just shrugged miserably.

“Can I tell you something in confidence?” asked Harry.

“Of course, not that I’ve got anyone to tell.”

“Professor Agnellina has resigned. There will be a new teacher taking over, but you may not like them any more than Professor Agnellina.”

“Did you arrest him?” she asked hopefully.

“No, he’s done nothing illegal that I’m aware of. Was Agnellina the only teacher you had problems with?”

“He’s the only one I’ve had serious confrontations with, but I don’t exactly get on with most of them. Actually, I’ve never had a problem with Professor McGonagall. She has never punished me for something I didn’t deserve, but she never teaches me.”

“She was always one of my favourite teachers too,” agreed Harry. “So why aren’t you and Hydrus talking?”

“I’d rather not say. People don’t like me having him around anyway, what with him being so poisonous.”

“That can’t be the only reason. He’s never bitten anybody, has he?”

“Well, he just reminds people about the Prophecy. They act even weirder when he’s around.”

“He’s so small though. Couldn’t he curl up inside your robes or up your sleeve?”

“Yes, well we tried that but he couldn’t stop nagging me, telling me to go and apologise so I can have it back.”

“Get what back?”

“Nothing. I didn’t mean to say that. Forget it.”

“Carmen, this is me you’re talking to. Please tell me.”

They heard a carriage travel along the gravel road towards the castle. Harry took hold of the umbrella and lifted it enough so they could watch.

“Who’s that, Carmen? Waiting at the entrance.”

“Agnellina,” she replied bitterly and Harry noticed a concerned look in her eyes.

“Come on,” he said getting up. “I’d like to introduce myself before he departs. I didn’t realise he was going so quickly.”

Harry folded the umbrella and held out his hand to Carmen. She didn’t move.

“Please, Carmen, or he’ll have gone.”

Carmen stood reluctantly but as soon as they moved towards the entrance, the carriage set off towards the gates.

Harry held up his wand and pointed it to a spot just in front of the carriage. The Thestrals halted at once.

They hurried over.

Harry found a bemused looking gentleman sitting in the carriage, clearly wondering why he wasn’t moving.

Harry opened the door and smiled.

He extended out his hand and said, “Professor Agnellina, I’m so glad I caught you before you left. My name is Harry Potter.”

The man looked at him uncertainly before shaking Harry’s hand. The limp handshake did nothing to improve Harry’s opinion about him.

“I was hoping you’d have time for a quick word.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have time.”

“Well, this carriage isn’t going anywhere for a while, not until lunch is over anyway,” said Harry with a satisfied look at the beef carcass currently being ripped apart by the two Thestrals.

From the look on Agnellina’s face, Harry was sure he had no idea what was pulling his carriage.

“I’d be happy to help you with your luggage if you are really in a hurry. Perhaps we could talk along the way?”

Harry opened the door wider, and a rather reluctant Agnellina got out.

“No. If you’ll excuse me, I need to find a house elf to summon another carriage.”

Harry was beginning to seriously dislike this man, but was reminding himself that Hermione didn’t approve of jumping to assumptions about people.

Agnellina gave Carmen a satisfied smile when he noticed her, clearly upset now.

“Give it back, you evil old git!”

Harry had never heard Carmen address anyone like this.

“Give what back, Carmen?”

“My wand. He took my wand.”

“Is this true?”

“Yes,” Agnellina replied with some pride.

“Well, whatever reason you had for taking it, you don’t need it now. Would you please return it?” said Harry coldly, adding in a threatening tone, “Now.”

Harry’s tolerance had evaporated by that point, but Agnellina remained defiant.

“I confiscated it because this creature has shown no respect since the first day she arrived. It was her choice, I gave her fair warning of the consequences. She was well aware of what would happen if she failed to apologise. The deadline passed and I have received no apology. No apology, no wand.”

“Give the wand to me then,” suggested Harry.

“Impossible. The wand has been destroyed.”

“No,” breathed Harry in total disbelief.

Carmen had tears streaming down her face when she launched herself at Agnellina. Before she got two steps though, she screamed in pain.

“Hydrus!” she cried. “He’s hurt!”

Carmen turned and staggered up the steps to the entrance doors.

Harry grabbed Agnellina’s lapels.

“Did you really destroy her wand?”

“Yes,” he replied with a cold smile.

Harry threw him against the carriage side, causing the Thestrals to lurch forward nervously.

Harry took out his wand and waved it lazily across Agnellina’s midriff. He immediately collapsed, groaning and clutching his stomach.

Harry lent in and whispered to him, “Nothing too serious, but you’ll need a few months worth of corrective surgery. I’ve just re-plumbed a few of your internal organs. Just so you know, I was with Carmen when her parents bought that wand for her. It was unique. Irreplaceable.”

“I’ll sue,” gasped Agnellina.

“I’m still an active Auror. You can’t sue Aurors, but you can challenge me to a duel and get satisfaction that way. Old fashioned, I know. I look forward to hearing from you. You had better leave now, before I arrest you for destroying personal property.”

Harry went over to the two Thestrals and released their harnesses.

Patting each of them he said gently, his words calming the beasts, “I’m sorry I gave you a start. I need to get to Carmen, but I’ll find you later and apologise properly. Maybe we can go for a fly sometime."

*

Harry rushed into Professor Agnellina’s office where he found Carmen being comforted by Professor McGonagall. Carmen was crying unreservedly, cradling a tiny golden snake in her hands.

Hydrus was horribly burnt.

“Winky told me you were here,” gasped Harry. “What happened?”

“The snake retrieved Carmen’s wand from the fire,” said the Professor holding up a slightly charred but otherwise intact wand.

“He was so brave,” sobbed Carmen.

Harry knelt and examined the snake closely. He was totally still.

Harry bathed the snake in an ice cold blast of air from his wand tip.

“What are you doing?” asked Carmen. “He’s gone.”

“No, but he’s almost gone,” said Harry whipping off his cloak and spreading it on the desk. “Place him on here.”

Carmen did so and at the same time Professor McGonagall made to close the office door. There were several curious onlookers now.

“No, please leave the door open,” requested Harry. “They can stay. We may need help anyway.”

Carmen collapsed onto a chair, sobbing weakly.

“Hydrus,” said Harry in Parceltongue, “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to try and ease the pain before we address these burns. You aren’t in good shape, my friend. This is going to hurt. Carmen is here.”

Harry bathed the snake in another blast of air, much colder this time.

He looked up and pointed at one of the older looking students at the door. “You! Run to the Hospital Wing and bring me some burns ointment. The heavy duty stuff. Bring as much as you can carry.”

She ran off immediately.

“You two,” he said firmly, addressing two young looking students at the front, “I need two buckets of clean lake water. Can you manage that?”

They both nodded and ran off. Their spaces were quickly filled by others eager to help. There were many now congregating outside the office.

Harry returned to the snake and began performing healing spells. He assumed that conventional spells would work as well as veterinary spells. They were all he knew, anyway.

There was a small commotion outside as the two bucket bearers tried to get through. Professor McGonagall barked orders to keep the corridor clear and they appeared at the door.

They placed the buckets at Harry’s feet.

“Thanks. Stand over there,” Harry directed. He pointed his wand at one of the buckets and turned it to solid ice. He then flicked his wand and the ice shattered with a loud bang. Ice sprayed around the room but Harry was careful to shield the snake.

“Pick up the ice, will you?” he asked and the two bucket bearers scrambled around the floor collecting the ice and returning it to the bucket.

Harry tipped the ice onto the desk and carefully moved his cloak and the snake on top.

He aimed again at the second bucket. This time the water instantly evaporated and the room was filled with a cool cloud of white mist.

“Sorry, Guys,” said Harry. “We need two more buckets of lake water.”

They happily obliged and ran back out just as the ointment arrived.

Harry continued to work on the snake for several minutes.

The buckets of water were quickly delivered and more clouds were created.

Eventually, Harry stopped and just waited. He had managed to repair the internal damage and quite a bit of the skin, although he was still badly burned.

As they watched, a tiny forked tongue flicked out and tasted the air.

Harry smiled and pulled out one of the office drawers, dumping its contents on the floor. He then undid the large ointment jars and poured the contents into the timber drawer.

“Okay, Hydrus, I’m about to bathe you in burn ointment. Yes, it smells ghastly and will hurt like hell, but if you want those boyish good looks back you’ll need to lie in this stuff for a few days. Ready?”

“Not really,” replied the snake in a tiny voice.

Harry just picked him up and dropped him with a plop into the ointment.

Carmen looked up in disbelief.

“Hydrus?”

Harry lifted the drawer up and placed it before her.

“He won’t be very good company for a few days, but he’ll survive. He must stay in this stuff and he must keep moving at all times. I suggest we take turns to watch over him. He’s still in a lot of pain, but we need to keep him on the move.”

Harry gave the tiny snake a small prod and then piled more of the liquid over him.

*

Harry woke, feeling someone sit next to him on the couch.

He sleepily opened his eyes.

“Hello, sleepyhead,” said Hermione, smiling widely at him.

Harry stretched and sat up. Hermione leaned in and kissed him.

“I got fed up waiting for you,” she explained.

“What time is it?” he asked, realising that they were supposed to meet for dinner that evening.

“Rather late, actually,” she replied, lifting his arm and settling herself next to him. “Don’t worry, I cancelled our table.”

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said. “I just sat down for a moment and must have dozed off.”

“No problem.”

“Actually, since you’re here, you might like to see Carmen. She was upset today.”

“I know,” Hermione admitted. “I’ve just come from her. She’s sleeping now.”

“Is someone watching over Hydrus?”

“Oh, yes. There were plenty of volunteers to help.”

“Good. So what do you think about our new apartment?”

“Um,” she said looking around, “I hate it.”

“We can redecorate.”

“This couch is rather nice, though. It looks familiar.”

“It should do.”

“Harry, you didn’t steal this did you?”

“No, of course not! It’s been in storage until we had somewhere to put it.”

“But where did you get it?”

“This was my prize. Professor McGonagall wouldn’t take no for an answer and insisted that I had to accept something. I chose this couch from the Gryffindor common room. I told her it had sentimental value. Don’t worry, I gave them another one to replace it.”

“Harry, I don’t believe you sometimes.”

“She said it was the kind of thing Dumbledore would have chosen. I took it as quite a compliment, actually.”

“She was right,” Hermione whispered, kissing him again.

Hermione suddenly smiled and blushed deeply.

“Oh, at last you remember why I’m sentimental about this couch!”

*

“How long can Hermione stay?” asked Professor McGonagall as they sat together at breakfast in the Great Hall.

“She has to be back Monday morning for a hearing,” said Harry, “but she can stay until then.”

“Good, that’ll give me time to work on her some more.”

Harry raised his eyebrows.

“I want her to give some lectures on ethics and law. I know she won’t agree to even a part time post, but want to get her involved with the school. If we play our cards right she may be tempted to accept a position.”

“Well, I’m sure she would agree to give a few lectures, but she won’t teach full time. Not right now anyway.”

“That won’t stop me trying,” McGonagall replied with a smile.

Harry grinned and nodded.

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione finished speaking with Carmen and made her way back to the staff table. She quickly stopped again to say hello to some Seventh Years that Harry didn’t recognise, but realised would have just joined the school while they were in their last year.

Carmen, meanwhile, was now chatting animatedly to the group of Gryffindors that remained, the familiar battered desk drawer on the table. They each took it in turns to gently prod the tiny snake to keep it moving.

Hydrus was clearly recovering and kept making escape attempts, but the laughing students kept telling him off and guiding him back into the thick, foul smelling liquid.

“Tell me, Harry,” asked Professor McGonagall, “will you publish the account of how you’re curing that snake? I understand that burn ointment has never been used to cure reptile burns like that.”

“No,” replied Harry, “I transfigured the burn ointment the morning after it happened. That stuff just smelly goo.”

“But why on earth did you make Carmen continue treating it?”

“Oh, the treatment was for Carmen, not the snake. You see, for once those students didn’t see a strange, forbidding intellectual. They saw a frightened, upset little girl who might have lost her closest companion. They saw her vulnerable and in need of some friends.

“They didn’t let her down, of course, and she didn’t even have to ask. They helped her when she needed help, staying up in shifts round the clock to care for Hydrus. Carmen owes them now. She can start to see them as friends to value, not merely inferiors.

“I must say, though, Hydrus has been rather a good sport in all this. I told him what I was going to do. Unfortunately the liquid is just as pungent to him as it is to us!”

Professor McGonagall frowned at him for a moment, but then her expression relaxed into a smile.

“When can I announce you as Head of Gryffindor House?”

“Um, actually I was hoping you’d agree not to make any announcement until Monday, at the earliest.”

“As you wish.”

Just then the owls arrived and flew around the Great Hall looking for the recipients of the mail they were carrying.

A large barn owl dropped a scroll on Harry’s head and sped off.

He picked it up and, seeing the letter was for himself, opened the scroll.

Harry read quickly and snorted before handing it to Professor McGonagall to read.

“What is it?” she asked.

“My reprimand. Agnellina made an official complaint.”

Professor McGonagall read quickly before handing him back the letter.

“Poor Kingsley. He seems rather upset about all the paperwork you caused him. What will happen, do you think?”

“Nothing much. Carmen’s wand wasn’t actually destroyed, so Agnellina won’t get much of a punishment. Unfortunately for him, Hermione will be prosecuting.”

“Will you need to attend the hearing?”

“No, but I may be called. Kingsley arrested him, not me.”

“Will you still be available to start Monday? I can give you more time if you need to prepare your lessons.”

“To be honest, the lesson plans aren’t going that well. Those books Agnellina set were totally unsuitable and there’s no way I can ask everyone to get new books now. Remus Lupin gave me his old lesson plans, so I thought I’d use those as a basis for now.”

*

“I can’t believe she just dumped us like that.”

“Harry, Carmen had to go and meet with her friends. You can’t expect her to want to stay with us. Besides, I know you’re glad she’s making friends now.”

“I just wanted to spend one lunch together before she finds out.”

“I know,” Hermione said gently. “Actually, I’m rather surprised she hasn’t realised you are their replacement teacher yet.”

“Well, it is rather absurd, isn’t it?”

“You’ll be fine, Harry. Well, I’m sure you’ll cope, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Professor McGonagall was telling me all about the chaos Carmen used to cause.”

“No, she’ll get over that. Agnellina is gone, she and Hydrus are on speaking terms again and she’s even making new friends. She’s got a fresh start.”

“Exactly, Harry. Carmen always caused more mischief when she was happy. Now she’ll be directing an army of mischief makers, you just see.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

Hermione snorted.

“You probably shouldn’t have told her all those tales about Fred and George. She’s got quite a standard to aim for.”

“You aren’t helping much, actually.”

“Poor, Harry,” she said kissing him warmly.

“Harry. Are you ever going to do this apartment up or will we be sleeping on this couch every night?”

4. The New Boy

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Four: The New Boy

“Harry Potter!” shouted a high pitched voice, “Miss Hermione left specific instructions that I was to throw a bucket of very cold water over Harry Potter if he was still asleep at seven o’clock.”

Harry moaned, but extended a bare foot to the carpeted floor.

“There, Winky, see?”

“Harry Potter still has not opened his eyes. I think he is still asleep.”

Harry opened his eyes to see the outline of the small elf holding a bucket.

“Winky, you’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Harry Potter will get up before the clock chimes or he will get wet.”

Harry stood, fumbling for his glasses.

“Good enough?”

“Yes, unless Harry Potter is tempted to go to sleep again.”

“I bet that water’s really cold. I could get a chill and have to stay in bed all day!”

Winky dipped her fingers in they water and shook her hand, sprayed him with icy cold water.

“Hey!” Harry shouted, laughing and making a dash for the bathroom.

He closed the door and muttered, “Thanks, Hermione.”

*

Harry emerged from the bathroom after first making sure that Winky and her bucket had gone.

He crossed the room and noticed a small envelope on the couch. He opened it and found it was a “Good Luck” card from Hermione.

He smiled and placed it in pride of place on one of the empty bookshelves before making his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

*

“May I please have your attention?” said Professor McGonagall in a clear loud voice as she stood in front of the staff table during breakfast.

The Great Hall immediately quietened to listen and Harry was pleased to see that everyone was paying keen attention.

“I regret to announce that Professor Agnellina has left us,” she advised to stifled hoorays, and continued quickly to add, “however it gives me great pleasure to welcome back Mr Potter who will be joining us as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher while he is on secondment from his Auror duties. In addition Mr Potter has agreed to become acting Head of Gryffindor House.”

Harry smiled but looked down, no longer hearing Professor McGonagall’s words. He wasn’t quite ready to see the expressions on the sea of faces in front of him.

He knew he wouldn’t have a problem with those that knew him personally, but most of the students he would be teaching only knew him from newspaper stories and rumours. It was now nowhere near as bad as it was, but Harry knew he was still feared by many.

Harry came to he senses as he realised Professor McGonagall was turning towards him and clapping. Suddenly he heard the clapping of everyone in the hall.

He half stood and nodded his thanks before being congratulated by the rest of the staff.

When Harry returned to his breakfast, Professor McGonagall said with a small smile, “No speech, Harry? I’m disappointed.”

Harry snorted, remembering her reaction when Umbridge stood up and made her little speech all those years ago.

“Well, I was afraid Winky would come along with her bucket of water!”

*

“Professor Potter?”

“I’m sorry, your name is?”

“Susan Ward, Sir.”

“Well, Susan, I’m not a Professor. Just call me Mr Potter or Sir. What’s your question?”

“Sir, how do you become a Professor?”

“I would need to teach for a number of years as well as prepare a thesis on an area of study. So, what was your original question?” Harry asked with a smile.

“Are you really an Auror?”

“Yes, I am. I qualified about a year ago, but I was given dispensation to cut the training period which is usually three years. They seemed to think I had enough experience to take my final examinations early.”

In fact, Harry had passed the final Auror examinations before he even began his Auror training. Fresh from hospital after the final battle, Harry was entered immediately at the insistence of both Alastor Moody and Professor McGonagall.

Harry had resisted forcefully, having had quite enough of Dark Wizard fighting, but had eventually agreed. It soon became apparent why they had been so persistent. Harry recorded the highest scores in modern times in the practical tests, but his final examination had been his stumbling block.

The psychological test he faced had been designed to provoke him. It did, although perhaps not quite in the way his examiners expected. Harry broke down completely.

It was as if Moody and Professor McGonagall knew this would happen. Details of the final test were kept secret and even the examiners agreed to have their memories modified. No one would know the full details except the remnants of the Order, whose sole duty now was to see Harry was protected while he was so vulnerable.

Eventually, after a short stay back in hospital, Harry found himself sent to Arthur Weasley’s department along with all the other damaged individuals. There, he was almost the first to arrive and was the last to leave.

“Did you really fight You-Know-Who?”

“No, but I did fight someone who liked to call himself Lord Voldemort. His real name was Tom Riddle.”

“Did you kill him?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t like to talk about that.”

“Did you fight the Giant Squid?”

“No,” said Harry with a small laugh, “I’ve always liked the Giant Squid. I did once visit the bottom of the lake, though.”

Harry was rather glad that his first ever lesson was with a class of First Years. He had decided to let them ask anything they wanted before beginning, but their line of questions continued for some time.

“Did you win the Quidditch Cup?”

“Yes, I was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and we won the cup twice.”

“Are you engaged to marry Hermione Granger?”

Harry blushed slightly and said, “Yes, we are engaged. On that point, I think it’s time we began doing some proper work.”

He smiled hearing the tuts of her fellow classmates. At least they had stopped looking at him so fearfully.

*

“So how was your first morning?” asked Professor McGonagall smiling. She had been waiting for him as he exited the classroom so they could go to lunch together, something he later learned she did with all new teachers on their first day.

“Well, I suppose it wasn’t too bad. My first two classes were only lower years, so they were easily pleased.”

“Hopefully, you’ll have more of a challenge this afternoon,” she said with a small grin.

“You’re telling me,” Harry replied with a laugh. He had the Third Year Gryffindors after lunch, and Carmen was bound to come up with something to mark his first day. He just hoped Hermione hadn’t given Carmen any ideas.

Harry closed the door and sealed it magically. If Carmen was going to prepare a trap for him, she would have to work for it.

At lunch in the Great Hall, Carmen and her new friends were noticeably absent.

*

“It will take me a little while to get to know all your names, so I apologise if I keep having to ask you your names. We’ll start with the register. Could you please raise your hand and say here.”

Harry began to take the register and got to the third name when Carmen came skidding into the classroom, shot a very nervous look at Harry and then dashed to a spare desk. She was blushing furiously and Harry made no mention of her late arrival.

He finished taking the register of names and looked up, saying, “Thanks. Now as you’re now Third Years, the amount of work you will be expected to do will increase significantly from what you’ve been used to. This is in order to prepare you for OWL exams and above.

“Unfortunately, the work you’ve been set to date is not up to the standard required. This is no fault of yours, but we are going to have to increase the amount of work in order to make sure we cover everything.

“To make things worse, the textbooks you were set for this year aren’t really appropriate for your standard. In fact, I’d really fear for you if all you had to defend yourself with was what you could learn from this book,” he said holding up his copy of Slinkhard’s Defence book.

“The only use this will be is target practice,” he said throwing the book high over the heads of the students. He quickly drew out his wand and fired a reductor curse at it. The book exploded upwards into individual pages. Quickly Harry swept his wand from side to side, placing temporary levitation charms on the pages which flew lazily high above their heads.

Harry waited for the laughing to subside.

“So, let’s see what you can do. Wands out. Firing only upwards, I want you to clear these pages from the air.”

Harry pointed his wand at a few individual pages and charmed them to dodge the various spells that were being fired upwards.

It took the class quite a bit longer than Harry would have liked for the class to destroy all but the charmed pages.

While they laughed at their own and each other’s attempts, Harry quietly assessed each student’s abilities. A few were good, most were average and a few were poor. Carmen hadn’t tried at all, having just laughed along with the rest. Harry knew this was hardly a challenge for her; they had performed similar practice sessions in the past. She could probably clear the entire room if she wanted to.

“Okay, stop for a moment,” said Harry loudly. He waited for quiet.

“I’d like to see some people try individually,” he said smiling. “Your name’s Tara, is that right?”

She nodded nervously.

“Have a go on your own.”

She pointed up and fired a weak, wayward shower of sparks to various sniggers.

“Actually,” said Harry, “burning the paper using sparks isn’t a bad idea, but you need to concentrate the sparks in order to get ignition. When the target is moving like these are, sparks can be difficult to control and are a little too slow. See?” He aimed and fired a strong burst of sparks, managing to scorch one page slightly, but nothing more.

“I liked your effort though,” he said smiling. “Five points for a good idea. You’ll get more when you improve that aim.”

He looked around for his next demonstrator.

“Peter, is it?”

The nervous boy nodded and stood.

“I’d like to see you try a Reductor curse on the paper.”

Peter aimed high, his wand following the dancing pages. Eventually he fired two weak reductor spells quickly followed by a stronger one. Half the page was reduced to powder but the remaining half burned for a moment before falling to the floor.

“Not bad,” said Harry. “You took careful aim, and I especially liked the quick firing between spells. I would have liked you to fire sooner, but that was a good first effort. Five Points.”

Harry continued picking out students until he had exhausted his list of poorer performing students.

There were now only two pages fluttering high up at the ceiling level.

He pointed his wand up and said, “Accio.”

One of the pages zoomed towards him. Harry caught it and tore it in quarters.

“Sometimes, one does not need to blast everything to get the job done. You’ll get points in this classroom for thinking, not just performing spells properly. Now, Carmen? I’d like you to get the last one.”

As she stood, a wide grin on her face, Harry pointed his wand at the remaining sheet. It screwed up and folded itself up into an origami bird as small and as quick as a snitch.

Suddenly, the paper snitch took on a burst of speed. It darted around the classroom like a bird in flight.

Carmen grin was replaced by a look of total concentration as her classmates cheered her on.

Carmen picked her spot, anticipating the snitch’s flight. She fired and missed, just.

She aimed again. Again, she was very close.

Carmen aimed again but was put off by the paper snitch diving straight at her as if to attack.

Looking annoyed she followed the paper snitch, blasting it with a quick succession of reductor curses.

Harry could see what was about to happen. Carmen was concentrating so hard on hitting the fluttering paper snitch, she wasn’t looking where she was aiming. Gradually her arm fell to she was no longer aiming upwards.

Harry was ready to deflect the curses, but even he was slightly taken aback as Carmen finally got the paper snitch, only inches from his head.

Carmen looked utterly horrified at what she had done.

“I’m so sorry!” she said shakily as the bell sounded.

Harry addressed the class.

“Defence Against the Dark Arts can sometimes be dangerous. The spells we will practice can hurt people, so we must all try and be responsible. Otherwise, accidents will occur. Homework, please give me three feet on the spells and curses we’ve seen today. Carmen, I’d like a quick word please.”

Harry packed up his things as the others left the room. He looked up to see Carmen waiting for him.

He smiled at her and waited for everyone to leave.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t. Carmen, you are now capable of much more powerful spells than anyone else here. I know that I’m partly responsible for encouraging you, but please try and be a little more careful. Besides, what would Hermione say if she found out you’d blasted off all my hair?”

Carmen returned his smile and said, “She’d probably think it was an improvement, actually.”

“So, when are you free for a detention?”

“I said I was sorry!” shouted Carmen, suddenly angry. “It was an accident!”

“I’m not giving you detention for that.”

“What did I do then?”

“You came in late.”

“But one of the First Years fell and I took them to the Hospital Wing! You can ask Madam Pomfrey!”

“I know you did. One of your friends explained.”

“But why then?”

“Well, it wasn’t that you were late. You just didn’t apologise for being late. That’s all.”

“Oh, no I didn’t, did I? I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

*

“She hates me, doesn’t she?”

“Of course she doesn’t, Harry,” said Hermione, not looking up from looking through the wallpaper pattern books she was surrounded by.

“So why did you spend the entire morning walking around the lake, then?”

“What?” she said looking up with a confused expression. “Oh, that. No, we hardly talked about you at all, actually.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Harry, a moment ago you were worried we were talking about you, and now you’re complaining we didn’t talk about you! Please, make your mind up!” Hermione cried, grinning at him.

“Ha, ha,” he replied flatly before getting up and kissing her.

“So what did she want to talk about?”

“That’s between us. If she wants to tell you, she will.”

“Nothing I should know about then, as her concerned Head of House?”

“Nothing I would ever dream of telling her Acting Head of House.”

“Ah! So you were plotting against me!” Harry cried in mock madness.

“Harry, do you get paid for all the paranoia or is this something you do to get extra enjoyment from your job?”

Harry snorted and sat down next to her. They looked through the books together for a while.

“Um, Harry? Would you be terribly upset if I sold your house in London?”

“It’s our house, Hermione. Sell or give?”

“Sell, actually. I hate staying there now you spend all of your time here. It’s so lonely. I’d rather commute if it means we could spend more time together.”

“Sure. I was hoping to spend more time there, but being Head of House has kind of put paid to that.”

“I was talking to Dobby, yesterday. I think we should ask him to handle everything, for a commission, of course.”

“That would be fine. Just make sure we don’t sell to anyone that Ginny and Neville won’t like.”

“It’ll be a shame to move away from them. To be honest, I’ve spent more time round theirs than at home lately.”

“Well, makes up for all the time they spent with us, doesn’t it? Dobby doesn’t know any decent interior decorators, does he?”

“Well, he designed most of the SPEW premises himself. Maybe we could ask him to do it?”

“Great idea!” said Harry, throwing the wallpaper sample book aside and scooting over to Hermione and kissing her neck until she gave up looking through her book and gave him the attention he felt he deserved.

*

“Dobby, it’s really great to see you, and everything, but do you know it’s five o’clock in the morning? A Sunday morning, at that!”

“Yes, Harry Potter! Dobby received Harry Potter’s letter and wanted to help him at once!”

“Well, thanks Dobby, but it really wasn’t that urgent.”

“Would Harry Potter prefer Dobby went away?” asked the elf, his ears drooping slightly.

“No, Dobby,” Harry said at once, “it’s always nice to see you.”

Dobby looked uncertainly at the closed bathroom door and said nervously, “Does Miss Hermione want Dobby to stay as well?”

“Of course she does, Dobby. Honestly, she wakes up screaming and runs straight to the bathroom all the time. Don’t worry about it. You just see, she’ll come out again in a few minutes, all smiles.”

Dobby didn’t look convinced.

“Maybe she was a little surprised to see you,” Harry admitted.

“Does Miss Hermione often sleep with no clothes on your couch?” asked Dobby suspiciously.

“So, what are these things, Dobby?” asked Harry, hoping to distract his friend.

“They are sample boards, Harry Potter!” said the elf, suddenly sounding much brighter. “Dobby knew Harry Potter’s rooms and prepared a board for every room.”

“Well, these look really great. I’m sure they will look fantastic, but I do have one or two minor observations.”

“Dobby will change anything no match Harry Potter’s requirements!”

“Great. Now, I’m afraid the motif pattern has to go. I couldn’t face waking up and seeing hundreds of copies of my face on the walls, floors and ceilings.”

“But who will do the singing?”

“No singing wallpaper, carpets or anything, Dobby.”

5. Fruit Cake

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Five: Fruit Cake

“Dobby said it made more sense to do the place up and rent it out rather than selling it outright,” said Harry as he and Hermione made their way to the Headmistresses private dining room.

“Well, he would know,” agreed Hermione. “I suppose it would be nice knowing we had a place to go back to if we wanted.”

“If you agree, I’ll get him to draw up the papers. The elf co-operative will manage the building for us.”

“How much is Dobby charging?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t agree anything until I’ve beaten him up to at least ten percent.”

“Good. I’ll write to Ginny and Neville and let them know what is happening. Ginny mentioned inviting us over to dinner when we can manage it.”

“That would be nice.”

“You did have a word with Dobby, didn’t you? I mean, he knows not to barge in on us like that again.”

“Yes, he got the message.”

“But you didn’t upset him?”

“Well, you know Dobby,” Harry said. “He does get enthusiastic about things.”

They reached the highly polished door and Hermione stopped to straighten her dress.

“You look beautiful, Hermione,” he said, leaning in and kissing her gently on the neck.

Hermione smiled warmly and Harry knocked on the door.

*

“So, young Carmen really hasn’t played any tricks on you yet?” asked Flitwick with a wry smile.

Harry smiled and shook his head no.

“She’s obviously planning something significant. I am rather glad I’m retired!”

“I may want to join you!” Harry replied laughing.

Harry poured them both another glass of red wine.

“Mm, thank you,” replied Flitwick appreciatively. “This is an excellent wine you brought.”

Across the room, Hermione and Professor McGonagall were quietly chatting to each other. They had both limited themselves to a single glass over dinner, leaving Harry and Flitwick to finish the bottle.

“Do you miss teaching?” asked Harry.

“I do,” he admitted. “But I don’t miss having to be on call for every little thing. No, on balance, I prefer being able to rise late for breakfast! These days I rather enjoy a slower pace; indeed the weeds do tend to creep up on me.”

“It must have been difficult, balancing having a family and the demands of being Head of House.”

“Oh, we managed to get by. You get into a routine after a while.”

Harry nodded and smiled. Flitwick had taken retirement just after he had been widowed, a couple of years before.

“Minerva tells me you’ve settled in nicely with your Defence Against the Dark Arts classes.”

“It’s going well, although I’m a little worried that I’ll be good enough to get the OWL and NEWT years through their exams."

“Nonsense. I’ve seen the results of your teaching. I remember saying to Albus that I might have misjudged Delores Umbridge from some of the OWL and NEWT practical performances before she departed. He quickly told me what really happened, though.”

Harry smiled, remembering the pride he’d felt.

“Dear Albus,” mused Flitwick sadly, “I do miss him terribly.”

*

Harry stepped out of the fireplace into his office, the klaxon bells still ringing in his ears. He had just been rudely awoken. It was around two in the morning.

“What is it, Brian?”

“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you,” said the nervous First Year.

“It’s no problem.”

“I got this message, Sir,” he said holding up a piece of paper.

Harry took it and unfolded the paper. It was a message calling for the boy to return home immediately. His younger brother had been hurt in a car accident. It sounded serious.

“I’m sorry about your brother, Brian,” said Harry, returning his note. “You can Floo home from here. I’ll unlock the hearth so you can travel out.”

“My family aren’t wizards, Sir. We don’t have a Floo connection.”

“How did you get that message, then?”

“It was sent by telegram to the Hogsmeade Post Office. They sent me an owl. It only arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Okay,” said Harry, thinking fast, “go and get dressed and then meet me down in the entrance hall. I’ll meet you there in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you, Sir!” he shouted, dashing off.

*

“Honestly, Harry,” said Professor McGonagall with a smile as they sat together at breakfast the next morning.

“It was all I could think of doing,” he admitted.

“Yes, but now they’ll all want to do the same. You’ll never get a moment’s peace!”

“I can’t understand how everyone found out so quickly, though.”

“No?”

“Well, he just gave me a note to give to his friends to say he was okay and why he’d gone. How was I to know it was also a blow by blow account of our little adventure?”

McGonagall laughed and shook her head.

“He’s never written half as much for one of my essays,” Harry added with a smile.

“Well, flying by Thestral was probably quite inspirational, as well as terrifying.” she responded.

“Kingsley made it very clear how much trouble I’d be in if I got another reprimand so quickly. I didn’t think I should risk a Portkey.”

“So is his brother alright?”

“He will be, although it was touch and go for a while.”

“You weren’t detected?”

“Have you any idea how difficult it is to perform healing magic from the other side of an observation window while the patient is connected up to all those monitoring machines and being surrounded by security cameras?”

“I’m sure his family were very grateful.”

“Actually, they thought I was some kind of nutter. You’re probably going to get a letter about me as well.”

“I look forward to reading it.”

*

Harry’s Third Years were now about halfway through their systematic destruction of their Slinkhard text books. Harry had instigated a reward system where the prize was for the student to have their textbook destroyed.

As the bell went to signal the end of the period, Harry said, “Well done. I want you all to practise that spell and write me two feet describing the uses you can put it to.”

As the chairs scraped and chatter increased, Harry vanished the tattered remains of the book covers with some satisfaction.

He put away his things and was about to leave himself, when he realised Carmen was still present.

“Anything the matter, Carmen?”

“No, I just wanted to tell you something.”

Harry raised his eyebrows enquiringly.

“Um, you know that Hermione is still very keen on promoting House unity? Well, I’ve decided to begin a
cross-house project.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, good luck with that. Is that it?”

“No. I’ve decided that you’ve had time to settle in now, and so you should be prepared for a little welcoming to mark the event.”

“And this is your cross-house project?”

“Absolutely,” she said smiling at him.

Harry smiled wryly and said, “Well, so long as you remember, I have no problem giving cross-house detentions either.”

Carmen grinned widely.

“Please also remember,” warned Harry seriously, “if anyone gets hurt, it will be your responsibility.”

Harry showed Carmen out of the room. As he watched her walk down the corridor, he felt more than a little trepidation. He wasn’t worried about himself and he knew Carmen wouldn’t deliberately do anything too dangerous.

Although Harry knew he had to let Carmen make her mistakes so she could learn from them, he felt sure that it was almost inevitable that the whole thing would get out of hand.

Harry made his way to the staff room, and on his way mused what she might be planning. There would be a couple of false alarms, he was sure. If she was clever, and Carmen certainly was clever, no school rules would be broken. By the time he got there, Harry decided not to bother worrying about it.

*

“Welcome back, Brian,” said Harry as he paused at the Gryffindor table before going up to the staff table. “How’s your brother?”

“He’s fine now, thank you, Sir,” he replied, “although he’s still very nervous of traffic. Professor McGonagall wrote to my Mum and Dad and explained what you were doing and they understand now. They say they’re sorry for the way they reacted.”

“It was quite understandable,” Harry replied with a smile, “after all, they had more important things on their minds. I’ll see you later this morning.”

“Yes, Sir,” replied Brian before returning to his breakfast.

*

“Sir?”

“Yes, Brian?” asked Harry as the First Years exited the classroom.

Brian was standing before him with a small, carefully wrapped brown paper parcel tied together with string.

“Um, Mum packed me a few things before I went. She usually gives me some cakes or something for the journey. Anyway, I found this inside. I think this is just something to say thank you from my parents.”

He nervously offered the parcel out to Harry.

Harry was immediately suspicious. This was exactly the opportunity Carmen would use to trick him. She could easily have overheard their conversation this morning, and Brian hadn’t mentioned anything then.

It also didn’t help that Brian was handling the parcel like it was an unexploded bomb.

Harry chided himself. Brian was nervous at the best of times. Carmen also hadn’t given him any false alarms yet and his classmates hadn’t reacted at all. If they knew something, surely one of them would have given the game away. Unless, Harry thought, Carmen hadn’t told them. She might even have hidden the package for Brian to find and think was from his parents.

Harry decided to accept the parcel.

“Well, it really isn’t necessary, but please be sure to write and thank them for me,” said Harry taking the parcel.

It was surprisingly heavy.

“What do you suppose it is?” Harry asked casually. “It seems rather heavy. I do hope it isn’t anything expensive.”

“Mum’s cakes are often on the heavy side.”

“I’m sure it will be excellent,” Harry replied with a smile. “If it’s okay, I won’t open it here. I think I might share it round in the staff room. Professor McGonagall is quite partial to home baked cakes.”

Brian didn’t react.

Harry was sure either Brian wasn’t part of anything. He wasn’t that good an actor.

Harry thanked Brian again and made his way to the staff room.

*

“So who wants some cake?” asked Harry to guffaws of laughter from the other teachers in the staff room after he’d explained how he’d received his gift.

The parcel remained unopened on a small coffee table in the middle of the room.

“I can’t believe you carried it all the way here,” said one. “It may have exploded in the corridor!”

“I don’t think so,” said Harry. “Carmen wouldn’t want to get students by accident.”

As Harry advanced on the parcel, several staff members found they suddenly had other places to be urgently and the remainder retreated and took cover behind various items of furniture scattered around the room.

Harry aimed his wand and cut the string. The brown paper loosened slightly.

He gingerly picked up the parcel and removed the wrapping paper.

It was a plain cardboard box.

He carefully lifted the heavy lid and peered inside. There was a layer of white greaseproof paper.

Harry picked off the paper to reveal a large fruit cake.

A collective sigh of relief went around the room, but if anything, Harry was now more suspicious.

There was no note, other than his name that had been written in pencil on the wrapping paper in an unfamiliar hand.

The smell from the cake was quite mouth-watering. This cake looked every bit as good as one of Mrs Weasley’s creations.

*

“Enjoy your cake, Sir?” asked one of Carmen’s Third Year friends.

“It was delicious,” Harry replied. “I can thoroughly recommend Brian’s mother’s cooking. Enjoying a piece of her cake at lunchtime was a very nice treat,” he added so that Carmen didn’t need to get that information out of him.

Harry continued up towards the staff table.

He was sure Carmen would now be working out the expected time when whatever she put in the cake would activate. There would be a margin for error, since she didn’t know the precise time they ate the cake.

There was an unusually high degree of secretive whispering in the Great Hall that dinnertime.

Harry sat down and was immediately interrogated by Professor McGonagall.

“What is going on?”

Harry quickly explained about the cake.

“Not that fruit cake in the staff room. The cake I had a slice of this afternoon?”

“Yes,” replied Harry with a smile. “Nice, wasn’t it?”

“I’d better get up to Poppy. Whatever is going to happen, I don’t intend to make a spectacle of myself in front of the entire school.”

She started to rise, clearly annoyed with Harry that he should have left such a cake out.

“Just sit and enjoy the show,” said Harry reassuringly. “I ate some of that cake as well. Actually, I had two slices.”

“You neutralised whatever it was then?”

“No, I’ve no idea what it was. I’m rather intrigued to see the results, actually. I think it will be timed to activate towards the end of dinner for maximum effect.”

Professor McGonagall frowned at him, but then relaxed again into her seat.

“Well, at least I’ll be in good company if anything happens.”

Harry smiled at her and passed the potatoes.

*

As he poured himself another after dinner cup of coffee, Harry noticed another wave of whispered messages flow through the Great Hall, which had remained surprisingly full.

Harry had seen Carmen give the signal.

The effects of the cake would begin in a couple of minutes.

He burped discretely and muttered, “Pardon me,” while patting his stomach in an exaggerated manner. The whole school was waiting for something to happen.

Professor McGonagall looked at him with mild alarm.

“Should we make a dash for the Hospital Wing?”

“Oh, no, thanks. I’m fine. By the way, I happen to know that a small group of Gryffindors also enjoyed some rather fine fruit cake this lunchtime.”

“Really?”

“Indeed. I think you should know that I feel terribly guilty now. Swapping the cakes back wasn’t a very nice thing to do.”

“Well,” Professor McGonagall said as the signs of a small commotion began at the Gryffindor table, “so long as you feel a little guilty, that’s the main thing.”

Howls of laughter echoed around the Great Hall as students scrambled away from the stricken group.

Harry estimated that there were around a dozen people affected, including Carmen. He was glad to see that Brian was fine. Clearly, he had nothing to do with it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” said Professor McGonagall, smiling and getting up, “I’ll see if I can spot those that might have been involved.”

She got up and made her way over.

Harry didn’t think she would have too much trouble picking out the individual students, although he was rather glad he didn’t need to get any closer. The smell was quite extraordinary, even at his distance.

Gradually, the stricken students got up and made their way to the entrance doors. It looked like Carmen had indeed managed to involve people from each of the Houses, although about half of them were Gryffindors.

*

Harry pushed open the doors to the Hospital Wing and made his way up to the only bed concealed by a privacy screen, positioned to ensure that the patient was screened from viewers standing at the entrance.

He peered around the screen and asked with a smile, “How are you doing?”

Carmen was sitting up in bed, looking utterly miserable, looking at herself with a small hand mirror.

“What does it look like?” she spat.

“Well, you look much better than a while ago. It hardly notices now.”

“Sure,” she replied sarcastically, looking up at him for the first time. Her skin now only had a faint green tinge, but the red and white Sickle sized spots all over her face were still quite noticeable.

“How are the others?”

“Fixed up and gone. Teach me to have a second slice.”

Harry snorted.

“That was a really mean thing to do, though. Swapping the cakes back like that.”

“But it would be okay for me and the rest of the staff to eat it?”

“I didn’t make you offer it around, did I?”

“What exactly did you put in the cake?”

“Oh, just something I concocted over the holidays. It was more of a challenge to duplicate the cake and all the packaging, actually.”

They heard the entrance door open again and then the footsteps of someone coming over to them.

Hermione came around the screen, wearing a wide sympathetic smile for Carmen.

Carmen smiled back.

“How are you?” asked Hermione warmly.

Carmen shrugged.

Harry was about to excuse himself so they could talk when Carmen asked coldly, “Is that all, Sir?”

Hermione gave him a small understanding smile.

“Goodnight, Carmen. I hope you fee better soon,” said Harry gently, before leaving.

*

“I’m sure Carmen will get over it,” Hermione said reassuringly to Harry back in their suite.

Harry had found that Carmen’s last words had upset him even more than he realised at the time. Even after a long night-time walk around the lake, he couldn’t get her words out of his head. He returned late to find Hermione waiting for him.

“She’s just a little upset. Not really with you, but she’ll probably take it out on you anyway.”

“Really?” Harry said miserably.

“You have to realise, Harry. Girls of Carmen’s age are very sensitive. Small things like a bad hair day or wearing the wrong thing can mean so much. She’s torn. She wants to stand out and yet blend in at the same time.”

“Hermione, perhaps you could assume I’ve no idea what you are talking about.”

Hermione sighed.

“Harry, I’m not sure I should tell you too many specifics. About Carmen, I mean.”

“Okay,” Harry said lifting his arm and pulling Hermione closer. “Tell me about what you were going through at her age.”

“Me? That’s hardly a reasonable comparison. Carmen is actually quite pretty.”

“You’re beautiful too, Hermione, but what I meant is that neither of you appeared to be obsessed with girlish things like some of them.”

“Don’t you believe it, Harry. I still wanted to have nice hair and clothes, even if I couldn’t spare the time. I still cared what the others were saying about me, both to my face and behind my back.”

“So, if I’d given you cake that made you turn green and emit foul smelling gasses for a few hours, I wouldn’t be too popular with you either.”

“Well, obviously not. But that’s not all. I’d have been mortified to look like that in front of someone I was crushing on.”

“Who did you fancy then?” Harry asked in surprise.

“I would have thought it was obvious, actually. That’s what Ginny always tells me, anyway.”

Harry frowned slightly and Hermione said, “You were trying to understand how Carmen’s feeling, remember?”

“Okay, so she fancies someone?”

“She may do. The point is that she’s now thinking there is no way they’ll ever like her back now.”

“That’s silly, Hermione. I’d still fancy you if you were green and smelly. Actually, if there’s any cake left I’ll let you prove it.”

Hermione laughed and said, “That’s so nice of you, Harry!”

*

“You look much happier this morning,” observed Harry peering around Carmen’s privacy screen the next day.

Carmen was smiling but gave a start when Harry spoke. She hurriedly tucked a small, “Get Well Soon,” card under her sheets. Harry realised that this was probably why she looked in a much better mood.

“I wasn’t sure how long you’d be staying, so I brought you a couple of books to read.”

“Thanks, but hopefully I’ll be discharged this morning.”

“That’s good,” said Harry, noticing that her green colouring and spots had not improved noticeably over night. “Perhaps you’ll start a new fashion,” he observed before adding, “or perhaps someone in particular doesn’t mind that look.”

Carmen smiled and blushed deeply, despite her colour.

“So are we okay?” he asked.

“Yes, we’re okay,” she replied. “Thanks for asking Professor McGonagall not to punish us.”

6. Arrangements

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Six: Arrangements

Harry slammed the passenger door to the car and fumbled for the seat-belt. He had barely clicked the belt into place before Mr Granger reversed expertly off the driveway and then drove them off down the road.

He had no idea where they were going, but when Mr Granger offered him a chance to get out of the house, Harry had jumped at the opportunity.

Although Harry had always enjoyed the company of Hermione’s parents, he noticed a definite change in their attitude towards him since they had announced their engagement.

Harry remembered how uncertain he was when he first got to know them. He quickly realised how remarkably tolerant and supportive they were. It couldn’t have been easy seeing their only daughter go off into a strange new world, end then associate herself with himself. He’d lost count of the number of times being associated with him had placed Hermione at risk.

When Hermione’s parents first became aware of their relationship, Harry found Mr Granger to be a little distant but he always got on well with her mother. Harry accepted that it was never easy for a father to see his only daughter grow up, and made sure they remained on cordial terms.

Since their engagement, or rather, since they actually began to organise the wedding, things had changed slightly.

For himself, Harry was in no hurry to set an actual wedding date. He was perfectly happy as they were and supposed Hermione would pick a day that would suit them. For a while, Hermione didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to set a date either.

Harry was sure that changed when Mrs Granger got involved. Suddenly, and Harry could see no reason for it, Harry was seen as obstructive and difficult just because he didn’t want to choose the flowers for an event that would occur months ahead.

His attempts to explain that such details weren’t that important just got him into hotter water with his future mother in law.

To Harry’s surprise, Mr Granger became rather sympathetic towards him from that point on.

“Just agree to anything they want, Harry,” he had advised when the two of them had sneaked off when their partners weren’t looking. “They go kind of mental. The best advice I can give is go with the flow.”

Harry and Hermione had decided that their wedding would be entirely Muggle. They hoped to avoid the mania that surrounded both Harry and Hermione in the magical world these days.

Harry had imagined they would have a small ceremony accompanied by their closest friends and family, a dream which he all but abandoned after the first of Mrs Granger organisational arrangement meetings.

At one point he seriously considered transfiguring Mrs Granger into something less annoying. He was just making up a list of potential animals, when Hermione caught him.

She wasn’t pleased.

The car came to a halt in a parking space. Harry realised he had no idea where he was as he struggled to extricate himself from the seatbelt.

They locked the car and Harry followed Mr Granger as he made his way the short distance across the newly laid tarmacadam surface and through the automatic doors.

*

Harry sat in the Granger’s living room looking through the glossy brochures they had picked up. There was something very enticing about the luxurious satin feel card and expensive printing.

Hermione came in and immediately eyed the brochures suspiciously.

Harry was certain Hermione wouldn’t believe the story Mr Granger had insisted they stick to. Namely, that Mr Granger had dragged Harry out of the house so he could calm down and talked into being reasonable. They had ended up in the car showroom by shear coincidence and had looked around for something to do before returning.

As Mr Granger constantly reminded Harry on the way back, they absolutely had not been for a test drive, they hadn’t signed anything and they definitely hadn’t paid a deposit.

“You can’t even drive, Harry,” said Hermione.

“We could learn,” he replied, deciding that it perhaps wasn’t the time to admit he could now drive, having been sent on a genuine Muggle Advanced Driver Course as part of his Auror training. It was sometimes very handy being able to use alternative transport. Of course, he would need to pass the test and get a proper Driving Licence.

“But, we don’t need a car.”

“Well, these kinds of cars aren’t exactly sold on a need basis.”

“They aren’t very ecological.”

“What car is?”

“Where would you keep it?”

Harry grinned at her, and it was only then that Hermione appeared to realise he wasn’t serious.

Hermione sat down next to him and began to look through the brochures as well.

“So what colour do you like?” she asked, “I like this red one.”

“That one that happens to be rather quick.”

“Really? I just like the colour.”

“What about this nice metallic blue one?”

“Depends, how fast does it go?”

*

As Harry stretched out on the living room settee later that evening, having just put out the lights, he realised that he needed to work a lot harder at the whole, “going with the flow,” thing, as Mr Granger had put it.

Harry felt he had done well, at the beginning, that is.

Dinner that Saturday evening had been friendly and even enjoyable for the most part. Admittedly, this was in no small part due to Mr Granger hastily changing the subject whenever anything remotely wedding related was mentioned.

Eventually, though, Mrs Granger wouldn’t be put off any more.

Out came her brand new, multi-coloured, neatly labelled box files. Harry was sure there had only been four that morning. Now there were two more!

Harry managed to nod and smile at Hermione’s prompts.

Yes, that flower arrangement would be perfect.

Yes, we just have to have that photographer.

Yes, we were so lucky to book the church we wanted.

At this point Harry almost failed to give the required answer. Thankfully, Mr Granger pushed a glass of his favourite scotch into his hands and Harry regained his composure.

No, that other church would have been far too small.

Yes, the hall would be perfectly situated for the reception.

Yes, that Rolls Royce would be perfect. Of course we need three!

And so on.

Towards the end, Harry wasn’t paying a blind bit of notice. One eye kept drifting towards the football game on the television. Harry had no idea who was playing, and he wasn’t likely to find out soon as, in deference to Mrs Granger’s wishes, the sound was muted.

Harry felt another piece of paper being thrust into his hands.

He glanced down.

Harry would later wish he had just unfocussed, ignored whatever was on the paper and copy Hermione’s, “yes,” or, “no.”

Had Mr Granger not become engrossed in the game at that point, perhaps he would have come to Harry’s aid with another glass of something.

Unfortunately for Harry, he read the paper and then swore. Loudly.

*

Harry heard the living room door open and then close again. By the orange light of the street lamp outside, Harry watched Hermione’s outline cross the room silently and join him on the settee.

She curled up next to him and he wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m really sorry, Hermione.”

“Me too,” she said softly, stretching up to kiss him. “I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t bear it if we hadn’t made up before the morning.”

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“The catering quotation was a bit expensive, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but that wasn’t it. We can afford it, but what about the number of places? I had no idea there would be so many.”

“Well, Mum thought we’d want that many. There’s also quite a few distant relatives to invite and a lot of their friends they want to come.”

Harry sighed deeply.

“I’ll go along with anything you want, Hermione. This is your day, after all.”

“Our day, Harry,” she corrected him.

“No, it won’t be. To be entirely honest, I was really looking forward to a much smaller affair. Just our closest friends and your immediate family. I just feel that we’ve escaped very little by having a non-magic wedding. We’re going to be a spectacle for the entertainment of hundreds of complete strangers.”

They were quiet for a few moments.

“Is this really how you imagined you would marry?” Harry asked.

“I never thought I would marry, actually,” she admitted. “But, no, this isn’t what I imagined. Perhaps I should have a word with Mum.”

“No, we should speak to your parents together, if we need to at all.”

They were quiet again.

“Um,” said Hermione tentatively, “have you given any thought to who you’re going to ask to be best man?”

“No, I’ve spent most of my time trying to work out how we can smuggle Dobby and Winky into the service. I’d really like them to be there.”

“That would be nice,” she agreed sleepily.

Harry shook her gently.

“You can’t sleep down here. I don’t want another row with your mother, especially if we have bad news for her about her arrangements. Hermione, are you mucking about? Hermione!”

Hermione was fast asleep.

*

Mr Granger gave the living room door a discrete tap as he passed through the ground floor lobby on the way to the kitchen in the morning.

Hermione crept back upstairs and Harry staggered into the kitchen.

“Thanks,” he muttered as Mr Granger placed a steaming mug of tea in front of him at the table, “for the tea too.”

Mr Granger smiled and sat down opposite him with his own tea.

“I’m afraid Hermione and I want to change the wedding plans a little.”

Mr Granger nodded and said gently, “Don’t worry about it. She’ll soon come around. I warned her you would want to scale things down a little.”

Harry smiled and nodded.

*

To Harry’s relief, Mrs Granger appeared to accept their wishes with regard to the wedding arrangements.

Indeed, she actually became quite enthusiastic again when Harry described how they would like the day to go.

The sit down reception was out completely, but a buffet would be far less ostentatious. As far as Hermione’s family were concerned, Harry was a junior teacher and Hermione a lowly civil servant.

Harry also agreed that Mrs Granger could invite as many as she wanted for the afternoon reception, which would extend into the evening. However, the actual church service would be limited to close friends and family and there would also be a wedding breakfast that would be attended only by those aware of the wizarding world.

When Harry and Hermione Apparated back to Hogsmeade on Sunday evening, Harry realised he was actually feeling optimistic about the wedding again.

*

“Neville?”

Neville looked around and smiled seeing Harry’s head in his kitchen fire.

“Hi, Harry!” he replied. “You must have smelled the coffee. Come over and have a cup?”

“Er, thanks, Neville, I think I will.”

A moment later Harry climbed out of the fireplace and put his glasses back on. Even after all these years he still hated travelling by Floo Powder. We took out his wand and cleaned himself off before going over to Neville who was busying himself at the stove making their evening meal.

“Stay for dinner?”

“I’d like to, but no thanks,” replied Harry. “I need to get back in a bit.”

“So, what is it?”

“This is kind of awkward, Neville. Hermione wants me to choose a best man.”

“It’s okay, Harry. I understand.”

“I’m not sure you should, actually.”

“Just go and ask Ron. If he refuses, I’ll be honoured to accept should you not want to ask anyone else.”

“Thanks, Neville. I really appreciate your being so understanding.”

“So, when are you thinking of going over there?”

“Probably sometime next week. Actually, it will have to be the week after. I have a free afternoon and I’m sure Professor McGonagall won’t mind if I skip off for a couple of hours.”

“How long has it been since you spoke to Ron?”

“I don’t know. Couple of years, I suppose. Probably more, actually.”

“Well, good luck. You’ll need it, unfortunately. Ginny and I saw them a couple of months back. I say them, but you know what I mean.”

Harry nodded sadly.

“Ginny said you and Hermione are available for dinner this weekend.”

“We are?” asked Harry stupidly.

Neville grinned and said, “I’m glad I’m not the only one who forgets things!”

Harry smiled and nodded.

“Let’s hope Hermione reminds me to bring the wine.”

7. An Old Friend Returns

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Seven: An Old Friend Returns

Harry staggered out of the fire in his office. This time the klaxon had gone off at nine o’clock in the evening, so at least he was awake this time.

He found a rather distraught looking Carmen waiting for him.

“Carmen, are you alright?”

“Um, is Hermione still here?”

“No, sorry,” he replied, “she’s staying in London tonight. She has an early meeting tomorrow. Carmen, why did you pull the emergency cord?”

Carmen looked at him uncertainly and suddenly Harry was worried about just what Carmen would need to speak to Hermione about.

“Um, do you need to speak to a female member of staff, Carmen?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.”

“So, what is it?”

Carmen frowned and nervously bit her finger, a most uncharacteristic thing for her to do.

“Please, Carmen. Let me help. Whatever it is, we can sort it out.”

“Oh, alright. Come with me up to the fourth floor?”

Harry followed.

They reached the fourth floor corridor and proceeded along it before Carmen was ready to explain herself.

“We were just up here a little while ago. My friend and I were making our way back to the common room when one of the Prefects came along on their patrol. We didn’t want to be seen, so we ducked into, er, this cabinet.”

Harry looked at it and opened the door.

“I haven’t seen this thing for years. It didn’t used to be kept here, though.”

“No, I don’t remember it being here either. I only realised it was a vanishing cabinet after the door closed.”

“Where did you come out?”

“The Charms store cupboard.”

“Your friend?”

“Missing,” she admitted, her voice cracking. A single tear fell down her cheek.

“Alright,” Harry said encouragingly. “Let’s find him first and have a good cry after, shall we?”

Carmen snorted and wiped her face.

“How did you know it was a he?”

“I guessed. Am I allowed to know who we are looking for?”

Carmen blushed and whispered a name.

“But he’s far too old for you,” said Harry seriously. “No, I think we should just leave him. He’ll turn up in a few months after you’ve gone off him.”

“No, we can’t just leave him!”

Harry grinned back at her.

*

“He’s in here?” whispered Harry.

“Yes, but I don’t see why we need him.”

Harry did though. He had checked his old Marauders’ Map and that showed nothing at all. They needed someone who knew the castle even better than the Marauders.

“Alohomora,” said Harry, pointing his wand at the lock.

Nothing happened.

“Here, let me do it,” said Carmen. “I put quite a strong
Colloportus spell on this door to keep him in here.”

“No, Carmen, I’d like another go.”

Harry didn’t like the idea of a student being able to seal a door that he, an Auror, was unable to open.

Harry concentrated, and said, “Alohomora.”

His charm was much stronger this time. The lock clicked and the door swung open.

Carmen looked impressed and a little of Harry’s pride was restored.

As they entered, lanterns lit inside the room.

The large stone room was completely empty, save for a large chest sitting on a small stool in the middle of the floor.

Carmen closed the door behind them.

“Why did you do that?”

“Well, this room is charmed as well as the chest. When you let him out of there you want to keep him here to talk to him, don’t you?”

Harry nodded and pointed his wand at the padlock securing the chest.

“Alohomora,” said Harry firmly.

The heavy padlock fell to the floor and the lid of the chest flew open.

“Arrrgh!”

Something invisible and furious flew out of the chest and circled them at an enormous speed.

After a short while, everything became still and quiet again.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry to the empty room, “but we know you’re still here. The room is charmed so you can’t escape. You might as well show yourself.”

Peeves the Poltergeist appeared before them.

He looked a shadow of his former self.

“Peeves, it’s been too long. I wondered why it has been so quiet around here.”

Peeves ignored him and was watching Carmen with a very wary look.

“Carmen has something to say to you, Peeves. Don’t you Carmen?”

Carmen was frowning slightly, but said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have locked you up, even if you did keep singing that song about me and Hydrus.”

“Um,” began Harry, “we were hoping to let you out.”

“Only hoping?” asked Peeves meekly.

“Well, unfortunately I’m not too sure the Headmistress will allow you to stay. Everyone’s got rather used to the quiet life, you see?”

Peeves looked at them both with a quiet desperation in his eyes.

“If only you could do something to help save a student. Then she’ll never be allowed to get rid of you or lock you away.”

Peeves’ expression became hopeful for a moment, and then he grew suspicious.

“Someone needs help now, don’t they?”

“Yes,” Harry admitted. “Will you help?”

“No, not unless this girl promises never to lock me up again.”

*

The negotiation for Peeves’ freedom took rather a long time, but eventually they came to terms.

It was now past midnight and Harry and Carmen were following Peeves as he continued his systematic search through the castle.

Harry was sure their search could be done far quicker if Peeves didn’t leave such a trail of destruction, but he’d all but given up arguing.

As Peeves sprawled another rude limerick on the chalkboard, Harry again looked at his watch.

“Come on, Peeves,” he urged, dodging the piece of chalk that was immediately thrown at him.

They followed to the next classroom, Peeves having gone straight through the connecting wall.

As they were about to enter, Sir Nicholas made an appearance.

“Oh, dear,” he sighed mournfully, “I see Peeves is back.”

“’Fraid so, Nick, sorry,” said Harry. “We’re looking for someone who disappeared into the vanishing cabinet on the fourth floor. I don’t suppose you’d like to help?”

“Of course, I would be only too happy to render any assistance I can, but isn’t there a formula for that cupboard?”

“How do you mean, Nick?”

“Well, the time and date that the person enters determines where and when they will reappear. Or so I thought.”

“What if two people entered at the same time?”

“I imagine both people would reappear not too far apart and roughly at the same time.”

“Peeves!” both Carmen and Harry shouted into the classroom.

“Come on, we need to look in the Charms department!”

*

The four of them entered the main Charms classroom. Harry and Carmen had run almost the whole way and were panting from the effort.

“Nick?” gasped Harry. “Will you check the rooms above and below where we are now?”

“Delighted,” said the ghost as he floated off.

“Peeves, you know the drill. Check all the hidden voids in the walls before you start trashing the pace.”

Meanwhile, Carmen was opening all the cupboards. Nothing.

She proceeded to check under all the desks, just in case.

Sir Nicholas reappeared.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing in the classrooms and I checked the floor voids as well.”

“Peeves is certainly taking his time,” said Carmen shortly.

“Nick, would you mind checking on him. He may have been tempted to sneak off again.”

The ghost floated off into the wall.

Harry perched himself on a desk and wiped his face.

“I should really go and tell Professor McGonagall. Perhaps she might have an idea where to search.”

Sir Nicholas dashed out of the opposite wall he’d just gone through.

“Peeves has found him!”

“Where is he?”

“He’s not exactly anywhere just jet. Peeves is trying to find a passage so you can get to him, but it may take quite a while through all the passages. I must admit I would never have found him. He found him in an area we ghosts never like to go. It has always given me the most peculiar feeling.”

“What did you mean, not exactly?” asked Harry but at that point Peeves came dashing in through the classroom door.

“This way! I’ve found a passage but the entrance is two storeys down!”

They followed Peeves’ mad cackling at a run.

*

Before they entered the secret passage hidden behind a suit of armour, Harry sent Sir Nicholas to raise the alert with Professor McGonagall and asked him to return to them in case they needed any help.

Harry had wanted to send Carmen, but she insisted upon coming with them.

Harry and Carmen whispered, “Lumos,” and their wand tips flared brightly to reveal a narrow stone passageway. The floor was loose rubble and spider webs crossed everywhere. The air was old and stale.

“Okay, Peeves, take the lead,” said Harry. “Try not to get too far ahead, though.”

Peeves floated off into the darkness, cackling and singing the very song Carmen had locked him up for.

They stumbled along behind him.

*

Harry secured himself and then leaned over the ledge he had just climbed up to. He grasped Carmen’s arm and heaved her up. Fortunately she was fairly light.

Carmen scrambled onto the ledge.

“Where to now?” she asked.

“Through there,” Harry replied, pointing to a small opening in the base of the wall they were standing against.

Carmen crouched down and dived through the opening.

Harry followed but found he only just squeezed through.

Ahead he could see Carmen’s wand light flickering as she hurried to keep up with Peeves. When Harry had finally got through, he found he was in total darkness again. He lit his wand tip and shone the narrow beam around the high passage.

Harry had no idea how the castle could hold such large secret passages. There hardly seemed room.

He hurried onwards again, hearing Carmen and Peeves’ echoing arguments in the distance.

*

By the time Harry caught up with them, Carmen and Peeves had stopped arguing.

“How much further, Peeves,” he asked.

For some time Harry had been worried how they could get the boy out once they found him. The route they’d followed had been fairly tortuous, and they hadn’t been carrying someone who was injured.

Peeves was floating just above their heads when they came to a shear vertical wall.

“He’s in a chamber just up there,” he said pointing upwards.

Harry and Carmen pointed their wand lights up.

There was a small opening in the wall about thirty feet above them.

Harry knew at once that they would not be able to climb up unassisted.

“Peeves, will you go and check on him while we think of a way to get up there?”

He nodded and flew up at once, the tiny bells on his hat and shoes ringing.

“What do you think?” asked Harry.

“You could levitate me up there.”

“No, it’s quite high up and there’s nowhere to grab hold of if you slipped or I dropped you.”

They thought.

“Let me try something,” said Harry. “You may feel a little weird, but Moody once did this on me.”

Carmen braced herself as Harry aimed his wand at her.

“Gravitas Suspendo.”

“Nothing happened, Harry,” Carmen said.

“Jump,” he said simply.

Carmen gave a small jump but laughed as she flew feet up into the air.

“You’ll need to be careful,” Harry warned. “It’s only a temporary charm.”

“Should I try the same charm on you?” asked Carmen, still floating in the air.

“It might be safer of you check on Stephen first. Then we can decide what to do.”

“Okay,” she said and then made wild arm and leg movements. “Er, Harry? How do I move?”

“You have to swim through the air. You are weightless, so you can push yourself against the air like it was water.”

“But Harry, I’m not a good swimmer.”

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to be stylish!” he replied, shaking his wand and sending her on her way with a blast of air from this wand.

Carmen shot upwards until she was level with the opening. With some effort, she managed to reach the wall and disappeared.

For a few agonising seconds, all Harry could see was flickering shadows.

He was about to shout up when Carmen’s head appeared at the opening. Harry could tell she was upset even in the half-light.

“He’s here!” she shouted down to him. “But I don’t know what to do!”

“Calm down, Carmen,” Harry said reassuringly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Carmen wiped her face on the inside lining of her robes. Like Harry, her clothes were filthy now.

“He keeps fading in and out,” she explained.

“He may be concussed, Carmen.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. He’s literally fading, just like a ghost!”

“Are Peeves and Sir Nicholas there?”

“Yes, they are both here,” she replied and ducked her head back inside.

Peeves and Sir Nicholas appeared and floated down to him.

“Harry, I feel unwell,” said Carmen from high above.

“It’s probably being weightless, Carmen,” said Harry loudly. “Take deep slow breaths.”

“It may that room up there,” suggested Sir Nicholas. “It certainly gave me the creeps.”

“Tell me about Stephen,” demanded Harry.

“As Carmen said, he’s fading in and out. When he’s all there he’s solid, but it is almost as if the vanishing cabinet won’t let him go.”

Harry sighed.

“Can we get him out of there?”

“Carmen tried to move him, but he just fades and reappears in his original position.”

“Great,” muttered Harry as the unmistakable sound of Carmen retching could be heard from above them.

“Carmen?”

“I was sick,” came a weak voice from out of the darkness. “That’s strange though.”

“What is it, Carmen?”

“It’s gone!”

“What?”

“That room up there must be an extension of the vanishing cabinet,” concluded Sir Nicholas.

Harry thought.

“What if we smashed the vanishing cabinet?”

“We’d risk losing the boy,” said Sir Nicholas.

“Okay, but what if we timed it when he was solid?”

“I still think that destroying the cabinet would mean there is a very good chance of also destroying that room and anything inside it.”

“Could we summon him out at the right moment?”

“But how would we time it?”

“How close are we to the vanishing cabinet?”

“It’s right through that wall. We are very close here.”

“So, you could float through there quickly. Let’s do that. Peeves can smash the cabinet when you give the word. Carmen and I will summon the boy out of there at the right moment.”

Peeves was looking amazed that they were proposing to smash something so old and valuable. He wasn’t angry, just annoyed he hadn’t suggested it.

“Carmen?” Harry shouted up.

“Here, Harry!”

“Come right to the edge of the opening. We need you to be able to see Stephen and shout when he’s solid.

“Nick, you’ll need to come back here so we know it’s safe to summon him out of there.

“Carmen, you’ll then summon Stephen to you. I’ll do the same for you. Hopefully we can pull you both out in time before the cabinet is destroyed.”

“But I won’t be able to hold him up,” protested Carmen. “He’ll drop like a stone from up here.”

“Ready?”

“Okay,” said Carmen uncertainly.

“Good. Peeves? Would you like to get ready? Remember to wait for Sir Nicolas’ signal.”

Peeves vanished through the wall and they waited.

“Carmen?”

“Wait, he’s just fading out again.”

At that moment a loud familiar voice echoed around them.

“PEEVES! ARE YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS MESS?!”

It was Professor McGonagall, and she wasn’t in a good mood.

“He’s back,” continued Carmen.

“WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?”

“Getting stronger.”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT SLEDGE HAMMER?”

“Almost.”

“IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT DAMAGING THAT CABINET…”

“Solid!” shouted Carmen.

Sir Nicholas hurtled through the wall and was back almost at once.

“Now!” he shouted, not troubling to straighten his head.

Harry heard Carmen shout, “Accio!”

He took careful aim and said, “Accio!”

Carmen flew out of the opening and Stephen followed.

From the speed of their descent, Harry realised that Carmen was now no longer weightless.

Harry performed a cushioning charm on them both and they landed with a heavy bump but otherwise safe.

Above, Harry could hear the sound of the vanishing cabinet being smashed. The room was being destroyed as Sir Nicholas had predicted.

Harry shot over to check Stephen. He was still unconscious but appeared to be okay. At least he was solid again.

“Well done, both of you,” panted Harry.

Carmen reached over and clasped Stephen’s hand.

“How thick is that wall, Nick?”

“About three feet,” he answered, “but there should be a narrower strip of wall over there.”

He pointed deep into the shadows. Harry shone his wand light over at the stone wall. There was a rough alcove there.

Harry walked over, but as he approached there was a loud thumping noise. Dust fell from the stone joints as the noise got louder.

Suddenly, one of the stones became dislodged in front of him. Then another.

Harry ran over to help. Peeves was smashing his way to them from the corridor, accompanied by more of Professor McGonagall’s shouting, which ceased as soon as she realised people were trapped inside.

It wasn’t long before they all exited the concealed passage and out into the lamp lit corridor. Harry floated the stretcher he’d conjured out into the middle of the corridor and Carmen quickly guided it off towards the Hospital Wing.

Harry looked around. The splintered remains of the vanishing cabinet were all over the floor as were the remains of the wood panelling Peeves had removed making the opening they had exited from.

“Thanks, Peeves. That was good thinking.”

Peeves was floating and looking rather sheepishly at Professor McGonagall.

“Peeves found the boy and guided us to him,” said Harry dusting himself down. “I told him to smash the cabinet so we could rescue Stephen.”

“I see,” she replied, pointing her wand into the dark passage. Instantly the stone rubble jumped up and filled the hole. Another wave of her wand and the wood panelling repaired itself.

Harry looked on in wonder. Permanent transfigurations like that were very difficult to perform.

“This cabinet was not supposed to be here,” she observed. “I do not recall seeing it here before.”

“Neither did we,” admitted Harry.

“Peeves, I trust you will have no further use for that sledge hammer this evening,” she said firmly.

Peeves looked like he could think of many uses he’d like to put the hammer to that evening.

Harry pointed his wand at the hammer and transfigured it into a bunch of flowers, which Peeves immediately presented to her; flowers being less useful to him than a large hammer.

“Well, in recognition of the service you have provided,” she said reluctantly, “you may stay, Peeves.”

Peeves gave a cry of delight and sped off down the corridor.

“Oh, dear,” said Sir Nicholas miserably, “I’d better go and warn the other ghosts.”

“Thank you, Sir Nicholas,” said McGonagall, “and thank you for your assistance this evening.”

He bowed, skilfully keeping hold of his head, and then floated off through the opposite wall leaving the two of them alone.

“I don’t think we should repair this cabinet until we know what happened,” she observed.

“No,” agreed Harry as she vanished the debris from the floor.

“Why did Peeves come back, though?”

“I don’t think he ever left,” said Harry. “He upset Carmen and she locked him up for a while.”

“Goodness,” she said. “I keep forgetting how powerful she can be.”

“I’m afraid it was my idea to free him.”

“Well, he did find young Stephen. We couldn’t do without our Quidditch star player.”

“What is the current team like?”

“Not bad,” she said as they made their way up to the Hospital Wing. “Mind you, we stand no chance of winning the Cup while Ravenclaw have their current line up.”

“Well, maybe we should repair that vanishing cabinet after all!”

“Harry, sometimes I wonder if you wouldn’t have done better in Slytherin House.”

8. Champagne

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Eight: Champagne

Harry exited the large plant filled conservatory and made his way back to the kitchen, pausing to place the unopened bottle back into the cooler in the dining room. Harry always brought a bottle, so long as Hermione reminded him in time. Ginny wasn’t a great wine drinker, but she was partial to sweet, sparkling wine, so that was what Harry invariably brought. Today, though, he’d brought a bottle of champagne.

Although the house was, apart from the conservatory, a mirror image of their own London house next door, Harry still had to think about where he was in the house.

He found Ginny in the kitchen.

“I’ll open the champagne later,” he said taking a seat, “Neville’s showing Hermione some new plants in the Conservatory.”

Ginny snorted and said, “She really shouldn’t encourage him. He’ll be boring her silly for hours!”

Harry laughed and shook his head.

“No, I think she’s genuinely interested actually.”

Harry looked around the room. Unlike their old kitchen next door, Neville and Ginny’s kitchen wasn’t cluttered with a strange mixture of Muggle electric appliances and gadgets. Many of them were hand-me-downs gratefully received from Hermione’s parents.

“I can’t believe the amount of work they’ve completed already next door,” said Ginny, scraping a variety of cut and washed vegetables into a saucepan and placing it upon the stove.

The four of them had taken a tour of the building site next door a little earlier.

“Yes, they’ve done well,” agreed Harry.

“But we’ve never heard them, not once! You’d expect a certain amount of noise, wouldn’t you? The Muggles on the other side had a bathroom fitted out a few weeks ago and they made an awful racket. Of course, that was usually because they couldn’t work out why their power tools kept stopping,” she added with a grin.

“Mind you, my vocabulary of colourful language has grown considerably! Shame Neville has no idea what I’m calling him.”

Harry doubted that, but said nothing.

One of the side effects of living next to a house that used magic was that quite often, electric powered items tended to become a little unreliable. This wasn’t usually that serious, things like clocks and videos resetting themselves tended to be accepted as normal unreliability after a while.

However, Neville and Ginny’s home used even more magic than might be considered usual. Harry had installed many magical protections before they moved in, but they had decided not to make the houses Unplottable as well.

These protections were also for Hermione and himself, of course, but the priority at the time had been to protect Neville and Ginny.

One of the reasons they ended up as neighbours sharing each half of a semi-detached house, was that it became much easier to protect the entire building.

“You know?” continued Ginny, still speaking about the elf builders. “The only time I’ve ever heard them was once when I went out shopping. As I passed your front gate, loads of banging started! It was as if they were waiting for me to go out!”

Harry laughed. They probably were.

“When I came back it was all quiet again, so I Apparated inside from here to speak to them. I only found one elf, the Foreperson I think. He was just worried they’d made too much noise. I told him it was fine if they needed to make a little noise, but we still haven’t heard anything.”

Harry’s mind at that point was on the reason why Neville and Ginny needed so much protection. He was suddenly rather worried whether he and Hermione were doing the right thing about moving away to Hogwarts.

“Ginny, what do you really think about us staying away?”

“Don’t be silly, Harry. You can’t be tied here just because of us. Anyway, nothing has ever actually happened, has it?”

A loud ding sounded.

“Good, the meat should be ready. Now, as you’re here you can help me by making the gravy, and there had better not be any lumps. Remember,” she teased, “I like mine thin and Neville likes his gravy thick. It’s the only thing we argue over!”

Harry laughed and said, “Apart from my custard, right?”

“That wasn’t custard, Harry. The remains of what you made are still in Neville’s rock garden!”

Harry smiled and got up.

“Sure. Can I lift the joint out of the oven for you?”

“No, I’ve got it. Spread that tea towel on the table, though, will you? I don’t want to burn the table.”

Harry folded the towel and placed it on the edge of the table as Ginny opened the oven and reached in with her oven mittens.

There a delicious smell of roasting meat filled the room and Harry could see the air distort as the hot air rose out of the oven.

Ginny carefully drew out the large basting tin. She adjusted her grip and carefully lifted and turned.

POP!

Harry heard Neville and Hermione’s distant cheers coming from the living room.

Ginny started and the roasting tin, contents and oven hot fat flew into the air.

Harry reacted almost instantaneously and the scene, including Ginny was frozen. It was rather fortunate that Harry had developed quite a knack at freezing charms. He couldn’t actually stop time, but he could freeze movement for a short while.

He grabbed a spare tea towel and folded it over.

He took hold of the joint tray and positioned it. The tricky thing now was to catch all the hot fat which still had enough kinetic energy to splash back and burn whoever was unfortunate enough to get in the way. In this instance, it would be Ginny.

Harry unfolded the towel he was holding and draped it over the meat and tray. That would catch any flying fat.

He grabbed hold of the towel on the table. There were no others to hand, so the table would just have to get burned.

Instantly, Harry’s freezing charm faded and he caught the pan just in time. He quickly dropped the metal tray on the table, his fingers burning from the heat.

Ginny, who had also been frozen but had remained fully aware of what was happening, was released at the same time.

Harry fully expected her to berate him for burning her table, but instead she just collapsed.

Harry quickly knelt and held her arms, fearing at first she’d been hit by something hot that he had not anticipated.

Ginny rose up and Harry realised she was just upset.

Going very red, she muffled her crying against his chest.

“It’s okay, Ginny,” he said gently. “It was just the champagne being opened, that’s all.”

Harry became aware that Neville was standing behind Ginny. He gently stroked her back and she turned at once and fell into his arms.

Neville gave him a smile and a small nod. Harry nodded back, turned and left the room, collecting a worried looking Hermione at the kitchen door.

*

Harry and Hermione sat in the living room. They would leave once Neville returned.

“We are changing our plans, aren’t we?” whispered Hermione with a smile.

Harry looked up at her and smiled. She hadn’t really needed to ask.

He nodded and took hold of her hand.

“Just checking.”

After a few minutes Neville entered the room.

“Ginny’s resting,” he said. “She’ll be fine in a bit.”

“We’ll go, Neville,” said Harry not getting up, “but would you mind if we talked about this first.”

Neville nodded and sat down opposite them.

“I’m glad you’re so quick with freezing charms these days,” said Neville, smiling. “Thanks. I wouldn’t have been anywhere nearly as quick.”

“How long has she been like this?” asked Harry with concern.

“It’s been coming on for a while now,” Neville admitted sadly.

“I was convinced she was fine though,” said Harry.

“Ginny was fine, really she was. She still is, most of the time,” said Neville.

He continued more quietly.

“It began when the house elves moved out. Before then, they were constantly popping in to say hello. Hermione was back here most nights and even though you had your Auror duties, Harry, you were around most of the time.

“Then, for a while, Hermione came round most evenings after you’d gone up to Hogwarts, but then neither of you were around very much.”

“I feel terrible,” said Hermione. “The few nights I’ve been staying in London, I’ve been staying at the Leaky Cauldron. I didn’t want to be any more trouble.”

Neville smiled and shook his head no.

“We both know you only moved in next to us so that you could be here for us if anything happened. I think knowing that meant more to Ginny than we admitted to ourselves.”

“I’m sorry, Neville. I feel I’ve let you down again,” said Harry seriously.

“Harry, you weren’t responsible for what happened, and you can’t be expected to provide us with your personal protection for ever.”

Harry sighed deeply.

“I’m going to speak to Dobby tomorrow. I’ll ask him to change the plans. We won’t be renting next door out. I’ll just have House klaxon linked to next door. Then we can stay there. We did originally plan for me to commute up to Hogwarts, after all.”

“Please, Harry. We can’t ask you to do this.”

“You don’t have to ask, Neville. This is our decision.”

“What if we found somewhere else?”

“Okay, where?”

“Well, I don’t know right now.”

“Alright,” said Harry getting up. “Have a think about it. We’ll do the same, but in the absence of any realistic alternative we will move back in next door as soon as we can.”

*

Harry had assumed they would Apparate directly to Hogsmeade as usual, but Hermione had clasped his hand just before they Disapparated.

Harry allowed himself to be guided by her and they Apparated into their freshly painted lobby next door.

Harry stepped into the living room, his steps echoing around the rooms as he walked across the bare timber floor boards, but there was still no sign of the house elf builders.

“Harry, I’ve got an idea. But we’ll need to check with Dobby before we can tell Neville or Ginny.”

Harry grinned at her.

“Well, let’s see how he likes visitors arriving at unsocial hours!”

*

Hermione insisted that they call in at Reception rather than Apparating straight into Dobby’s rooms. Harry was sure Dobby wouldn’t have minded but he had to agree that they didn’t actually know where he was.

Harry looked around the enormous marble clad entrance lobby of the
House Elf Co-operative as they joined the end of a short queue in front of the large reception desk.

In front of them one of the young smartly dressed house elves on duty was handing out leaflets to the enquiring elderly gentleman while the other was reprimanding a sheepish looking old lady who had apparently inadvertently broken one of the terms and conditions of the service contract.

“Madam was not authorised to expand her kitchen. Only HECO personnel are permitted to do that in our properties. Apart from trying to get out of making an adjustment to your rents, poor Mrs Troop next door was almost squashed! Now, go and fill in this form and I’ll try and sort it out for you.”

The old lady took the form and walked over to the wall shelf opposite that was equipped with a variety of inks and quills in neat booths. She was accompanied by a loud, “Tsk,” from the house elf.

There was one more person in front of them now and Harry was rather hoping the friendlier elf would finish with her customer.

Unfortunately for the man in front of them, as soon as she saw Hermione the house elf gave a shriek of delight, and jumped over the desk and launched herself into the arms of Hermione.

“Miss Hermione! Welcome!”

“Thank you, Daisy,” Hermione replied grinning, “it’s wonderful to see you again!”

“But Miss Hermione and Mr Harry should not have waited!”

“We’ll wait our turn.”

The house elf turned to scowl at the poor man in front. How dare he remain in this queue! Fortunately the other elf finished and he hurried over to get served.

“There!” shouted the house elf jumping down and skirting around the desk and back onto her chair.

“Welcome to the House Elf Co-operative headquarters,” she squeaked with obvious delight. “How may I be of service?”

“We’d like to make an appointment to see Dobby, at his earliest convenience.”

At once she scribbled a note and pushed it down an open ended tube protruding for the desk.

“Dobby is in a meeting with some very important clients right now,” she advised seriously. “He left instructions not to be disturbed.”

“That’s no problem,” said Hermione smiling. “We can come back when it’s convenient.”

There was a peculiar gurgling noise and a note flew out of the end of the pipe.

She unfolded the paper and nodded.

“Dobby is right in the middle of negotiating new rents. He asks if you would go up to his private office and apologises if he has to keep you waiting.”

“Thank you, Daisy,” said Hermione warmly. She leaned in and whispered, “You’re doing a great job!”

The house elf beamed back at her.

Harry was about to ask the way but Hermione took Harry’s arm and walked him over to the lifts. The central lift doors opened at once.

The house elf lift attendant saluted them and bowed them inside.

*

They exited into a large lobby.

“Dobby’s office is on the right,” Hermione whispered. “The boardroom is on the left and ahead are the meeting rooms.”

They were about to knock and enter Dobby’s office when the pair of doors to the meeting rooms opened and out stepped two familiar faces.

“I can’t believe he just threw us out!” said Fred angrily.

“I can,” said George with a grin at Harry.

Fred groaned but stepped forward and shook Harry’s hand with a smile.

“I hope you realise how much your profits are going to suffer if Dobby gets his way,” said George, kissing Hermione on the cheek.

“It’s been ages,” said Fred as he greeted Hermione while Harry shook George’s hand.

“So, partner,” George said pointedly, “since you were kind enough to interrupt our negotiations, how about getting Dobby to cut us some slack?”

“You know I leave all those kind of negotiations to you two,” said Harry with a laugh.

Harry wasn’t too worried for Fred and George. For some time now, he’d split his considerable earnings from their venture equally between reinvesting in the twins’ schemes and donations to the SPEW organisations.

Fred and George grumbled loudly until their lift arrived.

Hermione and Harry watched the lift doors close behind the twins. At that moment a door opened and Dobby greeted them.

“Harry Potter and Miss Hermione are most welcome!”

“Thank you, Dobby,” they both said and entered.

“We’re really sorry for interrupting your meeting, Dobby,” said Harry.

“No trouble at all,” said Dobby with a smile. “They needed time to see the reasonableness of our offer. The increase is only to the service charge, not the basic rent anyway.”

“These offices are really impressive,” said Harry. “I had no idea.”

“Well, the entrance lobby is a recent addition.”

“It must have cost quite a bit. Is that in keeping with a not-for-profit organisation?”

“All the materials were reclaimed and we used the project to re-train craft-elves. That is why it took longer than anticipated, but the funding came from donations for training.”

Harry nodded and smiled.

“Well, your craft-elves certainly do a good job,” he admitted. “We were round at the house this morning and they’ve done wonders.”

“I trust everything was satisfactory?”

“It was, Dobby, but we need to ask for a few changes. We were round visiting Ginny and Neville today, and we need to change our plans. We won’t be renting the property out.”

“Did something happen?”

“It was my fault, Dobby. I forgot why we moved next to each other in the first place, that’s all.”

“Dobby knows they were in no danger, Sir,” admitted the elf sheepishly. “Dobby took the liberty of posting watch-elves whenever you were out of the house. They were protected night and day.”

“I had no idea, but thank you, Dobby,” said Harry warmly.

“There is no chance of them agreeing to move closer to Hogwarts, and nowhere else has the same degree of protective wards right now,” said Hermione.

“Yes,” agreed Harry. “It’s a pity Grimmauld Place was destroyed.”

“We were trying to think of our options, Dobby,” said Hermione. “We’ve told Ginny and Neville that we would move back and Harry would commute up to Hogwarts every day.”

Dobby nodded.

“What with Harry’s Head of House duties, it isn’t always that convenient.”

Although Harry still hated travelling by Floo Powder, and the prospect of twice daily bouts of dizziness hardly appealed, he didn’t mind that much. After all he could always Apparate into Hogsmeade as well sometimes, although long distance Apparition was always very draining.

Harry was about to protest when he noticed that, for briefest of moments, Hermione and Dobby were exchanging a meaningful look. It was as if Hermione was reminding Dobby about something unspoken.

“I was wondering,” continued Hermione lightly, “if the co-operative wouldn’t mind taking over the house again. Perhaps as a refuge as it was before. Anything, so long as Ginny and Neville were kept safe.”

“We’d pay for any adaptations of course, as well as whatever you want to charge for the work you've done already,” added Harry.

“We have a board meeting tomorrow,” advised Dobby. “Dobby will recommend that we accept your kind invitation to move back to the property.”

“Thank you, Dobby,” said Harry. “We really appreciate this. Would it be possible for us to keep the small room as before?”

“Dobby, please make sure all of the craft-elves who worked on the building so far know we are very pleased with their work. These changes have nothing to do with their efforts,” said Hermione seriously.

They ended their visit with a tour of the co-operative’s meeting rooms and grand boardroom, complete with its giant oval shaped low table and tiny chairs.

*

Harry and Hermione decided to walk back to The Leaky Cauldron.

“It was good of Dobby to make sure Ginny and Neville were alright, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” agreed Hermione, “but we need to find a more permanent solution. The problem isn’t just keeping them safe anymore, is it?”

“No, they need to feel safe.”

“Ginny told me a while ago they were trying for a baby, but it’s little wonder they haven’t been blessed if she’s feeling so much stress.”

“I didn’t even know they were trying,” admitted Harry.

They stopped for a moment outside one of the closed shops and looked absently into the window.

“Does Ginny ever talk about what happened?” asked Harry quietly.

“No, and I’ve never asked.”

Harry looked up and down the deserted street.

“Let’s go home,” he said gently.

9. Mud

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Nine: Mud

Harry found himself standing and staring into the forest. It was almost completely dark now and the night was getting colder.

He shifted his weight slightly and realised his muscles were cold and stiff.

He must have been standing there, at the edge of the forest, for hours.

Harry turned his back on the trees and slowly made his way back to the castle.

He carried away with him the uneasy feeling he’d arrived there with.

Something about Ginny’s reaction had stirred something within him. He just couldn’t describe what it was, nor why it made him feel this now, whatever it was.

The closest thing Harry had felt before was the absolute dread in the days leading up to the final battle. Then he had both dreaded what would inevitably happen and wished for it to hurry up and get it over with.

The same feeling was back, but this time he didn’t know who or what his enemy was.

*

Harry entered the main entrance lobby from outside. For a moment the subdued lighting was blindingly bright until his eyes became accustomed.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for him.

He wondered who else had been watching his eccentric behaviour that evening.

“Professor, would it be alright if I spoke to Professor Dumbledore’s portrait in your office?”

“He won’t speak to you, Harry,” she replied.

“Why not?”

“You need to place your trust in the living, Harry. Not the dead.”

Harry gave an angry huff.

“Go to bed, Harry. Hermione will be worried about you. It’s gone eleven.”

These last words shocked Harry out of his anger. He looked disbelievingly at his wrist watch. When he looked up again, she’d gone.

*

Harry stopped for a moment to get his bearings. He was standing on the grass verge of a quiet country lane. It had been at least five minutes since any traffic had passed him, and that had been an incredibly noisy and smoky farm tractor.

He stood next to a pole carrying power cables to the farmhouse he could see a few hundred yards ahead. Behind him, Harry could just about see the brightly coloured rendering of the village Pub through the trees.

Opposite him, on the other side of the road was an inconspicuous dirt track leading off into nowhere.

Harry was almost sure this was the one, but he wasn’t positive.

He crossed the road uncertainly, and was about to admit to himself that it might have been sensible to take Hermione up on her offer to provide specific directions, when he saw the stone marked hidden in the thick hedges.

Harry strode off down the track, peering through the gaps in the hedges each side to see the fields.

After a few minutes of walking, he took off his coat and slung it over his shoulder.

He had Apparated as close as he could, into a clump of trees just outside the village. Apparently, something about the geology of the local area made Apparition impossible, so this wasn’t an area popular with wizard families.

As he walked, Harry reflected upon the past few days. He wasn’t very proud of himself.

Every night this week he had found himself at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just staring and worrying for hours at a time.

His teaching was suffering too. He had been tired and irritable. He resolved, again, not to take his frustrations out on his students. He didn’t want to be that kind of teacher.

Worse still, he still hadn’t managed to talk to Hermione about it and he knew this was upsetting her.

Part of him was even a little relived that she had gone to stay with Ginny and Neville for a few days. At least he wouldn’t have to see her try to hide her hurt look.

*

Harry walked on for at least an hour before the track he was following headed towards a small wood. As he got to the tree line, the track did an abrupt right turn.

He walked forward, leaving the track and walking the few yards through the trees.

There wasn’t a path to follow but the trees were spaced far enough apart for Harry to know where he was going.

He exited the wood and stepped onto a wide gravel path. On either side were generous grass verges and beyond those a row of plants that definitely should not have been in flower at that time of the year.

He walked on, enjoying the sights and fresh smells of his surroundings.

Presently the path curved around and brought him to a large two-storey cottage. The whitewashed render walls and thatched roof looked almost new.

Harry walked up to the front door and knocked loudly. There was no answer and no sound of activity inside.

He didn’t try to open the door, but instead walked around the side to see if there was anybody in the back garden.

There were no side gates nor fences, and Harry found himself standing on the rear patio looking at one of the most beautiful gardens he had ever seen.

Harry walked forward, down the steps and along the gravel path to the small fountain in the middle where four gravel paths met, quartering the lawn.

He stopped for a moment and couldn’t resist dipping his fingers into the warm water. The gentle sound of the water falling into the stone feature was quite relaxing.

Harry heard footsteps coming towards him along one of the side paths.

Luna was walking towards him with a wide smile on her face. She looked quite extraordinary, with a wide summer hat and flowing white robes. She was carrying a large basket of fruit from the small orchard.

“Harry, it’s wonderful to see you!” she said as she approached.

“Hello, Luna,” said Harry warmly and she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “The country life seems to suit you. You look amazing.”

“Thank you, Harry,” she replied. “Come and have some tea.”

*

Luna placed a steaming cup of tea in front of Harry.

“Thanks,” he said, and immediately realised this wasn’t tea as he knew it. He smelled cautiously before taking a sip.

“It’s herbal,” she said taking a sip from her cup. “I made it myself.”

“Nice,” lied Harry, trying to ignore the bits still floating around the green liquid.

“Now, it is alright if I go, isn’t it, Harry?”

“I promise not to upset him,” said Harry. “Well, not on purpose, anyway.”

“Exactly. I can stay if you want, but I was really looking forward to seeing Ginny. Hermione wrote to me and hinted that she was upset.”

“Maybe some herbal tea would help,” said Harry, struggling not to grin. Fortunately, Luna wasn’t looking.

“That’s a good idea, I think I will take some.”

“Luna, this place is great. Those roses are especially nice.”

“Yes, they are rather wonderful. Neville spent an entire day planting them for me.”

“All I remember of this place was a muddy field, the last time I was here.”

“Well, I got fed up living in a tent so I decided to build something more permanent while I waited.”

“You still think he might come to his senses, then?”

“Of course, Harry. Everyone needs space, at some time in his or her life. These things take time sometimes. We’ve made lots of progress.”

“And I’m here to mess that progress up, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t say that, but if you could manage not to drive him deeper, I would be grateful.”

“You’re kidding?” said Harry before he could stop himself.

“He did stop digging for a while, but I think he started again recently after Ginny and Neville stopped by to shout their hellos.”

Harry sighed.

“I won’t get my hopes up then. Still, I have to try and talk to him. It wouldn’t seem right not having him as my best man, despite everything.”

“Of course! Congratulations!” cried Luna. “Molly sent us an owl inviting us to Arthur’s party, and she mentioned it then. We, er, didn’t quite make it though.”

“I really don’t know why you put up with him, Luna,” said Harry, but she wasn’t listening.

“Right, I think I’ve got everything.”

“Are you sure about Apparating, Luna? How long has it been?”

“Quite a while,” she admitted.

“Let’s not take any chances,” he said getting up and picking out a dried twig from an arrangement in a vase on the window ledge.

He tapped it with his wand and said quietly, “Portus.” The twig glowed electric blue for a moment.

“Here, this will take you directly to Ginny’s lobby.”

“Won’t you get into trouble?”

“Probably, but Kingsley hasn’t sent me a reprimand for days now,” he replied with a grin.

“Get Hermione to help you practise Apparition before the journey back. Don’t take any chances. She’ll want to guide you back anyway, knowing her.”

“Okay. Thanks Harry.”

“Ready? Three, two, one.”

In a flash, Harry was standing alone in the kitchen. He washed their two cups up in the sink and made his way back out into the garden.

He was outside before he remembered.

Harry returned to the kitchen and placed his wand in the kitchen drawer. It sealed itself upon closing. No one but himself could reopen the drawer.

Harry could almost hear Moody’s objections, but Harry had promised Luna that he wouldn’t take a wand.

He walked down the gravel path to the fountain and then went straight ahead.

As he went he mused about how, at one time, he felt so helpless and vulnerable without his wand. These days held no such fear for him. A year of intensive personal tuition from Dumbledore had rectified that, or rather he thought it had.

Harry snorted to himself remembering how confident he had been that Professor McGonagall wouldn’t have anything new to teach him about defensive magic when she took over responsibility for his training in his Seventh Year.

He had underestimated her then, and he was still doing so.

*

Harry followed the neat gravel path. After a couple of hundred yards the grass verges narrowed and on either side the cultivated fields extended for what looked like miles. The landscape was totally flat other than a few dotted woods.

After a few minutes the path diverted around a small clump of bushes that Harry remembered was where Luna had made camp the last time he was here. He vaguely remembered her telling him that these particular bushes had magical properties and shouldn’t be disturbed.

Once he had passed the bushes, the path reverted to its original course, a dead straight line from the rear of the cottage.

*

As Harry approached, he wondered what on earth he was looking at. The path just came to an end, and Harry was suddenly reluctant to step onto the grass for the final few yards.

Harry listened. All he could hear was a gentle breeze in the nearby trees and a few crows in the distance.

There was no sign of movement either.

Harry stepped onto the soft grass and noticed Luna’s footprint impressions.

He approached the structure and decided to walk around the edge before venturing inside.

Harry’s first impression was of a timber pioneering fortress. It was largely made of rough timber logs and the main walls were definitely there to keep people out except that there was also an open timber scaffold at the front that went high into the air. There were no lookout positions that Harry could see.

He continued to walk around. He hadn’t seen an entrance yet, although there were places he thought he could climb up.

He also saw a rope and pulley arrangement. Presumably that was where Luna delivered his food.

Harry saw movement inside at last, but he pretended not to notice.

He walked on slowly, rounding the first corner.

This next side was near to a wood and there were several stumps left. Presumably this is where he got most of his timber.

Harry walked to the next corner and looked along the rear wall. This face, and probably the final one, faced open fields.

He turned and retraced his steps until he found a large dry tree stump that he sat upon and surveyed the fortress before him.

Harry had the uneasy feeling that all this was to keep him out.

As he looked up, he realised that for some inexplicable reason, a burnt out car had been incorporated into the defences. Presumably he had found it somewhere.

Harry had been tracking the silent movements within the fort, but when he had turned he had lost his position.

He realised with some shock that he was now staring right into the face of Ron Weasley, looking out at him from between a gap in the timbers.

“How’s it going Ron?” Harry asked coldly.

Ron didn’t answer.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

No answer. Harry had heard from everybody else that had visited Ron, that he never spoke and rarely showed himself.

Harry was about to say, “Nice walls,” when he remembered that it was his sarcasm that had marked the end of their friendship in the first place. He had stood in the middle of a muddy field and said, “Nice hole.”

Not the thing to say. He had regretted it immediately, but his repeated apologies were rejected to the point when Luna asked him just to leave.

Harry hadn’t taken Ron’s troubles seriously at all. He would like to think that he would have matured enough to react differently had the same situation occurred. Unfortunately, a nagging part of him wondered if he would just point and laugh, although he had resisted ever actually doing that. He just felt like doing it.

For some time, Harry was worried that Ron would be carted off to some insane asylum. Luna insisted that she could look after him and Ron’s parents hinted that this kind of thing wasn’t unknown in the family, although neither Molly nor Arthur could quite agree on whose side of the family that was.

“Are you okay, Harry? You look kind of lost.”

Harry realised he had been quietly contemplating for a few minutes.

“I think I could be better, actually, Ron,” he replied with a smile.

“Where’s Luna?”

“She’s gone to visit Ginny.”

“Oh.”

“So what are you building here? It looks very impressive from this side.”

“What? Oh, this. I just felt a little vulnerable, that’s all.”

“And this helps?”

“Not much, but it isn’t finished yet. I’ve been working on something else lately.”

“Luna mentioned she thought you were digging again.”

“No, I stopped again.”

“Really? Well, I’d like to see what it’s like inside.”

“Sorry, Harry. I would show you but there’s really no way in. You might as well go home.”

Harry stood and walked over. He looked up. The outer line of timbers which formed the external wall were about twelve feet high at that point.

“I don’t fancy climbing up there,” observed Harry, although privately he thought he could do it.

“No,” agreed Ron with a hint of relief in his voice.

Harry looked down.

“How deep did you sink them in?” Harry asked. “Quite a way, I’d imagine.”

“Yes, Harry. Really deep. It varies, but some go down at least three feet. It’s because of the subsoil here. Bugger.”

As Ron finished speaking, Harry levitated three adjacent trunks cleanly out of the ground. The bottoms left their muddy post holes with a satisfactory sucking noise as the vacuum was broken.

Harry decided it would be best if he didn’t actually break the timbers, but he was able to place them to one side with minimal damage to the ropes that were holding the timbers in place.

Harry grinned at Ron through the gap in the fence.

“Show off,” retorted Ron. “I suppose you want to come in. Mind your head coming through; I know it’s still the widest part of your body.”

Harry thought he deserved that, and let it pass.

He stepped inside.

The open compound inside was almost entirely covered with wet, slippery mud. In one corner the open scaffold tower rose high up into the air. It looked even more rickety and unstable from the inside.

In the opposite corner was a remarkably clean bathroom suite, complete with WC, bath and basin all sitting on a raised platform with chequer pattern floor tiling. There were no walls.

In the adjacent corner was a small kitchen, again on a small platform.

The final corner had a simple hammock and what looked like an open wardrobe.

“All the mod cons, I see,” observed Harry.

“Luna insisted,” muttered Ron.

“I would have installed a few internal walls, though. And maybe a roof, or is the mud part of the décor?”

“Ha, ha,” said Ron flatly.

“Ron, how on earth did you build all this on your own?”

“Well, Luna cut down and levitated all the larger timbers. She also transfigured some of the more odd shapes I needed.”

“So, she’s been helping?”

“Well, she was. She stopped when she realised I was building that thing.”

“Why are you building that tower, Ron?”

“So I can see,” he answered with frustration in his voice. “It isn’t quite high enough. I can almost see it, but not quite.”

“Hang on, Ron,” said Harry with dawning realisation. “You built that? Without magic?”

Harry was quite used to seeing structures built and held up using magic that looked impossible and defied every physical and common sense law. Here though, was a rickety and dangerously leaning tower that really was rickety and dangerously leaning.

“The trouble is,” continued Ron, ignoring Harry’s concern, “that every time I get up the top to add a bit more on, something falls off the bottom. It gets a bit hairy sometimes, especially when it’s windy.”

“You surprise me, Ron,” said Harry, torn between amusement and dread.

“The problem is that without Luna helping, I’ve had to borrow timbers from the walls.”

“What is it you are hoping to see, Ron?”

“Well, I don’t know what it is. It looks like some kind of building, but there are too many trees in the way.”

“Didn’t you ask Luna?”

“Yes, but all she would say is come out and look. Ridiculous.”

“Sure, Ron. Ridiculous,” repeated Harry with a sigh.

Ron nodded and Harry smiled at him.

“You know, for a while you had me going,” said Harry.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, all this time and I’ve been thinking you were barking mad, and then I get here and you’re saner than I am. Now, this tower proves it. I now know you really are barking.”

“I stopped barking ages ago,” retorted Ron, “when another dog started barking back. It sounded quite big.”

Harry looked around and spotted the excavations in the centre of the open yard.

He gingerly made his way over across the slippery mud, careful to be extra cautious as he neared the edge in case he should slip and fall.

Harry peered over the edge. Instantly his fear of a fall was replaced with derision.

“No way!” he shouted. “How many months have you been digging? Or should I say years?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Harry,” said Ron sheepishly.

“All this time and you’ve only managed to dig a hole this small! I was sure you’d be halfway to China by now.”

“Well, there have been a couple of setbacks. The sides keep falling in and I still don’t know how to use that Muggle spade thing.”

Harry stifled a laugh and asked, “Couldn’t Luna help?”

“No, she said the hole was all mine to dig.”

“Shame. Still, three feet isn’t too bad.”

“No,” agreed Ron, “and there were stones.”

“But you’re pleased with it. That’s the main thing. Nice and comfortable for sitting in.”

“Shut up, Harry.”

*

“You know, this is oddly relaxing,” said Harry, wiping his face and realising his nose was still bleeding.

Ron grunted. He appeared to be checking for broken teeth.

They were both sitting in the bottom of the hole at this point, having slid in whilst fighting each other. The bottom of the hole was even muddier than the rest of the compound.

“I’m sorry, Ron. I didn’t come here to provoke you, I promise.”

“No?”

“No. Well, maybe I did. I’ve been feeling odd the last few days.”

“Odd?”

“Yes. Amazing isn’t it. Out of all of us, I actually believe Luna’s the only one who’s really coping.”

“How so?”

“Well, Neville’s worried silly about Ginny, Hermione’s worried about me and we’re sitting in a muddy hole. Perhaps it’s the herbal tea.”

“You want to watch that stuff, Harry. It can be quite addictive.”

Harry snorted.

“So, are you happy, Ron?”

“Happy?”

“I mean, sitting in this hole and building towers.”

“That’s not all I have, actually.”

Harry raised his mud encrusted eyebrows.

“Well, alright. But Luna keeps me company. She brings me food.”

“But you stay in here the whole time?”

“No. She insists that I have to go with her when she performs her fertility rituals in the woods other there. I don’t mind that. I mean, I can cope with that.”

Harry was about to ask exactly what rituals Luna performed, when he realised, he really didn’t want to know. If Ron hadn’t been covered from head to toe in mud, he could have sworn he was blushing.

“But why a hole, Ron?”

“I wanted to escape, I suppose. I felt I’d lost everything.”

“How can you say that? I didn’t understand then and I still don’t,” admitted Harry.

“Harry, I lost three brothers, remember? All killed.”

“I know that,” Harry said gently. “What about those who lived though? Your family and friends who loved you, then and now.”

“I just felt I’d lost them to you.”

“That is ridiculous,” said Harry, feeling his anger rise up again.

“Is it?” retorted Ron. “When it was all over, it was like everyone was so relieved and happy you had survived and really couldn’t have cared less that I had too.”

“You are so wrong.”

“It was like the whole family adopted you and threw the spare away.”

Ron’s use of the word, “spare,” was a hurtful reminder of Cedric Diggory’s murder.

“No, Ron,” Harry managed to say.

“The final straw,” said Ron, his voice strained, “was when Mum hugged you first. No hesitation.”

“What?”

“Well, you probably don’t remember. You were pretty much out of it.”

“Actually, I do remember parts,” said Harry, straining to remember. “Didn’t she hug Hermione first, anyway?”

“Did she? Great, I was even less important then.”

“No, Ron. Molly had been crying solid for ages. She could hardly tell who she was hugging. I bet she couldn’t even see, let alone think straight.”

Ron was quiet for a moment.

“I suppose that could be right.”

This admission rather surprised Harry.

“You wouldn’t have said that the last time we talked.”

“No, probably not. You need to sit for quite a while in a good hole in the ground to get a perspective of these things.”

“Shame it has to be so muddy,” quipped Harry.

Ron snorted and looked around. It was as if he suddenly realised he was sitting in a muddy hole.

“Um, Harry? Why is Neville worried about Ginny?”

10. Beyond the Edge

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Ten: Beyond the Edge

Harry was quite taken aback, and it took him a moment to gather an answer together.

“So, Neville is Neville again is he?” he said with a grin. “I thought you only called him that back stabbing, low life, good for nothing, b-”

“Yes, well,” interrupted Ron, “despite my reasonable reservations, they appear to be happy together.”

Harry laughed.

It was good to have his old friend back.

“One thing at a time,” said Harry. “Ron, I came here because I want you to be my best man. Will you do it? It really would mean so much to both of us.”

Ron suddenly looked rather uncertain.

“I’m sorry, Ron, but there’s no way Hermione is going to get married in a muddy hole in the ground, even one as nice as this. You are going to have to come to the wedding.”

“Well, I’d like to, but I’m not sure.”

“Okay, but please think about it.”

“Tell me about Ginny,” Ron demanded.

“Yes, Ginny,” said Harry sadly. “She’s totally stressed out, I suppose. I thought she had got over everything, but it looks like she was just hiding things. Neville says it’s just a recent thing, but I’m sure he’s just going along with Ginny’s story.”

Ron tried to get up, but slipped and only succeeded in spraying Harry with more wet mud.

Harry levitated Ron up a sufficient amount for him to scramble out of the hole.

“Thanks,” said Ron as he crawled out of sight.

A moment later he was back.

“Harry, come on!”

“Ron, I assumed you were just going to the loo or something and I’d rather not watch if it’s all the same to you.”

“No, we have to get to Ginny!” he said urgently. “Actually, I usually just use the hole for that. It’s too much trouble to get out, otherwise.”

Harry didn’t think Ron was really serious, but he allowed Ron to pull him out anyway.

“Where’s your wand, Harry?”

“Luna made me leave it behind.”

“Come on, then” Ron urged.

“Ron, look at us both! We can’t go like this,” complained Harry as he followed Ron through the opening in the outer wall.

*

Two muddy figures trudged up the gravel path. This was made a little difficult by the amount of gravel that was sticking to the bottoms of their trousers and shoes.

Eventually, they made it to the cottage garden.

Ron walked up to the cottage in wide-eyed wonder. He may have had another expression, but the mud made it difficult for Harry to tell.

Harry stopped Ron going inside saying, “You’ll just get us both into trouble if we walk mud around the house.” He went over and turned on a garden hose and took it in turns to spray each other clean.

Eventually, after much unnecessary revenge spraying, Harry ventured inside to retrieve his wand. He exited with it and dried them both off.

“Right,” said Ron, “let’s go!”

“Hang on, Ron, let’s step inside for a moment.”

Ron followed Harry into the kitchen. Harry went straight to the drawer his wand had been sealed in, and picked out the long thin box he’d previously recognised.

He turned to see Ron looking around uncomfortably. It was as if being indoors was unnatural for him.

“Here,” said Harry holding out the box.

Ron took the box and opened it, knowing it contained an Ollivander wand.

“I bought it for you after yours was lost,” said Harry. “Luna said she would keep it for you.”

“But, Harry. I can’t use magic any more,” Ron said sadly.

“Well, perhaps it was just temporary. Go on, give it a swish.”

In truth, Harry was not at all hopeful that Ron would ever be able to perform magic again.

Ron swished the wand.

Nothing happened.

“No,” said Harry gently, and suddenly he remembered why he loved to teach so much. It was the feeling of helping someone do something they felt was just beyond them.

“You have to believe. Think back to when you held your new wand for the first time in Ollivander’s shop. It was your wand. It chose you.”

Harry watched as a smile grew on Ron’s face as he remembered. His own wand.

“Go on, give it a swish and believe it will work.”

A modest shower of red sparks filled the kitchen for a moment.

“Cool,” breathed Ron.

He pointed his wand at the flower arrangement on the window cill.

“Accio!” he shouted. One twig moved slightly, but that was all.

“It will take time,” said Harry gently. “You’ll have to learn almost everything again, but the magic is still within you.”

“Thanks Harry,” said Ron. “How did you know this wand would suit me though?”

“I didn’t take any chances,” he admitted. “We tracked down a wand with a unicorn hair from the very same unicorn as your original wand. Mr Ollivander made a new wand using that hair and wood from the same tree as your old wand. To all intents and purposes, you have your old wand back again.”

Ron just stared at him.

“You did all that, knowing I might never be able to do magic again?”

“Well, yes,” Harry admitted, going over and picking out another twig. “I do hope Luna doesn’t mind my ruining her kitchen decorations.”

“I thought they were fire starters, Harry.”

Harry snorted but then realised Ron was serious.

“Portus!” he whispered.

Harry offered out the twig and said, “Ready?”

Ron looked seriously at him and then said, “No, Harry. I want to talk to you for a moment before we see the others.”

Harry shrugged and put the Portkey down.

They sat down at the kitchen table, and Harry waited for Ron to speak.

“When I first saw you today, I thought you looked strange. Not quite yourself, anyway. Why is that?”

Harry sighed and told Ron all about his obsession with the Forbidden Forest, how he hadn’t been sleeping and his concerns about taking out his frustrations on his students.

Ron frowned.

“Harry, why are you even staying at Hogwarts?”

“Well, it’s easier than commuting back to London every day. Of course, I’d have stayed if I knew Ginny was going to be so upset.”

“Forget Ginny. I mean, we’ll sort her out later. Why are you travelling to Hogwarts?”

“Sorry, I thought you knew,” said Harry. “I got seconded from the Auror Division to Hogwarts. I’m acting Head of House and I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“You were an Auror?”

“Still am. Didn’t Luna tell you anything?”

“I don’t always listen,” Ron admitted. “Anything else I should know?”

*

Harry and Ron slammed into the tiled lobby floor of Ginny and Neville’s London home. Harry stayed on his feet but Ron wobbled and grabbed hold of Harry to prevent himself from falling.

“I’d forgotten how that felt,” he muttered to himself.

Harry had expected the house to be sombre and quiet while Ginny’s friends sympathetically watched over her.

He wasn’t quite prepared for the wild shrieks of laughter and giggling that was coming from the living room.

Harry was about to push the agar door open to see what the noise was about, although he already had a fair idea, when the front door opened and a very harassed looking Neville came inside.

He started seeing Harry and Ron and immediately indicated for them to keep quiet and the three of them crept along to the kitchen.

Neville placed the carrier bags he’d come in with on the table and closed the door so they could speak without alerting the others, although they were making so much noise Harry felt they probably wouldn’t have heard anyway.

“I love these girls’ nights in, I really do,” said Neville sarcastically, unpacking various bottles of wine.

“How long have they been drinking?” asked Harry with a smile.

“From about five minutes after Luna arrived. This is the second time they sent me out for more booze. That shopkeeper in the local off-licence thinks I’m an alcoholic, I’m sure.”

Neville went over to the fridge and took out three cans of lager.

He handed one each to Harry and Ron and they opened them in unison.

“Welcome back, Ron,” said Neville with a smile.

At that moment Ginny tottered into the room asking, “Neville, where’s our drink?” as she steadied herself against the door frame.

She froze as soon as she saw the three of them.

“RON!” she yelled and threw herself forward, hugging him. Her shout appeared to have been noticed by Hermione and Luna as they quickly appeared at the kitchen door.

“What about your hole?” asked Ginny with genuine concern.

“I’ve grown tired of it.”

“I fell in,” said Harry proudly. Neville snorted.

“Yeah, it’s just not the same now.”

“You will stay, won’t you?” asked Ginny hopefully. “Neville can dig you a hole in the garden, if you’d like?”

“No, I’ll make do with a bed.”

“I’m so glad you came,” Ginny said tearfully, hugging him tighter.

“Well, Harry said my little sister was upset about something, so I had to come. Of course, had he said she’s just getting drunk again, I’d have thought better of it.”

“I’m not drunk,” she said indignantly, pushing herself away and swaying slightly, “but I may be shortly, now we have something to celebrate. Come on through into the living room, Ron. You look like you’re about to collapse. You might as well collapse onto a comfy chair!”

“I’m the one about to collapse, am I?” Ron asked with a smile as Ginny dragged him out of the room, looking afraid to let go in case he decided to go off and do something stupid again. Luna followed and Neville picked up the bottles and followed.

“Talk to me, Ron,” Ginny was saying. “It’s been ages since you talked to us.”

Harry put his still full drink can on the table and Hermione went over to him and put her arms around him.

“You look tired,” she said eventually.

“I’m fine,” he said gently. “I’m going back to Hogwarts now.”

“Okay, I’ll come with you.”

“No, Hermione. You’ve had too much to drink. It wouldn’t be safe. Stay here tonight and for as long as Ginny needs you.”

“Then you stay here as well. You can travel back in the morning. Please, Harry?”

“No, Hermione.”

“Why not?” she asked with hurt in her voice.

“I can’t explain. It’s this feeling I’ve had lately. It’s like, well, like the day before it all happened.”

“You’re just empathising with Ginny, that’s all.”

“Maybe part of me is,” Harry admitted, “but really think it’s something more. Say goodnight to the others for me?”

Hermione didn’t let go immediately, and Harry was forced to gently pry her arms away from him.

Tears fell down her face as he leaned in to kiss her, whispering, “I love you, Hermione. I have to do this,” before Disapparating.

*

Harry Apparated as close as he could to the school gates and hurried up to the castle.

He was about to enter the staff living quarters when he felt the hairs on the back of his head prickle. That same uneasy feeling he had remained the same, but this time he felt there was something amiss here in the castle.

Harry walked up to the second floor and walked along the West corridor.

Everything was quiet and normal.

He went up a floor.

He was walking slowly along when two students turned a bend in the corridor. It was Carmen and Stephen.

“Evening, Sir,” he said.

“Evening, Stephen,” replied Harry. He was about to say something to Carmen when suddenly Harry gave a start.

Harry drew out his wand at once and stepped forward.

“Did you hear that?” he asked seriously.

“No, nothing,” said Carmen quietly, now standing next to Harry with her wand in hand.

Harry glanced back at Stephen who was just standing there looking suddenly nervous.

“Where’s your wand?”

“In my dormitory, Sir,” he replied sheepishly.

Harry frowned at him.

“Carmen, how many people are still out tonight?”

“Only those in the library.”

“Sure? No study groups?”

“No, honestly,” replied Carmen. From the look on her face Harry believed she was telling the truth.

“Please go to the library and tell everyone to go back to their dormitories at once. No exceptions. Collect any students you pass on the way. No student is to be left alone. If there are any students from other Houses who would be otherwise unaccompanied, take them to Gryffindor tower. Clear?”

“Yes.”

“Go now, and if you see a ghost tell them to come and find me.”

Carmen ran off with Stephen in tow.

Harry proceeded along the dark corridor, pausing to light a lantern that had gone out. He had the strangest feeling of unease here.

*

Harry had just finished checking the last classroom when Professor McGonagall joined him.

“Maybe I imagined it,” he admitted with a sigh.

“Or perhaps you didn’t. Anyway, it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’ll ask the ghosts to increase their patrols through here during the nights.”

“Thanks.”

“You do look tired, though, Harry.”

“I feel tired,” Harry admitted with a smile.

They walked back along the corridor, and Harry realised it no longer had the feeling of unease he’d had here was gone.

“Has anything ever got into the castle and remained undetected for a while?”

“Yes, it has happened. I believe it took years before Peeves was finally brought out into the open.”

Harry thought seriously.

“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t Peeves. He loves chaos. This felt more malevolent.”

“Where’s Hermione?”

“She’s staying at Ginny’s. They are celebrating Ron’s return.”

“How is he?”

“Remarkably lucid, actually. I’m seriously considering digging myself a therapeutic hole as well.”

“You should have stayed.”

“I couldn’t. Do you think I’m cracking up?”

“I think, you should have stayed,” she repeated gently before leaving him.

*

Harry changed and showered before retiring to bed. He tried to sleep but after a few hours he gave up and got up again.

He was folding his clothes and marvelling about the amount of mud they still carried, when he glanced out of the window.

The night was dark and clear. He couldn’t see anything other than the night sky from his window, but somehow he didn’t need to see the forest to become drawn to it.

He dropped the soiled clothes in a heap and dressed in his day clothes.

*

Harry found himself standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He waited for a while and listened.

There was nothing unusual tonight. Only he was out of place.

Harry stepped forward and entered the forest. He didn’t look at the time, but had he done so it would have struck him that it was the same time to the minute that he had entered this forest to face Voldemort.

*

Professor McGonagall turned from the window in her office wearing a grave expression.

“He’s gone in, then?” asked Moody.

The Headmistress nodded uncertainly.

“Better notify the others then,” he growled.

11. Battling the Past

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Note: Sorry, but the POV switches around a little here, mainly to stop you working out what is really going on too quickly!

Chapter Eleven: Battling the Past

Harry had got only a few feet into the trees when his scar seared with pain. He stopped and rubbed his forehead.

It had been years since his scar had hurt.

He turned and looked back at the campfires and flaming torches of the hundreds who had gathered to defend Hogwarts in its time of need.

The battle would begin at dawn. They were ready should Voldemort order his hoards to attack tonight, but there was actually little point.

Voldemort had other business tonight and, after all, if he won there wouldn’t be any need for a fight.

Harry turned to face the forest.

For a moment, just a moment, Harry knew this couldn’t be real. He couldn’t really be facing this all again? Could he?

Harry marched forward, exactly as he had done that night.

From that moment he was lost in the past, the present a mere possibility.

*

Hermione felt herself being shaken roughly awake. She groaned and turned over.

“Don’t want to wake up,” she complained thickly, her eyes still closed.

The shaking continued, more urgently this time.

Hermione opened her eyes with difficulty.

“Dobby?”

“Miss Hermione must please wake up!”

Hermione realised she was lying awkwardly against one of the living room chairs.

“Drink this now,” Dobby ordered and brought a beaker to her lips.

Hermione drank two sips and immediately tried to push the disgusting concoction away. Dobby was most insistent though and forced her to drink some more.

Gradually the haze across Hermione’s mind lifted.

She looked around the room to see that everyone was being revived by several house elves.

“What’s going on Dobby?”

“Professor McGonagall could not get in touch with any of you. She contacted Dobby and we came at once. Dobby apologises for making you drink this potion, but you had all been drinking rather a lot.”

“But why did Professor McGonagall want to contact us, Dobby?”

“Harry Potter has gone into the Forbidden Forest. Professor McGonagall says she watched him standing at the forest edge as usual tonight, but this time he went in.”

“Did she say what she thought was happening?”

“Professor McGonagall just said for you to come at once. She sent this Portkey.”

“Okay, I’m going,” said Hermione, getting up and feeling rather grateful that Dobby’s sobering up potion worked so well.

“Just a minute, Hermione. You’re not going without us,” said Ron.

“But Ron, you can barely do magic,” Hermione reasoned.

“So? I’m coming too,” he said adamantly.

Luna smiled warmly at him and walked over to join them.

“I’m going too,” said Neville. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said gently to Ginny.

“You’re not going without me,” said Ginny shakily.

“Ginny, after all that’s happened,” said Neville.

“We must go,” said Ginny clasping hold of Neville’s hand, “after everything Harry has done for us.”

Hermione smiled tearfully as she held the Portkey up for them all to hold.

*

The five of them landed in Professor McGonagall’s office, facing the wrong way.

“Welcome,” said a familiar voice.

They turned.

Professor McGonagall and Alastor Moody were standing either side of an easel, upon which was propped a large portrait of Albus Dumbledore who was smiling at them.

“I’m so glad you all decided to come,” he said warmly.

Hermione didn’t stand on ceremony.

“Dobby said Harry has gone into the forest.”

“He did, a few hours ago.”

“Hours?” gasped Ginny.

“You’ve been expecting something like this?”

“Yes,” said Moody. “When we arranged Potter’s original Auror testing, he had a few problems. In truth, the test was specifically designed to expose something that he had difficulty accepting.”

“But Harry passed his Auror test,” protested Ginny.

“He passed a different test the second time, not ours.”

“Okay, what couldn’t he accept?”

“The most difficult thing for anyone to accept,” said Dumbledore. “The truth about what really happened, and what he could and couldn’t do.”

“So, he’s gone in there to face up to the truth?”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Ron rudely out of frustration.

“Tonight, for Harry, Voldemort will win.”

“What?”

“The six of you are the only ones who survived that night,” explained Moody. “I know that only Harry was there when he beat Voldemort, but you five are important witnesses to the events immediately before and after. Everyone else who fought with and against you in the forest that night is dead.”

“Harry is reliving that night,” added Dumbledore. “For him, it may appear to be quite real.”

“Okay, so we should be able to retrace our steps and find him that way?”

“Perhaps, though I doubt it. If you wish to go, please remember why you are there. You may remember some terrible things that, like Harry, your mind wished to forget.”

They nodded.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

“There may be an additional complication. Harry was convinced he heard something here in the castle. I believe he was not imagining things. There may very well be something unidentified stalking him or all of you in there.”

“Great,” said Ron. “Trust Harry to go sleepwalking in a nightmare of the worst night of our lives, when there are real monsters wandering about.”

*

“Alright,” said Hermione, “I think this is the spot where we entered the forest.”

“It is,” agreed Neville. “I remember that odd shaped tree trunk over there.”

“Good. Now remember, Voldemort died or whatever at around five o’clock in the morning. We should assume that Harry will relive the moment at the same time.”

“Pity we don’t know where they fought,” observed Ron. “Okay, how shall we split up?”

“No,” said Hermione at once. “We all stick together, no matter what.”

“But it would be quicker,” began Ron.

“No, Ron,” she interrupted him. “You can’t do anything but throw sparks and there’s no way I’m risking Ginny and Neville being left alone like last time. We stick together!”

“Okay, okay,” said Ron, admitting defeat. “I wonder if I can manage a Lumos spell?”

They lit their wands and ran into the forest, heading for the position of the first skirmish.

*

“Oh, Albus,” Professor McGonagall said dabbing her eyes. “Shouldn’t we have warned them?”

“No, Minerva,” he replied gently. “This is as much for them, as it is for Harry.”

The fire flared bright green and a figure stepped out of the fireplace.

Moody limped over to join the four of them.

“I’m afraid there’s been a development,” said David Royce, handing Professor McGonagall a piece of parchment.

She blanched upon reading it.

Professor McGonagall went over to her desk and touched a tiny silver instrument, which gave a light ring.

She spoke clearly and firmly, her voice magically amplified and repeated in every room in the castle.

“All students are instructed to return to their dormitories at once. All staff and ghosts will report to the staff room for a briefing in ten minutes. Peeves, report to my office, now!”

*

Hermione was the first to reach the small clearing. There was no doubt that Harry had been here. Foliage was burnt from recent spell work and a couple of larger branches were broken.

“Okay, when we arrived here before we saw the same thing. There had been some kind of running battle but we didn’t find any dead or wounded,” said Hermione, struggling to get her breath back.

“That’s right,” agreed Ron. “We went off in that direction, didn’t we?” he said pointing.

“No, Ron,” said Neville. “It was that way.”

“Neville’s right,” said Hermione setting off again.

*

Hermione skidded to a halt and caught her breath.

“Things got a bit complicated here, didn’t they?” said Luna.

“This is where the main group split up, but the five of us stayed together,” said Ron. “There was fighting going on all around at that point.”

“We go the way we went before,” said Hermione, moving forward but more slowly now.

It was really getting quite eerie. They could almost hear the shouts and cries that filled the air that night.

Ginny screamed.

The others turned at once and hurried back to her. Something was half hidden in the dark undergrowth.

Ron pulled the ferns back.

“Oh my,” breathed Hermione. “How can this be?”

“I’d forgotten,” said Luna. “They only found him the day after. We must have run straight past him.”

The body of Dean Thomas lay at their feet.

“How can we be seeing this now, though?”

Ginny was staring down at Dean, a horrified look etched into her features. She was trying to pull Neville away.

“No,” he said gently. “We’re going on together. I’ve no idea how this is happening, but this has to be an illusion. Perhaps we’re seeing what Harry saw, or something.”

“Neville’s right,” said Ron. “It must be an illusion.”

He knelt down to touch Dean. He hesitated but put his hand down on his shoulder, avoiding his chest wounds.

He was solid.

Ginny gave a muffled cry.

“Okay,” said Hermione, clearly trying to maintain control of herself. “We should assume that there are enemies out here that are also solid, perhaps even alive. We should also assume they can perform magic.”

Ginny looked up into Neville’s eyes.

“It won’t be like last time,” he promised. “We’re going to stay together.”

Hermione suddenly realised. Ginny had been haunted by whatever had happened to her here, and here they were reliving that very night.

What if it happened all over again?

Luna went over and put an arm around Ginny, whispering something in her ear.

Ginny nodded and wiped her face.

“Let’s go on,” she said shakily, although not letting go of Neville’s hand.

*

“What time is it?” asked Ron in an urgent whisper.

“Four.”

“Then why does it look like it’s getting lighter?”

“What?”

“It must be part of the illusion,” said Hermione. “It was Summer when it happened, wasn’t it? We’re seeing the dawn like we would have done then.”

“Shh,” said Luna, pointing out ahead.

Far into the distance, dark robed figures were running in a group.

They ran to catch them up, going deeper into the forest.

They had closed the gap to around one hundred yards when there were suddenly shouts accompanied by loud cracks and bangs.

By the time they got there, at least half the group were dead or close to death. Most of them were clearly Death Eaters.

“Did Harry do this?” asked Ron incredulously. “I had no idea. He really went into the thick of things, didn’t he?”

Hermione was frowning slightly.

“They are drawing him in,” she said quietly. “Voldemort is sacrificing his people to bring Harry closer, away from us and the others.”

She looked at her watch and smiled.

“What is it?” asked Ron.

“Well, it’s now twenty minutes past four. I was knocked out just after four in the fighting. This means we aren’t simply reliving that night. Tonight, whatever this is, it is different.”

“So Dumbledore might have been right?”

“Not if I can help it,” said Hermione grimly, walking over to a writhing Death Eater who was clearly close to death.

“Avada Kedavra,” she shouted.

A green flash emitted from the end of her wand and the Death Eater instantly fell dead.

The other four looked on, utterly shocked.

“Hermione,” said Neville at last. “We’re sharing some kind of illusion, right? So what if you’re not really firing spells at nothing real. What if there really was someone there, but not who we think we are seeing?”

For a moment, doubt crossed Hermione’s face.

Then the doubt went.

“Dumbledore told us to remember that we are here for Harry. I think that so long as we fight to protect him, we’ll be all right. That’s what I’m going to try and do, anyway.”

*

They ducked into the undergrowth as three small groups of Death Eaters passed them in a hurry.

A couple of them were chuckling as they went.

“That last group,” whispered Neville. “They were the ones that got us. I’m sure of it.”

“Should we double back and get them?” suggested Ron.

“No,” whispered Hermione. “We have to get to Harry. Whatever they did, it won’t happen to us again.”

A high cold humourless laugh erupted through the trees.

It sent shivers down their spines. It was him.

Hermione moved first, determined to get to Harry.

*

Harry ran straight into the centre of the remaining group of Death Eaters causing them to flee in blind panic.

He continued firing non-lethal hexes at their retreating backs to hurry them on their way.

Harry knelt. He knew before he took their victim’s pulse that he was too late. The body’s skin felt cool to the touch.

At the time Harry was pleased to allow the main group to leave the area, leaving a dozen of so for him to easily deal with. Now, he very much regretted letting them go.

There was a muffled scream somewhere off into the distance.

Harry frowned. Who else was in the forest? He had come alone precisely to avoid casualties. If he failed there would be plenty of time for heroics later defending the castle.

For a moment, Harry was undecided.

Should he proceed deeper into the forest to look for Voldemort or should he go and help?

Dumbledore had warned him about this. Voldemort would have no qualms about placing his friends at risk, trying to provoke Harry into wasting time and effort on heroics to save others.

He took about six steps forward, going deeper into the forest, and then stopped.

Suddenly an image came into his mind. It was the image that had haunted him for years.

For the briefest instant, Harry saw clarity. The last time, on the actual night, he had gone on. He had accepted that he would be responsible for sacrificing his friends’ lives. Voldemort had to be defeated. Nothing else mattered.

Except, of course, it did matter.

Harry set off again, determined to right a wrong he had allowed to happen.

*

Bodies were scattered throughout the forest floor. Several were clearly Death Eaters and Voldemort supporters, but the overwhelming majority were Hogwarts students.

As Harry ran through the forest, a mixture of emotions churned around in him. He was angry with them. Why hadn’t they stayed in the castle? Why had the older ones allowed such young children to fight? He also felt pride in their bravery. He hoped they knew what they were getting themselves in for.

He passed a small group of Death Eaters, huddled together and obviously killed by arrows. Were the Centaurs fighting after all?

A distracted Harry tripped and went flying, his wand falling from his hand as he impacted heavily on the ground.

This rather surprised the group of Death Eaters he’d landed next to.

“Crucio!” shouted one of the others, but it was not directed towards Harry.

Harry leapt to his feet and charged, grabbed one of their wands in the scuffle. Its owner fell first to a stupefy spell, quickly followed by two more.

Three were now left as well as, Harry realised for the first time, their struggling victim.

Neville shrugged off his assailants who were clearly more concerned about Harry’s sudden appearance.

Neville punched one of them while Harry stunned the one standing next closest to him. The third ran off into the woods and quickly disappeared.

Harry hurried over to stun the punched Death Eater, but he was out cold.

Neville looked angry and fearful as he reached into one of their robes to retrieve his wands.

“Accio wand!” said Harry. His wand flew towards him out of the bushes and he caught it easily. He snapped the wand he’d borrowed in two.

“That was Bellatrix Lestrange,” gasped Neville. “Ginny’s in trouble. Rodolfus Lestrange and a few of the others have her.”

“Lead the way,” ordered Harry, with a quick glance at his watch.

*

The loud cheers and laughing told them they were running in the right direction. The trees were also thinning unfortunately, but there was still plenty of green low lying undergrowth.

Suddenly they saw a large group of black robes. They stood out clearly against the forest background.

Ginny’s scream cut through the air. It sounded like her throat was raw from screaming. Her screams were accompanied by more cheering and laughing.

Neville put on a burst of speed. They were only yards away now.

Harry jumped forward and rugby tackled Neville, earning himself a kick in the face. Neville struggled to get up, but they were both well concealed within the dense undergrowth.

Neville only stopped struggling when they heard what Harry had seen just in time.

“Potter!” screamed Bellatrix Lestrange. “Potter is coming for you!”

“You get her,” whispered Harry. “I’ll get them.”

Neville nodded and Harry released him.

They crawled out of the undergrowth in separate directions.

As Harry got closer, he could hear their conversation. They weren’t troubling to keep their voices down.

“Did that sadistic old hag say Potter was coming after us?”

“Hey, that’s my wife you’re talking about,” said Lestrange, sounding quite un-offended.

“Pay attention to what you’re doing, Lestrange, or move aside for one of us.”

“But the Dark Lord said Potter would be drawn towards him, didn’t he?”

“Yes, Malfoy took the bait to him a while ago.”

Ginny had stopped screaming now. Somehow, that seemed worse.

Harry stood and walked up to the circle, knowing he mustn’t look.

Suddenly, they spotted him and were stunned into silence. A ripping sound was the only noise.

If he looked, he would just kill them all.

They moved apart slightly, unsure of what was about to happen. Lestrange stood.

Harry looked.

*

Harry looked down at his shaking hands. He was covered in blood.

He looked up to see Neville cradling Ginny, who was wrapped in his robes.

Harry walked over and Neville looked up at him, tears in his eyes but smiling.

“I’m going on,” said Harry. “Stay with her.”

Harry turned and ran off, once again going deeper into the forest, passing Bellatrix Lestrange’s horribly distorted body on his way.

*

Hermione lead the way as they crept to the edge of the wide clearing, determined to stay hidden until they were in a position to help.

Hermione was now shaking with fear.

Harry was standing facing Voldemort in the middle of the clearing. A few Death Eaters remained to witness the final duel.

“Congratulations,” said Voldemort. “I promised to make the Death Eater who killed you, rich beyond their dreams. I thought you would appreciate the extra effort they put in.”

“Really?” said Harry, sounding quite unconcerned. “I wonder why so many just turned and ran away then?”

“They will pay.”

Hermione examined Harry closely. He looked unhurt so far, although covered in blood. Then she noticed his wand. It wasn’t his. In fact, it looked almost like hers. She looked down for confirmation and was shocked to see she was holding Harry’s wand. Then she remembered. They had swapped wands, so the brother wands didn’t have to fight.

“Kill him, Master!” shouted a Death Eater from the opposite side.

“Patience, Malfoy,” said Voldemort, not moving his eyes from his opponent. “Harry deserves to enjoy his final moments. I want him to really appreciate the trouble I’ve gone to, to make his death quite agony.”

Harry looked over to Malfoy.

“Pardon me,” he said politely, “would you permit me one indulgence?”

“Of course,” said Voldemort with a cruel smile.

Harry flicked his wand sideways and a red flaming rope erupted from its tip.

Malfoy and the two Death Eaters standing next to him were decapitated at the same time as the rope flew through their three necks.

“Bravo!” cried Voldemort with delight as the other Death Eaters scattered in shear panic. “Nicely done, Harry!”

Harry turned his attention back to Voldemort.

“I take it you found young Malfoy’s body, then?”

Harry nodded.

“Yes, I would have preferred to torture Lucius before killing him, but I assure you he would have died in any event. I didn’t order him to kill his son. I always saw young Draco as a great potential, actually.”

“Even though he chose to fight against you, in the end?”

“Indeed, Harry. Lord Voldemort values such strength of character.”

“Well, shall we get started?”

“But you haven’t had your surprise yet, Harry.”

There was a rustling and from the far side of the clearing, behind Voldemort, came another group of Death Eaters.

Hermione watched on as they dropped the limp body they were carrying onto the ground before hastily retreating back into the forest undergrowth.

It was Hermione.

12. The Keeper of the Keys

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Twelve: The Keeper of the Keys

Hermione gasped quietly as she saw herself being dropped into the clearing. She had absolutely no idea she had been anywhere near Harry at the end.

Ron touched her lightly on her shoulder and mouthed, “What do we do?”

“Nothing,” she mouthed clearly back. “We wait.”

The Hermione on the ground was beginning to stir.

Harry stepped to one side and quickly shouted, “Stupefy!”

Voldemort didn’t react at all, although the red stunner only missed him by inches. It hit where Harry aimed for, however, and Hermione fell limp again.

Voldemort smiled.

“I know, Harry,” he said in mock sympathy. “She’ll wish you had killed her, later,” he added menacingly.

Hermione looked down at her watch. It was almost five o’clock.

By the time she looked up again, they were duelling.

Hermione had seen some of Harry’s defence training sessions with Dumbledore and a couple of is Auror challenges, but those were nothing compared to this. She had never seen spell work as fast nor as powerful as this.

After their initial exchange of stunners and reductor curses, there was a lull.

“Excellent, Harry. Perhaps that old fool taught you something, after all.”

Hermione looked around behind her and with a shock of horror realised that the others had all gone.

“Argh!” shouted Harry.

Hermione looked back at once. Harry had been hit. He was holding his left arm to his side now.

“That hurt, didn’t it, Harry?” said Voldemort. “Fast, but not quite fast enough for Lord Voldemort.”

Harry fired, hitting Voldemort in his upper right thigh.

Voldemort shrieked with pain.

“Look on the bright side,” said Harry with a small grin. “That would have hurt so much more if you had any genitalia.”

Voldemort’s face distorted with a mixture of pain and fury.

The clearing suddenly filled with the sound of Phoenix song.

Hermione looked on eagerly.

This was it.

Harry raised his wand, a look of grim determination fixed on his face.

Hermione could see the empowering effect the bird song was having upon Harry. He would be the victor in this last exchange. There was no question now. Both of them knew it.

“Did you seriously hope to prevent any serious casualties this evening, Harry?”

“What?” asked Harry, obviously distracted.

“Kill him, Harry!” thought Hermione. “Do it now!”

“A group of students followed you into the forest this evening, Harry. They were hoping to help you. There were rather fewer than I anticipated, actually, but the important thing was that your closest friends,” he gave a cold chuckle, “came in here to die for you. I can assure you, they won’t be disappointed.”

“No we didn’t.”

To Hermione’s utter shock, Luna stepped out into the clearing.

Voldemort pointed his wand at her. Luna walked forward impassively.

“Beg me not to kill her, Harry!”

“No,” he replied calmly. “She’s not afraid of you, Tom. You always know when people are lying to you, don’t you? Go ahead and ask her.”

“Do you fear Lord Voldemort, child?”

“No,” replied Luna unhesitatingly.

“Aren’t you afraid of death?”

“No,” she replied. “I’ll be with my family again.”

Luna’s words clearly disturbed Voldemort. He appeared to falter.

“See, she is telling the truth. We’re not afraid of you.”

“I have filled this forest with your dead!” he said angrily.

“Yes, but how many were afraid of you?” asked Harry. “Even if they were afraid of dying, they came in anyway.”

“Avada Kedavra,” shouted Voldemort.

A green flash erupted from the end of his wand, heading straight for Luna.

Harry immediately stepped into its path and fell in a heap.

Hermione screamed, “HARRY!” and ran out into the clearing.

Voldemort was momentarily stunned. He looked back behind him. The girl was still there. Was this a twin?

Hermione collapsed next to Harry. There was no mistake.

He was quite dead.

She pulled her wand from his fingers and glanced back before standing. Luna was nowhere to be seen.

“You are not serious, girl?” said Voldemort incredulously.

“I’m not afraid of you!”

“Yes, you are,” he replied with a cruel smile. “Why do you think poor, brave Harry stunned you? Your fear was a liability to him and his cause, that’s why.”

Hermione wiped her tears away with he sleeve and advanced.

Voldemort took a short step forward. She stepped back at once and stumbled over Harry’s body, falling backwards to the ground.

Voldemort laughed and said, “Why bother throwing your life away like this? I’ve won. The prize is mine. The castle is mine.”

“Prize?” she asked, clearly confused. “The Prophecy only said one of you would kill the other. Not that the victor couldn’t be killed.”

“Girl, they said you had brains! We were fighting for far more than the outcome of a mere Prophecy.”

Hermione frowned.

“You may not be aware, but I personally questioned that oaf Half Giant. He resisted the strongest torture, but no one resists Lord Voldemort for long. He eventually told me that he had transferred the guardianship of Hogwarts to Potter, believing he would be victorious. He died defiantly; he utterly believed in Potter’s ultimate victory. A foolish belief.”

“The Keeper of the Keys,” whispered Hermione. “I forgot,” she added honestly.

“Well done. Glad you got there in the end. Anyway, when I killed dear Harry here, I became Keeper of the Keys. Hogwarts and the powers it guards are mine.”

Voldemort gave a short bow.

“You may congratulate me before I kill you.”

“No thanks,” said Hermione shakily, grabbing hold of one of Harry’s still warm hands. “I’d rather you just got it over with.”

“As you wish,” he said raising his wand. Hermione closed her eyes and thought of Harry for one last time.

“Avada Kedavra,” he shouted.

Hermione saw a bright green flash through her eyelids.

She opened her eyes to a confounded looking Voldemort.

“Harry wasn’t the Keeper of the Keys. Not all of the Hogwarts grounds are part of the original Celtic site, but this area is. This is the very clearing the Dumbledore invested Hagrid with the Keys. You could never have killed Harry here, had Harry still been Keeper of the Keys.”

“You!”

“Me,” she replied shakily. “It is true that Keeper surrenders the Keys upon death if they haven’t already, but not to the killer. The transfer can only be made only to a loved individual. Since I was invested with the Keys here in this very clearing, it seems the ancient magic here has given me some protection, although I had no idea it would work so well. If I had, I would never have allowed Harry to give up his protection.”

Hermione looked straight into Voldemort’s suddenly fearful eyes and said, “Avada Kedavra,” her voice dripping with hatred.

She didn’t look as his body fell, being blinded by tears now anyway, but instead she groped around to find Harry’s hand again.

She couldn’t find it.

Despair overcame her suddenly, and she fainted.

*

Harry walked into the clearing and was rather surprised to find his five friends there.

“What are you all doing here?”

Harry realised that Hermione was lying unconscious and went over to her.

“Let her wake up slowly, Harry,” warned Luna. She was cradling Ron in her arms. He appeared to have been unconscious as well, and was just stirring.

Neville and Ginny were both awake, sitting with their arms around each other.

Harry took hold of Hermione’s hand. She was warm and her pulse was strong.

“She’ll be fine,” said Luna softly, not looking up.

“What happened?” asked Harry.

“You relived that night again, didn’t you, Harry?” asked Neville.

“Well, kind of,” Harry agreed.

“We experienced much the same thing,” added Luna. “We each faced our demons. Did what we each regretted not doing that night.”

Hermione stirred, and Harry looked down to see her looking up at him in disbelief.

He smiled and lent down to kiss her.

*

It took some time for Hermione to recover her senses and truly believe they were all alright. While she recovered, they each told of their experiences and explained how they were different from the actual night.

On the actual night, Ron had been hit with a spell that drained him of his magic. Wandless and defenceless, he had been cornered and forced to find cover in the hole formed by an uprooted tree. There he could do nothing but watch as so many students were killed.

Tonight, Ron had come out of that hole and stepped in front of a killing curse intended for Luna.

Luna, in turn, had stepped into the clearing and defied Voldemort to his face.

Tonight Neville had killed not only Bellatrix again, but also several of Voldemort’s closest Death Eaters. With Neville’s help, Ginny had avenged herself on her captors and a good few more besides.

Harry told of how he had originally gone straight for Voldemort and how he had always regretted not helping Ginny and Neville.

Ginny’s ordeal and injuries at the hands of the Death Eaters had been truly terrible that night. Harry had actually found Ginny barely alive in Neville’s arms, on his way back out of the forest. Neville had crawled to her with a broken leg and had managed to kill the few remaining Death Eaters. The remainder had gone off to gloat in Voldemort’s expected victory, but had actually died at Harry’s hands anyway.

“Harry, how much of what I saw actually happened?” asked Hermione. “I saw you kill Lucius Malfoy and you stunned me. The confusing thing was that I saw Luna there as well as myself.”

“Well,” admitted Harry. “I did kill Malfoy and I’m afraid I did stun you. Luna wasn’t there though.”

“Actually, Harry,” said Luna. “I was there. I was just too afraid to come out into the open.”

“But why did you stun me, Harry? Voldemort said it was because I was afraid.”

“Yes, I suppose that was why I did it,” he admitted.

“But the thing that upset me the most,” said Hermione, her voice cracking, “was that you made me Keeper of the Keys when you knew that Voldemort couldn’t have killed you otherwise.”

“Hey,” he said gently, stroking her cheek. “If I hadn’t, he could have killed you. I knew he would bait me using you.”

Harry turned and groaned, rubbing his ribs.

“For an illusion, though, it feels awfully real.”

Hermione pulled up his shirt.

“Can’t you even wait until we get back?” Harry joked.

Hermione gasped seeing his bare skin.

“What?”

*

The six of them left the forest and headed for the castle, still pondering Harry’s injuries.

“But, Harry, none of us is hurt.”

“Well, maybe one of your stray spells hit me by accident. Things were a little intense at times.”

“Perhaps,” said Hermione, although she sounded rather doubtful.

They entered the entrance lobby and were greeted by a frantic looking Sir Nicholas.

“Thank heavens you are unhurt,” he said with relief. “I am to escort you all up to the Headmistress’ office.”

They followed the ghost at a walking pace. Harry couldn’t help notice him looking around every corner nervously.

“Um, Nick?” Harry asked cautiously. “Is anything the matter?”

“No, Harry. Not at all!”

“Nick,” pleaded Harry gently.

“I’m not supposed to alarm you so soon after your ordeal this evening.”

At these words they all reached for their wands.

*

Harry was the last to step out of the green flames and into the Gryffindor common room. They wouldn’t normally have used Floor Powder to come there from the Headmistress’ office, but it seemed safer not to risk the corridors.

Fortunately, many Gryffindors were still up, waiting for news.

Harry looked around.

“Carmen?”

“Yes, Harry. Sorry, I mean, Sir!”

“I need a couple of favours. Where is Hydrus?”

“I’m here,” he said, poking his head out Carmen’s sleeve and tasting the air.

“Would you be prepared to accompany me outside for a few hours? It could be dangerous,” he warned.

“Of course we will!” said Carmen with a smile.

“I’m only asking Hydrus, not you.”

Carmen frowned.

“Hydrus?” he prompted.

“Well, I suppose so. Not that I owe you after you made me swim for a week in that ointment.”

“Thanks, Hydrus,” said Harry, gently picking up the tiny snake. “Carmen, come over here a moment.”

Carmen followed, her curiosity overwhelming her pout.

“You remember Ron, don’t you?”

“Hi, Ron!”

“Ron, this is your body guard and personal tutor while you are here.”

“Carmen, Ron was hit by something that dampened his magic. He’ll need to relearn most things, so he’s very vulnerable right now. Can I trust you with him?”

Carmen smiled and nodded.

“Play nicely, both of you,” Harry warned, “and try not to transform him into anything too messy when he annoys you,” he added with a wink.

Harry made his way over to the portrait hole.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, guys?” he asked quietly.

They all nodded.

*

Harry, Hydrus and Hermione set off together. Luna, Neville and Ginny would search separately.

“Harry, Minerva didn’t explain very much in her announcement. What is happening?”

“Minerva, is it now?” asked Harry with a smile. “You’re getting as cheeky as Carmen.”

“Well, I am older that she is, counting in snake years.”

“There’s no such thing as snake years.”

“Are you ever going to tell me?”

“Okay,” said Harry quietly, carefully peering around the corner. They stayed at this vantage point while Harry explained.

“I had the oddest feeling early this evening. I was sure something was in the castle that shouldn’t be here.”

“I know that much.”

“Yes, well Professor McGonagall got news after we went into the forest. She summoned Peeves to conduct a search. Unfortunately, Peeves is missing again.”

“It wasn’t Carmen this time!”

“I never said it was,” replied Harry calmly. “No, Professor McGonagall knows that Carmen gave me her word not to do that again.”

“So,” said Hydrus, “whatever got Peeves knew that he could find him?”

“That’s our assumption.”

“What is this thing we’re after?”

“Not what, who. We are looking for someone who has been able to come and go unhindered. They know the school intimately and are invisible to both the Marauder’s map and, I assume, normal eyes as well.”

“Another Poltergeist?”

“This is still a possibility, but I doubt it. It takes years for Poltergeists to become strong and I can’t see Peeves giving up he position as chief trouble maker so easily.”

“A ghost then?”

“No, this one fires hexes at people in the forest.”

“Ah,” said Hydrus. “I thought I could smell burnt flesh.”

“Well, that’s why you’re here. Hydrus, I want you to smell the air for any unusual scent. I’m convinced we are looking for something alive.”

“Hold your sleeve up, will you?”

“I want you to stay hidden for now,” whispered Harry. “If they suspect you can detect them-”

“I understand. Just swing your arm casually, then.”

*

They proceeded along the corridors and in each classroom and storeroom, but after an hour of searching they had found nothing.

It was almost dawn now, although the school should normally have been busy by now.

“Unusual,” muttered Hydrus.

Harry at once held his hand up to warn Hermione who could not hear the snake, nor understand if she had.

Harry casually waved his arm around saying loudly, “I think we’re wasting out time here, Hermione.”

“Yes,” she agreed lightly.

“Definitely something,” whispered Hydrus.

“Tell you what, I’ll finish up here. You go and report in?”

“Sure, Harry,” Hermione replied before walking off down the corridor they had just come from.

Harry stayed where he was so he was sure she got away safely. Hermione would warn the others that they’d found something.

He walked very slowly and quietly along the corridor.

“This one,” whispered Hydrus.

Harry nodded to indicate he understood.

“It smells like rotting flesh. Human flesh. But there’s something else as well.”

Harry pushed open the door to the empty classroom.

*

Harry felt a dread far greater than he had ever felt when facing Voldemort as he entered the darkened classroom.

Although Professor McGonagall had assured him that no one was missing and that all the students were accounted for, Harry quite expected to find a body. If the intruder used Polyjuice potion to assume someone’s appearance, they would want to ensure the person they had impersonated did not make any inconvenient appearances.

He prayed for the victim not to be a student.

Harry could smell it now. Hydrus was right. The smell was unmistakable.

He swept his wand around and all the lanterns in the room burst into life.

Harry went straight for the cupboard at the front of the classroom.

He opened the doors and grimaced at the smell. There was a large bundle of rags stuffed into the bottom of the cupboard. He pulled the rags out.

Harry sighed with relief. There was no body, but there was plenty of space to hide one. This classroom was hardly ever used now. These particular cupboards were rarely visited, as well.

“I’m sure a body was kept here. Probably for quite a while too, from the smell.”

“Yes,” agreed Hydrus quietly.

“I can smell some kind of perfume too,” Harry said normally. “Probably to hide the smell. It looks like our culprit can’t even perform basic preservation spells. Mind you, why on earth didn’t they just transfigure the body?”

“Harry!” whispered Hydrus in the tiniest of voices. “We’re not alone!”

13. Detention

Journey Home by Jardyn39

Chapter Thirteen: Detention

Hermione was running as fast as she could on her way to Professor McGonagall’s office when she passed David Royce running in the opposite direction.

“David?”

They ran back to each other.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

“Just got back from Azkaban,” David gasped. “I need to find Harry! Where is he?”

“He’s up on the Third Floor again. We think we found something. I came to get help.”

“I need to warn him,” said David. “Please tell McGonagall but please stay there. Your other friends should be with her as well.”

He hurried off shouting, “The Ministry records were wrong, Hermione! They were wrong!”

“David, what records?” Hermione shouted after him, but he’d gone.

She hurried on herself.

*

Harry stood, turned and fired in one movement. He intended to keep shooting stunners around the room but something hit him, barging him painfully against the cupboard shelves.

He fell to the floor, trying to grab whatever had hit him.

The smell was incredible.

Suddenly a lower leg became visible just in front of his face, but it was quite unlike any living leg Harry had ever seen. The flesh was grey and peeling away to reveal putrid fat and muscles.

Hydrus shot out of Harry’s sleeve and sunk long venomous fangs into the leg. The tiny golden snake was shrugged off with a kick, and sent flying across the room.

The leg became invisible again and Harry heard desks being shoved out of the way as the intruder made his escape.

Harry rushed over to Hydrus.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Go! Leave me!”

Harry rushed out of the classroom in pursuit. He ran down the corridor and found David Royce sprawled out on the floor, attempting to pick himself up.

“David?”

He looked at Harry blankly for a moment, clearly dazed.

“Harry,” he said at last. “Why was I coming to see you?”

“How about to warn me about an intruder?” asked Harry with a grin, pulling Royce to his feet.

“Or two,” added Royce. “Harry, what’s all that noise?”

“It’s just the students. Professor McGonagall said they could go to breakfast provided nothing was found.”

Harry swore loudly as the realisation of what he’d just said hit him.

They ran down to the main entrance.

*

Fortunately, the intruder appeared to be slow on their feet. Just as Harry got to the stair landing, he saw a student being shoved to one side by an invisible force.

Harry pointed his wand at the main entrance doors, which then slammed shut and bolted themselves at once.

He realised the invisible intruder must have gone into the Great Hall, judging from the noise.

Royce had caught up with him.

“Stay here,” ordered Harry. “Remember, we need this one alive!”

Harry rushed into the Great Hall and Royce magically closed and sealed the doors.

“Wands out, everyone!” shouted Harry jumping up onto the Ravenclaw table. “We have an invisible intruder in here. Shout if you get pushed or smell anything unpleasant.”

A great murmuring erupted from the students at these words.

“Silence!” shouted Harry, before continuing more quietly. “We need quiet to hear the intruder. Think now, don’t make me regret allowing you stay and help.”

Of course, Harry’s only real regret was allowing the intruder in the hall where students were vulnerable. However, at least there was total silence in the hall now, as everyone listened.

The only sound was Harry’s quiet footsteps as he walked along the table.

“Shoot sparks where you think they may be. You’ll see an outline if you’re right.”

He continued along the table.

A couple of students fired sparks at what they thought was the intruder.

“The thing about being invisible,” Harry continued, “is that it is very difficult to remember that you are still solid. People can still bump into you, hear you, smell you.”

He turned slowly, needing confirmation that the intruder was where he thought.

If he was right, they would run for the exit.

Harry reminded himself that he needed this intruder alive and capable of talking. The only reason why Professor McGonagall hadn’t stopped the students coming down for breakfast would be if she hadn’t got Hermione’s message.

He pointed his wand but didn’t fire.

Nothing.

Harry kicked a bowl off the table. It flew off the table and then appeared to bounce of something in the air.

The intruder was spooked, and ran.

Harry fired a large spray of sparks which showed up a cloaked running figure.

“Stupefy!” said Harry. His red stunner blasted the intruder square in the back. He fell and slid along the floor, scattering a few chairs.

Students recoiled in horror as they saw what emerged from the invisibility cloak that had become dislodged.

The great doors opened and Royce stepped in.

They met next to the intruder. Thankfully, he had managed to land on his back. Harry didn’t fancy turning him over. It looked like the flesh would come away at the slightest touch.

“Recognise him?” asked Royce.

“No, but there’s not much left of his face, is there?”

“Ennervate,” said Harry, and the figure woke with a great intake of breath.

Harry recognised the eyes at once.

“The Ministry records showed he died,” explained Royce. “But Azkaban the records said he was actually released on account of his dying.”

“So he faked his death?”

“No, he is dead.”

“Um, so who is this?”

“Do I have to listen to you morons for much longer?” complained their prisoner. “Of course I’m dead you idiot, Potter. Just look at me!”

“While he was in Azkaban he contracted something a little unpleasant,” advised Royce.

“What was he doing there anyway?”

“Well, at his hearing he asked for several other offences to be taken into consideration. He was remanded in Azkaban awaiting sentencing, but in the end he only got one month.”

“He’s not contagious, is he?”

“No, don’t worry. It is strange though. Zombification is incredibly rare and almost unheard of in this country, yet there were two cases in Azkaban at almost the same time.”

“Great, so there’s another zombie walking around out there somewhere. I assume he’s the accomplice?”

“Yes, it is rather likely that he may be an accomplice. No, he’s not exactly a zombie.”

“How do you know?”

“The Azkaban records show that he was cremated. The guards think it was an escape attempt. Somehow the prisoner got hold of a potion that turned them into a zombie. They then took on all the features of a normal dead body. They think the plan was for the body to be claimed and then for a restorative draught to bring them back. Great plan, except the family sent word asking for a cremation. The Guards only realised when the screaming started in the oven. They were a little slow to react, unfortunately. Not a lot was left.”

Harry frowned.

“So how did you come to become a zombie?” he asked.

The captive just glared up at him.

Harry pointed his wand directly at him.

“What? You’re going to threaten me? What can you do that I’ve not suffered a thousand times over? I can’t feel anything but constant agony any more! I can’t be killed because I’m not alive!”

Harry looked up at Royce.

“Yes, he does rather have a point,” he agreed.

“Um, Harry?”

Harry started. It was Carmen. He hadn’t seen her there.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I read a book on zombies.”

Royce looked at her dismissively, but Harry knew better.

“Go on, Carmen.”

“Well, it is true that zombies, real zombies that is, can’t be hurt or killed. However, if a restorative potion is administered, then they can be restored, not just reanimated. That is, they will feel pain again and can also be killed.”

“Could you make us some potion? We need it now, though. We have to find Hermione.”

“Well, the active ingredient happens to be the venom from an incredibly rare snake that usually inhabits the South American rain forests.”

Harry’s face grew into a smile.

“This snake, it wouldn’t happen to be small, golden and incredibly cheeky, would it?”

Carmen grinned and nodded.

“I’ll go and find him!” shouted Carmen, turning to run out of the Hall.

“No need, Carmen.”

Harry turned back.

“How’s the leg feeling?”

“What do you mean? I-, ARGH!” he shouted as Harry stepped on him.

*

“Harry, don’t take this the wrong way,” whispered Royce, “but was it really a good idea to threaten to torture someone in front of all your students? It’s not exactly leading by example, is it?”

“No,” Harry admitted, “but I might get more homework handed in on time now.”

Harry was studying his Marauder’s Map closely as they made their way along the dungeon corridor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been down here,” said Harry, pointing towards a door.

Royce unlocked the door and heaved it open.

“Lumos!” whispered Harry.

The dark narrow corridor extended far beyond the reach of Harry wand light. They began to walk onwards.

After a few minutes they came to a junction shaped like a cross.

Harry folded and pocketed the map.

“It doesn’t go this far.”

“Which way shall we try first?”

“Listen,” said Harry, holding up his hand. “Down here!”

They ran down the corridor, following the source of the indistinct noises.

*

Harry was sure they had the correct room, although it was silent now.

“I’ll blow the door,” he whispered, “then we both rush in.”

The heavy timber and iron door was blasted into fragments into the room. Harry rushed in with Royce close behind.

Harry felt something heavy crash down on him. Whoever this was they had been hiding behind the door.

Harry fell, rolled over and fired. His stunner bounced off the walls.

“Stop!” shouted Hermione’s voice from out of the choking dust that now filled the air. “It’s Harry! Don’t. He’s on our side!”

Harry felt another blow from his invisible assailant.

“Peeves, I’m warning you!” shouted Hermione.

Harry could hear familiar chuckling now.

“Peeves!” he muttered, and the Poltergeist appeared in front of him at once.

“Just making sure,” he said slyly, barely able to contain himself.

The room was clearing now. Royce was sprawled out on the floor again, apparently having been hit by Peeves as well.

Hermione, was sitting on a large box in the middle of the room.

She looked rather dusty, but also rather pleased with herself.

“Sorry, David. Sorry, Harry,” she said contritely before breaking into a loud laugh.

“Hermione, kidnap victims aren’t allowed to laugh at their rescuers,” said Harry, dusting himself off. “It’s in the Auror handbook.”

Royce snorted.

“Well, we thought you were the accomplice and decided to capture you as well,” she said defiantly.

“No, Hermione, we got the other one,” said Harry. “Are you okay?” he asked seriously.

“Of course I am,” she said dismissively. “You don’t think Peeves and the second brightest witch Hogwarts has seen for quarter of a century together would be any match for a mere wizard, do you?”

Harry contented himself with just rolling his eyes.

“He’s in there, is he?” asked Royce, indicating the large chest Hermione was sitting on.

Peeves laughed maniacally as Hermione looked guiltily away and said quietly, “Some of him is in here, yes.”

*

Hermione jumped off the chest and the three of them approached as Peeves looked on expectantly.

Harry lifted the lid.

A burnt and charred partial skeleton was in the bottom. The skull was on its side looking away from them and Harry could see it still had a jaw, part of the backbone, the top half of the ribcage and one complete arm.

“What did you do to him?”

“Me?” said Hermione indignantly.

“Tell us what happened, Hermione,” said Harry seriously.

“Well, the two of them managed to catch Peeves down here on one of his excursions. He wouldn’t tell me how they did it. I suspect he’s worried some of the students might find out.

“Anyway, I saw him as I was running to raise the alarm. His invisibility cloak slipped and I caught a glimpse of something headed down here. There was no one else around so I decided to follow.

“He must have heard me though, because he got me when I came through that door. When I came to, he was trying to contain Peeves.

“Unfortunately, Peeves rather upset him. He literally began to fall to pieces. I collected the bigger bits and dumped them in here while we waited. It is really quite extraordinary how the rest of him kept walking around.”

“So where is the rest of him?”

“I afraid those bits got blown up when the door was blasted in. This dust. It’s bone.”

“Oh great,” sighed Harry, hanging his head. “Another reprimand from Kingsley.”

The skull lying in the bottom of the chest turned to face him, his jaw moving as if speaking.

“Harry,” said Royce, “wouldn’t it be kinder to finish the job? He’s blind, dumb and condemned never to rest like this.”

“No,” replied Harry gently, looking directly into the empty eye sockets of the moving skull. “It’s not for us to judge or execute him. The Wizengamot can decide if they wish, but it won’t be us.”

Harry picked up a couple of larger pieces of door fragments and transfigured them into a smaller chest complete with a padded lining. He gently transferred the skeleton and closed the lid which had a small glass viewing window.

“What’s that for?”

“I don’t know if he can see or not. He can still move without muscles, so it might be possible.”

Hermione lead the way out.

Royce looked at the box and said, “You know Harry, I wanted to kill him so badly. Now I actually feel sorry for him.”

Harry nodded and followed.

Just before they got out of the dungeon Royce asked, “I don’t suppose there’s any way that dust we left could reconstitute itself somehow, is there?”

*

“Hermione,” Ron pleaded in the voice he had perfected during their Second Year. “Please help me with my homework.”

“But how will you learn, Ron?”

Ron continued along the table.

“Ginny? Didn’t I come out of my hole just for you?”

“I’ll push you back in if you don’t watch it,” she replied with a grin.

“Neville. My good friend Neville. You’ll help me, won’t you?”

Neville grinned at him.

“Tell you what, Neville. I’ve been giving this some serious consideration and I’ve almost decided. I’m sure that will a little help in the homework department will give you credit.”

“Credit for what?” Neville found himself asking.

“I’ve almost decided to give my consent to you going out with Ginny.”

“Really?” said Neville, fingering his wedding band. “Going out with her?”

“Well, so long as there’s a chaperone. And no kissing. Hey stop that! I said no kissing!”

Harry laughed and returned to his conversation with Luna and Hermione.

“So who were they?” asked Luna. “The zombies, I mean.”

“Well, this really all started with someone called Stratford.”

“The Minister of Magic?”

“Yes. He was convicted and sent to Azkaban were he’s been until quite recently. The other one was called Agnellina. He used to be a teacher here. He resigned just before I got here.

“Agnellina attempted to destroy Carmen Callidus’ wand. He also made a complaint about me for something I did to him on the day he left here.”

Luna raised her eyebrows enquiringly.

“I re-plumbed a few of his internal organs. Nothing permanent, but probably rather painful. Particularly, getting it corrected. Anyway, he couldn’t do anything because I’m still on the active Auror books.”

“Hm,” said Hermione. “I’m thinking of lobbying for a change to that law. It’s hardly fair that Aurors can do anything and remain unpunished.”

“Well, I did get a reprimand,” replied Harry with a grin. “Besides, every dark wizard caught would claim we’d treated them unfairly.”

“I expect some of them were!”

“You were telling me about Agnellina and Stratford?” interrupted Luna, putting an end to their argument.

“Sorry Luna,” said Harry. “Yes, Agnellina was only charged with attempting to destroy a wand. He wouldn’t have been sent to Azkaban at all, except he’d been up to a few other things.”

“Yes,” added Hermione. “They were all really minor. I acted as prosecuting counsellor at his hearing. We recommended a fine and release.”

“No, that wouldn’t have worked,” said Harry. “Kingsley was right to want him to go on a rehabilitation course. Anyway, he was sent to Azkaban to await his sentence. He would almost have caught the next boat back, actually.”

“So what happened,” asked Luna.

“He had the misfortune of having a cell next to Stratford. Azkaban isn’t nearly as dreadful place as it was when the dementors ran things, but it is still very intimidating. The guards said Agnellina was quite terrified.

“Stratford extended a helping hand to Agnellina, and I imagine he was quite grateful. Stratford explained the routine and put Agnellina at his ease. As a politician, though, lies and deceit come very easily.

“Stratford had heard about the escape attempt of another inmate. It sounded like a good plan, so somehow he got himself involved in the attempt. With a life sentence, he had little to loose. The escape depended upon a particular potion that had been smuggled in. Stratford killed the other inmate once he got hold of the potion, making the mistake of not asking the correct dosages beforehand.”

“So, he needed a guinea pig?” asked Luna.

“Yes, the unfortunate Agnellina was probably grateful that his new friend was suddenly very generous with his rations.”

“How horrid,” breathed Luna.

“The worst of it was, Stratford still managed to get the dose wrong. Stratford took too much while Agnellina got too little.

“Agnellina died but remained animated, not knowing what had happened to him. Stratford took on the appearance of a corpse and was moved to the morgue. Because of the dose he took, it appears he only became reanimated while he was being cremated.

“The guards investigated Stratford’s cell and discovered Agnellina’s condition. He was released but the paperwork got confused. What was left of Stratford was boxed up and shipped off to his family. It appears that Agnellina took them, though. I presume he wanted to revenge himself upon Stratford.

“Yet Stratford still managed to persuade Agnellina to come back here and take revenge against me.”

“How did they communicate?”

“We’ve no idea,” Harry admitted. “Could be zombie telepathy for all we know.”

Professor McGonagall swept along beside the Gryffindor table where they were all finishing lunch, clearing her throat as she got to them.

“Mr Potter, I believe you have an appointment?”

“Thanks, I’m just on my way,” said Harry getting up. “Coming?” he asked Hermione quietly.

Hermione smiled but shook her head no. “No, Harry, but perhaps I’ll drop in later.”

“Mr Weasley,” continued Professor McGonagall, “is it true that you’ve been given a detention already?”

“Um, yes Professor,” he admitted, going red.

“I know you are only with us for one day, Mr Weasley, but I do expect you to behave yourself.”

“Yes, Professor,” he said sheepishly as she continued up to the staff table.

Harry grinned seeing many wagging fingers being waved at Ron.

14. Often Soothe We

Journey Home

by Jardyn39

Chapter Fourteen: Often Soothe We

Harry knocked on the door to Professor McGonagall’s office out of habit, even though he knew there was no one in there.

He opened the door and stepped inside.

Harry smiled seeing the portrait of Professor Dumbledore still standing in the middle of the room.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, closing the door and approaching.

“Not at all, Harry. Draw up a chair, won’t you?”

Harry smiled and drew in the air with his wand. The fine gold leaf late Regency chair rotated once and then gently dropped to the floor. Harry sat, easing himself into the fine scarlet upholstery.

He looked around the room and realised there was something missing.

Harry turned back to see Dumbledore watching him kindly.

“Where have all the other people in the portraits gone?”

“I asked if we might be permitted a few minutes to speak alone, Harry,” admitted Dumbledore. “One of my portraits now hangs in The Hog’s Head, just next to the new Ten Pin Bowling attraction. I suspect they’ve gone to soak up the atmosphere.”

Harry snorted.

“So, Harry. You know? I see a very different young man before me than the last time we spoke.”

Harry gave a sad smile and nodded.

“I very much regret being the one to have told you. I knew that the decisions you made that night would have a far reaching impact.”

Harry shook his head, his throat beginning to tighten.

“At one stage, I was quite convinced you would never recover sufficiently even to enter the forest again. I should have known better than to underestimate you. It’s a good job Aberforth let me off my betting debts when I died!”

Harry smiled and looked down.

“Do you believe yet, Harry?”

“Yes, well, kind of. I mean, I know I had no choice but to go straight after Voldemort on the night.”

Dumbledore waited a moment before saying gently, “Go on. Start from the beginning.”

Harry struggled to find the words. He got up and began pacing the room. Upon his first return he realised why Dumbledore had instructed his Portrait to be placed where it was. He obviously knew Harry would pace and talk, as he had done himself on countless occasions.

“When I first entered the forest,” began Harry, “I was confused for a moment, but then I was absolutely sure I really was reliving that night again.”

“Naturally.”

“I heard Ginny’s scream first. It was far off into the distance. I honestly can’t remember whether I heard it on the night or not. Anyway, last night I hesitated. Just for a moment, I knew everything what I was experiencing wasn’t really happening. Then, once I’d decided what to do, I kind of forgot that again.”

“The mind is indeed a complex thing.”

“I came across Neville first, and we set off to find Ginny together. I’m afraid I did some terrible things to those Death Eaters. I was punishing them for what they did on the actual night. They hadn’t actually got started when I interrupted them.”

“Go on.”

“Neville stayed with Ginny, and I went on,” said Harry, his eyes beginning to water.

He wiped his eyes and sat down again.

Dumbledore waited patiently.

“It wasn’t real before,” said Harry, his voice cracking. “I honestly thought my troubles were all from what happened to Ginny. My guilt at not helping her that night.”

Harry didn’t bother wiping the tears away now. He was gripping both arms of the chair intently.

“I knew. I mean, I know how many died that night. I even remember walking through all the bodies on my way out of the forest. Okay, I missed the funerals being in hospital, but once Professor McGonagall told me, I knew.”

“Harry,” began Dumbledore gently, but Harry jumped up and began pacing again.

“I was so angry with them! How could they be so stupid? They knew I went in there alone precisely to keep the casualties down. They had no chance!”

“So, what happened last night?”

Harry fell heavily to his knees before Dumbledore’s portrait.

“I just kept fighting. Almost the whole time. I just kept trying to get them to safety and kill as many Death Eaters as I could.”

“Did you succeed, like you did with Ginny and Neville?”

“No,” replied Harry, his voice raw with emotion. “They kept dying. The worst of it was, they kept diving in front of killing curses intended for me.”

They were quiet for a moment as Harry continued to sob.

“Did you manage to save any of them?”

“No. It was the same as before. Two hundred and fifty three students dead, except this time I saw each one die.”

“It’s just not fair!” he shouted at last. “It was supposed to be me! I was supposed to be the one to die, not them!”

“Harry, you were prepared to give up your life for a cause you believed in. You believed that sacrificing you life was a price worth paying for the rest of us to live a life worth living. Your friends died believing in a similar cause. They didn’t go to their deaths in order to save you, they did it to improve your chances of success, didn’t they?”

Harry nodded and wiped his face.

“I only realised last night, but they drew away large numbers of Death Eaters. I really had it easy dealing with the reduced numbers on my way to find Voldemort.”

“I doubt it was that easy.”

“No, I would never have coped with the numbers of Death Eaters that were in the forest that night.”

“Harry, tell me about what happened after you dealt with Voldemort.”

Harry nodded. He knew Dumbledore was going to ask him that. He got up and sat down again.

He was about to answer when there was a knock at the door.

Harry removed and wiped his glasses on his robes and blinked back the tears. Before he could see clearly again he recognised it was Hermione.

“Should I go?” she asked quietly, half hiding behind the door.

Harry immediately held out his hand for her, and she came over to him at once.

Harry clutched hold of her hands and she sat down on the floor next to his chair.

Dumbledore just waited for Harry to continue.

“I, er,” began Harry with a very shaky voice, and he suddenly realised he was squeezing Hermione’s hand rather tightly. He released his grip slightly but she kissed the top of his hand and brought her other hand over his, holding on just as tightly.

“Um, okay. After it happened I came back to my body,” said Harry. Hermione frowned at once but Dumbledore gave her the slightest shake of his head to stop her asking what he meant. “I went over to Hermione. She was stunned but unhurt.”

Harry took a deep shuddering breath.

“Well, on the night I carried Hermione out of the clearing, but there was a lot of Death Eater activity. I decided to take her back to the clearing where I knew she’d have some protection at least. I hid her at the edge, well hidden under some undergrowth.”

“But why didn’t you revive me?” asked Hermione in a whisper.

“I just couldn’t bear to,” Harry replied. “I couldn’t let you face me then, not after what I’d just done.”

“I disabled quite a few Death Eaters on my way back until I found Ginny and Neville. After that I stopped stunning them and started killing.

“Last night was almost the same, except this time they didn’t stay down. They kept getting up again and just following me. They weren’t fighting; they just followed, talking to me.”

“What did they say?”

“They kept asking why I had killed them. Some said they had no choice but to follow orders. Many pleaded what would happen to their families. Who would support their children? Wouldn’t they just grow up wanting revenge? Wouldn’t they ever know love and happiness? Who would guide them and teach them values?”

Harry stopped, panting slightly, his eyes betraying that he was still remembering vividly what he had seen.

“As a matter of fact, Harry,” Dumbledore said gently, “a large number of the students that fought and died, were children of Death Eaters present in the forest that night.”

Harry looked up.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel much comfort from that.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Harry, the Wizengamot chose to proclaim your actions to be one of a hero. They will never bring you to trial for what you have done. Nevertheless, I believe what you did was wrong and excessive. I don’t doubt that some, indeed many, of the Death Eaters out there that night were quite beyond redemption. However, you knew that night that they weren’t all Death Eaters. Many were frightened conscripts, but you judged them all equally guilty and punished them accordingly.

“Last night, you were judged, Harry. Not by the Wizengamot, but by a far harsher, more impartial judge. I refer to yourself, of course.

“I can’t help but feel that Voldemort won something in your actions that night. I do not say this lightly, and I know that in your place I would have been tempted to do the same things myself.

“The forest is quite a remarkable place. It is far more ancient than many give it credit for and has seen many atrocities, some far worse than what happened that night.

“The fact that you walked out of the forest again last night, Harry, tells me you will make amends. The forest would not let you go if it saw denial or excuses. I know, Harry, because I too was brought back here to face up to my own actions on a night a very long time ago.

“I left with a new sense of value for life in all its varied forms. That entails tolerance of others, respect for differences and the promotion of peace. For me, that entailed a significant change in lifestyle. I suspect that you will not need to experience such upheaval, or rather, you’ve already made the start you need.”

“Does it ever leave you? The feeling, I mean.”

“No, Harry. But it does get easier with time and achievement. I always felt that welcoming the students back each September gave me the greatest strength to keep fighting the demons back.”

Harry sighed deeply.

“Mr Royce was kind enough to tell me about the box you transfigured for Stratford. He thought that a padded container with a window view was quite eccentric to transport a skeleton, especially considering what he was and had done.”

Harry looked up again and nodded.

“He wasn’t sentenced to suffer like that.”

“You make me proud to hear you say that. I understand Mr Agnellina actually stands a very good chance of making a full recovery. He’s at St Mungos now. Apparently the snake that bit him had venom with healing properties as well.”

“I’m glad,” said Harry.

“I take it you won’t be pressing for additional charges to be brought?”

“No, but I may have a word with him once he’s got a little better.”

“Harry,” warned Hermione.

“Just a friendly chat,” he assured her with a wry smile.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and asked, “There is one other matter we should perhaps discuss.”

They turned to him expectantly.

“Harry, I suspected that Hagrid intended to invest you as Keeper of the Keys, and I must admit I may have given him the idea in the first place.”

Harry nodded.

“However, I didn’t think Hagrid knew anything about the additional protection that can sometimes be afforded to the bearer.”

“Actually, Hagrid found out about it from the Centaurs when we tried to recruit them. They were trying to taunt him by telling him he didn’t even know what the Keeper of the Keys really was.”

“You were present?”

“Yes. I’m sure Hagrid wouldn’t have told me given the choice. We argued for quite a while before I agreed.”

“Why did you agree, Harry?”

“I fully intended to invest Hermione with the Keys. I couldn’t take the chance.”

“Indeed. Well, what’s done is done,” said Dumbledore with resignation. “I suppose it would do no harm now to tell you, but I had an entirely different motive for wanting you to become Keeper of the Keys. Hagrid intended you to have protection, but it would never have shielded you from Voldemort.”

“But, I saw last night, Professor,” said Hermione. “Voldemort fired a killing curse at me, and I survived.”

“I meant, it would never have protected Harry.”

Harry’s eyes widened with understanding.

“Um,” asked Hermione, “so was what I saw last night actually what really happened, at the beginning, I mean?”

Harry shrugged and said, “Well, it sounded fairly similar at the beginning, but actually, we didn’t end our duel in that clearing. You see-”

“Harry,” Dumbledore interrupted gently.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Hermione. I gave my word not to say.”

Hermione frowned at both of them.

*

Hermione looped her arm around Harry’s as they walked away from Professor McGonagall’s office.

Harry was deep in thought. He was grateful that Hermione chose not to interrupt, although he knew that she was probably burning with questions.

They had walked a little way when Hermione asked, “Harry, where are we going?”

“What? Oh, sorry Hermione. I’ve no idea.”

Hermione smiled and said, “It doesn’t matter. Let’s walk some more.”

“Actually, I’d quite like to freshen up.”

“Sure, let’s go back to the apartment.”

“No, Myrtle’s bathroom is closer. Let’s nip in there.”

“Okay,” agreed Hermione as they set off again. “Oh, you missed George earlier.”

“George?”

“Yes. He said sorry but he couldn’t stop because he had another delivery. I said you’d understand.”

“Um, thanks. Why was he here, though?”

“No idea. He was hurrying to leave when I saw him.”

*

Harry walked into the classroom at precisely five o’clock that evening to find Ron and, to his surprise, Carmen as well. They were sitting at a couple of desks in the front row.

“Carmen? Did you get a detention too?”

“No, but I do feel a little responsible. You asked me to look after Ron, after all.”

“You taking this detention, Harry?” asked Ron.

“That’s right. I asked especially.”

“Great! You’ll let me off, won’t you?”

“No, Ron. But you may go if you wish, Carmen.”

Carmen picked up her bag, but then hesitated.

“What is it, Carmen?”

“Well, it’s just that I found out that man, the zombie, was Professor Agnellina. I didn’t recognise him at all in the Great Hall. We only found out after you’d all gone.”

“That’s right. It was him.”

“I really hated him, but what happened to him was awful.”

Harry smiled reassuringly.

“Yes it was. But thanks to Hydrus’ venom he stands a good chance of making a recovery.”

Harry had asked Hydrus about the healing properties of his venom, and he was a little unnerved to be told that it was just to prolong the agony of his victims.

“But, the thing is,” she continued quietly. “When I first heard who it was, I just laughed. Then I felt just awful.”

Harry went over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. Suddenly she appeared very much like the frightened little girl he’d met all those years ago.

“We all react and say things we later come to regret. Try to remember your feelings though. Sooner or later you will upset someone close to you. It’s important to recognise those times and do something about it.”

Carmen nodded and smiled.

She turned on her way out and shouted, “’Night Ron. Behave yourself now!”

The door closed and Harry turned to Ron.

“You’re not going to make me do lines, are you?”

“No, Ron.” He replied sitting in Carmen’s vacated chair. “You don’t really have to do the detention. I just wanted a word with you before you go.”

“Oh. Sure, Harry. What is it?”

“First of all, Hermione has signed you up for a course of further education magic. You’ll do part time and evening study. All of us will help you do your homework, so you’ll soon be back to your old self.”

“Thanks, Harry,” he replied, sounding less than optimistic.

“I promise it won’t be like school and there will be plenty of other people in the same boat as you.”

Ron shrugged.

“The second thing concerns what happened last night in the forest.”

Ron looked up.

“I saw what happened to you Ron. There’s nothing you could have done. I don’t think I could have coped being trapped in that hole and utterly defenceless.”

“Yes, well,” mumbled Ron.

“My point is, I shouldn’t have needed to actually see what happened. I should have just trusted that your reaction was enough.

“Ron, I am truly sorry for not being there for you.”

Ron smiled sadly and said quietly, “I know you are, mate.”

Then he continued normally, “Of course, I’ll expect you to make up for it in the quality of my Christmas and Birthday presents.”

Harry laughed and said, “Fine, but I’m afraid Hermione controls my spending these days.”

Ron snorted.

“Um, Ron? Just what did you get the detention for, anyway?”

“Passing notes and writing inappropriate comments in my textbook.”

“Who were you passing notes to?”

“Luna, of course!”

“Oh, well that’s okay then. Whose textbook had you borrowed?”

“Hermione’s. From Third Year, I think.”

“Show me?”

Ron handed Harry Hermione’s immaculately kept charms book.

He opened the cover and couldn’t miss the, “Cannons Rule!” comment.

“She’s going to kill you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Me? Nah!”

“Maybe we can erase it,” said Harry, getting out his wand.

“Nope! Carmen made it permanent for me.”

“Ron!” Harry moaned in exasperation. “Okay, perhaps I could buy her another edition. It would have to be from the same print though. Hermione notices things like that.”

“She’s also written something inside the cover.”

“Her name. Yes, I saw. Maybe we could forge it.”

“You might want to take a closer look, Harry.”

He frowned, but opened the book again as directed. It looked completely blank apart from Ron’s scrawl.

“Carmen found it. Touch it with your wand, Harry.”

Instantly the multicoloured, animated and flashing message appeared.

“Wow!” he breathed.

*

Harry hurried along the corridor within the staff accommodation area towards their apartment. He hoped he would have time to shower and change before joining the others for dinner.

He opened the door, leapt inside and slammed the door behind him, struggling to pull of his robes on his way to the bathroom.

“Harry, do you have to throw your clothes all over the place?” asked Hermione in an amused voice.

Harry put his arms down to reply, his shirt still over his heat. Through the material, he could see that something was different about the room. He pulled his shirt down again.

Unfortunately his words came out as a garbled croaking noise that he made when he saw the room properly.

“Do you like it?”

Harry couldn’t speak.

“Dobby did a quite remarkable job, didn’t he?”

Harry looked around.

“Harry, breath,” instructed Hermione, sounding amused. “You’re going red.”

He breathed, but didn’t feel much better.

“What on earth got into him?”

“Now, we did ask him to decorate for us, didn’t we? You mustn’t go and hurt his feelings. I’m sure he thought we would like it, particularly given your recent obsessions. Perhaps he just got carried away.”

Harry walked over and around the various obstructions in the room towards Hermione and sat next to her on their single item of furniture.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to look at the other rooms yet,” he admitted.

Hermione leaned over and kissed him before snuggling up to him.

“This room is actually rather relaxing,” said Hermione, “once you get over the initial shock.”

“At least nothing has started singing yet,” observed Harry.

“And the babbling brook is quite a talking point.”

“I wonder how much wildlife has moved in with us as well.”

“I haven’t seen anything, although you occasionally hear birdsong in the distance.”

“Vacuuming is going to be a problem, especially in the autumn when all these trees begin to shed their leaves.”

Hermione laughed. “Maybe it is all a bit much for one small room.”

“Where have all the bookshelves gone?” wondered Harry.

Hermione sat up straight. This was serious. “Where are my books?” she demanded urgently.

She shot up and went over to where the shelves were, kicking over a small branch lying on the floor.

Harry spotted a small white envelope that must have been propped against it and facing the other way. He picked it up. The envelope was addressed to him.

Harry opened the envelope and took out the single sheet of paper inside. He unfolded it and realised it was an invoice made out to him from Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes.

“Er, Hermione, I don’t think Dobby decorated for us.”

“What?”

“Look at this,” he said handing her the invoice.

“One portable forest,” she read aloud. “Harry, why on earth did you order a portable forest?”

“I didn’t, Hermione. Look at the customer order reference.”

She read again.

It read, “mucker at Conifer Farm.”

“So now we know what George was doing here earlier. How did he get in here, anyway?” asked Harry.

Hermione wasn’t listening. She fumbled around in her bag, still staring at the piece of paper.

“What is it?” asked Harry.

“I think it may be an anagram, Harry.”

Harry paused before saying, “We know someone who likes anagrams, don’t we?”

“Yes, and you can make Carmen from some of the letters. That leaves muckeratoifrf.”

Hermione placed the parchment she’d just drawn on onto the couch and the both kneeled in front of it to look at the remains of the anagram.

“You really should get a desk, Harry.”

“What if it says from Carmen?” asked Harry.

“Good idea. Yes, that works.”

Hermione crossed off four more letters to leave uckeratif.

“No way!” shouted Harry, taking the quill and writing the full answer out.

“Fruit cake from Carmen!” read Hermione, bursting into laughter.

“How did she get it in here?” asked Harry, before laughing too.

“I think she got you this time, Harry. Don’t worry though, the other rooms are unaffected. Go on, you need to hurry of we’ll be late for dinner.”

“The others stayed then?”

“No, we’re all invited to the Burrow. Molly and Arthur want to celebrate Ron’s return properly. Hurry up!”

Harry stood and pulled her to her feet before wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m really sorry for how I’ve been over the last few days,” he said gently.

“I know, Harry.”

He leaned in and kissed her, before taking her hand and gently pulling her towards the bathroom.

“Harry, we’re going to be late again!” said Hermione, smiling at him.

“I know what you drew in your textbook,” he announced with a grin.

“What book?”

“The Third Year Charms book you loaned to Ron.”

“What? Oh, that!” she replied, going red.

Harry smiled and continued pulling her towards the door.

“It was just a phase I was going through,” she said with half a laugh.

“You got over it then?”

“Oh, yes. He really just annoys me these days.”

“You really got over him, then?”

“Well, almost. For a while, anyway.”

They closed the bathroom door behind them and didn’t see the portable forest, having been timed to dispose of any evidence of itself, vanish in a series of flashes and dull bangs. As the uneven woodland floor was again replaced with the familiar worn and moth eaten carpet, the couch shifted slightly and dislodged the small book that had been balanced on the arm.

The book fell open onto the scarlet cushioned seat, and the magic that filled the room appeared to touch the book.

An animated ink drawing appeared inside the front cover. A poorly drawn but nonetheless quite recognisable boy with scruffy dark hair and wearing spectacles walked into the garland of colourful flowers that made up the border. He was hand in hand with another drawn figure.

The silent girl appeared to be pointing and laughing, drawing the boy’s attention to the small piece of paper lying next to the open book.

In its top right hand corner, the invoice now read, “Sheet One of Two.”

The boy grinned and nodded in understanding. He gently brushed aside the girl’s long wild looking hair.

The room fell quiet again and gradually, as the figures moved closer to kiss, the ink sketch faded so the two figures could enjoy their privacy once more.

END

-

Well, that’s it! Thanks for reading.

Note: Yes, “Often Soothe We,” is (of course) an anagram of, “Sheet One of Two.” Actually, in retrospect I think I prefer the alternative title, “We Tote of Hones!”

-

Update 4 April 2007:-

Belated thanks to pstibbons for recommending this piece on the Portkey Recommendation Engine. Much appreciated.

The completed sequel to this story is called “
The Shoebox”

Summary for The Shoebox:

Harry continues his first year as a Hogwarts teacher but it is his new involvement with Further Education classes that reveals some disturbing developments at the Ministry. Meanwhile, as one shy and reclusive student pursues a secret obsession in the castle, another frightened youth hides deep in the Forbidden Forest. Neither knows of the other, but they are destined to meet before an innocuous shoebox and share The Boy Who Lived’s final secret. This post-Hogwarts story is a sequel to Journey Home.