Unofficial Portkey Archive

After the splinch between Harry and Dobby was corrected, both were given short-term Sleeping Draughts. Dobby had been drained of almost all of his strength, magical and otherwise; he'd dozed off almost immediately. Harry had been exhausted from the battle he'd fought. And the triple Apparation he'd performed immediately afterwards was something that had never been done before, but it was very likely that such a feat would have been enough to drain most adult wizards.

It was not quite 5:00 in the afternoon when the medi-witch closed the door, and told Molly Weasley that Harry should be asleep soon. The red-headed adoptive mother had asked if she could visit him, but she'd been told that she shouldn't go in until after he woke up.

For just a moment Molly thought about what little she'd learned of Harry's latest battle. Not much was known. Ginny had been there for only the very brief fight with the first three Death Eaters and the arrival of the next, larger contingency. Molly thanked God that Arabella had stopped her Gryffindor daughter from entering the clash.

Arabella, on the other hand, had been in shock from the fight - shock produced by the destruction of her house around her head and the fear that she would be left to the less than tender mercies of the Death Eaters assaulting her home. When the Apparation had worked, and she'd found herself at Headquarters, Mrs. Figg had been lucid for nearly a minute; then the shock hit her and she had swooned into Ted Granger's arms - babbling quietly and incoherently until Poppy Pomfrey had given her a Dreamless Sleep potion.

Long before that, Molly had led Ron, carrying the joined Harry and Dobby, through the Floo to St. Mungo's. Harry had refused to tell Ron much about the fight other than the Death Eaters had kept coming and coming, so he'd fought them as best he could... and then Harry had gone silent, refusing to answer any more of her son's inquiries. She'd finally yelled at Ron to stop asking questions, because Harry obviously didn't want to talk about any of it.

Molly pulled an uncomfortable chair right next to the door, and sat down, leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes for a moment. Seconds later she opened her eyes. She'd heard some sort of random banging through the wall.

She quickly stood, and slowly and quietly opened Harry's door. There was a hospital tray table beside Harry's bed. He was lying on his side facing away from the door, but she saw he had his free arm up and he was pounding his fist against the table tray. She also thought she heard a sniffing sound.

Slowly and as quietly as possible she made her way into the room and closed the door behind her. Only then did she quietly call Harry's name. Harry brought the pounding hand swiftly down to his face, and Molly could tell from behind, without being able to see his face, that he was wiping his eyes.

"Harry, dear?"

"I'm fine. I'm almost asleep..."

Molly placed her hand on his arm. He stiffened, then, relaxed slightly. Trying to put all she knew about comforting into the next twelve words she said, "Harry, you're not fine. Come on, turn over and talk to me."

He did not move and neither did she. Thirty seconds later, nearly an eternity, Harry moved slightly to roll her way. She helped him continue and he hid his face with his hands.

"Please, Harry... Please talk to me... now, not later." She was so afraid to make that request, but even more fearful not to. Time seemed to stand still.

Harry exhaled and croaked, "I...." He lowered his hands and one of the most miserable faces Molly had ever seen looked out at her.

She rushed to bring him up in her arms, and Harry came forward as quickly as he could. He broke into paroxysms of noisy sobs and tearful shudders. His body felt to her like he should be making much more noise than he was, because he shook in her arms like a child bawling at the realization of a lost parent.

Of course she was softly weeping, trying not to shake or in any other way cause Harry to be concerned for her. As harsh as she could sound when reprimanding her children, or anyone else she felt needed it, Molly Weasley was more tenderhearted than ninety-nine out of a hundred.

Here was the lad she'd so longed to take in her arms and comfort. She'd only been able to do so for a short period of time right after he'd returned from fighting Voldemort and Death Eaters the night of the third event of the Triwizard Tournament. She had always cherished those few moments, but she'd known Harry had very often needed, and hadn't received, such contact since then.

Hermione and Ron had told her several weeks after that tournament that Harry had probably never had such motherly contact since the deaths of his parents. Molly wondered how he'd survived since Sirius' death without a friendly shoulder. Again she went over the regrets she and Arthur had about not being able to be more for the boy, no, young man she held in her arms. Such thinking had nearly driven her to distraction on a number of occasions.

Molly wanted to find a Time Turner and go back over all the years and hug him at every point where he should have been so consoled. Instead, she poured all the love she could into him for as long as he would allow it. She prayed that he'd cry for a long time.

When the experienced mother felt it was the time to do so, she urged, "Please tell me, Harry."

She felt him stiffen just slightly and rushed off another quick cry heavenward for help. Then Harry gulped and gave a false start in an attempt to speak. He sniffed again and finally said, "I murdered- no. I killed several people today- probably more than several." He was silent for a long time. Though aghast at this admission, Molly made the slightest of soothing noises, trying to ease Harry's pained soul.

When Harry wanted to speak again, he pushed back from her only slightly, and turned his face towards the wall. She still held him fairly closely. If in that moment he'd needed it, she would have tried to stop the planet from turning.

"They..." Harry gulped and continued. "They just kept coming.... I... I didn't think they'd stop. I just knew this was war, and I couldn't survive if I tried to not hurt anyone too badly. But, but... I felt like it was the end... I, I just knew more and more would come, and then- well... then... one of them... would eventually get in a lucky... curse." He was silent for several moments before continuing. "I- I couldn't stun them or bind them. As soon as I did someone would undo it. I'd been studying stronger... never tried any before, but...." Harry moved like he would look her in the eyes, but he stopped and jerked his head back away.

Harry continued, "I couldn't think of any other way, and... and... I didn't want to. I wanted to stop them from ever attacking anyone ever again." Harry began to rush his story, but incongruously stopped to sniff every fifteen or twenty words. "I sent arrows and boulders and fire at them. I encased several in ice. I turned over cars on them. I, I, oh, Mrs. Weasley. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain from three years ago. He, he started the Killing Curse standing over me. I had... no... choice-"

Molly wanted to scream because her "adopted son" had gone through this, but knew she had to let him continue.

Very quietly Harry said, "I... I, he was right over me. I..." Harry barely whispered, "Deflagratio."

Molly registered that this was an extremely powerful and advanced curse. It was a piece of magic designed for violent fighting centuries before. Not for a moment did she blame Harry for knowing or using such a curse, but she was still disturbed. Also, she did feel a trace of motherly pride that Harry had been able to accomplish everything he'd done, including even this gruesome battle magic. Molly wished she could make everything bad go away for this young man she loved like her own children. And she also wanted to kill Voldemort with her bare hands, and rip the head off of any Death Eater that tried to get in her way.

All this passed through her mind in the sad twinkling of an eye.

"The thing is, Mrs. Weasley..." Harry was silent for a long time. The tears were gone from his eyes, though not from his cheeks. His eyes held a determination she'd rarely seen in anyone. "I'm not that sad that they're dead." Harry said this so quietly she'd have not heard him a foot farther away. Just a little louder he continued, "Those... they were all there to kill me, no, murder me - and Ginny and Mrs. Figg probably. I'm... I'm upset by this, but I'm also a bit sad that I'm not more upset. I'm crying about being a killer now. But I'd walk right out into the corridor and kill more of them if they came here to hurt you, or me, or...."

Molly Weasley was dumbfounded - silent. She'd not really acknowledged that she could have been in fights with Death Eaters on a number of her assignments for the Order. The confrontations had not occurred. In this moment she realized she'd just thought they would duel like they had in Defense classes, and then it would be over. The grim reality that she might have been called to kill someone--

Harry began to push away and she knew this was not good - he'd probably felt her stiffening and that message she'd not meant to send. She would be doing the opposite of her intentions in holding him in the first place. She pulled against his resistance and held him as tightly as she could.

Harry eased his struggling - her message of unconditional acceptance was at least partly clear. Moments later he leaned back, and there was a look of fear on his face. He succeeded in pushing himself away from the woman who held him and tried to hide his face. "You should go... should go, Mrs. Weasley. I'm not fit company-"

She knew she had to explain, and only the truth would do. Harry deserved that at the very least. Quickly she exclaimed, "No, Harry, you're the finest of company. I'm the one who's at fault."

Harry looked up suddenly, confusion painted on his face, and a small degree of fear.

"Your actions have just brought me face-to-face with what I truly agreed to when I joined the Order. I've held an altogether childish idea that I could go into the places I've gone for the Order, and not eventually encounter what you've been through today."

"I know this is war. My brothers died in the last... well, I'm sure you know. And you saw my fears laid bare by the boggart last summer..." She sniffed back a tear. She couldn't cry on this lad, who'd never really understood tears, if her daughter was correct. "I'm fearless when I face someone who might harm one of you, but I've been kidding myself that the things I've done and places I've been haven't been... Well, I mean I haven't gone to that many really dangerous places, now have I? You kids... particularly you... Well, I must put away my childish notions."

This mild rambling held Harry's gaze, and his confusion did not end so much as transform as she spoke. There was the slightest dawning of realization in Harry's eyes as she continued. "But to think... It never occurred to me until just now, that I might need to do more than stun someone. Your words shocked me, just now, dear." When she felt Harry stiffen more she rushed on, looking into his eyes through her tears of embarrassment. "Not that anything you did shocks me. No, no, Harry, please - that's not what I mean at all. I'm shocked and dismayed at myself. Sometime I might need to hurt someone badly, or even... kill... someone on an assignment. Defensive spells are one thing, but... not always enough, now are they?

"You've made this real enough that I might now survive such a fight. Before this very minute I would've probably frozen in place in a real battle and died on the spot. You've... you've made me face the real world of this war, and now I think... for the first time, I think I can... fight it.

Molly looked him in the eyes and said, "Harry, I've tried so hard to forget the last war, but you are just like Arthur, you know."

Harry raised his head again and looked both curious and confused.

"Yes, he was just getting active in the Order at the end of the last war. I was home pregnant or nursing during most of it. But he did his part." She got a slightly fearful far away look in her eyes for just a moment.

"It was just after my brothers Fabian and Gideon were killed. I was distraught, and Arthur was both terribly sad and furious. Three nights later he was on a simple surveillance mission that went bad. He was cornered by two Death Eaters and couldn't Disapparate out. They'd backed him into some sort of alleyway where there were anti-Apparation barriers. In desperation he sent a Reductor curse at one of them, and one of them was blasted back against the wall, where he... Well, the other one escaped. Arthur was so upset. Ginny had just been born two weeks before. Holding her probably saved his sanity. That, and you- when you..." She looked up to his scar. "You've no idea the relief he felt when you... did whatever it was you did... as a baby."

Finishing her recitation, Molly rushed to her point. "Harry, you're a much more powerful wizard than Arthur - definitely more powerful than me. Arthur's one that you want at your back in a fight, but you're the one he needs to follow. He could be the Minister of Magic, not that they'd ever- but he could do a better job than Fudge, as if that'd be a compliment. But, Harry, you're the warrior, the leader, the Paladin that Albus dreams of.

"And now I just... think... I can be a part of this fight - to really hurt someone if I have to. This little chat of ours may have saved me one day, Harry."

She stared him straight in the eyes and said, "Harry. There's no pride in being a killer, but there's no shame in it either. But there is pride in doing your duty, perhaps even comfort in knowing you've helped protect others. You do realize you've saved at least hundreds of lives over the years, don't you? Probably thousands. More than one time you've saved... and, my, Ginny-" The tears that she swore she wouldn't shed in this situation cascaded over her wall of determination and it was her turn to be comforted.

Harry hugged her in return. In a minute he said, "Mrs. Weasley, the best thing I've done was save Ginny."

Molly wondered where he could possibly get his strength. What could he draw from to comfort her in spite of his own misery?

After a minute she heard Harry stifle a yawn. Finally the short-term Sleeping Draught was affecting him. She looked deeply into his eyes. "Harry, promise me you'll continue to do whatever it takes to remain a bit upset with killing. But also promise me you won't hesitate to protect yourself or anyone else."

With that she helped him settle back down on the bed, and he did not resist. He placed his glasses on the bedside table next to his wand, and she moved the tray table away from him.

He said sleepily, "I promise to do what I must, and the... other."

She said, "You sleep. I'll just be outside. But how about you consider calling me either 'Mum,' or 'Molly.' Arthur feels the same way. I'll never replace your mother, but you can still call me that if you like. Or, you can call Arthur and me by our given names. Tonks is only a little older than you are, now that you're all grown up, and she calls us by those names. If that's what you'd prefer, just tell me, and I'll settle Ron, Ginny, and the twins. It'd be okay, I assure you."

Harry stifled another yawn. "I'll think about it Mrs.- Mu- Mol- uhm..."

Molly chuckled. "You can even stay with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley if you like, dear, but I want you to know that we consider you a son and a friend, regardless of what you call us.

"You doze off now. I'll be outside waiting for Dumbledore, but I'll be listening if you call."

She tucked him in and walked to the door. Harry was already breathing slowly and evenly. She quietly closed the door and sat - guarding her son/friend/champion. In seconds the tears began steaming from her eyes. She cried silently for a long time.

Just before he fell into a deep sleep, Harry glanced at Dobby in the small bed, out of the way in the corner. He'd insisted the house-elf not be placed anywhere that he couldn't watch over his wellbeing. Too many people had referred to Dobby as, 'just a house-elf' or some such for Harry to want his little friend anywhere else.

~*~

Splinch victims can experience delayed physical shock. Over the years it had been discovered that just a few hours under a short-term Dreamless Sleep potion was all that was needed to eliminate this concern. Harry and Dobby were under such a medication. At Grimmauld Place Madam Pomfrey gave Arabella Figg an even stronger dose because of her nerves. The elderly lady had been in a state regarding the whereabouts of her cats once she'd regained some coherence, so her dose would take her through the night. She was motionless in one of the many bedrooms. Mundungus Fletcher had been assigned the task of cat herding.

It was just before 8:30 in the evening on Aberration Day. Dumbledore had not awakened Harry when he had first arrived at St. Mungo's, so the headmaster had gathered the few details he could from Ron and Molly. They were only able to relay to him Harry's brief description of the roving battle. The headmaster had already talked to Ginny, and after interviewing those at Harry's bedside at the magical hospital, he left to do battle at the Ministry of Magic. He was expected to arrive back soon. Harry wasn't expected to wake until some time just before 9:00 PM.

Two healers and a medi-witch entered Harry's room. In lowered tones they'd told Mrs. Weasley that they needed to perform several magical diagnostic spells on both patients, and the cart they had with them caused everyone to be too cramped in the room. Hesitantly, Molly agreed to stay outside.

The whispering voices caught Harry's attention, but he hadn't noticeably stirred. He didn't want to wake, the bed felt especially good, but he was nearly completely cognizant of what was then happening in his room.

Just as Harry heard a whispered spell locking the door, he felt an evil presence in the recesses of his subconscious. His eyes popped open and he saw that one of the healers had pulled out his wand, and was pointing it straight at his, Harry's chest. Harry just knew this was not a medical procedure. Slowly the healer opened his mouth and the words even more slowly formed, "Avada Ke-"

Harry felt like he was moving through treacle. His reaction time seemed too slow to him, but he acted anyway. Raising and swinging his head to find his glasses and wand, Harry saw the other two in the room had their wands pointed at him also. He rolled off of the bed to his right and away from his assailants and the door. His right hand swiped his wand off of the table and then his left hand completed the roll around, crossed over his right hand, which was already holding his wand, and grabbed his glasses.

A huge jagged hole blew through the hospital bed as the Killing Curse hit it. Harry completed his roll from the bed, and he used his right leg to viciously shove the remains of the hospital bed towards his attackers. He continued his roll as he made contact with the floor - rolling served to lessen his pain as he hit. Ted Granger's floor mat training had paid off.

Harry protected his glasses in the initial impact, and opened them with a flick of his wrist, putting them in place, as he kept rolling. At the point of impact his right hand and wand were pointed at the legs of his assailants. He shot red, stunning spells at them in rapid succession. His first attacker had been hit hard by the bed and had cracked several ribs as he was thrown back against a floor level cabinet by the careening bed. The Stunning spell further incapacitated him. The medi-witch also fell with the second stunner. She too was knocked unconscious when she hit her head on a metal rubbish bin in the corner. Her scalp was cut, and she bled profusely on the floor.

The other healer had jumped up onto a chair as the first two stunners hit his co-conspirators. He was about to send another curse Harry's way when the one being attacked heard a rather loud finger snap. The last standing attacker was hurled against the wall, where his skull made a hollow, sickening sounding thud, as it hit the edge of a cupboard. Dobby had most probably saved Harry's life.

Harry finally heard noise coming from the door. Mrs. Weasley had been shouting and banging on it during the brief four seconds of the encounter. Before Harry could point his wand at it and cast, "Alohamora," the door was shattered by a Reductor curse and the lioness protecting her eighth cub, roared into the room. She looked around and was completely nonplussed by the blood and destruction. She turned her body to half face the door with her wand pointed at it, and sidled as quickly as possible at this angle to Harry's side. He had pushed himself up to a sitting position on the floor by this time.

She only said, "Harry, dear," before they heard heavy thunking - running sounds approaching the room. She stood between Harry and the doorway, but Harry was on his feet and positioning himself in front of her before they both heard Ron's familiar, "MUM! Harry!" At these words Harry moved to his clothing once he realized who was approaching.

"Harry, how did you move so-" But before she could finish her sentence, Ron entered the room.

"Bloody heliopaths! Mum, did you...?" Ron quickly surveyed the destruction.

"The door's my work. Harry took care of the attackers." Turning to Harry, she said, "I'm so sorry I trusted them, Harry. I can't imagine what I was thinking..."

Harry grimaced as he replied, "It's okay, it's okay, Mrs. Weasley; you couldn't have known. Besides, Dobby got that one," he said and pointed.

Ron approached the third attacker slowly, looked at the shattered skull, and checked for a pulse anyway. "He's dead."

Molly moved quickly and confirmed Ron's pronouncement. She grabbed her son by the arm and manhandled him around so she could look at both the young mens' faces. "Listen very carefully. We'll tell everyone that Harry did all of this. If word gets out that Dobby's killed a human, he'll be instantly put down like a rabid dog. That's the law - he's not inside his master's house. So, you did it, Harry. You two understand?"

Both nodded. They heard thuds and looked to see Dobby bashing his head with a candlestick. Harry grabbed the candlestick in a lightning fast move. He said, "Dobby, I told you no self-inflicted punishment. You did exactly what I wanted you to do." The house-elf obeyed instantly; he had a slightly dazed but grateful look on his face.

They heard shouts from familiar voices. Tonks entered, followed by Mad-Eye Moody. Moody's magical eye revolved twice around the room. He said, "It's safe in here. I'll stand guard outside."

Before anyone could say anything, Moody announced from outside, "Dumbledore's in the corridor."

The headmaster entered and Tonks excused herself. There was little room in there with all of the destruction, bodies, and other occupants.

The professor looked around and asked no questions. He just knew. "Ron. Please help Harry finish dressing. We must leave immediately." He looked at the faces of the three on the floor. "I know these two, they're both Death Eaters, so I assume she is also. Apparently St. Mungo's is not safe for you, Harry, under these conditions. You and I will leave as soon as you're able. Dobby will be safe here for at least a few minutes. You're the target, Harry, not him."

Once again the professor had answered a question before Harry had thought to ask it.

"Molly, please help Dobby up and see to him. Have him go to Hogwarts when he's able."

Dumbledore whisked Harry away from St. Mungo's at an amazing pace for a man his age. First, they Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, and as they walked hurriedly out of the fireplace, Harry didn't fall as usual, because the Professor walked out right behind him and caught his arm.

"Professor! Harry! May I be of-" Tom tried to offer.

The professor waved Tom back and said, "I'm sorry we cannot partake of your kindnesses, Tom; maybe next time..."

Dumbledore had not stopped walking as he spoke. He pushed Harry through the back door to the wall leading towards Diagon Alley. Then he used his wand to move two large, full dustbins in place to block the doorway from the tavern.

"They'll remove themselves in one minute's time, Harry. I'll just make a Portkey to go to my office-" Dumbledore stopped in mid sentence. "How do you feel, physically, Harry, rested or weak?"

Harry thought for a second, mostly about the incongruity of the question. "I dunno." He flexed his shoulders and said, "Rested actually. I was asleep for several hours, so..." He shrugged and took a deep breath, then stood upright with a look of confidence. Though the headmaster was five inches taller than Harry, it was as though they looked each other directly in the eyes. "What do you want to do, Professor?"

"Nothing too taxing, I assure you. I know you don't like to Floo or use a Portkey. You've Apparated successfully twice now, taking someone with you this last time - something basically impossible. Your arrival was almost dead on accurate the first time, and I am told you appeared in the exact center of the grand salon at Grimmauld Place on your second attempt. Do you think you could Apparate to the front gates of Hogwarts?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. Then a smile creased his face. Apparation was like flying in a way. In spite of the panic of landing on the mantel at the Grangers' home, and splinching himself to Dobby, he'd admitted to himself that he liked Apparation. He'd felt clearheaded and ready for action after doing it both times, regardless of the other factors.

"I think I'd like that, Professor. What do I want to focus on?"

"Just imagine, er, rather, to use your words, just focus on looking at the main gate entrance. Look at it like you're just back from the archway." After several seconds Dumbledore said, "Can you see it clearly, in focus?"

When Harry nodded the headmaster said, "You go first and I'll follow."

Dumbledore watched Harry close his eyes and concentrate. He developed a look of determination, and then an odd sound, not quite a crack, announced that Harry had left the area. It was actually quieter than most of the sounds made by those taking their Apparation tests, but there was an unfamiliar sharpness to the pop, dissimilar to the typical Disapparation noises.

Dumbledore said, "Remarkable." He Apparated nearly silently, and said again as he stared at his pupil standing right in front of the main gate archway, "Simply remarkable." He'd appeared right beside Harry at the exact distance apart as they'd stood together behind the Leaky Cauldron. "How do you feel, Harry? Tired, disoriented, a little nauseous? Those are all common Apparation symptoms for those new to it."

The lad shook his head in the negative. "No, none of those. I don't really feel any different from before. A little excited maybe. I like Apparating." Harry smiled like he did when he opened a present. Then a look of concern crossed his face. "Will I get in trouble...?"

"I doubt anyone would suspect you and me of breaking the Underage Magic laws. But let's go inside. Voldemort might think to send someone up here."

They walked just a few feet inside the gates. Dumbledore stopped, drew his wand, and conjured two brooms. "They are not Firebolts, but they'll take us to the doors of the school much faster than walking."

Harry was prepared for a slow stately broom ride, but Dumbledore leaned forward like a racer and sped along much faster than Harry had imagined possible. The elder wizard had the form of a Quidditch player. As they landed, Harry said, "Very good, sir."

"I was a Gryffindor Chaser for three years in... well never mind when it was."

In a few minutes they were in Dumbledore's office.

"Harry. I must leave you here to inspect the wards around the school and the grounds. That will only take twenty minutes at most. Then I must arrange a safe refuge for you for the rest of the summer. I don't know when you'll spend the two additional days needed with your aunt, but Remus received her permission for you to be away for two weeks. We have time to solve that dilemma, but you must be in a place where you will be untouchable and untraceable."

"I guess I need a sanctuary," Harry said. "St. Simons Parish is a sanctuary and it's connected to Hogwarts somehow, isn't it?"

Harry thought back to his discussions with Remus regarding Father Martin. Lupin had also told him a little bit about the parish properties itself.

Almost as in a lecture Lupin began, "Harry, have you ever heard of the word 'sanctuary?'"

The lad thought for just a moment and replied, "Muggles have bird sanctuaries and safe places for wildlife and such."

"Safety is the key idea there, Harry. Those animals are protected from harm by law. Sanctuary originated with the actual building, almost always a church, or sometimes a synagogue. It was not only considered sacred, it was a place of refuge, a place where one was exempt from pursuit. Those on the run from the law were not seized and prosecuted if they were in a sanctuary. The intent was that the innocent, somehow incorrectly accused by the law, might find help there. The truly guilty usually found the holy men and women in a sanctuary too much to be exposed to for very long. The church building or synagogue became a haven, a protected area of last resort. Throughout the many centuries, those who have violated sanctuary have been considered anathema and outcasts of society. Although, I am sad to say that synagogues as sanctuaries were abused fairly regularly.

"That's a Muggle understanding of sanctuary. There are those in the church, non-magical and magical believers, who maintain that a higher power backs up that protection. They don't call it 'magic' so I honor their views on that matter. But St. Simons Parish, the buildings and the grounds, are a sanctuary that is said to be as powerfully protected as Hogwarts is with its many wards and Disillusionments. And St. Simon's is little known and often forgotten in the magical world."

Returning from his memory, Harry said to his headmaster, "Remus told me what a sanctuary was when he told me about St. Simons."

Dumbledore looked slightly surprised, but only for a moment. "Excellent idea, Harry. I've not seen Father Martin for years. He often goes on a retreat sometime in the summer months, but I believe it is later in the summer, nearer to September. I'll try to contact him before I return, so I don't know when I'll be back.

"Harry, it is unlikely that we have a security problem here at Hogwarts, but I must ask you to stay in this office while I'm gone. Talk to the portraits, or examine any book that catches your eye on the shelves. You may even use the telescope. That window is not large, but several interesting constellations are in view this time of year in that exact direction. I should not be too long. Oh, and I will have the required Paladin Program late night snack sent up to you as soon as possible."

Dumbledore swept out of the room and the door shut and locked. Harry figured he was as restricted to this office as he had been a few weeks ago on the night Sirius had died. Harry felt a small degree of anger for being confined, but the concern on the professor's face made Harry realize that there was probably just cause to lock him in - just like there probably had been that night.

Several of the portraits greeted him by name; he'd spent more total time in this office than any student had in several hundred years - including his dad and Sirius. Phineas Nigellus' portrait remained unoccupied.

Harry paced the room scowling at everything and nothing. In a minute the snack appeared on a sideboard. Harry picked at it but only nibbled at one of the pieces of fruit. Then he wolfed down the required snack as he'd committed to do.

Patience had never been a virtue in ready supply for him, so each minute moved by like ten, until he was convinced the headmaster was long overdue. One glance at the clock showed that only eleven minutes had passed. Harry threw himself into a chair and slowly released a long frustrated sigh.

"He was like that too."

The words came from sharply on his right; one of the former headmistresses looked down from her portrait. The other portraits were looking her way as she gazed at Harry.

Harry said, "Pardon? Who was like what?"

"Young Percival was like you, no patience, until a month or two into his sixth year. He took the Acceleration potions also."

"Percy Weasley? But I thought the Paladin Program hadn't been--"

"No, no, Harry. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. His father went by the name Albus, Albus Aberforth Alexander Aloyious Dumbledore. Percival went by his second name until his father died the summer after his fourth year. At the start of his fifth year he insisted that everyone call him by his and his father's first name - Albus.

"But I'm being rude. I am Professor Gertruda Drinkwater. I was headmistress when Albus, as you know him, and his older brother Aberforth were students here at Hogwarts. And I know you're Harry Potter. You've certainly been discussed within these walls often enough." She sighed and said, "And you've been in here often enough for all of us to know you quite well. Fighting the Basilisk in your second year is my favorite Harry Potter adventure." Several of those in portraits nodded in agreement and mumbled to themselves about that story. Everyone on the walls gave up their pretense of sleeping, and opened their eyes, leaning forward to listen to the conversation.

"Er, pleased to meet you." The hint of confusion in Harry's voice to cause the good-natured, elderly witch in the portrait to giggle almost like a schoolgirl. She had one of the kindest faces displayed on the walls of the room, and Harry smiled back at her without any hesitation.

"As I was saying Harry, young Percival - oh, I must call him Albus with you. Although, I was the only one he didn't correct when I still called him Percival. Albus seemed to be quite impatient through most of his school days. He was always going full speed with his broom straws on fire. With his long legs his friends had to run to keep up with him when going to classes."

She laughed at this and Harry had no problem imagining a tall thin Albus Dumbeldore striding through Hogwarts with several Colin Creevey types running at his heels like small dogs.

"So, what happened to make him so patient now, Professor?"

"Life brings many opportunities to learn that virtue, and the Acceleration potions back then required a lot from him just to take them - they were rather painful at the time. But before his sixth year, in particular, two things changed Per- Albus. Aberforth's disaster and shame with the goat was one. Aberforth was several years older than Albus, and had an idea to make an animal that could fight Vampires alongside wizards like hunting dogs have fought beside Muggles in some of their wars. Goats are very intelligent, and the idea had merit, but Aberforth's impatience in his seventh year caused him to go ahead with his experiments without official Ministry approval. He combined his brilliance in Potions and Transfiguration to make a... well, a monster that hid in the Forbidden Forest, and came out at all of the wrong times, to rampage about the school grounds and Quidditch pitch.

"His goat-monster was huge, over ten feet high and nearly twenty feet long. It could Apparate and make itself invisible. Aberforth was expelled shortly before his N.E.W.T.s. There was talk about time in Azkaban, but there were no laws on the books to make such animal experimentations punishable. There are now."

Professor Drinkwater looked pensive or wistful for a moment. Harry couldn't tell which. She sighed a little bit and continued.

"Many thought that their father died of a broken heart because of this. After his father's death, Albus returned for his fifth year a new student, so to speak. He wasn't really patient yet, but he would stop to think a bit more. He'd always been a gifted student who didn't study enough to fully exploit his gifts. He'd have been prefect if he'd tried harder earlier. But that September of his fifth year Albus declared to the whole school during the Welcoming Feast that he would only answer to the name Albus. The next few days had the school staff buzzing about how prepared he was for every class. His academic performance that year was nearly flawless. Do you know he was the first student to receive an Outstanding Plus on an O.W.L? Oh, and Albus was so proud of your O Plus in Defense. Talked of little else that afternoon when he arrived back here, he did."

Harry blushed, then he asked a question to move the subject off of his grades, "He got his in Transfiguration. Madame Marchbanks told me with my O.W.L. letter results. Aberforth's goat, wasn't it?"

"Correct in one, Harry." She giggled again and covered her mouth for a moment this time. "It was a most fortuitous turn of events. Just as his Transfiguration Practical neared its end, the goat rampaged through the front doors, which had been cracked open for the breeze. It was unseasonably hot that Spring. Albus immediately Transfigured two tables into small dogs and sent them after the goat. They were small enough for the goat-monster to watch them but not Apparate away or go invisible. Albus was able to launch a string of spells and charms compressed into one blast that made that monstrosity unable to remove itself from sight - as well as begin the transformation back. The hideous creature bellowed and ran from the entryway. It went outside and we ran after it. After several explosions, much smoke and fire, and the sounding of a gong, which I never quite understood, there remained outside the front doors an unconscious, but otherwise unharmed standard sized goat.

"The examiners were suitably impressed, young Griselda Marchbanks was his personal examiner, and his grades reflected his accomplishment. His sixth year was as stellar as his fifth, which was all the more praiseworthy considering how painful the Acceleration potions were in that first administration. His performance that year led him to become the first Head Boy at Hogwarts to have not been a prefect. I had to stare down the entire Board of Governors to see the rules changed, but it was worth it. Your father achieved that also, you know."

Before Harry could respond in any manner other than a grin, Drinkwater's image continued, "Albus performed admirably in that last Vampire war, and of course you know about his fight against Grindelwald."

"Uh, no." Harry had always been curious about that fight.

Drinkwater looked a bit cross. "Albus still has Binns teaching History." When Harry nodded, she continued, "He wasn't that good a teacher when he was alive. I inherited him and was able to get him off of Goblin Wars on occasions. But as a ghost... he's intractable." The former headmistress shook her head and let out a breath with a disgusted sound attached to it.

"Well, it started in 1936... no, better back up to the first Muggle World War..."

"Now, Professor Drinkwater." Harry was startled. Dumbeldore had entered the office silently, as he entered most rooms, and stopped the narrative.

"Oh, Percival, you call all the other former heads by their first names, even Armando, can't you call me Gertruda?"

"Madam, I count your friendship one of the most cherished I have from the walls of this office, but you will always be my headmistress. Therefore, you shall forever be just a little more revered by me."

"Why, Percival," Harry saw the pictured Drinkwater blush and look down. "You always did have a silver tongue, even more charming than that young rogue, Sirius Black, and Harry's father, James."

The legendary twinkle showed once again in his headmaster's eyes, and Harry wondered for the first time, but not the last, how that twinkle might have devastated the hearts of young witches over a hundred years before.

"I thank all of you for entertaining Harry while I was gone-"

A very fat former headmaster with overstated silver and green trim on his robes broke in, "'Twas all Gerdie. Talking on and on about you and that goat. Hasn't talked about any other subject but you since you became head. 'Percival and the goat. Percival and Grindelwald.' Least ways she finally started calling you by your desired name with Potter here-"

"And thank you for your observations, Ichabod. As delightful as all of this is, I must leave you and see to Harry's security and accommodations. Come, Harry."

They left the office, and before Harry could ask further about the fight with Grindelwald, Dumbledore spoke. "You'll be delighted to know that Dobby was waiting for me when I walked out of my office when we first arrived. House-elves have amazing recuperative powers. I believe it comes from punishing themselves so much - a fact you might not want to share with Miss Granger." Before Harry could agree, Dumbledore continued.

"I instructed Dobby to Apparated to your room at your aunt and uncle's, engaged a Silencing spell, and he should be finished transferring your possessions, equipment, and everything else you need to your new residence for the summer before we arrive. We'll make some changes to your accommodations and activities, well, I'll tell you about that in the morning. There are still thirty days or so to go, and I assume you still want to be in the Paladin Program?"

"Now more than ever, I guess, Professor. Am I staying here at Hogwarts?" Harry finally noticed that they had not used the fireplace in the headmaster's office, and they were not heading towards the front doors or the dormitories. They were about to reach the corridor containing the Room of Requirement.

"No, Harry. There are too many activities going on here this summer, and I want you able to be as safe as you would have been at your aunt's. You'll have your visits with the young ladies here, and take your Potions tutorials here... Maybe some other things - we'll see. However, we will set traps for intruders in Gryffindor Tower, now that I think about it, so stay away from there. No, you'll spend most of your time at St. Simon's Parish, as you suggested."

Harry had anticipated the Room of Requirement, but Dumbledore walked past that section of the wall without a glance. At the end of the corridor, which was a dead end, there stood a lonely glass fronted and shelved case with nothing in it.

They stopped in front of it and Dumbledore spoke, "You know, Harry how a Secret-Keeper protects the hiding place in a Fidelius Charm, well this is similar - and different.

"The sanctuary protection for St. Simon's dates back to before the war that occurred when Salazar Slytherin left Hogwarts. Today, any student who wishes to attend services there knows of this entrance. Attendees of those services see only a small portion of its structure and grounds, and few of its buildings. Muggles only see a swamp.

"Most of the rest of St. Simon's Parish is available, even visible, only to those in need of the sanctuary provided by all of the property and grounds.

"At all times I can give access to the main church building for religious observances, but Father Martin only just now allowed me to grant access to the place you'll be staying this summer. I cannot stress how important, nor do I know all of the reasons why it is essential to keep this a secret."

Harry imagined a cloistered room, smaller than his room on Privet Drive, something with damp stonewalls and floors in a medieval monastery. But, he would have access to his training room and kitchen somehow, so it couldn't be all bad or uncomfortable.

Dumbledore tapped him on the head with his wand, and said, "Templum Editum Abstrudo." The clear glass and empty case transformed into a doorway about five and a half feet tall.

"You can now see this as a portal between Hogwarts and St. Simon's, but not as our students see it who attend services there. They go to a small office off of the main foyer of the church proper. You will arrive in a similar room in the cloistery. You cannot take anyone, anyone with you through this entrance. It is best that you not even tell your friends where you will be for the next few weeks. Blame me for asking you to keep it secret if it will help. You'll be able to meet them here and see them at headquarters. But, Harry, there are many reasons why you should never speak of this to anyone. Most of them are secrets of the millennia, and have nothing to do with you. You place more than yourself in danger if you even hint at this aspect of St. Simon's.

"Perhaps you can say you are staying in a small unused professor's room. Students cannot go there in Hogwarts, so your friends will not press you."

The headmaster opened the empty case/now door, and there appeared to be a passageway roughly cut in stone that was even smaller than the doorway. There was no light.

"Just take a step or two in, Harry, and you will see your way. Watch your head, people were much shorter over a thousand years ago."

Harry ducked down and proceeded forward. One step and the amount of light cut in half. Another step placed him in nearly complete darkness. Another step and Harry fell forward into a well-lit room with a small fireplace and several comfortable chairs. There had been a deeper than usual step into the room causing Harry to go down.

His Seeker reflexes, even faster after the potions and exercise of this summer, allowed him to catch himself easily as he neared the floor. It was covered with a thick rug. A strong gentle hand grabbed his arm and helped him stand. While he rose, Harry looked to his right and noticed that whoever was assisting him wore a medium gray robe. He stood and continued to look up, his eyes getting wider as he kept looking up and up to see the face of the one beside him.

Harry eventually looked into the crinkly, kindly, perhaps even jovial pale green eyes of a man just one inch shy of seven feet tall.

"Hello, Harry. Albus always forgets to tell students that the last step is an ankle-breaker, and that one's worse than the one in the church service's entry. Welcome to St. Simon's Parish. I'm Father William Martin. Has anyone ever told you that you look just like your father, but with your mother's eyes?"

_________________________________

In one minute, Aberration Day would be over, and the four Hogwarts staff members gathered in the headmaster's office were united in their wish for it to have ended even sooner. As they waited for Dumbledore, none of them looked at any of the others. Though it seemed like days since that afternoon in the potions laboratory, it had been less than twelve hours. Since that time they had contacted by Floo the parent or guardian responsible for each student or small student group participating in the Paladin Program of the rising sixth years.

Even though the two were not visiting together that afternoon, Rebecca Bones, Susan's mother, accounted for her daughter and Justin Finch-Fletchley, since Justin's parents were Muggles. Trent Boots called in regarding his son, Terry and several other Ravenclaws in the program. Madam Jesmenda Patil actually walked through the Floo fireplace to discuss matters regarding her charges - her twin daughters and Dean Thomas. Madam Patil wanted to know exactly what she should tell Dean's Muggle parents.

It had taken hours, but all parents, guardians, or adults in any way helping to guide the young Paladins through this summer had reported in and were fully briefed in turn. The four present only waited for the headmaster to give their reports and attempt to advise him about the next steps.

Dumbledore walked into the office just as the last chime of midnight pealed from the clock above the fireplace.

"Good evening, my friends, and let me start by thanking you for your efforts of the last half day. You've been working tirelessly this past month, and now, today has caused your efforts to be redoubled. I cannot fully express my gratitude."

Professors McGonagall and Snape were not unfamiliar with this type of praise from their employer, and they humbly accepted it. But Professor Sinistra and Argus Filch had not received this level of gratitude from Dumbledore in their years of service with him.

It is not that Dumbledore did not express his appreciation for his staff's hard work; he sincerely complimented any accomplishment - staff or student. But there was something about the depth of feeling and warmth in his gaze this evening that tendered his warmest regard to each one present, far beyond the few words he spoke. The moment refreshed each one there, and confirmed that they were on a mission of importance.

"Now, what results do you have to report from your conversations with those helping our young Paladins?"

The three professors looked at each other, and by mutual yet unspoken consent, they replied from their left to right.

The Astronomy instructor started. "Professor... Albus, almost everyone I spoke to seemed to give a similar report. With only one exception, the students visiting together only kissed for nearly an hour. Each pair were discovered within a few minutes either way of the end of the time period - within the acceptable range of variance for ending their sessions. Each parent or guardian said that it took an effort to break them apart, but not more than in the very first visits. Each pair wanted to, er, move back together, but were back in control within a minute or two." With this last word she looked to her right.

Professor McGonagall reported, "I've heard only one report that differs from that exact finding. Mrs. Longbottom was a bit upset. She was not aware that this program was going on in this manner. Her brother-in-law, Algie, had signed the papers, and she was not aware of the full scope of the Paladin Program. I walked through the Floo and spent nearly an hour with her. Augusta is calm now, and has agreed to allow the program to continue in her home as it has, but I would expect her to, shall we say, express her full opinion, the next time she sees you, Albus. I know she has made her feelings known to Neville's great-uncle."

The Transfiguration Professor continued, "Neville and his visitor were the one exception I heard about. Miss Lovegood was visiting the Longbottom estate, and she accidentally walked into the room where the visit was occurring. She stopped them a few minutes after the period began. She got them up on the exercise equipment at hand and made them talk and exercise at the same time. After they were set in their individual machines, Miss Lovegood fastened their hands to the devices with a sticking charm and left them for the rest of the session to talk and work off their... well, their urges. Augusta Longbottom would not have known about it had she not walked by at the exact moment for the session to end, when Miss Lovegood re-entered the room to release them."

Artemis Sinistra added, "Mrs. Weasley gave a similar report. She and the Grangers found Hermione and Ron in like circumstances only minutes after they'd started kissing. The two were parted and confined so they could end the session talking. That was interrupted. I believe you will tell us about the events regarding Mr. Potter. Oh, and Molly actually hung Ron upside down by his feet from the ceiling for a while."

The headmaster chuckled at this, and genuinely smiled without reservation for the first time in hours. "Yes, Molly told me briefly about this at St. Mungo's earlier this evening."

Sinistra continued, "Headmaster, I believe I am not the only one to believed a courtship of sorts possible between Ron and Hermione, they way they argued pyrotechnically on occasions. I normally would not mention such things, but it seems clear based on Mrs. Weasley's comments that these two are frantically worried about Harry, and for some reason Hermione had asked Molly to relay to me that she and Ron are not dating and have decided that is not an interest for either of them. I still might not mention this except Hermione was at Mrs. Weasley's side during this Floo call almost rudely making sure I understood this. I report this because it is so out of character for Hermione. She's usually so polite."

Severus Snape said, "Headmaster, Out of character or not, Weasley and Granger dating announcements or denials are not pertinent to this issue. I have no different report to offer outside of the common report for the majority of the students." The Potions master's eyes narrowed, bringing his eyebrows closely together in his scowling face. "What happened with Potter?" He used the name like it had an actual bitter taste. "We've heard at least part of the story."

All joy disappeared from Dumbledore's face, but a small amount of stubborn pride showed itself to those who knew him well. "While all of his fellow students were kissing, or at least wishing to kiss, Harry fought a progressive battle over several blocks of Little Whinging. Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement officers report finding nine wounded, four trussed, and eight dead Death Eaters within less than three tenths of a mile of Arabella Figg's former home."

"Former...?"

"Yes. The Death Eaters destroyed it with a vengeance. Miss Weasley escaped by Floo mere moments before Death Eaters destroyed the fireplace. There was nothing left of the house above a foot or two off of the ground. Aurors captured one Death Eater using an extraction spell to rip the pipes out of the ground. From the incomplete eye witness reports, we believe there were over forty Death Eaters involved, probably many more, Apparating on the site in major waves."

"Who fought them? How many casualties on our...?"

"Artemis," Dumbledore continued, a look of fierce pride and great concern on his face. "Several Death Eaters who were captured believed there had to be at least four or five Aurors in the center of the battle, but only Harry Potter faced their attack."

"But, but...." The Astronomy professor knew Potter had a reputation as a good fighter, but she'd not been privy to the discussions leading up to the inception of the Paladin Program. She'd only offered to help when her plans to visit Madagascar had fallen through. She'd also read the reports about Potter in the Daily and Evening Prophets and in the Quibbler, but had done so with a doubtful eye.

Snape dripped sarcastically, "The Boy Who Lived does it again. All hail the conquering hero. Why don't..."

"Severus." The headmaster's voice was even, but firm. "Could you have fought forty Death Eaters and survived?" After a moment, the headmaster continued. "Harry entered Arabella's house, and when there was no escape for her, Harry summoned his house-elf, attempted to combine their two Apparation powers - Arabella Figg is a Squib, Artemis, if you don't know. Supposedly Harry drew Apparation power from Dobby and Apparated all three of them to safety."

" But... all of that is... it's im-possible..."

"Potter tends to specialize in the impossible, Artemis," McGonagall said with pride. "Everything good you've read or heard about the boy is true, I dare say."

In an acidic tone Snape interjected, "Before we open the latest meeting of the Harry Potter Fan Club, might I remind you that he did not in any way complete his visit with a young lady today. I'll prepare the Termination Potion for him for tomorrow. He must drop out..."

"That is premature, Severus." Dumbledore said, holding his hand up to stop Professor McGonagall from charging into the verbal battle.

"Perhaps the Program can be saved, but Potter-"

"Tomorrow, Severus, we will administer the next potion in the series to all sixth year participants - on schedule. We will randomly test six groups at a time with the Analytics Devices to see where the students stand, and determine on a case-by-case basis who, if anyone, should be given the Termination Potion.

"I've called in Remus Lupin, and Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and Jiggers to help do the testing with different groups. Tomorrow the young Paladins receive doses at two different times, I believe. In seventy-two hours or so, we, those four and Minerva and Artemis, will have been able to test each member on the sixth year Acceleration potions. Severus, you and I will remain here to act as a quick response team for any adverse reactions. Poppy Pomfrey will be able to join us by mid-morning at the latest.

"When Minerva was in school and took these potions, the seventh years received a slightly tainted dose. They were watched closely, and none were affected adversely in the long run. It may be wise to prepare a cauldron of Termination Potion just in case, but we will not administer it unless I say so."

His words were obviously spoken in a manner to brook no discussion.

With a smile on his face, Dumbledore said, "Now, we must all get some sleep before mixing the first batch of Accelerator in the morning. I am sorry you need to spend the next four hours on the Termination Potion, Severus. Might I be of assistance, or even do it for you?"

Snape's pride would not allow his headmaster to do his work for him.

As they all rose to go their separate ways, Dumbledore kept back Minerva McGonagall for a moment.

"I persuaded Harry to loan us his marvelous map. Would you be so kind as to Transfigure or Charm something to watch the map to alert us to the presence of the certain someone we discussed earlier?"

"Albus, if he comes here why not just capture him, he's killed enough-"

"He must report back, if we are going to allow Harry any movement away from his present location."

"I'd feel safer if Potter stays wherever you have him until September first."

"And then, Minerva, we would find him gone in two weeks or less. We cannot restrict him to solitary confinement, which is how he would view his pleasant but lonely present surroundings in a matter of days, if we told him he must stay there until September first. He is still a teenager."

Pursing her lips when she could find no argument against what Dumbledore had said, McGonagall blurted out, "And I cannot believe you've let him keep this map all this time. You do realize how much trouble he could have gotten into-"

"Yes, Minerva, on too many occasions he has wandered the corridors after hours and gotten food from the kitchen outside of meal times. But do you realize how many times he has solved a crisis in some part by consulting this map?"

She flung out her last desperate argument. "You spoil the boy, Albus."

"Yes. Perhaps I should more often."

The headmaster smiled blandly as he observed Minerva McGonagall's lips purse thinner than he'd ever seen them before.

______________________________

The next morning Albus Dumbledore had just sent out the last person going into the field to observe student reactions to the latest dose of potions. They each carried a magical/medical Analytics Device - wizard patent pending - to determine what, if any, adverse effects had accrued from ingesting the tainted Acceleration potion the day before. Professor Sprout wanted one additional demonstration of how to record the data from the device.

The headmaster expected no one to have any adverse response to today's potion, because of the reasons he'd given his four staff members the night before.

The fourth attendee of the meeting the previous night, the one who had not spoken, was not going out by Floo today, because Squibs can't travel by Floo. Argus Filch was proving to be even more invaluable during this program. He usually knew instantly how to accomplish in some simple manner, whatever crisis of the moment needed a quick solution. Filch had a feel for magic and a feel for magic. He had not only observed a huge variety of magical activities over his decades of service to Hogwarts, he had the recently discovered Squib's Sense for magic. He'd always felt magic occur all around him and could discern magic's ebbs and flows, tastes and smells. No one had ever spoken of being able to make such tactile observations of magic, but Filch had proven himself 'magical' in his abilities to use such sensory elucidations to actually defend the castle and some of its occupants.

As she worked with the others supporting the Paladin Program, Professor Sinistra had been surprised to find the confidence placed in the caretaker by Dumbledore, McGonagall, and especially Severus Snape. Because of the traumatic events in her own life during the first war with Voldemort, Artemis Sinistra had hidden at Hogwarts and ignored all around her - teaching Astronomy needed no awareness of current events. She was the only Hogwarts professor to have never mentioned to Harry anything about his past, or look at his scar after his first day in her classroom.

Each day this summer had revealed to her more and more about past and present activities of the Order of the Phoenix, and the battles waged by those not in the Ministry of Magic. She had almost decided to officially seek Order membership, beyond just helping in small ways.

More often than not, it was Argus Filch who explained in detail how she should accomplish many of what she considered her menial assignments this summer. Amazingly, after the caretaker's explanations, she realized that there were no small tasks given by Dumbledore - everything needed to be done or it was not assigned.

On this bright and sunny day, Argus Filch stood sweeping in the potions lab. Professors Dumbledore and Snape were preparing the parchments to record the findings from the day's analysis, and discussing where the deciding lines should be for inclusion or exclusion of students adversely affected by the potions from the previous day.

Filch croaked incoherently, and the other two in the lab looked his way. He said, "Breach... not a threat..." and sunk to his knees, barely holding himself up with the broom.

Dobby Apparated into the room. His left arm was attached at his hip instead of his shoulder. He'd weakened himself quite a bit assisting Harry the day before. Dobby had been instructed that even house-elves would have problems moving directly between St. Simon's and Hogwarts. He should go halfway between them, rest for a minute or two, and continue to the other. Apparently he'd not followed that rule this morning.

"Dobby!" said Dumbledore. "You've splinched-"

Dobby interrupted, "HARRY POTTER SIR IS HURTING - IS VOMITING - IS WORSE! Forget Dobby! PLLEEAASSSEEE GO HELP HARRY POTTER SIR!"

Dobby raised his right hand to snap his fingers. Dumbledore grabbed his hand and prevented it. The headmaster spoke quickly. "Harry wouldn't want you hurt any more. We'll go immediately, but promise you will walk to see Madam Pomfrey."

"Dobby promises. PLEASE hurry, Sir!"

Snape had been gathering everything he could think of and turned to Dumbledore. "Shall we Portkey?"

"We can't Portkey there. But it is only two minutes away if we run."

Snape knew of nowhere that you couldn't Portkey, but he stopped wondering about this when he realized that the man over a hundred years his senior was easily outrunning him.

The Potions master had never considered attending any church services - he'd sneer at the idea, but he was aware that the school maintained some sort of connection to a religious facility of some nature.

While observing the manner of exit and entry, Snape wondered how there could be no Portkey access. Then he experienced the light-darkness-light of traveling to St. Simon's. He fell on his face at the step, causing his nose to bleed a bit but not breaking it. Dumbledore stepped over him and did not even ask as to his condition, but ran even faster towards the shouts.

"Down here! Hurry!"

Snape entered the door, and started down the steps as he looked about the room. It was circular and about fifty-five to sixty feet in diameter. All of the equipment of a Paladin Workout facility was there as well as bedroom furniture. Also around the room he could see a study area with small library, and a kitchen and table for eating.

In the eating area, on the floor, the Potions professor saw a huge man in gray robes holding Potter in his lap. Potter was face down and shaking as if having some sort of seizure. There was evidence of the young man having vomited a good deal of food and other stomach content on the floor near his head.

Dumbledore knelt down to examine Harry and Father Martin said, "I gave him a bezoar, and he barely improved. What villainy resists a bezoar, Albus?"

"Severus-"

"I'll administer the Termination potion, headmaster-"

"No, that may poison him further. Please hand me your Analytics Device. William, please hold him on your lap for one more minute."

Dumbledore aimed the device at Harry and adjusted the many knobs. He tapped his wand on it twice during the proceedings. Finally, a bell rang, which surprised Snape - such a sound was not one of the indicators they had discussed when Dumbledore had trained the others on the device that morning. A small piece of parchment covered with runes flew out of the top of the instrument.

Dumbledore examined it for less than ten seconds as said, "Just as I had suspected, Termination potion would have killed him. As it is we need to get him to the hospital wing-"

"Professor-"

"Yes, correct, Severus. William, let's lift Harry off of you." The big man moved Harry as one would a wee child. "Severus, please check the kitchen cabinets and find vinegar, soda powder, and two glasses of water."

"The lad's had enough Albus, can't we-"

"He's not safe yet, William. All this will do is give him a sore throat for a few days at most. Most of it he's ejected or he'd be dead by now."

To the Potions master he said, "Severus, place a teaspoon of soda in one glass of water, stir it, and hand it to me. Then place two teaspoons of vinegar in the other."

The headmaster gently placed the first glass to Harry's lips and coaxed him to drink about half of it. What had appeared to be a fit or seizure had lessened to shivers, proving it had not been any sort of seizure.

"Harry, this is going to hurt when it comes back up, but you MUST drink from each glass quickly, as much as possible, but quickly - at least half of the first glass, then as much as possible of the second before you vomit."

The lad nodded briefly, giving the only indication that he was aware of his surroundings or condition. He swiftly drank about half the glass, grabbed the second and started to down it, but interrupted it to project more stomach content several feet away from him. After there was nothing left to eject, Harry experienced the dry heaves through several more retches.

Dumbledore took him in his arms. "You're safe; you're safe now. I am sorry. Harry, I never considered that this would be the outcome. You've done it once again - the impossible. But you'll be all right now. Sleep for as long as you can. Someone will be with you. Your throat will hurt until I can get something from Poppy, but you're out of the woods. Life will be much easier now, I promise. You've done well, lad, very well indeed. I'm very proud of you."

The headmaster sat there for five minutes humming a tuneless melody, rocking the grown lad in his arms. Then he nodded to Father Martin who helped him put Harry on his side on his bed. Snape stood there speechless and confused the whole time. The three men walked far enough away to whisper and not wake the Harry. The man in monastic robes dwarfed the other two.

"William, can you sit with him until I find someone-"

"I'll stay with him all day. Albus, if need be. I've no commitment until evening vespers."

"It won't take that long, old friend, I will have someone here in a few hours. If my hunch is right, we can move him where there is easier care for him by nightfall, but he still needs his room here if that still suits you, William."

"Headmaster-" Snape tried to ask one of his multitudinous questions.

"Please forgive me, gentlemen. Severus, this is Father William Martin of the Grey Friars, and parish priest of St. Simon's Parish."

Snape raised one eyebrow with this revelation. The Grey Friars were considered by some to be mythical, or at least extinct - a religious order of celibate contemplatives considered very powerful, regardless of whether they were Muggle or magical.

"And this, William, is my Potions master, Professor Severus Snape."

"I've heard much about you, Professor Snape, I've consulted with many of your students."

"Do you tutor in potions, Father?"

"No, I've counseled them not to try to kill you, Professor." As the younger professor swallowed and frowned, the Anglican priest chuckled and said, "It's not that bad, Severus. I just couldn't resist." Turning, he said, "Albus, what's wrong with the lad?"

"Nothing is wrong, William, he had the very predictable reaction any fully grown male would if he took the Acceleration potion designed for a fifteen year old."

Somehow, Severus Snape just knew that Harry Potter had done it to him again, and he had no idea what it was that he'd done.

________________________________

At the end of the first day after Aberration Day, twelve Analytics Devices reports and the accompanying parchment rune read-outs all confirmed so far that no one would have to drop out of the Paladin Program. The four students involved in the situations where they did not spend the hour kissing checked out fine - but a bit thrown back to the time when they were more tempted at the start of the visit to go for each other. The other ten groups studied this day, where they did nothing but kiss in that aberrant session, showed no adverse affects either. However, all of them seemed to be back at the start of needing to learn to curb their desires to rush into a 'visit' kissing.

It was determined that these students would have constant supervision for at least the starting five to ten minutes of each visit, and those monitoring these visits would listen in and look in regularly. There was only one month to go for the program as it was, and all monitors understood that this was important to the future of wizardkind.

Harry Potter would be dropped from the potions altogether - his records marked 'completed.' He'd registered on the Analytics Device as an eighteen year old in all ways, even though the next day would be his sixteenth birthday. He would be monitored for a few days, but Dumbledore and a much disgruntled Severus Snape felt that he no longer needed any physiological growth to participate in the Auror Training parts of this Autumn's class schedule.

However, no amount of questions or discussion could indicate to anyone where Harry was emotionally. He seemed fine. He said that he was fine. So, of course that could mean anything.

Just as Dumbledore stood from his desk to go to dinner, Minerva McGonagall's head called from the fireplace, asking him to come to her office. The headmaster complied and dusted himself off as he walked to her desk.

"He's here, Albus, just as you supposed. I wish you let me transform and chase him down. A Gryffindor as a Death Eater, indeed."

"Pull back your claws, please, Minerva. Hopefully today he will serve our purposes."

For well over an hour that particularly odious rodent with a silver paw traversed the corridors and walls and loose floorboards of Hogwarts. He checked every dormitory and each unoccupied professor's quarters, looking for evidence of one Harry Potter.

Mrs. Norris almost caught the rat, but he had previously outsmarted that gifted cat for nearly three years, and was able to do so again. Finally he made his way to the edge of the forest and began to move at a speed that indicated he'd Transfigured back to a man.

"Please reestablish your... what did you transfigure to watch this map?"

"A pair of old reading glasses, Albus. I gave it a Portkey to trip over to carry it to me if it needed to report any unwarranted visitor. It was able to constantly monitor the entire map around the clock with no rest."

"Always so practical, Minerva. I might have chosen my old Victrola to play an aria as loudly as possible should it see anything."

Before she could respond, there were three knocks, then a pause and one more. Minerva McGonagall called, "Come."

"I noticed that... er, excuse me, professors." Argus Filch shuffled in with a tray on his left hand held like a waiter might at a restaurant. He turned red-faced and looked around like he wished he could vanish into a wall crack at this moment.

Dumbledore turned from whispering, "mischief managed," and folding the old piece of parchment so it would disappear into his robes. "Argus, I have kept Professor McGonagall occupied through the dinner hour. How thoughtful of you to bring that tray to her. She and I have been discussing possible places for a small Animagus Death Eater to enter Hogwarts unannounced. Why don't the two of you take a walk around the castle and see what can be done to eliminate these chinks in our armor - after you eat, of course, Minerva. Good night. Good night, Argus."

The door closed and the sound of Dumbledore whistling faded down the corridor. The tune sounded something like "Love is a Many-Splendored Thing."

When the whistling could no longer be heard, the red-faced caretaker turned to the professor. "I'm sorry, Min. You didn't want anyone..."

"Argus," she placed her cool hand on his left arm; it felt anything but cool. "Never doubt that Albus knew minutes after we did." None of her students would have believed the smile on her face. "What did you bring me from dinner, Argus?"

___________________________

Dear Penny,

I should have written this long before now, it has been nearly
five weeks. A lot has been happening but that's no excuse.

Ron was my first friend; he is my dearest friend, and Percy might
have told you about the second task in the Triwizards
Tournament. All that being said, I cannot guess what his
reaction will be to Percy coming back. Oh, Ron will be mad, but
will it be one explosion? Will it be a quick hex to express his
displeasure, and then all's forgiven? Or will he hold a long-term
grudge? I can clearly see all three happening.

The twins will definitely prank Percy unmercifully, but if Percy
takes it like any of the other Weasleys would - laugh and prank
them back - the terrible duo will probably come around.

I don't know Charlie or Bill well enough, but I would have Percy
write Bill from the 'big brother I need your help' approach. I
think he will be furious also - let's face it, Weasleys all have
tempers - but Bill can put aside his anger to help a family
member. And Bill is probably closest to Charlie.

You two might also consider talking to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley
first. Have Percy paper airplane his dad at work and invite
both parents to dinner. Tell them it's a secret. Have Percy
pour out his heart - you help him pour out his heart. I doubt he's
much better at it than Ron, unless he's drunk, as you wrote earlier.
Mrs. Weasley wants Percy back badly, and I believe Mr. Weasley
does too, but he will be a bit stern about it at first.

It's also very important to get Ginny on your side. I truly believe
she knows her brothers better than anyone, and has a history of
getting her way with them, by gentle persuasion or a battery of

hexes and jinxes I don't want to think about, much less experience.

Go for the parents first. Then ask them to help get you to Ginny.
Next, write Bill. Those four will help you with the other four.

For my part, well I'm a little unavailable right now, but I'm
putting another letter in with this one for you to use if you
have to.

Best wishes for your success,

Harry

The next letter read:

Dear Family,

You've all called me family, and you can't imagine how much
that means to me. But more important - you may not know what
it means to you.

I never had a family that I remember. You taught me what
family love is. Perhaps, not having it for so long makes me
appreciate it more than you do. I mean no insult in saying this.

Enough of the orphan sob story. I love you all more than I can
ever express - that's the big thing for me.

One other member of "my" Weasley family knows how bad it is
to not have the Weasley family love - Percy. He has changed.
I don't know this firsthand, but Penny Clearwater took him back,
and she has convinced me that he has changed and regrets his
actions more than he can express. Now he wants to express his
regrets to each of you.

Perhaps his appreciation of the Weasley family love is greater
than mine. I never had it, but then received it. He had it and
then lost it. Losing the love you give me scares me more than
facing Voldemort.

I've always enjoyed how you lot could always argue and yell and
fight, and still love each other. But only a large crowd would
ever fight a Weasley if there were others of you nearby. If I've
upset any of you with this letter, well, I apologize. I'll face your
wrath for the good of one you love and despise at the moment.
Hex away.

Your adopted son and brother,

Harry

______________________________

Harry had made a concerted effort all summer long to clear his mind and attempt to put up as much of an Occlumency shield as he could muster to protect his sleep. He'd had bad dreams, but nothing that anyone who'd seen death at close hand wouldn't experience. Except for the dream about attacking the Grangers, (which was Harry seeing into Riddle's mind, not the reverse of that) Harry had experienced no other incursion into his mind by Voldemort - yet.

This late morning, while he slept off the ravaging effects of his system rejecting most of the potion he'd ingested, and after surviving Dumbledore's makeshift purgative, Harry had had no mental preparation and no shielding at all while he slept. Plus, this morning he was dreaming about the battle he'd participated in the previous afternoon. Eight people were dead, he'd heard, but seven of those eight had been those hit by boulders, barrier rocks, overturned automobiles, or the like. They'd been far away from his line of sight, and strangers to him.

But Harry had known Marcus Flint after a fashion. He'd not known Flint well, and he'd not liked him, but he had known him. His death was up close and personal. Harry would remember his few hoarse screams and the horrid look on his burning face, forever. Flint didn't deserve to die in a blazing fireball, but this was war, a war Harry did not choose, but a war he had to fight. Marcus chose to kill or die, and Harry had made his choice. Harry had needed to save himself to save all of his friends. Had he anything in his digestive tract at all, he'd have awakened and lost it. Instead, his mind was almost completely open to attack.

It started with a cold, cold laugh. Next came a word of congratulations.

"Splendid work, Potter. Any of my Death Eaters you can kill deserve to die. They are too weak to live as my servants if your pathetic efforts, refusing to use the Killing Curse, can take them. What utter fools.

"Join me, Potter, finding your justification for Flint's death is too much effort. Join me and we'll rule together. I'll even give you the lives of your friends, even that old fool, Dumbledore. Serve me, they'll serve you, and it will protect them. If not, I'll hunt them down one by one and end their lives in slow- What? What's this? NO- - "

Harry heard the sounds that had been indistinguishable in the background until just that second. It was a strong but kindly voice Harry heard calling his name and chastising Voldemort.

"Leave, you foul demon of hell. This one is not destined for your recruitment. He makes his own choices.

There was another voice - a voice calling him from outside the dream. It was the same protective voice though. "Harry. Harry, do you hear me? Come to my voice and wake up. He's gone, at least for now. Wake up...

"...Harry. Wake up, Harry. Ah, there you are. Here, eat this bit of chocolate. It's Honeydukes Dark Chocolate. I prefer it, and they send a large batch to me each month."

It was Father Martin. Harry had started screaming moments after Voldemort had entered his mind. The huge man was kneeling by Harry and supporting him to sit up so he could eat the sweet.

"Fath-, Uhm. Father Martin. Are you an Occlumens; I mean Legilimens? Did you enter my mind-?"

"No, Harry, well, yes I am both of those, but I didn't enter your mind or that evil creature's. I used my preferred method of battle. How are you feeling? Do you want to go back to sleep, or are you too awake for that now? He shouldn't bother your sleep again this day if you want..."

"No, sir, oh, Father, er..."

"You can call me 'Father,' or 'Sir,' or just 'William.' That's what my friends call me, and I hope we can be friends. Your parents eventually called me by my given name. I'd really prefer you start with it if you like, but many see my robes and feel they can't."

Harry blinked several times. The big man had placed his glasses on his face just as Harry had opened his eyes. He saw the man clearly, but he was so huge it was unsettling.

Hagrid had been Harry's first adult friend, which was different than his friendships with Ron and Hermione. The gentle half-giant was well over two feet taller than Father Martin and much wider. But Hagrid was Hagrid, so in Harry's thinking, Father Martin was the biggest person he'd ever seen.

"Uhm... William, erm, how did you... I mean, if you didn't use...?"

"Harry, it's a long story. But St. Simon's isn't just a church parish, there is a monastery on the grounds. We're actually in the basement of that monastery. It's a devoted life of prayer for over twenty years that helped me break through to you and drive out Voldemort." The priest used that name with no more fear than he used Harry's own. "Prayer can be a weapon to stop evil."

"But you're a wizard also, aren't you? Remus, Remus Lupin told me that you went to Hogwarts in the thirties..."

"Yes, Harry, I'm a pretty good wizard, and an Occlumens and Legilimens if you'll allow my lack of modesty. But fighting evil is not only the task of wizardkind. The most effective person of prayer in the monastery is Brother Lawrence. He's a Muggle, but he's so much more disciplined than I am in his prayer walk. I'm just a young pup, really in this. You'd be amazed... but, Harry, this conversation is too much now. And before you get angry with me - Remus and Albus have both told me of your temper when people don't tell you what you want to know.

"But do you remember your first year at Hogwarts? If you'd tried to cast a Patronus Charm then, when you couldn't even levitate your feather, how successful do you think you'd have been trying the Patronus? A life of contemplation and prayer can have a power of it's own, and it fights evil in a very different way than you have in your battles. But there can be a more direct confrontation between one who prays and such evil, as you just experienced.

It is very different from your experiences, and I am talking on a level far too complicated to go further. Imagine trying to understand the most advanced text on Arithmancy if you've never even heard of the subject. If you're really interested, we can start with the basic concepts needed before beginning the habit of praying, but first I think I should help you with Occlumency. That you can use right away in this fight you face, and you are far enough along in your magical training to put it into effect immediately.

Harry nodded agreement and Father Martin asked, "First, please tell me about yesterday."

Harry knew he needed to talk this one out. He'd not discussed the battle at the Department of Mysteries with anyone. Perhaps this time he would get it off of his chest right away - see how that worked.

He just started at the beginning, even telling about Fudge's personal Aurors attacking him. Just over ten minutes later, Father Martin stopped nodding at appropriate moments at the end of the tale, and just stared at Harry for a moment.

"Your life has been hard, and now this. I'm sorry there's nothing I can do to change things, but I will pray for you."

"Er, thank you." Harry thought that this was something Father Martin might do at bedtime, but instead he closed his eyes, and silently began to pray. Harry did not know what to do, so he just closed his eyes.

It might have been moments or hours, but the prayer probably lasted about five minutes. Father Martin said, "Amen," and Harry felt much better. He still had killed eight Death Eaters the day before. Harry still had to face Voldemort some day. He still did not know what the vomiting that morning had meant. But Harry felt like there was some unexplainable hope for him. And he'd take that for now.

"Do you feel like eating anything, Harry?"

"I... I am hungry, but I'm on a special diet-"

"Not any more, Albus told me you can eat anything you want, whenever you want. How about eggs and bangers? It's about all I can do, or I can get my cook, Mrs. Ferguson to fix something."

"Eggs," Harry said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He must be out of the Paladin Program he thought, if he didn't have to maintain the strict diet any more.

Just as the eggs disappeared from his plate, Harry looked up to see Dumbledore walk into the basement room with Dobby following closely behind. The house-elf ran to Harry and nearly knocked him breathless with a sincere hug.

"Harry Potter SIR is safe, is all well, but Harry Potter SIR is off the schedule." Dobby snapped his fingers and the journal appeared, opened to the correct page evidently. "Harry Potter SIR is to be eating a steak and kidney pie with three loaded baked potatoes in twenty-two minutes along with-"

"Dobby," Dumbledore interrupted, "Harry doesn't need to maintain the diet schedule any more. Nor does he need the potions or the visits on schedule, although, Harry, I hope you will meet with some of the young ladies to keep them on their schedules."

"Yes, sir," Harry said dejectedly.

Dobby ran to the stove and took a heavy boiler from the top. He immediately began hitting himself in the head with it. Harry was there in a flash and grabbed the pot. They tussled while the priest looked on in shock and professor, in amusement.

"Dobby, I told you to never punish yourself-"

"But, Harry Potter SIR is failed the Paladin Program and is Dobby's fault. Sir must give Dobby clothes." The house-elf said the last sentence tearfully.

Dumbledore interjected, "No, Dobby, Harry has not failed. He has completed the program, or at least the Acceleration potions part. He became sick this morning because, by some manner, yesterday he completed all of the growth and physical maturation processes. The testing shows that he is physically an eighteen year old. I am proud of you, Dobby, I've never seen such loyalty and fine service from a house-elf in all my years. You helped rescue Harry yesterday, somehow, we're still not sure how it happened, but regardless, your Harry Potter SIR has a house-elf that should be the envy of all owners of house-elves."

Dobby's eyes got bigger than Harry had ever seen. He started to turn a bright pink and blew up like a small fireworks display. Dumbledore and Martin were startled and started to stand but Harry held up his hands to stop them.

In less than three seconds Dobby rematerialized in the smoke and Harry said, "Dobby, could you fix us some light refreshments, whatever you want to fix, and fix whatever your favorite treat is for yourself, okay?"

"Harry Potter SIR is the most kindest and most bravest and most wonderful-"

"Dobby."

"Yes, sir, Harry Potter SIR. Dobby is gushing again." Dobby snapped his fingers, off to probably fix a banquet, for a light snack.

"Albus," Father Martin said, "I've never seen such a bond between a house-elf and master."

Harry blushed and Dumbledore responded, "Dobby is an unusual house-elf; Harry is an unusual master. It is a fine tale for Harry to tell you, if you can extract the story of his second year out of him."

The headmaster turned to Harry and said, "So congratulations, you've amazed me again - doing the impossible and coming out in better shape than before going in. No more potions or special foods, although you should continue eating healthy foods and keep at the exercise, that will not end September first, only become a part of everything else. And I do need you, Harry, to keep visiting with the young ladies, for their own good, and maybe for yours. The Analytics Device does not measure emotional development. But then, our emotions never stop growing. And I find that keeping company with the fairer sex is always delightful, even though to this day, I am not sure I understand them.

"There is one more thing the Analytics Device told us - you do not need to go back to the Dursleys any more this summer. That has apparently been covered so to speak, in this rapid maturation process." Dumbledore stopped as if trying to make a decision. "It is too early to tell, we'll know in January I suppose, but you may not have to go back there next summer at all, if this is fulfilled completely. There is a fifty-fifty chance you're finished with that also. Fifty-fifty mind you, don't get too set on not going there."

As that subject ended, Father Martin said, "Albus, Harry and I have been talking. Would you allow me to teach him Occlumency? I know I am not as experienced with teaching it as you, but..."

"William, asking you to do so was on my list today. But why...?" He turned to Harry with alarm. "Did you have another dream?"

"Yes, sir. I've had bad dreams all summer long, but Tom hasn't been in contact since the Grangers - of course I just saw that. He didn't know I did or he'd have called it off." Harry shook his head to himself. "So this is the first time he's come after me since the... that afternoon dream when..."

The headmaster started speaking, hoping it would keep Harry off of the death of Sirius. "William, old friend, if you're amenable, I think I will let Harry tell you anything and everything he wants to, when he wants to." The Grey Friar nodded in agreement and the headmaster turned. "Harry, you will not have such a strict schedule now that you are not tied to exact times for the potions, meals, and exercise. I still need you to visit if you will, as I've said. Having you unavailable has made the schedule tight today. Ron had to Portkey to Northumberland. Once we have all of the security in place, you can go to Hogwarts and be with your friends more easily, and visit with other young ladies of your acquaintance. One of the benefits you've not been able to experience so far this summer, is that many of our Paladins have become friends or better friends with those they've visited with. Already being such good friends with Miss Granger and Miss Weasley..."

"I can still visit with Hermione can't I? Er, and Ginny too..." Harry blurted this out, and he almost missed the rest of what Dumbledore said as he pondered just how much his female best friend meant to him, even though he though she was dating his male best friend.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled but Harry was too busy fighting confusion and a blush to notice. "Yes, Harry, you will 'visit' with Hermione from time to time, however, with easier access to Hogwarts and no requirements as to staying with your aunt, you will be able to spend non-Paladin 'visit' time with your friends more easily.

"Miss Granger comes from Grimmauld Place four or five times a week I believe, she helps tutor some students raising their grade levels to the point to enter the required N.E.W.T.s classes for Paladins in the autumn. She also goes to the library, which I'm sure is no surprise to you."

With this comment Harry enjoyed Dumbledore's eye-twinkle, and the headmaster delighted to hear Harry's chuckle. "Many Paladins come to Hogwarts to run around the lake as a part of their exercise regimen, and some use the Defense classrooms to practice some of their spell work. It is most gratifying to hear a member of your DA explain how to cast a particular Defensive spell. You've trained them not only how to perform these pieces of magic, but they also can teach. And not just the two young Weasleys, Miss Granger. and Mr. Longbottom. I've overheard Miss Bones, Miss Brown, and Mr. Boot effectively helping a classmate with their spell work."

Before Harry could make any comment throwing off on his contribution, Dumbledore changed the conversation direction. "Harry, I'd like you to continue with your Potions tutorial, but now you can do it at Hogwarts. We need to keep everyone from knowing you come to the school on any sort of regular basis, but we can probably make it look very random. Many of your fellow Paladins who are pulling up their grades are coming to Hogwarts during the day for some, if not all of their tuition as I have implied, so you can slip in easily.

"Soon, possibly today, we will have the security precautions in place and will have diverted attention away from Hogwarts as your place of residence. Then you can travel there carefully. The diversions and subterfuges are the key, so I cannot promise when. Surely a few days at most will see you able to move about more than you have been all summer."

It was the perfect time for an interruption. "Mr. Harry Potter SIR, 'tis all right to serve, sir?"

"Hungry, gentlemen? I have a feeling this will be quite a 'snack.'"

With the nod of their heads, Dobby snapped his fingers and the table, able to seat four comfortably and six with a little crowding, groaned under the weight of the food that appeared there.

All of Harry's favorites that Dobby had cataloged over the years were displayed. The three ate heartily, and followed Harry's lead in noisily applauding Dobby's efforts. It wasn't hard to do; everything was excellent.

Harry asked Dobby to join them, but the house-elf reminded him that he could not eat at the same table as his master.

"Can you eat at the same times as I do, if you are nearby to serve me if I call?"

"Yes, sir, Harry Potter SIR."

Harry drew his wand and casually conjured a table, chair, table cloth and eating utensils just the size for Dobby. The house-elf smiled and batted his eyes.

Father Martin said, "Harry, that's very sophisticated charm work there for someone starting his sixth year. Albus, has teaching magic advanced that far from when I was his age?"

The headmaster's eyes merely twinkled. After a silent moment, Harry said, "Uhm, I never was taught that. I've seen and heard similar conjuring before, but I just did what made sense. I don't know..."

The parish priest said, "Never mind. It's not important. I've heard you are beyond your years; you've just proven it."

During lunch, with much coaxing from Dumbledore and Martin, Harry related how he'd met and eventually gained the services of Dobby, and then briefly went over his lack of success with Professor Snape and Occlumency lessons. But in the back of his mind, Harry could not stop thinking about the conjured table and chair. Even though he'd made an O in Charms on his O.W.L.s, he'd never considered himself advanced in Charms, just good in his year's skill level. He wondered how he'd done that bit of magic.

_________________________________

Harry's birthday was a small affair. The afternoon before, the rat Peter Pettigrew made his reconnaissance of Hogwarts. That evening Dumbledore told Harry and Father Martin about their subterfuges and the party the next day.

Harry traveled from the fireplace in Dumbledore's office to twelve, Grimmauld Place in the early afternoon to have a one-hour program 'visit' with Hermione - then the party would occur so Harry could be back in his safe house, as they were calling it, before nightfall. For Hermione, their 'visit' was a replay of their first time together under the potion's influence. She slipped by her father and this time Harry grabbed her wrists and held her in place before her father could take her. She reacted like all the rest of her fellow sixth year Paladin participants - they were back at the starting point in terms of personal control, and all of the professors, parents, and guardians were glad there would be only one more month before the start of school to calm them all down.

However, with Hermione that day, and on every other program visit he made with a young lady that summer, Harry acted like an adult supervising the visit, instead of only participating. He was off of the potions and now merely an observer - though not like Ginny Weasley. Harry was on the other side of the age equation - older than his various visit partners.

The fact that she rushed at Harry lips first and Harry had not, mortified Hermione. Harry tried to explain to her how he was not on the potions anymore, so he wouldn't react this way. Even explaining how the aberrant potion had set her back at the starting point, as it did all of her fellow Paladins, did not mollify her. She knew all of this in her head, but her pride and desire to be in control betrayed her.

Harry was a bit flustered by Hermione's surge of emotions, but he was also Hermione's friend. He helped her go through the usual questions and discussion ideas for a visit, but even in the hyper-rational part of her hour with him, she could not stop blushing about her actions earlier, regardless of how hard Harry tried to explain why he was unaffected. She fully understood in her mind, but not in her emotions. It had been all right when they both were compelled by their urges. But this was differently embarrassing to her.

She also couldn't stop asking Harry how he was doing. Over and over she kept asking about him in hardly different ways. Harry's patience with her made this even more unbearable.

After a break of nearly a ten minutes, Harry's birthday party took place. The three Grangers, Molly, Ron, and Ginny Weasley, and Remus Lupin were there the whole time. Tonks tripped in for about thirty minutes and gave Harry a complete bound set of Aurors' Training Manuals. Madam Bones, the department head for Magical Law Enforcement herself had called Tonks and suggested the gift, as well as made a contribution. Several Aurors such as Kingsley Shacklebolt gave money towards the set, but the surprise was that Dawlish and the toupee wearing Williamson also contributed.

Mad-Eye Moody popped in and gave Harry a handheld Foe Glass. Dumbledore sent Harry a copy of a very old book about combining spells for rapid use. It was a hand-written codex produced in 1269 in difficult to understand Middle English, but the headmaster had also given him what looked like a magnifying glass, but instead of enlargement, it made middle-to-modern English translations.

Unique to his birthday this year, the Weasleys and Remus Lupin had inheritance money to spend on Harry. Remus gave him a hardcase for his Firebolt that kept it warm even during winter. Ron gave Harry an expensive pair of Omnioculars that had extended recording capabilities and split screen viewing so he could monitor current play and watch a replay at the same time.

Mr. Weasley sent his regrets about not being able to attend because of work, but Mrs. Weasley gave him a new knitted Weasley summer weight short-sleeved jumper with a stag on it in Gryffindor colors - and - she and her husband gave Harry five new pairs of jeans in various shades of blue, and ten new tee shirts and collared three button tennis shirts. They also gave him two new pairs of trainers - one black pair, and the other in white with dark blue trim.

Hermione gave Harry a book of sorts, but a photo album rather that any instructional book. She had contacted Colin Creevey two weeks earlier, and commissioned Colin to make copies of most of the better photos he'd recorded over the years of Harry and his friends. Hermione had sent Colin a magical accordion-style album that she'd charmed. It was less than an inch thick but could hold over three hundred different photos. Not wanting to slow the party, the four friends decided to look at all of the pictures together later. Harry promised to share the book with anyone present who might be interested.

Ginny gave Harry an instant release arm holster for his wand. It attached to his right arm, his wand arm, and it was charmed to only release when Harry wanted his wand - right into his right hand, ready to cast any bit of magic needed. It was also charmed to help resist the Expelliarmus spell, and was Disillusioned to be invisible when Harry wore a short-sleeved shirt.

Molly Weasley had given Ginny the money she'd needed, but hadn't inquired about the actual gift. She started to scold her daughter when Harry interrupted. "You and I have discussed this, Ginny, how I want to be able to draw my wand quicker, and be able to hold onto it better in a fight. Thank you. I really like it. I've thought about going to Ollivanders for one just like this. It's great. It would have made things easier the other day." That comment was a small bomb ticking so all could hear.

"It's our turn, Harry." Ted Granger stepped up hoping to change the subject with their gift. Madge was right beside him.

Almost all of the Grangers' assets were still frozen, as the wizard solicitors Dumbledore had forced Fudge to hire, tried to untangle the legal/financial mess stemming from the falsely placed evidence of a methamphetamine lab in the dentists' destroyed office. Though their income had halted and they had no access to their savings, they had no real expenses. Harry had nearly pitched a fit when they tried to refuse him the chance to play their host at Grimmauld Place. Though the Order had control of the house for the duration of the war, Dumbledore wisely let Harry handle this. Hermione's parents reluctantly accepted, and accepted that they would pay no board either, but they insisted on helping out where they could around the house. However, soon they were making small contributions in Galleons to the general household operating fund. They were being paid a small stipend out of Hogwarts funds for their part-time work with the Paladin program.

All except Moody were surprised when Ted and Madge Granger gave Harry a knife and arm sheath. Hermione's father said, "It's the identical Fairbairn design as mine, but it's made with the new low carbon steel that remains shiny. So of course I had them blacken it for stealth purposes. The bright, sharpened edges look wicked though, don't they? The sheath's just like mine and goes on your arm so you can draw the blade with the opposite hand, but it can also attach to a belt if you choose. I asked Moody, and he placed a Disillusionment charm on it also, so you can wear it hidden from sight like your wand holster. I'll give you knife-fighting lessons with it if you'd like."

Harry wholeheartedly wanted the lessons and said so, but he was not unaware of the barely hidden disapproval of Molly Weasley, or of Hermione. "But Dad, Harry doesn't want to kill-"

"I'm already a killer." Harry said matter-of-factly. He spoke near a whisper, and the sound of it was deafening. "That's eight so far, nine if you count Professor Quirrel, and there'll be more, I'm afraid to say." The sentence was so emotionless, so much like an announcement of the weather conditions, that everyone was stunned to silence.

With steely resolve in his voice Harry continued, "I don't like it, but I didn't start this. If someone tries to murder me or any of you, or anyone who's innocent, well, I'll try to stop them, subdue them with magic. But..." Harry sighed sadly and said with even more determination, "...if I have to kill them, so be it. Anything you can teach me, Mr. Granger, I'd be grateful."

Hermione inhaled sharply and covered her gaping mouth. Ron swallowed loudly. Remus hung his head. Tonks looked on appraisingly. The Grangers were straight faced but determined, because they understood better than many of the magical folk present Harry's decision.

Molly Weasley said, "Harry, dear..."

At that moment relief came in the form of Fred and George barging in and setting off a room sized fireworks display. They just walked through the Floo and thunked a box about the size of a shoebox on the table and one of them tapped it with a wand. The fireworks shot into the air about four feet high, and covered an area about four feet by six feet over the surface of the table. The pint-sized extravaganza ended with the fireworks spelling out 'Happy Birthday, Harry' with miniature horned-tailed dragons flying through and around the opening in letters such as the 'p's' and the 'B' and 'd.'

Molly had taken the distraction as a time to further change the subject by bringing out the cake.

Fred said, "It's our first commercial product to come out of our new lab from our research into miniaturization. We liked a Muggle term we heard a while back so we're calling our lab, the SkunkWorks. Don't know why they wanted to name such research places after a harmless little furry woodland creature, d'you, George?"

"No idea, my most handsome brother, but Ginny's proven big surprises can come from little packages."

"Are you comparing me to a skunk?" Ginny said, mostly with amusement, while pulling her wand. The twins cringed slightly and moved away.

Harry smiled and laughed with his friends. But he also caught the eye of Ted Granger, and nodded in appreciation.

Ron asked, "So where is your new, er, SkunkWorks, fellows?"

"Sounds dangerous," said their mother.

"Safest place in the world, Mother dearest. Hogwarts."

~*~

"Harry, might I have a moment of your time?"

Professor Dumbledore had entered the room right after Harry had opened the presents. He'd been sociable as usual, but not as long as was his practice, even when there was other business to attend to.

"Of course, Professor."

"Alastor, Nymphadora, Remus - Ted, you may want to join us also."

Harry barely glanced at each of his friends his age as he left the room, but by that time he felt sure he knew what would be discussed, by who had been included.

They all walked to the library. The door was closed and silence charmed, but no one placed an Imperturbable charm on the room.

"Harry, the captured Death Eaters told us a chaotic, piecemeal, but remarkable story of your fight." Dumbledore reached into his robes and pulled out his Pensieve as a Muggle magician might put a rabbit out of his hat. Harry noticed Ted Granger was impressed, but no one else. "May we view your memories of the battle?"

Harry sighed, lowered his eyes to his hands, but nodded. He felt sure this had to do with setting Marcus Flint on fire. He figured he might as well get over the initial shock and disgust these he admired would have for his callous treatment of a former schoolmate.

Without asking for assistance, Harry took out his wand, closed his eyes for a moment, and placed the wand to his temple, drawing out the silvery-stranded memories. Dumbledore had the slightest look of surprise on his face, but Harry didn't notice. Several others did.

"We won't enter the Pensieve, Harry. I won't ask you relive this that closely. But we will see it played out above the Pensieve, all right with you? You don't have to watch if..."

"No, Professor. You might have questions." Harry said in a matter-of-fact manner, but with the slightest resignation in his voice.

The scene started with Harry walking down the street and looking into the alleyway where the dementors had attacked him and Dudley.

When Dawlish showed himself, Moody cleared his throat. Harry saw a look of fury on his face. When they watched Williamson shoot a spell at him, Tonks muttered quietly, "I'll kill him."

When it was over, Dumbledore lowered his pocket watch. "Do you mind answering questions, Harry?"

The young man shook his head.

Remus asked, "Where did you learn those spells?"

"Some are from the Defense book you and Sirius gave me last Christmas." Then Harry turned to Dumbledore. "But I have been reading through all of the books in my small study library you've provided me, Professor."

The headmaster said, "Harry, the In Hostes Sagitta Quniquiplico! spell - how did you quintuple the Arrow-Shooting Curse? And I don't recognize some of the others at all."

"Also, Dobby told me at the start of the summer holidays that I am the heir of Telemachus Grind - it's not as glamorous as being the heir of Gryffindor or even Slytherin, but we can't all be related to the founders. Anyway, Dobby gave me Grind's journal. Apparently I am Grind's heir because the journal was written in house-elvish, yet I can read it somehow, sorta like the way I can speak parseltongue, I guess, only this doesn't come from Voldemort. "

There were several gasps, both as Harry said "Telemachus Grind" and "Voldemort" out loud. Shacklebolt muttered, "Telemachus the Vile."

Harry stared at the group with a withering look. "I know Spell Mongering has a bad reputation, but that's wrong. I've mongered more useful spells in the last month than the Arithmantic Spell Crafters have created in a hundred years."

All except Ted Granger were is various stages of shock. Ted had a look of confusion on his face.

Harry continued, "I've never studied Arithmancy or Runes, but Hermione told me about the basics of spell creation. It's rather confusing, but spell mongering is simple enough. I didn't have to train for decades to produce some pretty useful magic."

Mad-Eye, Remus, and Kingsley all moved to speak at once. Their faces indicated they were alarmed by Harry's declaration. Tonks was still in shock it appeared, and Ted looked like he couldn't decide which of a dozen questions to ask first. Dumbledore raised his hand and stilled them all.

"Harry, after Tom Riddle's diary in your second year I think you'd not just read any old journal and start in--"

"I didn't, Professor. I read every book at Hogwarts on the subject, all two of them, but they were all incorrect and contradicted themselves. I read the seven books in the library that mention Spell Mongery, and I have cataloged how they are wrong, not from Grind's work, but from other works unrelated to Mongering.

Then I took every basic idea from my ancestor's journal and researched it independently. I have started my own journal with my research notes. Every concept Grind discusses, every technique he used or developed is used somewhere else in our magic without being questioned as to Dark or Light. I even read a Muggle science book about energy and matter. It gave me some good ideas. Mongery uses no blood magic. It doesn't use necromancy or takeover someone's will or conscience. Spell Mongering is like a wand, it can be used to heal or kill. It's the intent of the wizard or witch, not the wand.

"Um, Harry, when did you start reading so much, and where'd you read about such research techniques?" Remus asked.

Harry grinned. "I used the basic techniques Nicholas Flamel and Professor Dumbledore used to document their research into the uses of dragon's blood." He looked cheekily at the headmaster, who couldn't help but smile back at his student. "As to the reading, Professor Dumbledore gave me a Muggle speed reading book. It turns out that I didn't like to read because I read too slowly. I now read almost three times as fast as I did a month ago, and my mind doesn't get bored or wander off subject. Therefore, I comprehend things quicker and retain more of what I read."

Tonks snorted and said, "His vocabulary's improved also." Harry half smiled, half blushed at her.

Harry continued, "I've had about five visits a week with female Paladin candidates. I exercise at least the minimum amount of time required by the Paladin schedule, but usually I double that. My aunt and uncle have stopped asking me to do work around the house in fear of you lot. I talk to Dobby and Hedwig, but basically I read. I read and try the magic I read about, eight, sometime ten hours a day. Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, Potions, and believe it or not, some history - Muggle and magical. My homework's finished and I've read all my books through for this coming year. It still leaves me with several hours a day to work on my Mongering."

Remus said, "Your books?"

"Yes. Since Dobby is bound to me, he can access my vault to make purchases for me. I wrote Gringotts and they have an account for me at Flourish and Blotts, and they have a mail order arrangement with W. H. Smith Co. for Muggle books. Dobby also goes to the Hogwarts library for me and searches the card catalogs for the books for the subjects that interest me. He even re-shelves them for Madam Pince."

Moody said, "I didn't know house-elves can read."

Harry said, "Most folks think they can't, but how can they do what all they do for us without reading? From what I can tell we witches and wizards know nothing about house-elves, but they have powerful magic. What other magical being can Apparate in and around Hogwarts? They're smart also. I can't convince Dobby to stop talking like a semi-literate slave, but I've read his writing, and his grammar's as good as mine. Hermione's going about helping the house-elves all wrong, but she has the right idea. Dobby's becoming a close friend of mine.

Attempting to be diplomatic and turn the subject back to the major concern of Spell Mongering, Dumbledore said, "Harry, let's discuss the specific spells you used. It was an amazing fight. I am sorry you had to go through this, and I am truly glad you survived. I'm also, um, perhaps the word is impressed with what you've created. May we ask some questions about your spell work?" Harry nodded curtly. Dumbledore continued, "What do you call the, um, Depluit Scopulus, was it? The spell that drops the boulders...?"

Harry stared at him for a second and said, "I call it the Boulder Bomb Curse. Is that okay?"

"Fine, Harry," said Dumbledore. "It's yours to name as you wish. It's remarkable how you've pulled such mass out of the air, instead of being in contact with the ground. Er, you mongered the Arrow spell to shoot five instead of just one?" Harry nodded again.

"Harry, how were you able to modify the Battle Barrier Charm so you could cast so many? Usually three or four barriers would completely exhaust a powerful and experienced Auror or Duelist."

"I know," Harry said. " I don't understand why it was created so poorly. Most of the energy needed to cast it is wasted into the air. And the Runes work and Arithmancy is totally unnecessary. I streamlined it quite a lot. I figure my version takes about twenty-two percent of the energy to draw out a barrier." Harry's enthusiasm for his work transformed his attitude from defensive to excited. "I'd be glad to make it available to the Order and the Aurors, only not Dawlish or Williamson."

Moody asked, "How much would you charge?" The retired Auror had obvious mistrust in his voice.

Harry frowned slightly and said, "Moody. It's me. Would you listen to yourself, yourselves? Have I grown a second head or taken the Dark Mark? I mention Spell Mongery and you'd think I was drowning kittens in my back garden. For some reason I can't figure out, I have to sell any mongered spell I create or modify. But I'll sell my improved Battle Barrier Charm for a Galleon a person. Is that worth it, to be able cast that barrier in a fight and not be exhausted by it? I'll even loan you the Galleon if you're short." Harry's earnestness was obvious, and his enthusiasm was hard to resist.

Tonks broke the silence. "Sounds reasonable to me."

Dumbledore said, "There's time for that later. I don't reject your generosity Harry, but we have been raised to distrust Spell Mongery and view it as a Dark Art. I'm not sure it is wise for you to be dabbling in such disreputable activities--"

"Professor." Harry interrupted. His displeasure was evident in his tone and by his expression. "I believe, sir, you aren't listening. Just before you visited with the Dursleys, you didn't listen when I told you how badly I've been treated by them for the past fifteen years. I let that slide then since you were in the process of making my life much better. So far this summer you have keep me a little better informed than in the past, and I am grateful. I hope that the little you've told me means there is little going on affecting me.

"Rather than dismiss what I am saying about Spell Mongery and not listening to me, and instead of assuming I am doing something Dark, how about you and I have a real discussion at some other time, just the two of us. This is something that I obviously know more about than you. Are you willing to learn from a student, or will you ignore what I have to say like Fudge ignored me after the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

Harry sighed and decided to take a different tack. "I've been given a great diet, an odd potion, a place to workout and practice magic without being expelled for it, and a bunch of Defense oriented books. For that I am grateful." Harry's tone turned chilly. "But still, no one has taught me a single thing more about how to defend myself. Had I not taught myself what I did in the last month, had I not Mongered those spells I did, I'd be dead now! Do any of you care to debate that?"

Dumbledore blanched at Harry's words. Others made throaty noises in displeasure. Before anyone else could say anything, Harry took a deep breath and added, "I promise I mean no disrespect, sir, to any of you. I'm a killer now, and that upsets me almost as much as almost dying does. I'll just say one more thing, there has been an eleven hundred year campaign to smear the reputation of Spell Mongers by the Arithmantic Spell Crafters. It reminds me of the way Fudge and the Daily Prophet treated you and me last year, Professor. Do all of you want to assume all this bad hokum about Spell Mongery is true, like so many believed the lies about the professor and me last year?"

Harry spoke calmly and intentionally. The magical folks present were stunned. Dumbledore opened and closed his mouth three times without saying anything. Ted Granger stood back and actually smirked. Harry had rendered all of his seniors, and therefore theoretically his superiors, speechless.

Finally the headmaster sighed. "Forgive me, please, Harry. Not many witches or wizards know much about Spell Mongery, but we here have been told it is always a sign of Dark Magic, and we've been trained to react to stop it.

"You've demonstrated several very effective pieces of magic that you've mongered. I will endeavor to maintain an open mind and meet with you anytime to discuss this. I promise to try to maintain my objectivity. Shall we say two days from now in my office? I have business with the International Confederation of Wizards I must attend to this afternoon and tomorrow." He turned to the rest in the room. "And I ask that each of you reserve judgment until I have this discussion with Harry and report back to you-" Dumbledore realized he'd made another faux pax. "And of course any of you can ask Harry about this on your own. I am sure he will be glad to talk with you also."

"I appreciate this, sir. I'll be glad for you to view my work and help me find any errors, but I think I have this right." Harry turned to look at everyone there. "Just remember, the Spell Monger Osbert Blacwin created Thunderfire. That spell stopped the Vampires from taking over large parts of Europe twelve hundred years ago. I have the notes on that spell."

The conversation at this point came to an odd-feeling stop. Several people shuffled their feet. Harry said, "Unless anyone else has any questions about my fight, I'm going to go spend a little time with my friends."

The headmaster said, "Yes, yes. I daresay we've kept you from them too long. In the mean time you might refrain from Spell Mongery until... Harry?"

Harry had frowned and walked to one of the shelves in the room. All of the silver flatware and goblets had been moved to that room to keep away from Remus Lupin. Harry grabbed two of them and brought them over in front of all of them. "I am afraid, sir, you're still not listening, sir. Maybe this will help."

Harry quickly transfigured the two silver goblets into small stone bowls with lids. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then tapped each bowl twice, casting the charm, " Praeditus Memoriae Tabularium," for each stone bowl. He then held his wand up to his head and obviously drew out a memory. As he placed the point of his wand in the first stone bowl, he cast, "Amplector Memoriola a Dumbledore." Then he placed the lid on the first bowl and cast, "Conglutinare Candela." He them drew another memory and placed it on the second bowl, and repeated the last two charms.

Harry stepped back and said, "You have a busy afternoon planned, sir, and as I said before, I'd like to spend some time with my friends."

"What is all this, Harry?"

"They're low capacity temporary Pensieves. The memory will only remain intact for twenty-four hours or so, after that it will begin to decay. It's keyed only for you to view, sir. Once you break the wax seal, you'll have about five minutes to start the memory. You can't go inside these devices; they only project above the container, and only once. These are two different sets of memories I'd like to ask you to view to help you understand my position and attitude today."

"By the way, each of you, do you think that bit of magic creating temporary Pensieves could be useful? Or do you think it can't be beneficial since a Spell Monger created the magic? Is that Dark Magic. Do you think?"

Dumbledore said, "I promise to look at them this evening. Now, regarding your friends Harry, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley-"

"And Ginny," Harry added quickly.

"And Miss Weasley, if you will. Have you decided whether to tell them of your new found talent or not?"

Harry had turned to look at the door before Dumbledore brought up this matter. Harry said, "I had thought I wouldn't face their misgivings until you and I have reached an understanding. But that appears to be too late." Harry pointed to the unmistakable tells of Extendable Ears under the doorframe. "I'll deal with them, sir, you lot have your discussions about me while I do that. Good day."

When Harry left the room, and the door was closed, re-silenced, and made imperturbable, it was as if a bubble had burst. Tonks sighed and sat down hard on chair. Remus lowered his head into his hands.

Mad-Eye said. "Remarkable, and disturbing."

Dumbledore responded, "Quite."

Ted said, "Washing dishes with magic still amazes me. What exactly was it that was so amazing to you four? And why are you upset? It appears to me that Harry has come up with better and safer ways to survive a fight. Why does this bother you?"

Dumbledore said, "I suppose we should make this two different discussions, Ted. Gentlemen, Tonks, your observations on the actually battle and then the magic Harry used?"

Tonks said, "Remus and I together couldn't have done two-thirds of that total magic. But Spell Mongery...."

Moody said, "In my prime I could have done half that on a very good day. I... I want to believe him. Albus."

"Ted," Remus said, "Those barriers Harry conjured to fight from - in a fight a wizard or witch might drop one or two of those for cover. Or a squad might have one man drop four or five, and then protect him while he recovers. Harry conjured more than twenty before I lost count. As the charm exists, it is a very magically draining and physically exhausting piece of magic to perform. That's why it is rarely used anymore, but it is an effective tool in battle.

"That Fireball spell takes a tremendous amount of magical energy. And to do it wandlessly.... If a witch or wizard can do any wandless or wordless magic at all, it's usually works for smaller, simpler spells and charms. Any one of us here could do a few of the things Harry did that day. But it would take all of us present to perform all of that, and he did it in eight and a half minutes. That doesn't even bring into play that most of those spells take months of hard training to perform correctly. And I've no conception of what it takes to produce that Boulder Bomb curse. It goes against the science of magic as you might think of it, Ted."

Dumbledore said, "Ted, a small subset of magic we perform conjures item out of thin air, so to speak. There is a Muggle science that theorizes that at its most basic level, the building blocks of all energy and matter are the same. Are you familiar with that science?"

"Yes, quantum physics or quantum mechanics. Complex and fascinating subject, but over my head except for the very basics."

"Yes, well, when we transfigure something we use the matter of the item changed to make the transfiguration. It takes energy from us but not that much. Conjuration starts with nothing and causes something to materialize out of nothing. Some of the energy we exert converts to the substance, but we also draw matter from the ground, floor, desktop, or whatever surface the conjured item appears upon.

"That resting place for the conjured item is weakened slightly, but the beauty of magic is that a balancing occurs. Over the next few minutes matter from everything around equalizes, and there is no remaining loss of structural integrity. Many conjured item are weak structurally, and disintegrate in days, hours, or even minutes. Only a truly powerful witch or wizard can conjure something permanent.

Dumbledore continued, "This brings us to the problem we see, Ted, with Harry. A Battle Barrier draws a huge amount of energy from the wizard to conjure such a large and dense mass from the ground to deflect the powerful curses you saw hurled at it. That's why it is so exhausting. Harry says that he has made it more efficient. Assuming he has indeed done so, that would explain in part how he could produce so many barriers and keep fighting.

"On the other hand, his Boulder Bomb Curse has only the air to draw substance from. I examined one of them. They are nowhere as dense as a barrier, but they don't need to be. However, I would have expected dropping one or two boulders to noticeably weaken the caster for at least a few minutes, if one were able to cast it at all. Harry seemed un-phased by his efforts, though he was tired afterwards.

"And this is the rub, Ted. Usually that sort of inordinate increase in power indicates the Dark Arts. Add that notion to the fact that we have all been taught that Spell Mongering is Dark, and you can see why we're bothered and so concerned for Harry."

Ted said, "My daughter's always said that Harry was remarkable in Defense, and that he's a powerful wizard. I've just assumed that was relative to those his age. These Paladin potions are supposed to bring these kids into their full magical maturity. Could it be that Harry was always going to be such a hugely powerful wizard, and now he is? You said that Aberration Day completed his maturation. He doesn't take the potions anymore, right?"

"I've not considered that, Ted." The headmaster paused and then muttered, "Remarkable." After another pause he continued, "The full measure of the aberrant accelerant of that potion that day hit Harry just as he was at war. All of his being was focused on fighting a desperate fight. It called for the utmost battle prowess to survive.

"Harry has not only reached his full physical and magical growth as we hope for all of these Paladins, the Analytic Device identifies him as an eighteen year old, not a sixteen-year-old who's going through the Acceleration potions regimen like it did all the others, or as in his case, gone through the potions. We all believe he'll be powerful, probably extraordinarily so. Now, add to that the burst of super-acceleration from the aberrant potion. Then, if Harry has made those spells more efficient..."

Dumbledore had been talking as much to himself as anyone else at the end of this. He stared off at nothing for a few long moments, and then snapped out of it. "I've done it again. I can't believe myself sometimes. Why do I have to be a dunderhead when dealing with Harry? It's a wonder the boy trusts me at all. And calling him a boy when he is obviously a man now...."

He turned to specifically address those present. "I still want to understand all of this better, but I want all of you to rest easy about Harry as well. I believe he is as he says, creating, or rather mongering magic for useful purposes with no Dark influences."

Dumbledore turned to an unoccupied part of the room and called for Fawkes. The phoenix flashed into the room and landed on the back of a chair. The headmaster conjured a quill, ink and scrap of parchment. He scribbled on it furiously for less than a minute and then walked to his familiar.

"My old friend, please take this to Harry. Stay and visit with him if you like. Thank you." The bird flashed away.

"I've just sent Harry a note of apology for my prejudgments, and I told him I looked forward to our discussions in two days time. Unfortunately I have that matter with the International Confederation to deal with.

~+~

Harry left the library and went back to Hogwarts within ten minutes. His birthday party was long over, and the debris from it had been cleaned. He spent a few moments with his friends, but the time was traumatic. Harry was annoyed that they had listened in. Of course he ignored the fact that together he and they had listened to other supposedly private conversations in like manner. His friends waited for him in the kitchen, and they had all his presents on the table ready for him to Floo to wherever he was staying.

Ron started. "Bloody heliopaths, Harry - Spell Mongery! That's so Dark I'd bet even Malfoy'd-"

Harry was in no mood. He'd wordlessly and wandlessly waved his hand and cast a Silencing spell on him.

Hermione gasped but knew better than to discuss her amazement at the power of that spell. "Honestly, Harry! We're only very concerned about you. Even this lunkhead knows that you've not gone Dark, in spite of speaking with his brain disengaged."

The look of extreme concern on Hermione's face gave Harry pause. He reeled in his temper a good bit. "Hermione, I...well, I don't want to talk about it now. You'll probably read every book at Hogwarts on Spell Mongering, but be forewarned, there's not much, none of them say anything nice about it, and they are wrong for the most part. I need time to think. I need time to figure out how to explain this to you lot and to Dumbledore so you can see it like I do. I just ask you three to trust me with no explanation and no discussion for a few days."

Ginny said, "Ron, if I release you, do you promise not to shout, and to do like Harry says?" Ginny had been given a waiver on under aged magic use to practice with the rest of them. When Ron finally nodded agreement, Ginny cast "Finite Incantatum," but it didn't work. Her second attempt failed as well.

This time Harry drew his wand and cast the same ending spell, which worked. Ron almost spoke but Harry's glare silenced him.

Ginny said, "They've just been so very worried about you, Harry. We all have, but those Ron and Hermione have been in a fright. While you were fighting, these two had that messed up potion causing them to be extremely worried about you. Had you not Apparated here I don't know how bad it would have been for them."

Hermione said, "That's no excuse though. We shouldn't have snooped on you. It's just...." She didn't complete the sentence, but her deep concern calmed Harry a bit more.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You three mean more to me than anything in the world. I'm only asking for a few days before we talk on this again. It's not like my funk last summer; we'll talk soon. I just want to prepare a better explanation."

At that moment Molly called her children from the other room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone for a minute before he Flooed away.

Harry gently touched her arm in a way that drew her closer to him. "Hermione, I'm really grateful for my gift. Everything I received was great, but that album is beyond brilliant. I'd hoped we could look at it together, but..."

In the midst of her confusion about her best friend becoming a self-proclaimed 'killer,' and coolly admitting he was prepared to kill again, in the midst of her aberrant potion caused extreme concern for Harry, and in the midst of her confused feelings for her dark-haired best friend as a Spell Monger and - dare she think it - as a possible boyfriend, she splashed a gleaming smile on her face. "You go ahead, Harry. We'll look at it together soon. I'm glad you liked it." None of her issues about Harry were solved and no future path to clarity appeared, but Hermione felt giddy, unexplainable hope from Harry's few words and warm smile.

Harry shrank his gifts and conjured a bag to carry them. He stepped to the fireplace and said. "I really have to go, er, complication on where I'm staying now. We will speak soon; I promise." A flash of green fire, and then the red of the secure Floo powder, and Harry was gone.

In the headmaster's office, there was a gift from Hagrid, a sack of freshly baked rock cakes, and a variety tin of Honeydukes candies from Professor McGonagall.

Harry slowly walked to the passageway to St. Simons. On the way Fawkes delivered the message from Dumbledore. Harry made his way to his round basement room, where he expanded his gifts and Dobby offered to put everything away.

Over his shoulder Harry heard, "My turn." He looked around and saw Father Martin standing at the entrance landing. Harry nodded when the Anglican priest asked to come in.

"I have a present for you as well. Happy Birthday, Harry."

Harry opened the package and found a small book.

"The blue string marks the beginning of the life of King David, the second king of the nation of Israel who lived almost two thousand years ago. He was a young lad when he was chosen, probably about twelve at that time. He fought a giant when he was a little younger than you are now, and he didn't have magic to help him.

"David fought in wars much of his life, when all he really wanted to do was have a family and love God. He had to fight, but he had a good life, too. And he found great comfort along the way in the midst of his darkest days. The red string marks where it records what David wrote about peace and tranquility,... and fighting,... and forgiveness. You might like to read it sometime. Your dad liked it all, and your mother really like David's writings and songs."

Harry said, "This King David found some peace from his memories of battle?"

"Yes, Harry."

~*~

About a ten minutes later, after Harry had described the party, Father Martin said, "I understand, Harry, that you have a pretty good Patronus Charm, true?"

Harry nodded his head.

"Well, Occlumency is and isn't like that." The big man chuckled at his companion's confused expression. "Let me clear that up a bit. Casting a Patronus, you have to clear your mind of all the confusion there, and any fear coming from a dementor if they're about. It's not easy to do. Then you have to gather a wonderful, vivid memory and make it centermost in your mind, excluding all else."

Harry nodded. He relived his last fight with a dementor for just a moment to make the idea fresh in his mind.

"After all of that, the actual casting isn't all that hard. You can't let what your eyes see distract you from your good memory and your determination to cast the Patronus.

"Well, your Professor Snape did well to tell you to prepare your mind, and he did well to try to force his way in. Teaching Occlumency requires that type of mental assault as a part of the training - eventually. He should have started gently and increased the pressure as you improved. And he didn't help a bit with how to prepare your mind to resist."

Harry had let the priest use Legilimency to see his lessons with Snape, and his mental fight when Voldemort possessed him briefly in the foyer of the Ministry of Magic. He'd also shown the big gentle man the moments leading up to and including immolating Marcus Flint.

"Harry, you did what you had to do to save your life. It was pure self-defense and a good bit of wandless magic to boot. I've done likewise to protect my life and others in battle."

Harry sighed. "Do the memories and dreams ever stop?"

"For me they haven't after fifty years, but they come less regularly. I am at peace about it, and I can cope now."

Father Martin took him through a number of questions to find several scenario's of where Harry had been loved by someone, and times when he'd loved others strongly.

"In Occlumency there are a number of scenarios to keep others out of your mind. I like to start with what can be the simplest. It's not the best, but it's easy to begin with, and will probably work at the distance you are from Voldemort. You fill your mind with as many random and disjointed thoughts as possible that the attacker doesn't want, then he gets frustrated with the process and gives up. That's passive and can be overridden, but it can be effective if the invader is not being too intrusive, which is what he must be to prevent you from waking.

The next step up in defense is to flood your mind with memories so distasteful to the Legilimens, that he's compelled to leave. That's what you did to drive Voldemort out at the Ministry.

"Harry, you need to catalog all of your best thoughts of love, not just for Sirius, but all of those that mean so much to you. Before sleeping, or anytime you might be attacked, you must run through your mind a series of wonderful thoughts and memories about how much they mean to you and how much you love them. You must go to sleep thinking these thought over and over again. This apparently hurt Voldemort and can't possibly be anything but beneficial to you. As a matter of fact, perhaps you should only think about those who are still alive."

Harry interrupted, "But I don't want to forget about Sirius."

"I'm not asking you to. However thinking about him before sleeping, just gives Voldemort something to attack you with, his death. Never forget those whom you love that have gone before you, but for this exercise, go with thoughts about the living.

"But Father William, Professor Snape always said to clear your mind. You're saying to fill it, I'm..."

"Confused?" When Harry nodded the priest continued. "Clearing your mind is not exactly what he meant, even though that is the way he taught it. He really meant to clear it of anything that the Legilimens could use against you, just think innocent or useless thoughts. But there is a good reason I don't teach that until later.

"If I say don't think about Quidditch, can you possibly not think about it? Of course not. At that moment it is always impossible not to think about what is mentioned. And Quidditch means so much to you, so that makes it even harder. But if you learn to fill your mind with other things, anything, particularly things that help you fight attacks, you do in fact clear from your mind the thoughts or memories the attacker seeks.

"As you gain more discipline in this you evolve what you think about and control how and what you think. Eventually you can clear your mind and keep it clear for quite a while from any one thought or series of thoughts you want to hide.

"The hardest defense against Legilimency is also the most obvious to the attacker - barrier or wall building. If Voldemort were to come up against s solid brick wall in Professor Snape's mind, he'd know Severus was hiding something from him. So your potions master probably floods a variety of different thoughts into his consciousness, then he concentrates on the main things he wants Voldemort to believe he's thinking. Then he probably discreetly hides what he wants protected in a far out of the way walled-off recess of his mind and goes nowhere near it.

"Harry, he's to be admired as an Occlumens if Snape's kept his thoughts hidden from Voldemort all this time. I can't imagine that evil tyrant's too subtle in exploring what his minions think. But Snape's the worse teacher of Occlumency I've ever heard of.

"Try this tonight - think only on those living who you love, and how and why you love them. Concentrate on it before sleeping. Do it until you fall asleep."

~*~

Just before bedtime, Father Martin came by Harry's room. Harry still had the light on and was reading.

"Good, you're not sleeping yet. Do you have any questions about your Occlumency assignment for tonight?"

"No, sir. I've thought up a number of different happy moments with those I love and who love me. It makes me realize that I need to find a way to tell them what they mean to me. My friend Hermione Granger gave me this album of photos from my years at Hogwarts. I looked through it, and it helped me think of a number of things like you described. I've been replaying them some in my mind all night. I have a feeling this will work, or at least help a lot."

As the Anglican priest turned to leave Harry said, "I read some about David this afternoon. Sort of interesting how he fought the lion and the bear. I plan to read about him fighting the giant before I go to sleep."

Father Martin paused with a thoughtful look on his face, then said, "Earlier in that book there's a special blessing that Aaron, the first high priest of Israel, prayed over the people. Would you allow me to pray it over you now? I think you'll like the words."

"Sure, Father William, thank you."

The kindly enormous wizard and holy man lowered his head and prayed silently for just less than a minute. Harry also lowered his head, but from time to time he'd peek to watch the man before him.

With his eyes still closed Father Martin raised his face towards heaven. His countenance seemed to glow, not magically, but from a great delight in his heart. In a marvelous, deep, melodious voice, he joyfully proclaimed, "The LORD bless thee, and keep thee: The LORD make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The LORD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace."

After a minute more of silence, he opened his eyes and said, "Good night, Harry. Shout if you need me, but I believe you won't."

"I don't think I will either. Good night, sir."

As St. Simon's pastor closed the door, he took one last look. The young lad destined to fight the greatest Dark Wizard ever known, was smiling as he read about a young, chosen shepherd boy, who became famous for slaying a giant.

Author's Notes -

Father Martin's Prayer - This prayer/blessing is referred to as Aaron's High Priestly Blessing among other names. It is found in the Torah, B'midbar (Numbers) 6:24-26.