Unofficial Portkey Archive

Millicent Bulstrode had never had a true friend. The person most outsiders thought to be her friend, Pansy Parkinson, was a useful acquaintance, but that was just the appearance of friendship, a thin veneer at best.

Millicent knew this; she accepted this; she didn't like it, but she was realistic in all things.

Millicent threw herself into a cause to find satisfaction and meaning in life. Listening to her father's pureblood rantings, she knew that by following the Dark Lord Voldemort, she would find fulfillment, and be appreciated for her efforts. Without a lot of reflection, she wholeheartedly accepted the pureblood ideology, hoping for her share of the spoils of inevitable victory. She knew she'd be accepted as a friend and equal in the ranks of the Death Eaters.

Then, a few days after her return from school to her less than grand, slightly run down Bulstrode ancestral home, Millicent's world was turned up upside - destroyed actually.

Her brother, Mylon, who had been recently inducted into the ranks of Death Eaters, had just returned from his first raid. Millicent expected him to be elated and delighted with his success when he returned home, but Mylon wasn't. He'd also refused to discuss it with her or anyone else in the family.

During the previous Christmas holidays, her parents had confided in Millicent that they had misinformed her. Her one truly loving grandparent, Granny Rachel Tillis, was not a squib.

Rachel Tillis, nee Johnston, had in fact been a Muggle. Millicent's maternal grandfather Felix was always a bit daft. He'd grown up in a small village in Flintshire and Rachel was a neighbor from a nearby farm. Grandfather Felix Tillis was never seriously concerned about the blood purity issue, even though his family was. Felix was the youngest of six sons, and he had made his way through Slytherin House at Hogwarts by riding on the robe tails of his older brothers. After his dismal performance at Hogwarts, Felix's parents had given up on him and placed all their pride and ambitions on his older siblings.

However, Felix Tillis' brothers died to a man in the Grindelwald war as a part of the Englander Brigaden, a group of volunteers supporting Grindelwald. They went to Germany to fight for him before British wizards and witches declared war on that Dark Lord, and had any of the older Tillis boys survived, they would have not been welcomed back to England after the war.

Felix was not as stupid as many might have thought. After his parents died in a Muggle bombing raid in 1939, Felix sold the family lands and invested with the goblins in an untouchable series of annuities. This allowed him to live in quiet peace with his beloved Rachel, and to give his daughter, Millicent's mother Fanny, a nice dowry to marry Simpson Bulstrode.

The Bulstrodes were relatively poor, but they had a Three-Thirty-Three Family name, even though they had sold their rights to parliamentary rule for the next ten generations, six generations past. The name Bulstrode, combined with the respectable name of Tillis, and Fanny Tillis' dowry, made for a comfortable life for Millicent's immediate family.

In 1976, Felix Tillis visited France to see a haunted castle. He loved to read of the fighting on the continent during the wizard wars coinciding with the Muggle Hundred Years War. Felix had never really learned that Muggle autos and lorries drove on different sides of the road in France - in fact, he'd spent little time around Muggle vehicles in England.

One day Felix left the Wizarding hostel where he was staying, walked out the front door, looked right to see no traffic, and stepped right into the path of a Muggle vegetable delivery lorry coming from his left.

When Felix died, Rachel Tillis moved in with Millicent's family, even though Simpson Bulstrode was against it. When Mylon was born the next year, there were complications, and Fanny stayed in St. Mungo's for a month. Rachel cared for the wee lad Mylon, and for Fanny, too, when she eventually made it home. During this time Rachel won the heart of her son-in-law by caring for his family in ways he never could have.

By the time Millicent was born in February of 1980, Rachel had her act down pat. She knew how to appear to visitors like an eccentric witch who loved to cook in Muggle fashion, and she had her grandchildren convinced she was a squib.

After the start of her summer holiday following fifth year, Millicent visited Pansy to hear Professor Snape tell of the Paladin Program. She rejected the offer out of hand, but stayed on at Pansy's for a two-day visit.

Millicent arrived home by Knight Bus just after 9:00 that evening to find all of her family dead, and the Dark Mark drifting over her burned out home. Her brother Mylon, still dressed in his new Death Eater robes, had apparently thrown his mask in the dirt and stomped on it before dying, trying to defend his family.

Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore arrived shortly after the Aurors. Snape explained that You-Know-Who had discovered the Muggle in the family line, and sent a squad of new recruits to kill the family. Mylon was one of those new recruits, and only realized it was his own family being attacked after he and his fellow Death Eaters had arrived by illegal Portkey.

Without family or real friends, the two professors took Millicent and what few possessions she could recover to Hogwarts. Millicent immediately volunteered for the Paladin Program and became one of the hardest working recruits that summer.

All of the professors living at Hogwarts that summer made a concerted effort to befriend their newly orphaned student. Several attempted to show her the error in the prejudices she'd imbibed from her father without making her ashamed of her pureblood heritage.

Their kindness slowly won her over. However, every zealot needs a cause, and one who rejects firmly held lifelong beliefs, will seek out a new cause to follow with a fervency seldom seen. Millicent wanted to be a true believer - in something - again.

Considering who killed her family, it is no surprise that Millicent Bulstrode declared to all that she wanted to be in the forefront of fighting Voldemort and his followers. She lived alone in the Slytherin dungeons that summer, and had little else to think about, except how best to gain her revenge.

Her commitment was total, and she decided she would ruthlessly swallow her pride and earnestly seek out Harry Potter. She determined that he would be in the heat of the battle more than anyone else she could hope to have access to. She admitted that Harry and his friends had every right to hate her, but she also thought that Harry would believe her change of heart, as the Dark Lord had also killed his family.

She repeatedly asked Dumbledore to arrange for a meeting with Harry. Potter and his friends could despise her all they wanted she declared to the Headmaster, as long as they let her follow them into the fight.

Secretly, and with cool Slytherin analysis, Millicent realized Harry had collected a cadre of misfits to follow him and trained them to serve well under adverse circumstances. He'd be a friend to anyone loyal to him and willing to fight the good fight. She looked at herself in the mirror. She'd never be slim, though most of her fat was gone from the strenuous Paladin exercises. Millicent would never be considered pretty, even though Professor Flitwick commented that he liked it when she wore a smile, rather than her previous scowl. She'd never be popular, period.

But Harry Potter should eventually welcome anyone prepared and able to fight well. She committed herself to becoming a Paladin warrior, one that Potter would want in his ranks.

~*~

After Ambassador Glean and Madam Bones left Dumbledore's office, the Headmaster and Harry decided that, for safety's sake, a conjured or even transfigured bell jar made of glass with a stone base should not be used to contain the Unfailing Light. The Thunderfire in a jar, perversely prized by vampire coven leaders, could exist for decades, centuries perhaps. To risk the possible destabilization of the container by material failure causing a future mishap or altercation was unthinkable. No, regular glass would not do, they would have to have non-conjured crystal and a mated base.

The Headmaster knew of a source for such items at a Wizarding crystal and bric-a-brac shop on Cramond Island in the Firth of Forth, not too far from Edinburgh. Dumbledore contacted the proprietor by Floo. Although the shop was closed, the owner asked his old friend to come through the Floo. It turned out that the shop owner had just what was needed. Several minutes later the Headmaster was back with two crystal bell jars and matched bases, and he told Harry that he had commissioned several more for delivery in a few day's time.

The two made their way to an empty dungeon room where Harry followed Telemachus Grind's instructions and produced his first Unfailing Light in a jar as a gift for the chief vampire negotiator.

They had no sooner ascended back to the Headmaster's office, than the two previous visitors returned by Floo. Ambassador Glean begrudgingly gave Harry three bags of Galleons and Harry gave him the sealed container in return. Madam Bones winked at Harry as she and the muttering ambassador left for the peace tables.

Dumbledore then suggested he and Harry meet the following afternoon at 2:00 to discuss his concerns regarding Snape and Malfoy. Harry agreed and they sent a school owl to confirm the meeting with Remus Lupin.

~*~

Dumbledore's Office - The next day - 1:36 pm

"I am against this, Albus, completely against this."

"Against what, Severus?"

Dumbledore decided that Professor Snape should be in the meeting with Harry. The headmaster owled Harry his reasons and Dobby delivered Harry's reply agreeing to the meeting so arranged.

The Potions professor quipped, "Every part of this, Headmaster. Potter has no right to hold this position. He has no right making these demands of you, Mr. Malfoy, or me. And he has no right to meet with Miss Bulstrode. He hasn't the temperament to restrain himself under pressure, nor the leadership skills to assume such a place in this school. You, yourself saw fit to not make him a prefect. You are but the latest in a long line of Wizards who spoil him to our everlasting detriment."

Dumbledore frowned in anger. He'd gone over this with his younger colleague several times, with and without Minerva's presence to help him make his point. He decided logic had reached its end.

"Severus." He said sharply. "I've tried to show you my reasons, but you've refused to see. Miss Bulstrode will arrive any minute now, and Harry shortly thereafter. You won't listen to my logical explanations, so here are the facts we go forward with. Do not forget or go against them.

"Fact number one. We had more Outstandings in Defense last year than any year since the Grindelwald war. Every one of them was earned by students in Harry's DA. The students that only followed Dolores' training scored poorer than we've seen in many years, and a large share of them were your Slytherins." Dumbledore's anger was now obvious to Snape, and the younger professor's face showed that he understood this.

Dumbledore continued, "Second. Your treatment of him over the years has been unacceptable. I asked you repeatedly to treat him better, but Harry's memories of your teaching through the years, up to and including your so-called Occlumency instructions, proved you paid me little mind. Honestly, Severus, I never trained you in that subject so bluntly, and you were over five years older than Harry when we began. What were you thinking being so cruel to him?"

Dumbledore paused and took a calming breath.

"Harry has only asked for fair treatment; he's made no demands. You have not given it to him, or to anyone else I've talked to that wasn't in Slytherin. And I've talked to current students and those who have finished in the last few years.

"And every claim Harry made about Mr. Malfoy was proven true by numerous witnesses. I intend to assure Harry that we, you and I both will discuss Draco's words and actions with him before school starts in a few weeks. It's not too late to give young Mr. Malfoy the Acceleration Potion's termination dose and end his participation. We will make it clear to Draco that his behavior must change. In a few minutes you and I will assure Harry that we will have that discussion and hold Draco accountable for his actions."

Once again Dumbledore stopped and breathed deeply to calm himself. "I blame myself in part for letting you go on this long without verifying that you and your proteges were behaving as I requested and expected, but only a fraction of the blame do I accept. I plan to take a more active part in seeing that my wishes are carried out, Severus. Am I making myself clear?"

The Potions Master only nodded. Dumbledore continued, "I have many things to regret about decisions that I've made concerning Mr. Potter - from his life with the Dursleys to his treatment by you, but I likewise regret not taking more of an interest in your life during your Hogwarts years. Perhaps we might have prevented... if we'd come to know each other..."

The Headmaster looked off into nothing with a most sad look on his face.

"For that, I apologize to you, Severus, just as I plan to apologize to Harry after your part of our meeting is concluded."

Both men remained silent for a long moment. Dumbledore looked up and said, "Millicent is approaching the stairs below. Please go and bring her up unless you have something else to add. I will inform you of the mechanics of how things will be, but there will be no further discussion regarding my decisions about Harry's role this coming year or how things will go forward."

With a silent nod and barely concealed anger, the younger wizard left his chair and soon returned with his charge. After the customary amenities and the usual refusal of a lemon drop, Dumbledore asked Millicent how she was doing. He wanted to know about her comfort in the Slytherin dungeons this summer, her Paladin 'visits,' her classes and studies, and her emotional state following the loss of her family.

For the most part Millicent answered as politely and briefly as Harry Potter had answered such questions in times gone by. Dumbledore marveled to himself at the stony resolve and robust resilience of these young people thrust into such personal chaos.

"Ah, Miss Bulstrode, at your request I briefly informed Harry about the attack and loss of your family. As I predicted, and you hoped, he immediately expressed regret for your loss and willingness to speak with you.

"Harry mentioned nothing about your past conflicts, although he did admit he would have to intercede on your behalf with Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley."

Dumbledore rushed to allay the hesitant look on her face. "Harry's first concern was how to convince his friends to accept you as quickly as possible." Upon hearing this, Millicent calmed noticeably and he continued. "Harry has grown more than any other Paladin this summer, and you've all grown and matured better than we'd hoped at the outset."

The Headmaster went on to briefly tell her about Harry's battle with a number of Death Eaters on Aberration Day. "Please, do not mention this to Mr. Potter. I have only touched upon it to explain why Harry is further along developmentally than the rest of the Paladins."

"I am sure you have noticed, my dear, that you and your fellow Paladins have returned to your initial urge levels during the potion induced 'visits.' That, however, is not true of Harry. Because of the events I've related, Mr. Potter has finished taking this potions series and has even been recognized by the Gringotts goblins as having attained his majority. A number of your fellow female Paladins have rushed him to kiss him even when not under the influence of a 'visit.'

"You will no doubt feel a similar urge. So I will place a Sticking charm on you to allow you time to regain your composure when he comes in. This will also allow me to tell Harry of your presence and the reason you are here."

"Headmaster," Snape began. "I hardly think Miss Bulstrode here is the dunderheaded fan girl that usually swoons after Potter-"

"This is not idolization, Severus, but a fact observed by myself and several others on the staff. Mr. Potter is most uncomfortable with this, and longs to see his fellow students regain their control from before the time of your potions mishap. Harry is approaching the stairway now and knows my password."

Millicent agreed to the Sticking charm. Snape regained his composure from the mention of his responsibility for that potions debacle while Dumbledore literally 'stuck' Millicent in a corner.

~*~

After Occlumency lessons the night before, Harry had discussed with Father William the coming meeting with Dumbledore and Snape. Harry freely admitted to the priest that it was not his usual way to be so confrontational, but he wanted to make things right up front, as much as he possibly could. Then he could go forward with a clear conscience, and hopefully with a number of the issues on his mind settled to some degree. He had a war to fight.

Harry realized it was futile to expect everything to be as he wanted, but he at least needed to have a clear working relationship with Dumbledore, which he thought was quite close, and some relief with Snape and Malfoy, which he hoped was possible - to some degree.

After a number of questions about the situations, the people, and Harry's hopes, Father William suggested that Harry go into the meeting ready to meet whoever was present more than halfway. The idea was that if Harry made every reasonable effort toward reconciliation, then he would have little to regret if things weren't resolved fully, or at all. The two discussed possible scenarios for the meeting and Harry formulated his strategy, mentally rehearsing his ideas for reconciliation while exercising and going through his morning routine.

It was two minutes before two o'clock on Harry's new self-winding Heuer watch. The watch would work when worn by a magical person because there were no electronic or electrical parts. However, according to Ted Granger, it was a most accurate and shock-resistant wristwatch that should serve Harry well for years. Besides, Harry thought the dark grey titanium band and housing looked wicked.

Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs to Dumbledore's office and called out the password. He rode the circular stairs up, breathing deeply to calm himself for whatever battle lay ahead.

Harry walked into the office and those present were assembled as he had expected, with Dumbledore to his left and behind his cluttered desk. Harry immediately faced right towards Professor Snape, turning to look at him full on. He did not see Millicent Bulstrode behind the Headmaster, struggling against the Sticking charm's restraint. Dumbledore was barely in his peripheral vision, and Millicent was even less likely to come into his view in this stance. Had he known she was there Harry would not have begun as he did.

"Professor Snape, I'd like to start by apologizing for any antagonistic actions I've taken towards you over the years. My biggest apology is for looking into the Pensieve last year and seeing your memories. That was extremely rude of me. I shouldn't have looked and I am very sorry. I have not and shall never tell anyone what I saw there, and I will endeavor to forget it, though that is unlikely.

"I am also so sorry for whatever my father or godfather may have done to you. I have had a large number of cruel pranks inflicted on me over the years, and I don't approve of them. A few innocent wheezes like a Canary Cream may be acceptable, but if what I saw was any indication of how they treated you regularly, I can tell you I would have stood with my mother in chastising them, given my own experiences."

Harry could not read how the Potions Master was taking this, but he plunged ahead. "I'd like to bury the hatchet between us and try to work together in this war if at all possible."

Harry stopped a bit abruptly he realized, but he deemed it imprudent to say anything more until Snape responded. He noticed that Snape's face portrayed his usual scowl, but his eyes were like cauldrons about to brew over - with what Harry could not tell.

After twenty seconds that seemed an eternity, Snape's face began to darken. "So, Potter, you seek to take a higher path of self-righteous-"

"Severus!" Dumbledore interrupted him. "You forget we have another student present. Miss Bulstrode and Mr. Potter need to speak before we dismiss her and talk of our roles together, the three of us."

Dumbledore stepped aside and Harry saw Millicent for the first time. He paled and sat down with a thump on the nearest chair while the Headmaster asked her if she could now control herself. She stated that she could.

Harry stood; remembering that now was the time to comfort her. He walked to her and took one of her hands in both of his for a few seconds. "Millicent, I am so sorry for your loss. My godfather died about two weeks before your family. I know it's not the same, but...." He dropped her hand, and she clasped both of her hands together as if they were cold.

"Thank you, Harry. I don't deserve kindness from you after the way I've treated you and your friends this past year, and before. I'm... I'm sorry as well-" Her last words came out broken as she sobbed a bit.

Harry placed his left arm lightly around her shoulder and guided her to the chair where he had been sitting. Without thinking about it, he released his wand from its holster and wordlessly conjured a similar chair for himself. Her eyes widened briefly, and he made a mental note to be more careful about when and where he performed magic beyond his year. At his gentle nudge she sat. He sat in the conjured chair and placed his left hand on her right arm hoping to comfort her with a gentle touch.

Moments later she produced a handkerchief and wiped her eyes and nose. "I'll cry later." She sniffed. "I want to fight them, Harry. I want to kill those vermin who turned on us. I'm not proud that we supported the Dark Lord, but we were faithful as a family to his cause. If this is the way he and his followers treat those who willing serve, then I say kill them all." The malice dripped from her words.

She sniffed and blew her nose before continuing. "Kill them all and let me join in. Teach me. I understand that you've taught others in that dueling club or whatever it was. I also understand you've killed some of them recently. Well, good job, Harry. How can I help?"

Harry sighed and lowered his hand from her arm, but not in a manner to show any displeasure. "Millicent, have your dreams started yet?"

"What dreams, Harry?"

"The dreams where you hear them accusing you for living when they died."

She dropped her head as she bit her lip nervously. "Ye-yes. They... er, they sit up from the places where they died and ask why I wasn't there to protect them." She sobbed again, and Harry placed his hand back on her arm.

"Millicent, look at me. Look at me!" When she finally did, he continued. "I still have those same dreams, only it's my parents, Cedric Diggory, and my godfather, Sirius Black." Her eyes widened at the mention of Black's name. Harry briefly explained his godfather's innocence. Harry sighed. "Those dreams of mine, like yours of your family, will fade with time, but will not ever go away. You'll eventually make peace with them since you couldn't have done anything but die with them had you been there.

"But I want to tell you about the dreams that I've had since I killed those Death Eaters. It's only been just over a week since... but, well, the dreams of Sirius and the others dying are nothing compared to the dreams of the eight Death Eaters I killed. Did you know Marcus Flint was one of them?"

She shook her head without looking up at him. He continued, " He put a Crucio on me. I was knocked down and lost my wand. He stood over me and lowered his mask so I could see who was about to kill me. Smiling, he slowly started to invoke the Killing Curse.

"I just raised my hand and cast a wandless Fireball curse. I only meant to scorch him a bit and get him to leave." Harry paused and said very quietly, "The screams and smells were horrible." Harry lowered his head. Millicent looked up and now placed her hand on his arm.

Harry raised his gaze after a moment and smiled weakly at her. "Marcus laughed, er... just before, you know. He had this look in his eyes; he was just so happy that he was going to kill me. Yet with all of that evil intent, I'm still haunted by his screams as he burned to death. Almost every night since then I've had some sort of dream about those eight dying, and they all wanted to kill me."

She was looking at him now, and he looked down to avoid her wide-eyed look of awe.

He looked up after a long moment, and stared out the window to his right. He said softly, but loud enough so the three others there could hear, "But the dreams don't matter; I will fight them all and kill as many as I have to, as many as necessary to stop the slaughter. You must realize - your family should have no been killed than the Muggle couple in their seventies who were attacked last night."

Harry paused, hoping those words would sink in. "I'll kill Death Eaters and I'll kill Riddle, er Voldemort's just an alias. His real name is Tom Riddle." She'd flinched at the name and he turned back to her with a weak smile. "Voldemort is a made up name. He's no more a lord than you are a chamber pot. He's a half-blood. His father was a Muggle." She flinched again at the name.

"If I say his name, Voldemort, what's he going to do, put me higher on his list to kill? I'm already on the top. He would've had to kill me a couple of times yesterday to want me any more dead than he already does."

He smiled for a moment, but the serious look returned instantly. "Millicent, I am going to stop as many as I can from hurting anyone else. I'd rather capture them, but I'll kill all of them if that's what it takes. In a sense I will kill Riddle for my parents, Cedric, and Sirius, but I won't do it for revenge. I've come to realize that revenge will eat me up inside and give me nothing but a half-life at best when this is over.

"You don't want to be driven by revenge, although I know you can't step away from that burning desire at the moment. You need it right now to keep you going. But I want you to realize we have a responsibility, those of us who can, to stop them, whatever it takes. I want you to accept in your mind right now, that in the future you'll begin to make the idea of protecting others your primary reason to fight, not revenge."

He turned back to her from the window and smiled again. "Although there is one exception for me at the moment: Bellatrix Lestrange is the one who killed my godfather." His grin became a bit evil at that moment. "I freely admit I want to kill her because I wantto kill her, painfully as well." His smile faded. "But I'm working on overcoming it."

Her face looked like she was weighing his words, sifting through them. She finally said, "I... I'll try... er, to take your advice, Harry. Thanks for understanding that I can't accept it right now. I still need the hope of revenge to go on, but I'll think on what you said."

None of the four present stirred for several long moments, each lost in his or her private thoughts of death and revenge.

"Er, Harry. Did you mean what you said, apologizing to Professor Snape?" Millicent asked.

Harry heard Snape stir uneasily, but he didn't glance away from her eyes to acknowledge him. "I did, but I doubt he believes me. That's his issue; I can only make as sincere an apology as possible and hope he accepts."

"I thought so," she said. She stood, and Harry rose with her. The two professors rose as well, but they were mere observers to the conversation.

Millicent drew her wand, but Harry felt no threat from the action. She placed her wand hand over her heart and said, "Harry Potter, I, Millicent Jeanne Bulstrode do make a Witch's Pledge to you this day..." Dumbledore gasped and Snape tried to interrupt, but Millicent only continued louder to drown out his words. "I make a Witch's Pledge to serve you in this crusade against the Dark- against Vol- Volde- Voldemort," she sighed, "And against all of his minions. No boon that is mine to grant will I withhold from you, and I further pledge to train my best to be prepared, to help you however you ask, and to follow you into the gates of Hell if need be, to destroy him and his followers. This pledge lasts until you release me, but not until Vold- Voldemort, what's his real name, Tom Riddle?" Harry smiled and nodded. She went on, "But not until this jumped up half-blood Tom Riddle is dead. Upon my life, upon my honor and upon my magic, do I so pledge."

She lowered her wand, placed it back into her robes, then looked at him and smiled.

Harry returned her smile and said, "It gets easier to say his name as you do it more often."

"I'm with you," she said. "He wants you dead more than he wants me. But he can't want me any more dead than he already does, regardless of what I call him."

Speaking before Professor Snape, Dumbledore said, "Miss Bulstrode, I hate to end this important chat abruptly, but we three have much else to discuss this afternoon. Even now Professor Lupin is coming up my stairs to participate in these discussions. I'm sure Harry will meet you to discuss these matters more fully in the near future. Please forgive me for this dismissal."

Millicent said, "Oh no, Professor, I understand. Harry, I'm not safe anywhere but here at Hogwarts. If I'm not in a class or exercising, I'm in the Great Hall, out running on the grounds, or in the Slytherin rooms. I'll tell the portrait of Fifer MacRath in front of our entrance to announce you if you come down there." She smiled and made her way out of the office, thanking the three of them again and greeting Lupin cheerily as he entered and she left.

To a degree Harry dreaded the conversation returning to Snape's reaction to his earlier apology. Harry somehow knew that his conversation with Millicent would not improve matters. But he would stick by the sincerity of his words. Father William had told him that he was not responsible for Snape's reaction, only his own actions.

Lupin greeted each of them with differing measures of cordiality.

Dumbledore began quickly, as if he wanted to steer the meeting as best he could. "Remus, before you arrived, and before Harry realized that Miss Bulstrode was present, your ward made what I believe was a most sincere apology for his actions last year in looking at Severus' memories in a Pensieve. He also apologized for any bullying his father or Sirius did to Severus during your years as students here at Hogwarts. Bullying mind you, he did not apologize for relatively harmless pranks and pratfalls, just the cruel actions on their part."

The stunned look on Lupin's face was as obvious to all as the sneer on Snape's. But Remus looked to Harry. He gave his guardian a most genuine look, trying to get him to go along with his lead.

Remus swallowed, stuttered for a moment, and said, "Yes, er, Severus. I should have done more to stop the bullying, and, er, I should have worked with Lily earlier and more often to moderate things between you three. Please accept my apologies as well."

Instantly upon finishing his own apology to Snape, Remus looked to Harry. The young man gave him a most grateful look of thanks, causing Remus to look happy with his own actions.

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but paused and looked at Dumbledore. Harry and Remus followed Snape's gaze. The Headmaster did not really give anything away to anyone looking at him, but the Potions master barely sighed. Some message had been passed, or at least confirmed.

"I accept your apology for yourself, Potter... and, er, I accept your apology too, Lupin with the same degree of sincerity it was given." Snape's face seemed to be pinched with these words.

Then his demeanor darkened. "I do not accept your apology for your father and godfather. You cannot do it for them and I refuse to accept your apology on their behalf." His smug expression following this statement probably indicated that Snape thought he'd won some small victory within the position Dumbledore had forced upon him.

Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, as the head of the Potter and Black families, I believe I have the obligation to apologize for wrongs I perceive that were perpetrated by members of my houses, present and past - an obligation and a right to do this. Am I wrong?"

Dumbledore's smile was cautious. "As the head of any household it is a wise thing to seek reconciliation. As the head of a Three-Thirty-Three Family your acceptance of this responsibility and your apology is recognized by Wizengamot rulings as if those you apologize for had actually apologized themselves."

Harry's eyes only flickered a bit with this revelation. He turned back to Snape. "Professor, I do mean my apology sincerely, and theirs."

After a painful pause the Slytherin head said, "Now that you've discovered your latest bit of fame and good fortune, I see we must endure whatever new privileges you can eek out of your new positions. I imagine your cheek will grow even more unchecked."

"Severus-" Lupin's tone was arctic. The threat was palpable. But Dumbledore interrupted him.

"Severus, you forget what your position might require of you in such a response, and I will hold you to the minimum of acceptable behavior. Also, you must realize how I might act in Harry's stead." Snape paled even more that his normal dungeon-bound pallor.

Dumbledore added, "Now, Harry, I thank you for your gracious words to my colleague, Severus. You cannot force anyone to accept an apology, but you gain the benefit of making it, if you are sincere, and I believe you are. Severus, I ask that you consider what he has said and think about acting more positively in the future."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, changing the direction of the meeting. "Gentlemen, I have called this gathering to do three things. Foremost, we four have important roles in this coming school year, or that is my intention. You three must decide to accept my proposals in full or in part.

"I also want to respond in part at least to several requests you made, Harry. They have bearing on all three of us. Finally, as we accept the challenges I have for us, gentlemen, we need to come to a working accord, shall we say."

Dumbledore paused at this moment and looked at each individually. Harry knew his face showed curiosity. Remus nodded in agreement and showed no real emotion that Harry could decipher. Snape's expression was one similar to suffering from indigestion.

Dumbledore smiled and started. "Assuming we have proper Defense instructors, the established curriculum works for general Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom training. However, I've never felt that it meets our needs as to practical training. In this time of war the lack of adequate practical training in Defense is even more glaringly obvious, and potentially disastrous.

"The Paladins will receive what they need during the Auror training, but that is two years off and it won't help any others. We need formal practical Defense training now for as many of our students as possible - at least for the third-years and up. What to do; what to do?"

In typical Dumbledore fashion, the Headmaster delighted in asking a rhetorical question that could not be answered, but pausing for those present to respond anyway.

After he looked around satisfied, he proceeded. "So, earlier this summer I commissioned a proven expert in practical Defense training to design a program for most, if not all our classes here."

Harry's countenance fell, though he did not really show it. It seemed that his work on the practical Defense training for an expanded Defense Association had been a wasted effort.

Dumbledore said, "I received the proposal about a week ago. The curriculum was brilliant and masterful in its outline. It proposed executing a much more comprehensive training program than I'd hoped for.

"Failing once again to have a continuing Defense professor for the next year, I asked the three existing teachers whose advice I trust the most to help me with such matters. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape all reviewed the proposal and commented on the excellence of the piece. Harry, I then asked Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt to examine it also, as well as Remus here. They all commented most favorably as well.

"What I didn't do, Harry was tell them in advance who the author was. I might have implied the author was someone I had met during my travels last year. After they all gave me their positive comments and expressed an interest in helping implement the aforementioned practical training program, I then asked if they thought inviting the author to join our staff would be advantageous. Once again, all agreed without reservation.

"Only then did I tell them who the author was."

Harry did not understand what Dumbledore was leading to, but the delight in the Headmaster's eyes, and the disgust in Severus Snape's gave a tug at Harry's subconscious. Before the thought fully coalesced in his brain, Professor Dumbledore said, "Harry, it was your plan that we all marveled at. It was your plan that we want to implement with few changes, and those only for practical reasons, not because of any fault in your thinking."

Harry blushed and he knew it was obvious to all, even thought he tried to curtail it. Remus smiled openly. Dumbledore gave one of his patented knowing grins. Snape scowled predictably.

"Harry, I have invited a number of students to participate with us in the Paladin Program this year. They come to us from all parts of the world. The final count of how many will join us has still not been settled. We seem to be receiving indications of more coming from Eastern Europe and the USA than we had originally thought. At this point there are roughly one hundred confirmed Paladins joining us this year. Just over half of them will be from Hogwarts. However, there may also be as many as twenty more before all is said and done.

"We usually have approximately a thousand students each year. The Madison Academy in the States is the largest magical school in the world with over eighteen hundred in attendance in any given term. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang each have somewhere between six and seven hundred students. The other twenty-seven magical schools in the world have significantly less attendees. Half of them have one hundred pupils a year or less.

"I tell you this to say that the Paladin Program would be a substantial school in and of itself. We need more than just the normal compliment of Defense instructors, and we need administrative help with the program as well.

"You do not know this, Harry, I think, but Professor Snape is an excellent administrator. Were I to retire, or Professor McGonagall, I'd probably see him promoted to Deputy Headmaster for that very reason. Therefore, I have made him Chair Professor of the Defense Department here at Hogwarts, a temporary department to exist for the duration of the war with Voldemort. He will instruct many of the upper level classes and manage all of the class activities. You see no one class will only have one instructor for the year. Different instructors will rotate in and out of the Defense classes throughout all three terms. Only the first and second years will have the same professors for all Defense classes like you did. And only the first and second-years will not have any practical instruction outside of regular Defense class time. We've deemed them too inexperienced with magic in general to benefit from such training.

"All others will have practical Defense training with rotating instructors, as you designed, giving them a variety of influences in their learning. In a sense, your Defense Association, the DA, will now be institutionalized and formally titled the Practical Defense class. I'm sure it will be called 'PD,' just as Defense Against the Dark Arts is sometimes called 'DADA.'

"Remus here will return to our faculty and spend most of his time with the first three years, but he will take some time with each year in the Practical Defense classes, if for no other reason than to cover how to deal with any werewolves Voldemort recruits. I feel Remus can best explain such matters, and best demonstrate that not all werewolves are our enemies.

"I had hoped that Professor Washington Pike would be able to spend a term with us from America, but they are ramping up for war at that school as well. However, at least a dozen students will come here from the Madison Academy. Hopefully Professor Pike will visit for a long weekend Defense symposium or conference we'd like to host.

"Master Onichi Mashushita will spend half of the winter term with us from the Momotaro School on Oki Island, off of Honshu. The Bulgarian Dueling champion, Antoneta Poldinko had agreed to spend the first term with us, but alas, she died in the explosion at Bulgaria's Auror Headquarters.

"The Italian Scuola di Magicae will send us one of their Dark Arts experts in the spring term, a Professor Teodoro Galdoni. He specializes in Shield charms. The Kenyan Defense Trainer Kiprono Darrack will visit us from their Shimba Hills School of Wizardry.

"Alastor and Kingsley will be helping out as I said, as well as Nymphadora Tonks. Those three have been permanently assigned to Hogwarts security, and other Aurors will rotate in for that purpose, and may help with training also.

"And now, Harry, following the counsel of my three current professorial advisors, I would like to extend to you, the author of that brilliant Practical Defense training plan, a place on our staff."

Snape snorted, and Dumbledore turned with a cross look and said, "You agreed, Severus, strictly on the basis of the quality of the plan, to include its author on our staff if he would accept. Now that you know who the source is, do you show your continuing bias against him with that "sound" you just made?"

Snape looked as if caught in a trap for a moment. "No Headmaster," he said, pausing to collect himself. "I only think that any student should not be allowed to let the burden of teaching interfere with his or her education." He looked pleased with himself, Harry thought, after saying that.

"And yet, he proved himself able and his training methods valid last year when he taught his Defense Association covertly," Dumbledore said. "Out in the open, with our assistance, and with the help of an accommodating schedule, Harry here should be able to complete his class work, help with training, and do at least as well on his N.E.W.T.s in two years as he did on his O.W.L.s. And that does not include the reborn study habits he developed this summer, or his deeper understanding of magic which Remus has observed in Harry's Spell Mongering efforts."

Dumbledore turned to Harry. "I will not ask you to do more than you feel you can do. You've not even accepted, I know. I've just planned out a way you might participate, if you agree. I do not yet ask for your decision, but are you favorable towards my proposal thus far? Do you want me to go on describing how I see this, understanding that I am fully open to your input and modifications of my ideas for your acceptance of the position of teaching assistant?"

Harry's eyes widened, and he said, "I am open to the possibility of helping more formally, although I admit I thought we'd have a school club and I'd sort of be president or chairman of it. Oh, and what's a teaching assistant?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Here in Britain, we do not have a tradition of having students that also teach, the closest we come to that is a tutor's role, and that's not what I want. In American universities and other such institutions of higher learning a teaching assistant is an advanced year student who attends classes and also helps teach, simple enough. He or she may teach beginning classes altogether, or the teaching assistant, cleverly called TA's by the Americans, quite often helps in a more advanced class and speaks on subjects they may be well informed about. They hold a dual role, staff member during part of the time, and student the rest. Such positions are not given lightly, nor are they given to any but the brightest. The Madison Academy allows a few seventh-years students act as teaching assistants each year, if any of sufficient abilities are available."

Dumbledore stopped and rummaged through a drawer. He pulled out a book, and tossed it to Harry. It was a new copy of The Hogwarts Staff Handbook, but it had been opened. A quick perusal showed several of the pages had pieces of parchment in them with comments written in the margins at those places in the book.

Before Harry could read any of it, Dumbledore spoke and Harry looked up. "That, Harry, is the staff handbook for our school. In all Defense classes, even those for sixth-years, you will be considered by the students and other Defense instructors as a member of the staff. The students will treat you as an instructor, and your fellow instructors will treat you as they want to be treated and as they are required to treat each other.

"You will notice this applies to all staff members: myself, all professors and instructors including Madam Hooch, as well as all support staff members such as Madams Pince and Pomphrey, as well as Mr. Filch.

"In all Defense classes you and they are governed as equals in your demeanor towards each other. All professors and all students will call you Mr. Potter in Defense classes and in the Practical Defense sessions. Outside of Defense classes, you revert to your student status, with the exception that you will have the rights, privileges, and responsibilities of a prefect. I feel you would be undermined in class if you did not have some advanced status as a student.

"Though you will be a student outside all Defense classes, I expect your treatment of staff members, and their treatment of you, to be exemplary at all times." Dumbledore looked Harry in the eyes and twinkled. This means you cannot prank any of the professors or staff, or treat them with anything but respect. And," he turned to Snape, "No professor can treat you with anything less than professional courtesy."

The Headmaster turned back to Harry. "Please read this book and become very familiar with it. It puts you in both a desirable and difficult position. Even the head boy and girl do not enjoy the privileges or have the responsibilities that you will have with this."

Dumbledore looked for a split second at Snape, and then said, "Harry, you proved yourself an able instructor, and capable of teaching in the DA last year. When you went to the Department of Mysteries, you proved you were a most capable leader, not just of students, but of all of those fighting Darkness." He held up his hand to stop Harry's protest. "You acted under bad information, but regardless of that element, you proved yourself a combat leader. That is why you are needed in this position more than any other reason, and the other good reasons are numerous. No one else remotely near the age of our students has seen combat. Oh, your five companions that night have, and I expect you'll recruit them to be some of the Practical Defense helpers described in your plan. But you are the leader of this war that they will look up to; the one most of them will follow once you begin this position training most of the student body."

Dumbledore sighed, "I'm not a completely mad old man. I do acknowledge Mr. Malfoy is unlikely to follow you, but you will win many to your side and your banner. Plenty of people hated me during the Grindelwald war, even after I defeated him.

"I'm not expecting miracles, just your best efforts, and that will surpass my expectations." Dumbledore paused and looked off out the window briefly. "Harry, I don't want you to think I want perfection, none of us are capable of that. You'll make more mistakes. I'll not embarrass any instructor in my employment with the recitation of his or her mistakes as a new teacher, but all of my current instructors have had their missteps, particularly in the early days." His eyes twinkled and Snape and Remus shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

"Are you still interested, Harry?"

"Yes, Professor," he said, after a pause to consider a bit more.

"Fine; let me suggest a schedule for you with the heaviest classroom teaching burden I will allow. You may adjust it as you like, taking into consideration your own class work and teaching load, as well as Quidditch practices." Dumbledore smiled and Harry grinned back. Snape snorted and both rolled their eyes at each other at his disapproval.

"I suggest you take the four core Auror courses: Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. You might be best served to take no courses beyond these."

Harry started. "But, I thought I had to have at least five N.E.W.T. courses to be an Auror."

"You may take more courses if you wish; Harry, but I discussed this with the head of the Auror Academy. He said that your teaching would provide the additional skill set desired in your academic preparation. They are not concerned with an actual grade on a test, so much as the knowledge you gain to accomplish passing grades on the tests. The four required courses are the specific substantive knowledge needed. The elective course can be anything. If they wanted a certain skill or expertise, they'd ask for it.

"So, proven abilities to teach and lead are highly prized, but how could they require it of entrants into their program? Am I explaining this properly, Harry?"

"Yes, sir. Real world knowledge and experience are rare and prized, just like the fact that there are few who can say they've fought Death Eaters, and fewer still who can say they have fought Voldemort. You and I, sir, anyone else?"

Dumbledore replied, "Alastor Moody stood with your father on one of the occasions that James defied Voldemort. James stood with Frank Longbottom on the other two occasions. Frank faced him with two other Aurors on his third incident. I've only faced Tom twice, personally. So, four of us alive can make the claim of having faced Voldemort in a fight and lived to tell the tale, if you count Frank as being among the living. The two who fought along side Frank Longbottom were killed in that confrontation.

"You are right to observe that it is a rarefied expertise, and you are the most experienced person in the world on that count - facing him five times, including the time you received your scar. Those experiences will validate what you say, and I understand that you used the stories of your fights to gain instant credibility at the inception of the DA last year.

"The Auror Academy will not see your combat experience as a 'fifth ability' so much as regard that along with your skills and experiences as a Defense instructor here as an additional qualifying factor. Did I explain that satisfactorily?"

Harry said, "Yes, I've wondered what the Auror Academy would want with an elective N.E.W.T. "

Dumbledore agreed, "All knowledge is helpful, but what you'll learn by instructing will be more valuable than any other course we offer.

"However, you do have a number of choices for other course work if you choose. But you must weigh your choices with your goals of preparing to become an Auror, and more importantly, your goal to defeat Voldemort."

Harry said, "Let's not mince words, Professor; I'm going to kill him. I have to kill him to end this, and I will end this as soon as possible, as soon I can prepare to end his reign of terror with a fair chance to survive." Dumbledore and Remus shivered at Harry's frankness. Snape snorted, but was ignored by all in the room.

"Well, yes, Harry, that is one of the primary reasons we are going to these lengths with all aspects of the Paladin Program.

"Back to your course selection," Dumbledore said. You may want to continue in Magical Creatures with your good friend, Hagrid, but N.E.W.T.-level Creatures is designed for people wanting careers in animal training, husbandry, or management. Knowing the emphasis of his courses, and knowing your career aims, I believe Hagrid will understand if you do not continue with him.

"You are disqualified for Divination at N.E.W.T.-level, but I cannot imagine it interests you in anyway. History of magic you could consider, but..." Harry shook his head.

Dumbledore said, "Herbology is open to you, but I believe you hold no interest there. You find yourself unable to take Runes or Arithmancy without O.W.L. scores of at least E, although, anyone can take any N.E.W.T.s test if he or she chooses. You can continue in your personal study of the matter, but I believe you plan on upsetting those disciplines with the direction of your research." Harry smiled.

"In your seventh year you will be able to take one or two short term courses in business, politics, or international affairs, but that is next year. You can always propose an independent study course this year if you want, but I wonder if you want anything other than your base courses and your Spell Mongery, which, I would love to see in the near future, if you will permit me. Remus tells me it is fascinating.

"If you only take the four core classes, you will have Defense for two hours and Charms for ninety minutes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Transfiguration and Potions will be two hours each on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You will be able to attend a series of Defense classes where you participate as an instructor. You will be in at least one regular class once a week with each of the top three years. Practical Defense classes will be held each day beginning in the 11:00 hour, and run for years three through seven. You will be able to attend two Practical classes for each of those years most weeks. They vary. We will also be teaching refresher Defense classes from time to time for Ministry employees who volunteer for them. You will do one to two of those hour-long classes a week for as long as they ask to attend them.

"On this schedule, you will be in a class until 3:30 each day. I will ask that you be given your writing assignments with plenty of advanced notice so you will have time to complete them. You have the books already, and I believe you have read them."

"Headmaster, at least in Charms, Potions, and Transfigurations, I believe the professors know what research papers they will assign ahead of time. Could I get those assignments as soon as possible to start on them? It would help me be prepared for the year, and I have the time to work on them now to get ahead."

"Good, idea, Harry. I'm sure they will agree. Severus here will teach your sixth year class." Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Please give Harry your list for papers within the next two days, Severus." Not waiting for an answer he turned back to Harry.

"Regarding your own advanced training, I have asked all Defense professors to outline a course of advanced spell work and training for you from 3:30 each day until 5:50. In addition, I have asked Professors Flitwick and McGonagall to allow you to study at your own pace in their classes, if you get ahead of the rest of your classmates. They plan to develop special work in their disciplines to help you with your upcoming fight against Tom Riddle.

"Everyone agrees to give you the minimum homework that is not directly involved in fighting your good fight, or passing N.E.W.T.s. Outside work should be mostly practical and a minimum of the theoretical. The goal is to have them test you with questions during and after classes, and to allow your verbal answers to constitute your testing in those areas whenever possible. Your advanced reading and research in these areas should serve you in good stead.

"The other Defense professors will be responsible for grading papers and tests. You will consult with them on their course schedules, but they will mostly follow the curriculum guidelines set down by the school and the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

"Now, Harry, I have outlined what I think will be a challenging but not impossible work load for you. You may modify it as you see fit, now, or as we go along. And please believe me when I say I do not mean to control your life, but to help you prepare first and foremost, and to help you help others as well.

"You may change this or even reject it in part or in whole. I do not mean to use you as a weapon or a tool, but rather to give you opportunities."

Harry stared at Dumbledore for a long moment, then rose from his chair and paced a bit. "First of all, Professor, I want to thank you for all the effort you have put into developing a course schedule for me. I haven't thought for a moment that you were treating me like a weapon or trying to run my life. It's a marvelous opportunity, and I not only thank you, but please thank all of the other professors for their efforts on my behalf, and their confidence in me." Harry turned to the others in the room. "Professor Snape, Professor Lupin, I thank you."

He paced some more and then paused; he looked out of the west window briefly. "Remus," he said. "You'll be here teaching mostly the younger years, but helping in the Practicals as well?" Remus nodded. "What do you think of this?"

Harry's guardian said, "I was asked about certain parts along the way. I am guilty of telling the Headmaster of your much improved and above-your-age capabilities in Transfiguration and Charms. That may have led him to believe you can go through those courses easily. I also told him of your increased learning skills based on your speed reading, and lately your theory work from your Mongering display."

Harry nodded. "Headmaster," he asked. "Who'll be teaching Potions?"

"Arsenius Jiggers has agreed to come out of retirement for the duration of the war, not only this summer. He believes you'll easily complete the Potions work. He cites your quick grasp of his applied potions addendum and the laboratory work you two did together as evidence of your capabilities."

Snape snorted again at this. Harry turned to him. "Professor, do you think I can do this?"

The question startled Snape. "You jest that you want my opinion, Potter?"

"Severus!" Dumbledore said, but Harry held up his hand.

"Headmaster, I want his perspective. Professor Snape, assuming I show you the respect you deserve as a professor, and assuming I am capable of offering something of value to the classes, and you can only take our Headmaster's word that I helped the members of the DA as he said. But assuming those two things, do you think you could treat me with the respect another staff member warrants in our classes together?"

Snape immediately looked to Dumbledore, and slowly turned back to Harry. "I have been informed that I will be required to do so."

Harry nodded and held his hand up again to the Headmaster. "I wanted an honest answer, and that is brutally honest. Now, Professor, do you think I will be able to accomplish this workload as Professor Dumbledore has outlined? If so or if not, why?"

Snape looked to Dumbledore, but Harry quickly said, "No. Professor Snape, I want your continued brutal honesty, truly."

Snape sneered his trademark sneer. "Based on watching you in my classes and around school the last five years, I feel you do not have the discipline to do half this workload, even with only four courses to attend and prepare for. I feel you do not have what it takes to treat other students fairly without showing partiality to Gryffindor. I think you incapable of performing as an instructor without lording it over others and letting it feed your already overblown ego. You've been a spoiled brat since you walked in the doors for your Sorting, and have not improved since then.

"I generously give you one month before you've failed as a teaching assistant, and fallen far behind in most if not all of your classes. I told the Headmaster I thought this was a bad idea from the start, but he insists on pandering to you.

"That is my opinion and I thank you for allowing me to state it openly in front of your two biggest fans. And why are you grinning at me like that?"

Harry smiled. He looked at Snape for ten long seconds without saying anything. Finally he said, "Thank you for your opinion, Professor. I needed to know what you thought for two reasons. First, as my most harsh critic, you would show me everywhere I need to be cautious.

"Second, your bias proved to me that I could do this. You think I have the ego that everyone else attributes to Draco Malfoy, and you think I have been spoiled as he was. Also, you ascribe to me his prejudices towards others and his inability to work with other houses.

"Since I am nothing like him, you have proven to me that I can manage in those areas satisfactorily. I've no experience leading Slytherins, but those of the other houses had no problem learning from me in the DA. And if my few minutes with Millicent Bulstrode is any indication, I am convinced I can work with the reasonable Slytherins as well. Nothing in Professor Dumbledore's charter for me says I have to like all students from every house.

"As to my personal studies, well you'll just have to see if my improvements over the summer help me. I know I can work with my Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions teachers. As to my new Defense professor, well, I have had bad Defense professors before and have survived. It remains to be seen if you can teach that course any better than you taught Potions. And before you accuse me of house bias, produce one non-Slytherin who thinks you unbiased and I'll apologize in front of the entire school for doubting your teaching abilities."

Harry turned to Professor Dumbledore. "I believe I can do this, if for no other reason than Professor Snape does not describe me at all in his reasons that I will fail. However, Headmaster, what assures me that I'll be treated properly as a teaching assistant by all of the staff of this school?"

Dumbledore glared harshly at Snape, but turned to Harry with a ready answer. He pointed at the staff handbook. "That book, Harry. We are all held to a code of conduct with each other. You will be bound by it if you agree to this, just like every staff member is bound to it. If you'd like to read it before you agree..."

"No, sir, I'm sure it will be adequate for my concerns, if it is good enough for you and the others. Does it tell me how all of us on the staff should treat the students as well?"

"Yes, Harry, it does, although, I will wave for you the rule restricting staff members from dating students. You live this summer in a monastery, but I do not expect you to be a monk." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

Harry frowned, "I have no time for such relationships, Professor, I have a job to do, but I thank you in advance for that wavier, just in case. Do I sign a contract, or how do I commit to this?"

"You do not sign a contract because I could not receive an official placement of a teaching assistant on the rolls of our staff with the Board of Governors for this year. They want the position to prove itself before doing so. I will take your word of honor."

Snape snorted again. Harry cut his eyes Snape's way. "I give my word, Professor. Thank you for accepting it. I hope to perform adequately compared to your present staff, most of whom I highly respect. And I think I'll do better than a few of them."

Dumbledore rose and shook his hand. "Welcome to the staff, Harry. We'll keep this a secret until the Welcoming Feast, although you may tell your closest friends if you like, as long as they are discrete."

"I don't know if I will, this is all so unexpected," said Harry. "But thanks for the permission."

They sat again. "Congratulations, Harry," said Lupin.

"Gentlemen, I address you now as your superior and you my staff members," Dumbledore said. "I must warn you three of something. The highest possibility of friction on the staff this year lies with the three of you. Harry, you started off our meeting well, but rose to Severus' baiting." He turned. "Severus, I am sorely disappointed in you for that display of malice. I will monitor your times together occasionally. Do not forget the students are our primary concern."

Snape just scowled, but Harry said, "I am sorry, Headmaster, no excuse. I'll try hard to do better."

"Thank you, Harry." Dumbledore then turned to see Snape glaring at Harry, who would not look at him. After a long few moments the head of Slytherin House realized Dumbledore was looking at him.

Snape said, "My apologies, Professor."

"Of course." Dumbledore looked at him for several additional long moments before saying, "Remus, Severus, as the two main Defense instructors for the standardized classes, please make a copy of your first term's lesson plans for each year and give them to Harry soonest. He needs to be at least familiar with what you plan to teach. Harry, as the most recent student among the four of us, please let these two know where teaching points in the past might have failed. Be judicious about this; it is the approved curriculum, not your marvelous Practical Defense coursework. They will do the same with your plans."

~*~

As the meeting was breaking up, the Floo fireplace flashed and they all heard, "Albus, do you know where Harry Potter is?' It was Madam Bones. "May I come through?"

"He is right here, Amelia. Please come."

She arrived in seconds and didn't even dust herself off. "Albus- Harr- You..." She stopped abruptly when she saw the other two. "I didn't know you had other guests."

She turned to Lupin and Snape. "Gentlemen, please forgive my rudeness, but I need to speak with Harry and the Headmaster most urgently."

Snape looked like he wanted to make a snide comment, but Remus expressed his understanding to Madam Bones as he shoved Snape out of the office.

The door closed and the head of Magical Law Enforcement turned. "Harry, I can't imagine you gave Ambassador Glean or Minister Fudge any additional instructions as Spell Monger to threaten the vampires, did you?"

"No, ma'am. We want peace as I understand it, and threats don't make for peace. Thunderfire is in and of itself a threat, but also something they know about and respect. It's not a new threat to deal with. Nothing else needs saying, does it?"

"No, Harry, and I couldn't imagine that you would have, but I had to ask."

"Amelia," Dumbledore asked concerned. "What happened?"

"Today Ambassador Glean allowed the talks to progress to the point where we were asked to produce your gift of Unfailing Light. Glean did so and told the vampire delegates that you had a message for all the vampires. He went into great detail about how you want all vampires dead and only are held back by the good graces of the British Ministry of Magic. He said that you insist that all vampires be registered and restricted to limited areas in the Urals Mountains, and they must check in monthly or be hunted like rabid dogs."

Harry was flabbergasted. "I'd... I'd never.... You must believe me. What happened?"

"I do believe you, Harry. And fortunately so did one other person in attendance today. The newly promoted head of the Bulgarian Auror Service, Konstatin Krum, had his son, Viktor, with him today. Viktor stepped forward and whispered furiously in his father's ear as Count Kldonovitch and Carver Glean yelled at each other. Konstatin spoke to Oblansk, and the Bulgarian Minister asked Viktor to tell the delegates what he'd told his father.

"Young Viktor stated that he knew you fairly well, and had competed against you in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He went on to say that you would have never said such things. Oblansk immediately asked Kldonovitch if your presence at the talks would allay his concerns that the Wizarding world was negotiating in good faith.

"I don't know who was angrier, Glean or Baron Rantor, head of the Princip Coven and leader of the vampire faction arguing for war. Well Oblansk and Kldonovitch agreed to postpone the deliberations until tonight so you could be summoned. I hate to ask you this, but could you come to the talks? You may be our only chance at peace."

Harry said to Dumbledore, "It appears that I must go, Professor. Will you come with me?"

The agony was clear on Dumbledore's face, but he soon said, "Of course, Harry. I am concerned about security though. When are we needed, Amelia?"

She looked at a watch pinned to the lapel of her robes. "At nine o'clock, Albus. You have just over four and a half hours. It's at Pont du Hoc on the Brittany coast. You can Apparate to the inn near the village and be conducted to the talks from there, or, knowing of your fondness for carriage rides, Albus, you can reach there in under two hours in your usual mode of transportation. I suggest you two wait and arrive just after half eight.

"As far as security goes, I'll have two squads of Aurors meet you here to travel with you and I will surround you both with Aurors as you enter and leave the talks. There will be a ring of them around you in the meeting room, and standing at your back while you are at the table negotiating..."

Harry stood and paced the open side of Dumbledore's desk away from the two. This caused the conversation to end as they stared at him. After roughly fifteen seconds of pacing, Harry returned to the two.

"Before we decide how many Aurors go where, let's look at a few ideas I picked up from reading about the vampires in Telemachus Grind's Journal. I'm sure the role of Spell Mongers in negotiations with vampires has been either misrepresented or forgotten all together in recorded history."

Harry looked at them, and Madam Bones as if this was a question. "Other than the importance of Thunderfire as a deterrent, and the gift of Unfailing Light as a token, I know nothing about Spell Mongers participating in such talks," she said.

Harry sighed. "Well, you'll just have to trust me on this, because I believe it's important. Telemachus Grind, who I know is recorded in our histories as Telemachus the Vile, wrote an entire chapter in his journal about the time he negotiated with the vampires, and about when Osbert Blacwin first negotiated with them when he created Thunderfire."

Harry paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and plunged ahead with an odd question. "What is the biggest thing we fear about vampires?"

"Being bitten," Madam Bones said after a moment.

Harry smiled. "Yes, but in the big picture, what frightens us?"

"War with them," Dumbledore stated. "Vampires out killing Muggles, drawing attention to our world, and biting wizards and witches to create new vampires."

"That's what Grind said, we fear them multiplying themselves. Now, what he observed is that if vampires wanted to take over, they'd start infecting witches and wizards left and right. They could easily triple their numbers in a week, and we'd probably not know it. How many vampires are there altogether, anyway? Do we have an idea?"

"Less than a thousand worldwide, we believe."

Harry said, "They could have ten thousand in a month, and a fifty thousand in six months. Why don't they? They could take over the world. What's stopping them? Surely it's not all our Aurors in Europe put together. Are there a thousand of them, two thousand? And how soon could we double that number?"

Dumbledore and Bones sat looking gob smacked.

Harry smiled once again and continued. "Telemachus Grind observed, and confirmed by talking to vampires, that they don't want a lot of other vampires around. They want a small, tightly controlled population.

"He wrote that they have money because they can take a long-term approach to investments, and they all help each other. They live a rich, opulent life in the shadows. They control their human blood consumption and supplement it with blood from various animals. According to Grind they are hedonists, gourmands, and sybarites; and yes, I had to look up those words. They are not driven only by blood, they just need it. They also like fine wines, good food, and the usual sensual pleasures." With this Harry stopped and blushed. The two with him chuckled.

"Grind said that they don't want to create too many new vampires because the increased population interrupts their pleasures. However, like any lustful creature, including man, vampires get antsy for action and feel they have to rattle our chains from time to time to confirm that they are being kept at bay.

"After a generation or two without war, humans forget how horrible it is. Vampires don't have new generations like that, so flair-ups occur every several hundred years. If we step up and remind them they need to stay peaceful, they'll realize war is too costly and interferes with their fun.

"After Voldemort and his forces bombed the different Auror organizations, the vampires found themselves without any real containing force to stop them, and this gave the younger, more war-like vampires a reason to rise up against us. It's like a wild animal living in captivity that eats better and lives better than it ever did in the wild. But open the gates, and it feels a self-destructive need to escape. That's exactly why Voldemort did this. It's also why he's stirring up the younger vampires. They don't remember the earlier wars."

Harry stopped and looked off once more. Then he said, "There's another factor Grind wrote about in that chapter. It's something we can use to our advantage with them. Because vampires can only be killed in a few ways, they compulsively dwell on those means of death. They keep a bell jar of the substance that can kill them, Thunderfire or the Unfailing Light, or their desks. They have wooden stakes placed in different parts of their homes and offices. Stakes used in the past to kill another vampire are particularly prized trinkets. After existing for hundreds of years, a vampire may long for death in some ways, even though he will never go without a fight. I think of their fascination with death as akin to playing Russian roulette. Are you two are familiar with the game?" They both nodded.

"Do we know the age of the vampire delegates?" Bones shook her head. Harry said, "I bet either one of them was alive back when Grind was around, or they have consulted with someone who was. That's why they asked for the Spell Monger. Kldonovitch knows that a proper threat of Thunderfire can calm things down in the covens. He can use us as a hammer against the others. He's called for me to confirm I am not a real threat so he can use the limited availability of Thunderfire to his advantage.

"Glean's threat of all Aurors in Europe having access to that charm, and the threat to take the vampires away from their vices and avarices, are the best way to stir up all the covens for war. It makes you wonder if Glean and Fudge are just monumentally stupid, or if one or both of them wants war. I have to assure the vampires that Thunderfire will be available, but only given to a limited number unless they cause war. Only then will I give it to everyone wanting it."

Harry stopped and pondered this without looking up. The other two present looked at each other with equal parts understanding and fear on their faces.

Harry went on. "I believe the vampires want to be able to trust us and return both sides to a status quo of guarded peace, at least Kldonovitch and whoever else is there, other than this Baron Ratner. If the vampires wanted war, they'd have given it to us before now. The last uprising was during your youth, right, Professor? Did they join Grindelwald, any of them?"

"One or two at most, and that may have been only rumors." Dumbledore offered.

"Telemachus said that vampires never want war. They just want to live their hedonistic lives in peace with little interference.

"Telemachus wrote that a proper threatening force that acts as a deterrent, but doesn't really threaten to attack them is what the vampires truly want. They want an easy justification to go about their self-centered lives and not feel really in danger. Sort of good fences make good neighbors in vampire thinking."

Harry paused, took another turn of the office and said, "The negotiations so far have pushed them to the brink of war. I can't show up as a scared teenager under heavy guard. I can't bring back a balance that way. I have to be a countering force of substance.

"Professor, are you known from your fight with the vampires in that last war, or will they only know you from the war with Grindelwald?"

Bones snorted this time and Dumbledore cut his eyes to her before simply saying to Harry, "They will probably know of me."

Harry looked into his eyes and said, "More I don't know about because of a poor history teacher."

There was nothing to say to this. Harry asked, "What are the sizes of the governmental delegations and what is the size of the vampire group?"

Bones looked confused slightly, but said, "Each government has eight to fifteen delegates, and they each have a number of bodyguards, Aurors, usually, to provide for individual security."

"And there are three vampires I bet, with no guards of any sort, right?" Harry asked. When she nodded he added, "And yet, they are the ones feared at the talks. They stand with aloofness bordering on arrogance, and you feel no safety with your security forces."

She gazed at him for a moment, and then she nodded once. Harry smiled a smile that didn't really reach his eyes. "They play the fearlessness game combined with their death wish, and they pull it off every time." He spoke as much to himself in confirmation of his suspicions as to the others.

Dumbledore said, "Harry, what do you propose and why?"

"I have to appear like more than a school boy. I have to be as fearless as the vampires; we must play their game," Harry said. The two others just stared at him. "I assume you have Aurors that are good on brooms. Are we going by Thestral coach, professor?"

"Yes, Harry, I thought it would be a comfortable manner of travel. We can easily talk while we go, and arriving in the Hogwarts coach is an impressive site. Those who can see the Thestrals and those who can't will add to the mystique of our arrival." His eyes twinkled. "But, I am most concerned about your safety as I said."

Harry ignored the last comment. "Sir, do you have a driver for the coach or do you just tell the Thestrals where you want to go and they go there?"

"Hagrid usually drives me unless it is a known route such as to our Ministry of Magic and back."

Harry continued, "Madam Bones, if we could have only two Aurors with brooms as outriders to warn us of any Death Eater attacks, that'll be all we need. The vampires won't attack us; it will still be daylight. We can Apparate away if there is danger. Have your Aurors warmly clothed and tell them to leave us when we have our destination in sight."

Harry turned and paced the office length once, returning to them in seconds. "We have to play the vampire's game; it will confuse the other delegates and delight the vampires. They don't trust any of you, no offence meant, ma'am."

"None taken, Harry," she said. Harry shook his head as if to clear his mind and continued, "We walk in alone, dressed in our finery, simple but elegant. You wear only black, unusual for you, Professor, and your Order of Merlin, but only the lapel pin, not the full sash. I'll wear a simple well tailored black dress robe I own, but open showing my utilities." He pointed to the rig he wore under the school robe, which was also unbuttoned. "I have a fancy version of what you see here. We portray elegance and danger, and a disregard for it all the same."

"It should be just the two of us, Professor. We need to make a statement with our entrance, so we arrive just a few minutes late. Madam Bones, you tell Kldonovitch we are in the building at 9:00, and that we will be there soon. Sit on Ambassador Glean if you must to keep him from antagonizing them any more because we are a little late. Get Krum and Oblansk to help if you can, but don't tell them what we are doing. They need to be surprised as well, I think."

Harry turned to Dumbledore. "We make the grand entrance sporting power and disinterest to a degree, with all but the vampires. You are the great Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, etcetera, and etcetera. I am the Boy-Who-Lived, the Defeater of Voldemort and the fearsome, reviled Spell Monger - the first of my kind in a thousand years."

"The thing is I am there only as the Spell Monger. Madam Bones, you introduce me as the Spell Monger, Harry Potter. But get me to the vampires as soon as possible. I don't want to slight anyone, but the vampires are why I'll be there, and I want them to know it. You just lead us, but we don't speak. Conferring with any one else before going to the vampires makes me a partner at best, or an underling at worst of whomever I speak with."

Harry paused, and then he said, "Hold it. I do want to slight Ambassador Glean. He's the one that caused this mess, and my slighting him will eloquently tell all there that he did not speak for me when he made his pronouncements."

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "Is it wise to provoke Minister Fudge more, by way of Glean? He doesn't like you, that is obvious to all."

"Exactly, Professor, he couldn't dislike me more, so it should be clear that I do not like him."

Harry stopped, made to turn and pace once more, but decided against it and said, "I supposedly have some popularity out there. Fudge and the Daily Prophet have done everything they can to discredit me, but I am sure they will do more. It's time to make any who can hear or see it realize that I dislike Fudge.

"I hate my popularity because of this scar, but I guess I can use it for our cause. I'm already considering using my name for business, so why not for politics?" Harry sighed. "I just hate this. None of it, the press, Fudge, the fans, the Spell Mongering issues... not even Voldemort - none of it is going away, so it's time to try to push back."

Harry succumbed to the desire to pace, and made two turns before he stopped. "Am I making sense with this approach to the vampires? Do you see it?" They just nodded once more.

Harry turned to Madam Bones. "Do we sign a treaty; take their word for it, what's the protocol?"

"Usually we reach a verbal agreement in such treaty negotiations, and then a scribe takes down the words from the chief delegates for both sides. They argue a bit over the parchment. They cross out a word here, add one there. On something this simple, it could just take minutes if someone with good sense is involved on all sides."

Harry asked, "If I can get the agreement I think we can achieve, can I ask the Professor here, as the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards to dictate the treaty with Count Kldonovitch? It would cut through the red tape and bureaucracy and get right to the meat of it. Would that cut out all the delegates trying to put their fingers in it, particularly Glean?"

She said, "It might work, Harry, if you act forcefully and if you, Albus, don't take a backseat for this."

Dumbledore said, "I agree that urgency for a treaty is paramount. I have no understanding as to why Glean, and Fudge by extension, want war with the vampires, but even they must see the provocation and insult in this."

Dumbledore sighed. "I try to remain in the shadows, or not even be present in such matters. I try to lead with moderation and consensus-building in the Wizengamot, but I can be forceful if need be, and this it the time to do so. If we can go straight to the issues, and if you are right about the vampires, Harry, and I suspect you are, then we will swiftly and forcefully bring about a peace treaty for all to sign. All of the governments there will look like they are a hindrance to world order if they oppose the same peace that has been acceptable for over a hundred years."

Bones looked again at her lapel watch. "It's now a little more than four hours until nine. I'll Floo back to the Ministry to make your arrangements, and Disapparate to Pont du Hoc. I'll assure Kldonovitch that you are coming to see him, Harry. Then and only then will I tell the assembly that you are coming. Your description of the vampires, self-destructive yet with a self-preserving vanity rings true to me. It's time to play up to it.

"I'll have two Aurors with fast brooms here by half six to escort your coach. I'll brief them myself as to their roles."

She smiled a genuine smile. "Gentlemen, for the first time today, I feel we are on to something that can succeed, as bizarre as I would have called it two hours ago. Good luck and God speed to us all." She Flooed away seconds later.

"Can Hagrid Apparate?"

"No. I'll create a Portkey for his escape just in case. Good thought there, Harry. I'll go now and arrange everything with him."

"Thank you, Professor. I need to go back to St. Simon's and do a quick bit of spell modification for a something I hope I won't need. I'll dress, and be at Hagrid's paddock before 6:30 at the latest. Oh, and I'll have Dobby fix us a picnic for the trip. I'd intended to invite you to dinner tonight at Greenbees, but that will have to be another time. I'll have a hamper for Hagrid as well - and bag meals for the Aurors."

"That's most thoughtful of you, Harry, thank you for both myself and them. Oh, and meet us in front of the school. When Hagrid brings up the Hogwarts coach, the creatures immediately come to that location to harness up. Amazing and smart, Thestrals are."

~*~

Harry walked down from the Headmaster's tower, and made his way to the corridor, which eventually led to the cabinet he used to travel to St. Simon's, his summer sanctuary. Entering a broad corridor intersection, Harry saw Hermione coming his way.

Hermione noticed Harry a split second later. She looked towards him a bit lustfully because of the aberrant potion, but stopped and shut her eyes for a long moment. Harry paused, not wanting to distract her and hoping she'd bring herself under control. Hermione opened her eyes momentarily and smiled a much eased but slightly cautious smile. They then approached each other carefully.

Harry decided right that moment to take control of the conversation so he might steer it away from her potion-induced fear for his wellbeing. "Hermione, you're looking well. Have you been tutoring someone?"

"Hello, Harry. Yes, I was tutoring Ginny, Colin, and Luna in Transfiguration. Dumbledore drafted the three of them earlier this summer to help with the Paladin visits, and as an incentive, he let them attend some of the tutorials. They've been very ambitious. They've participated in all of the exercising and have grounded themselves very well this summer for their O.W.L. year courses in all four core subjects."

Harry noticed that bringing up a neutral subject to discuss had worked to at least some degree. Hermione had lost the edgy look that was similar but not identical to the girls who threw themselves at him. All the girls were calming a good bit, but Harry was primarily concerned with the one before him.

"Would you like to chat a bit more about Spell Mongery, Harry? I don't have to be back for another hour."

Harry knew he did not have an hour, but his desire to spend time with Hermione was powerful, almost to the point of compulsion. Yet, he didn't want to cause her more worry. Harry needed a way to disengage quickly and not tell her of his mission for the night.

He stopped cold. He'd not mislead his best friend. That had been what Dumbledore had done to him by omission for most of last year. Only the truth would do for Hermione.

"Hermione, Fudge and his lackeys have messed up the negotiations with the vampires. I'm going to meet them as the new Spell Monger in hopes of getting the talks back on track. I will have to bluff them into thinking of me as more than a teenager, so I'm off to spruce up to look powerful and disinterested." He smirked at his self-assigned task.

Hermione looked frightened for just a second. Harry could easily tell, but she breathed in deeply and looked up at him. "You will look like a man of substance and power, mostly because you are a powerful wizard ready to take his place with the likes of Dumbledore some day." She reached out her hand as if to pat Harry's arm, or perhaps his chest, but she pulled it back quickly. A rapid succession of emotions played over her face and Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head.

Harry thought she looked just lovely. She wore a pair of black denims, and a white top under her open robes. Her hair was pulled back into a lose ponytail, and a few strands were free, caressing her neck. He was drawn to her neck and collarbone, wondering what she might taste like if her nibbled her right... there... just as her collarbone rose from her tennis shirt.

This temporary lapse of Harry's took less time than Hermione took to close her eyes and shake her head. By the time she reopened her eyes Harry was back on track, or mostly so.

"I know you're worried about me, Hermione, and not just because of your Aberration Day anomaly. You've always worried about me and looked out for me, and I've not thanked you enough."

Harry hesitated. He knew his emotions were not as in check as he'd like, but... "Hermione, you are my best and truest friend. Ron is my best mate and you two are my best friends, but you, Hermione, have never let me down. You've always believed in me, even when I've been a blockhead. The worst thing you ever did was tell McGonagall about my Firebolt, and even that was the right thing to do, and done only for my own good. I never really apologized to you properly for treating you poorly then, did I?"

"Oh, Harry..."

"Hermione," Harry decided to plunge ahead and either make things better than before, or break things again. "Hermione, I need your help. I find myself riding on a wild horse that is about to break into three or four more horses, all of which are going to try and buck me off."

She looked puzzled and he said, "Bad analogy. Hermione. This summer I've found out more about magic and how it works than I have in all the rest of my time here at Hogwarts. I can 'see' magic as it forms, merges, begins, and ends when I monger. You see, some of the things we've been told about magic, and some of the ways we've been told to do things, just aren't right. Oh, I mean that there is more to it than we've been-

"OH! Hermione, I can't really explain it well. Let's see." He paused and absentmindedly messed with the back of his hair.

"Here goes. You may not like this, and I can't really show you what I'm talking about at this time, so this is rather unfair to you, but, well..."

Harry stared into her deep brown eyes. She stared into his eyes of lively green. For a moment they seemed to be lost. He snapped back to what he was saying.

"You see, they introduce magic to us in a complex and confusing way. Take our first day of transfiguration, McGonagall morphs from a cat and then turns her desk into a pig. From there she tells us how dangerous transfiguration is and gives us half a scroll of complex notes. Then she hands us a match and says turn it into a pin. As I'm sure you remember, Hermione, no one succeeded at all that day except for you, and all you accomplished was to make your match slightly shiny and a little pointed. Through Spell Mongering I've discovered simpler ways to explain it and more logical things to practice on. I think it's important for students to experience success on their first day and there are much better and easier ways for first-years to learn their first spells and charms.

"And as we get older, we are never told how magic really works - not like I can see it working when I monger. It's actually so simple, but the formal ways of explaining it are so convoluted. You see, I believe that most of the spells and charms we use today are too complex and take too much energy to perform. We can all be a lot more powerful than we are."

Harry ran his hand through the front of his hair.

"Hermione, I need your help. I want to explore what I've discovered. I've begun my Spell Monger's Journal like Telemachus said I should, but that really only covers actual mongering notes and observations. I'm on to something much more, I don't know, much more profound and complex. The magical equivalent of Einstein's Unified Field Theory, do you know about that?"

She nodded and he said, "Of course you would, you're Hermione." He smiled and she blushed.

"I need your help, Hermione, and I need you to be willing to challenge much of the bedrock theory of magic you've read about in the past. But... it's just that... Hermione, it all makes better sense to me now. Oh! Have you ever read or studied physics, quantum physics exactly?"

She said, "When dad told me that you mentioned quantum physics, quantum mechanics were your exact words he said, well, I got a book on it.... Predictable, aren't I?"

"I'm with you now on that," he said. "Books open up so much more to me now that I read faster. But, as I was saying, magic and quantum mechanics work together. I can explain what happens with magic through the wilder theories of quantum mechanics, and I can use magic to actually demonstrate what quantum theorists only speculate."

He paused and looked into her eyes for a long moment; perhaps he looked too long or too deeply. "I want to record and catalogue everything I've discovered so far, and there is so much more to explore. I need to be systematic about it. I feel as though I've already lost track of some of my observations.

"Will you help me, Hermione? I'm going to make some of your books, our books, obsolete. I'm going to perturb McGonagall, perplex Flitwick, and definitely upset Vector and Ogham, the Runes professor. And I haven't even thought about how this might affect Potions. Can you stand to make teachers think we've gone mad, or worse, make them think we're attacking what they hold dearly true?"

"You want me to work with you, be your assistant rather in this, Harry?"

"Not an assistant, you'll be my partner. If we make a breakthrough you could be a famous lecturer and author, explaining to the world what we've done. Or we could be branded heretics, but we won't go public until we've proven all this and can demonstrate the truth of it. Then they can reject my work, but they won't do it by disproving what I say. They'll just be rejecting what upsets them."

Harry noticed there was hardly any hesitation before Hermione smiled and said, "I'd love to work with you. What you describe is thrilling. I've always admired groundbreaking scholars, Galileo, Newton, Copernicus, Einstein, and the like. They all shook up the science of their day, and what better way to shake up this society stuck on blood purity and house-elf enslavement, and yes, I know about Dobby and Winky. I'm glad they have a good master who refuses to be a master really, but more like a friend and benevolent employer. How can I start helping you?"

Harry looked at his watch. "I have to run to get back here to meet Dumbledore. Think about how we would go about systematically categorizing all the different important aspects and elements that make up a spell or a charm. Break down the major types of transfigurations, like going from animate to inanimate and back, and the differences between a transfiguration and a conjuration. Think about how you would catalogue all this.

"Do the same sort of thinking for charms, enchantments and the like. Just think about it. I'll find you tomorrow, or whenever I get back. I'm supposed to only be there tonight, but who knows how long this will really take."

He looked at his watch. "I do have to go now. Wish me luck."

Hermione lurched forward and gave him one of her trademark hugs, followed by a kiss on his cheek. "Take care, Harry. I'll be thinking about you all this evening until I go to sleep. I know you'll succeed. That's what you do, whatever has to be done. Do be careful."

Harry pondered how things might have been different if Hermione's kiss had been a few inches off of her intended target. "I will, Hermione. Try not to worry too much. They'll be plenty of Aurors there from different countries, and Dumbledore's going to sort of be my escort for the evening. What could go wrong?"

Harry left with a smile. After ten paces or so he turned back and waved to her before continuing on. Still smiling he thought, "What could go wrong indeed?"

~*~

Hermione's thoughts were wistful. "Harry's going off to confront vampires and try to stop a war. It's Harry. Anything and everything that can go wrong just might, and he'll still succeed, and come home wounded in who knows what ways."

Quietly she said, barely above a whisper, "Oh, God, please bring him back safely to me."

~*~

Harry made his way to the large clearing in the woods behind St Simon's where Fr. William Martin allowed him to monger spells. The previous evening, while it was still light, Harry had completed packaging the Thunderfire charm for sale at this location. He had three power settings, one for stunning vampires, one for causing serious damage, even killing those close enough to it, and a full attack setting, using as much power as the wizard or witch casting it could muster, to cause as much damage as possible.

However, Harry had decided at the end of his meeting with Madam Bones and Professor Dumbledore that it would be good to have a low powered, demonstration version of the charm that would only harm a vampire if he or she were very, very close. It would be a personal charm, one keyed to him only. Harry completed this modification in just a few minutes of mongering, and then he went to his room.

He chatted with Dobby about his wardrobe plans and food requirements, and the elf happily set to work to make food baskets for all involved, as gourmet as Greenbees itself might provide, according to Dobby, if they offered picnics. It amazed Harry how much house-elves spoke to each other between families and businesses passing along information to help each other serve more effectively. They did not gossip, but they were a knowledge source Harry respected.

Harry showered, put on his under clothing, and stared at the mirror. It was not a magical mirror. Since Aberration Day, he'd tried to shave only once every other day. Tomorrow would be the second day, but he felt shaving now would be proper. Magical shaving was much easier than the Muggle method, but it still took an effort Harry did not enjoy.

When shopping in Muggle London on the day he'd bought his watch, Harry had gone into a men's shop just out of curiosity. The haberdasher convinced him to buy silken boxer shorts, which he liked, and expensive calf-length nylon socks, which he didn't. Then the man made a major pitch for Harry to buy a hair care product called mousse. The man said that he himself had unruly hair and used the product, and Harry had liked what he saw on the chap. On a whim, Harry purchased the smallest container available.

Harry had tried several times to use the product, but all he'd succeeded in doing was make his hair stand up and/or stick out more, and look even more disorganized.

Staring back and forth between the mousse and the mirror, Harry thought about how he might use the foamy mess to help achieve the appearance of arrogance. As much as he hated the idea, tonight just might be the night to highlight, not hide his famous scar.

Harry had also thought recently about how he'd never had a haircut since his aunt had nearly scalped him at a tender age. He'd been experimenting lately with possible Metamorphmagus skills, and had accomplished nothing but lengthening and shortening his hair a small bit.

He close his eyes, visualized his hair in back down to his collar, and pulled up the slightest bit of raw magic from within, from the same source the slug of raw magic came from in Spell Mongering. His head tingled after a few seconds, and he opened his eyes.

His hair fell to his shoulders to the same length Lucius Malfoy wore his, although, Harry's hair was thicker and wavy. The wildness of his hair was controlled to a degree in that its weight at this length kept it from sticking out too much. Harry took a deep breath, scooped up a small blob of the mousse, and in a few minutes he had his hair sticking up in front in a coordinated manner. He didn't know if he had created a good look or not, but he realized wizards seemed to make their own styles and fashion statements. And Harry thought his attempt to feature his scar had succeeded.

He scowled in the mirror in a cross between a slightly softened Snape-esque frown and a Draco Malfoy smirk. I fight Dark Lords, don't mess with me. He decided he liked the look if he wanted to look unimpressed with everyone else, and smugly arrogant.

Harry put on the dressy battle utilities that Winky had made him. When Dobby had shown her what he'd sewn for Harry, she'd commented on how the rougher material would be functional in battle, but that for every day wear a softer, more fashionable material would serve. She'd made a pair, and they were there for him to wear. He put his six throwing knives in their slots, and was about to Disillusion them, but decided to leave their matte black handles visible.

Father William came in to inquire about Occlumency lessons that night, but stopped when he saw how Harry was attired. Harry told him of his mission. The priest volunteered to pray for his success, and told Harry that he'd enlist the prayers of those of the friary who knew of the magical world.

Harry didn't quite understand why this comforted him so, but every time Fr. William prayed, good seemed to come of it, and he wasn't stupid enough to turn down any help.

Harry had come to the conclusion that since there was Evil in the world, there had to be Good, and he was unwilling for that to be some mystical goodie-goodie force. Good and Evil had faces in this world, and Harry felt that these matters were personal - not personal meaning 'for each person to decide,' that was nonsense to him. It either was or wasn't true, and all his wishing wouldn't make Voldemort go away.

No, when he thought that Evil and Good were personal, he meant they were person-like, as if there were a God and a Devil. He viewed it not as simplistic or simple-minded, but simply, manifestly true.

Harry believed in magic, which most Muggles thought didn't exist. Why did it take so much more faith to believe that God or a Devil existed? He wasn't planning on going on a crusade for his beliefs, nor was he going to force others to believe as he did. He just believed. He had received too much comfort from reading the scriptures. Father William often quoted a passage, which said that faith came from hearing the Word of God, and Harry had found great peace reading about David, the boy who had defied all odds and defeated the giant.

It wasn't that Harry went looking for peace and found it, as in he manufactured it in his head when reading the book the priest gave him. No, he read the book and found that peace came to him unsolicited. If Father William wanted to pray for him, he was all for it.

Dobby agreed to bring the four various food containers when Harry called him. Dobby's attention to details meant that the picnics would, of course, be charmed to keep the hot food hot and the cold food cold.

~*~

Still ten minutes early by his watch, Harry made his way out of the front doors of the castle. Hagrid had two of the Thestrals present in harness, and six more were milling about, ready for him to hook them up. Harry offered his help, but Hagrid stated that Thestrals were tricky creatures to rig this way, and he'd just as soon do it himself, but he thanked Harry all the same.

Harry noticed two men he'd never seen before walking up from the main gates wearing Auror Blue dress uniforms. Each of them carried a Nimbus 2001 like they were experienced flyers. One looked to Harry to be somewhere in his late forties, and the other was late thirties perhaps, or early forties. The elder of the two addressed him.

"Spell Monger Potter," he said formally, but Harry could not detect any typical Fudge Ministry malice. "I am Senior Auror Bentley Johnson, and this is Auror Samuel Freezemore. We're from the Flying Squad."

The two bowed and Harry moved forward to shake their hands. He said, "Please call me Harry, gentlemen, and thank you for your help on such short notice."

Johnson said, "No, sir, Spell Monger. Madam Bones explained the circumstances. We will remain rigidly proper at all times until you and the Headmaster are delivered back here safely in the near future. We understand your formal role in this and will play our parts to the last measure. Know however, we will let you arrive as you wish, but we will make our way to the deliberations chamber as soon as possible. We have her specific orders that we work for you this trip, and take your orders first. We will be out of the way and not near enough to you to appear as part of your entourage, but know we are your men this night, just in case."

Freezemore stepped forward and added, "We both knew your father in the Auror Corps, and I even knew him a bit here at Hogwarts. He was three years behind me. I was a Hufflepuff Beater his first two years as Chaser for Gryffindor. We've talked to Tonks and Shacklebolt. Please understand, Spell Monger, that not all Aurors are like Dawlish and Williamson."

Harry thought he saw a message, perhaps a request, in both men's eyes telling him they disagreed with the current administration. He instantly chose to see these two as allies in this struggle and those to come.

Hesitantly he said, "Er, gentlemen. I thank you again for your service this evening, and your remembrance of my father. I look forward to less formal conversations in the future."

Both men stood to attention and clicked their heels together in unison.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Dumbledore exit the castle. He noticed Hagrid had four more Thestrals to hitch. Harry stepped back from the two Aurors. He drew one of his wands, described a square in the air, and called, "Dobby."

In three seconds the house-elf appeared, heavily laden with two wicker baskets of food, and two smaller bags as well. "Gentlemen, this is Dobby, my friend and chief of staff of House Potter." Dobby beamed at this declaration. Harry continued, "I doubt you've had time to eat this evening, and since it's half six, and we will be in the air for at least two hours, I asked Dobby to prepare meals for you that you can eat in flight whenever you chose." The Aurors seemed genuinely touched that Harry had thought of their comforts for the trip.

Dumbledore walked over and the Aurors, sticking to their efforts to be formal, stepped back so Harry and the ancient could hold a private discussion if they chose.

"You look dashing and dangerous, Harry. Appropriate for our task this evening. Hagrid assures me we will be airborne in five minutes."

"Thank you, Professor, you should wear black more often, it becomes you." They both smiled.

"Headmaster, standing here and thinking about magical transportation has brought to mind a question I have for you. Hermione has a birthday in mid-September, and she's the first friend of mine to come of age. She asked if I'd help her learn to Apparate at that time. She's checked out a book from the library on the matter that Madame Pince said was the best on the subject, Apparation, by a Quentin Cooper."

"Yes, Harry, that is probably the finest work on the matter. As a skilled practitioner of that mode of transportation, there is nothing I think you can learn from that book, but as a Spell Monger, if you want to study the theory of it, there is little else to consult."

"I may read it for that," Harry said, "But my question has to do with the word, 'Apparation.' You say 'App-a-RA-tion' and so does everyone else I know, but I noticed the official written test used the word, "App-a-RI-tion, spelled with an 'I,' and the free Ministry booklet there spelled it that way. I always thought an apparition was a ghost. Isn't that confusing?"

"Ah, yes, more bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo. The Ministry Arithmantic Spell Crafters developed Apparation. They started work on it in the late fourteen hundreds, and finally succeeded in the early seventeenth century - over a hundred years of research. For another hundred years or so it was used here in Great Britain only for short distances, a few miles at most. The Floo Network was in place and distance travel by Apparating was just never considered, I believe.

"Well, in the late sixteen hundreds, Quentin Cooper was a member of the first group of four witches and wizards that went to the American colonies as they were known at the time. There were no Floos there of course, and the distances of that continent are daunting in comparison to our island home. You might think that a Ravenclaw would write such a scholarly treatise, but Cooper was a Gryffindor, and quite the intellectual. When you meet the Americans coming to join the Paladin Program this September, you'll find they ascribe different characteristics to their houses than we do, yet attribute them to the same house names we use. For example, the Gryffindors are the studious ones.

"In addition to his book on Apparation, Quentin Cooper wrote the defining work on Portkeys, which the Americans also use extensively. That second book is in the Restricted Section because Portkey production is strictly regulated here in Great Britain."

Harry nodded. He wished for a moment that Dumbledore, not Binns taught History of Magic. He wondered what else he didn't know he did not know.

"The change from 'App-a-RA-tion' to 'App-a-RI-tion' started after the war with Grindelwald, but wasn't voted on by the Wizengamot until 1978. A number of Americans came here to England during that war when we were sorely pressed. Those early volunteers helped us hold on during the darkest days. When the magicals of that nation formally declared war on Grindelwald, they poured manpower and materiel into our efforts. Truly, one of the top factors enabling us to survive and to eventually stop Grindelwald was their help. I ultimately defeated him, but they made it possible to reach that point.

"Don't misunderstand me, Harry. I believe we could have won eventually without their help, but it was by no means a sure thing. And their assistance saved many lives and cut short that war by years.

"Many here in our country did not like them, and frankly the 'Yanks,' as the British Muggles called them were not all perfect diplomats. After the war, and after the Americans went home, a backlash started to eradicate their cultural influences, even those not distasteful. 'Apparation with an 'A' was deemed an American term, and so Apparition with an 'I' has come into governmental use. I, most of the staff, and your parent's generation were trained in Apparation using the word with the "A," and so old habits die hard."

"I read the Ministry booklet, sir," Harry said, "Which I found did not really describe what I experience when Apparating, but it did not change the words 'Apparate' and Disapparate to 'App-a-RITE' or "Dis-app-a-RITE,' and it was still 'App-a-RA-ting.'"

Harry added, "In the English language it's 'educate' and 'education,' 'operate' and 'operation,' and 'articulate' and 'articulation,' just to name many such derivatives. Isn't 'App-a-RI-tion' just a MIS-art-i-cu-LA-tion?"

Dumbledore simply shrugged his shoulders. "I cannot shed any light on how some Ministry agencies make their decisions."

Harry was about to ask if the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot couldn't understand, how could anyone, but just then Hagrid walked over, his harnessing complete. Harry quickly chose to end the confusing conversation, and gave Hagrid his hamper of food for the trip.

Hagrid said, "Thank you, 'arry, and don't you look the dapper sort." He looked at the two Aurors so formally dressed and Dumbledore all in black with his Order of Merlin pin. Hagrid straightened up. "Er, sorry." From somewhere he pulled an ancient stovepipe hat out of his coat and placed it on his head. He said, "Spell Monger Potter, sir, yon carriage awaits!" And then he took his hat off in a clumsy, formal bow.

Dumbledore pulled out his watch and spoke up so the Aurors could hear also, "Gentlemen. In three minutes a window in the Hogwarts' wards will open." The Aurors walked over to them and the headmaster continued, "It will shut as we leave. We should mount up. You two on the brooms just sit up top with Hagrid until we are through the wards. Then, I believe you can take off from there."

It was just over three minutes later that Harry felt their passage through the wards. There was no physical feeling, no bump or shaking of the magnificent Hogwarts carriage, but he felt the magic of it. Dumbledore had been watching him closely, and noticed when he noticed.

"You felt that, didn't you, Harry?" After a nod from his companion the headmaster continued, "It is an extremely rare ability to feel a ward when you pass through an opening in it. You, however, felt the wards on all sides of the temporary portal. If you were trying to pass through the wards themselves at that point, you would feel them tossing you back out. Only at the front gate do you pass through without feeling them, but they detect and report to me all those who do so and are not currently students.

"Before this summer you were well on your way to becoming a powerful wizard, so you might have felt them anyway. But the Paladin Program and your Spell Mongering have no doubt increased many fold your sensitivity to such things. I would venture that one percent perhaps of all wizards and witches can feel the wards as you just did. Does that bother you?"

"What? Being in that one percent?" Receiving a nod Harry answered. "It's just one more thing, Professor. I've abandoned any aspiration to be normal. I can't seem to turn around without doing something that marvels or frightens people, so I decided earlier this summer in all that deep long-term thinking I was doing that I'd just go forward regardless.

"I have a few good friends. There are others that are sort of my friends. I will meet more people as I fight in this war. I'll either be a hero or a villain when it's all over. If a villain, I'll disappear into some other part of the world or into the Muggle world if all magical people hate me.

"If I'm a hero it might be worse than leaving this world. The-Boy-Who-Lived is bad enough. The-Final-Victor or some other such poppycock will be just too much to bear. I truly hate it, but I've not been able to shake it so far. It won't get any better, will it?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry," Dumbledore said. "But please tell me, why do you think you might be a villain of some sort, when you win?"

"In a word - Fudge. I win the Tri-Wizard Tournament and he says that I'm unstable. I fight Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries and he says that I'm delusional a month after he admits Tom's alive. I train students to do the Patronus and he gives Umbridge the credit. I become a Spell Monger and he wants me locked up."

Harry looked at the Headmaster. "He wanted me arrested, or something for killing those Death Eaters, didn't he?" Dumbledore nodded sadly. Harry continued, "So, I kill Riddle and let's say I have to use the Killing Curse. You know Fudge'll try to put me in Azkaban, don't you? And with the Daily Prophet spouting the solid Fudge line everyday, I'll never get a fair shake in popular opinion. And what's to stop him from stacking a Wizengamot trial against me more effectively than he did last summer?"

Harry snorted a bit. "No, sir. When I defeat Riddle, I'll fare no better unless something changes. I just don't know what."

Harry looked out the window at the Scottish scenery passing below. "Disillusionments on the coach? No, a charm..." His wand shot out of his right holster, and he waved it in the air and mumbled an incantation. Harry closed his eyes for a second and looked out again with a slightly dilated look. "Er... ahhh," he smiled. "A combination of a Transfiguration spell to make the air around the coach more substantial, and then a complex charm allowing the image one would see if looking through the space where the coach is, to be seen on the other side. Why not just Disillusionment?"

"Very good, Harry. Actually, we are too big and have too much metal in the framework of this old rig for a simple Disillusionment spell, which only visually masks our presence. This combination of magic makes us impervious to Muggle RDF, what I think they now call radar. During the Grindelwald war a British night fighter aeroplane almost collided with this coach. The fighter ground handlers sent it our way when they identified its metal signature. The pilot could not see the coach, but the aeroplane moved at such speed that a Muggle Repelling charm had no effect. The near miss greatly distressed Headmaster Dippert. I was assigned to come up with a solution. This spell combination was it.

"By hardening the air around the coach so to speak, the radio direction finding beams are bent around us and do not return a signature to the detectors. You can't attach a Disillusionment spell to the hardened air. The charm passing the view from the other side attaches readily enough and does render us completely invisible."

Harry said, "And I guess the goggles the Aurors are wearing allow them to see us. Their Disillusionments are weakened a bit in the wind, but not too bad. That's how we keep track of them."

Harry stopped and looked outside at the spells for several seconds concentrating on the coach again. "The runes are doing nothing for you, Professor. They add a permanence that is important in terms of location, but since we're moving, they just add drag to the spell. You have to renew it every, oh, twenty minutes or so, right?"

"Every fifteen minutes just to be safe. I have to do it now as a matter of fact." Dumbledore drew his wand and performed the two spells in quick succession. He said, "Adding personal power doesn't help it last longer, but it's not draining to perform, at least not for me. It's just irritating to have to remember so often."

Harry said, "It wouldn't be good mongering practice to work on it here, but I could strip out the useless runes, and make it so your personal power would affect longevity. The Image Projecting charm or whatever it's called wears out because the spell hardening the air around it dissipates quickly, and the projecting charm degrades from the inside. With your strength it should go a minimum of several hours, but that's a guess. Existing Spell Mongering analytical tools don't tell me about such details on non-Mongered spell work, and I haven't had time or the inspiration to make new tools to analyze more modern spells like that."

Harry turned back to him and smiled. "I'll work on it when we're back home. Perhaps next trip you can forget about the renewing those spells so often. And if I can fabricate my character set, I can make it something that sticks permanently to the coach with a magical on-off switch so to speak."

"Your character set?"

"Yes, Professor. Ancient Runes have three basic uses in our world, as you know. They are historical in that they can record history, and they can also be historically prophetic or predictive. Second, they can be used in anchoring items, such as tying wards to a location. The third use is in actual magical applications such as the enchantment of existing items, and adding permanence to conjured and transfigured things, or such.

Well, I have two problems with runes used in magic as it is today. First, they put runes in every spell, even when they aren't needed. In a Battle Barrier spell, the time a barrier is needed is minutes, a half-hour at most. The ability to withstand a curse or hex is not related to the runes. Stripping the runes out of it completely causes it to be much easier to cast, less draining, and simpler for lower-power witches and wizards. I won't even mention how the unnecessary Arithmancy complicates matters.

"The second problem is that when runes are needed in a spell, they are entirely too complex, in what I've seen at least. I looked at the guts of a very basic warding spell, the charm to keep a personal diary private. All it really needs from the runes to make the secrecy permanent is something like, 'Only I can open this,' with a link to the blood access module of the magic. However, there are fifty-three runes arranged in a four by three matrix to accomplish that, with several just hanging on. It's like the Arithmantic Spell Crafters and their runes experts have a mutual agreement with the Guild of Bookbinders to keep the Guild's ability to make such private journals only accessible to those who buy the charmed books from them.

"It reminds me of some of the terrible things Uncle Vernon says about trade unions. I know the workers were being abused a hundred years ago or so, and needed to work together for decent wages and safe conditions, but he mentioned how the unions now are stopping Grunnings from being competitive. The workers at his factory asked for pay raises when they were already better paid than most in that industry. Then Grunnings lost three big contracts that year, and had to fire three hundred workers. I'm sure those families without income are glad that those still with jobs are being better paid than any other drill workers in the country." The sarcasm was evident in Harry's last words.

"Anyway, I've just decided that since the actual words of a spell don't make any difference to the magic itself, then it makes sense to me that the actual rune characters don't make any difference either. It's only important that the characters make sense to me, the creator of the spell, and accomplish what I want."

Harry smiled, anticipating the impact of his next words. "Magic isn't as rigidly like what we've been taught, Professor. It's much more flexible and open to do what we want. WE are the limitations on magic, and not just our own personal power limitations. WE restrict ourselves."

Harry grinned and continued, "So, I've assigned myself the project of finding a streamlined set of characters that do what runes do, without the limitations or power draining aspects of existing runes."

With this bombshell Harry fully turned Dumbledore's way and said, "I've already started deconstructing most of the spells I use to get rid of most Arithmantic formulas. The math's too complex. I've mongered the Arrow Shooting spell to shoot five arrows at a time. There's an old spell in the books from over six hundred years ago to shoot out three arrows at once. The Arithmancy for it is a formula with forty-three numbers and symbols in it. It was abandoned, I think because it takes entirely too much power to use it. The rudimentary Monger's analysis tool says that the three-arrow-version takes over fourteen times the personal magical energy to shoot three than one. Do you know how I got my version to shoot five arrows?"

After a second Dumbledore shook his head in a stunned manner.

"I chose a character that looks like a tic-tac-toe box, do you know the Muggle game?"

"It's a magical children's game, too, Harry," the Headmaster said.

Harry said, "Well, I just decided that symbol would be an anchor symbol, tying the calculation to the spell. Then I simply added 'times five' to it." Harry shot his wand out of its holster and wrote in smoke characters in the air of the coach:

"Those three characters replaced forty-three symbols in the Crafter's Three Arrow spell. And I can barely feel a difference in power drain to shoot five arrows instead of one. I stopped at five because after five, the arrows coming out lose accuracy." Harry stopped and looked at his mentor. The young man had a look on his face that seemed to search for the older man's reaction to this bit of information.

"Now, if I could determine a way to shoot out arrows in another direction, and then the arrows come at my target from the side fifteen or twenty seconds later, that would be worth the Arithmantic and Runic drag of a complex spell. However, as it would be currently configured by the Spell Crafters, you and I together couldn't cast such a spell created with standard methods."

After several long moments Dumbledore said, "Remus told me that you and your Spell Mongery were amazing. What you tell me is just that. Your guardian did say that I should see this, or at least attempt to see it, as he told me that not all can. Two of our school founders couldn't see it, it seems."

"Yes, sir. It is probably best that you attempt to see a demonstration. A picture is worth a thousand Galleons." He paused and said, "Are you hungry? I only had a light lunch."

While they ate Harry asked about any times Dumbledore had negotiated with vampires in the past. The Headmaster stated that he had not done much, other than being present at an armistice signing before the official peace talks for the vampire war he had fought in right out of Hogwarts. He'd made a slight name for himself as a fighter and was much taller than any of the negotiators or officers at the signing. At the last minute they asked him to go and stand around looking menacing. "We'd won this war, for the most part, and the vampires had asked for the peace talks. We'd destroyed many of their grander homes and pleasure resorts, so they were ready to sue for peace."

Dumbledore looked out into nothingness for a second and said, "Telemachus Grind's observations about their comforts and their desire to play loose with their lives were still accurate over a hundred and thirty years ago based on my limited observations. So tonight we do not go in with this approach without some more recent indications that it rings true."

Harry asked about the fighting and the peace talks from Dumbledore's many conflicts from over a century of service. Like most warriors, Dumbledore did not want to discuss the actual fighting, and Harry had asked about it positing the question stating, "I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it. I know I'd rather not discuss the fights I've been in."

They did however talk generally about the ways the wars differed and how they were similar - over all strategies, differences in the enemies' tactics, and such.

Dumbledore cleared his throat signaling a change in subject. "We have just less than thirty minutes before time for the talks to resume, and about twenty minutes before we arrive, if I judge the coast line properly. I want to tell you something, briefly touching on the issues for which you forgave me - regarding your bad time with the Dursleys and with Professor Snape."

"There's no need, Prof-"

Dumbledore held up his hand. "You were right, I cannot explain them and I am more grateful than I can express for your kind forgiveness. But I do want to tell of one set of experiences from the Grindelwald war that relates to this in an odd manner, shall we say."

The older man looked his age for the next few minutes. "The year the basilisk killed Myrtle, after Tom Riddle finished Hogwarts that spring of 1943, I also left Hogwarts to go fight the war full time.

"Some Grindelwald supporters who had remained inactive here in England finally rose up and attacked at several key places. Nearly a hundred witches and wizards, including children died in the attacks before we stopped them. The attackers were all members of a pureblood association that had seemed harmless before. Over one hundred and thirty other members of that organization remained alive, and had not risen up in butchery.

"Several school friends of mine were in that group, but my wife had been killed by them, as had the families of a number of other prominent anti-Grindelwalders. I did not initiate the idea of imprisoning these people, but I carried out many of the roundup raids to take them and their families off to an internment camp on an island in the North Sea. It was not Azkaban, no dementors, but not much more hospitable.

"I promptly forgot about them until after I recovered from the wounds from my final battle. It was in September of 1945, with a shiny new Order of Merlin First Class in my bag, that I went to that island." Dumbledore stopped for a moment and squeezed his nose at his eyes.

"I found that of the three hundred and fifty-two people imprisoned there, all of the children under the age of seven, all but nine of those under the age of seventeen, and seventy-four others left there to rot, had died of disease, depredation, or malnutrition.

"That was a terrible tragedy. It pierced me that all four of my friends and all their family members had perished. To my personal horror I found that these four friends had kept journals and had willed them to me. I could do no less than read them. They very frankly catalogued every act of degradation, every illness, and every slow and painful death. They never accused me of anything, but it would have been a mercy if they had. I accuse myself even to this day of more than their deaths. Had I been more believing in their innocence, I might have spared them that end."

Dumbledore looked Harry straight in the eyes. "Harry, this was the final assault on my mind of the horrors of war - I had bottled up all of the traumatic experiences of my war and suppressed them in my subconscious. When I finished reading the last journal left to me, I went mad for nearly a week. I spent more than a month in St. Mungo's recovering."

A look of shock displayed itself on Harry's face.

"I recovered because a psychological medi-wizard helped me construct a strong wall of blind trust in 'the goodness of man.' I could not leave until I had erected an almost irrationally strong system of beliefs enabling me to always see the good in everyone - everyone, apparently even when the good was not there.

"I believed in the good in Mundungus Fletcher, which is there, but I refused to see his thieving until I caught him doing it myself. I tell you now that Severus Snape is on our side, but I refused to see his unacceptable treatment of you and others until you stuck my long, crooked nose in it." He smiled at this and continued. "And I could not believe anyone would treat a small child like the Dursleys treated you, so I did not check. And a bit of my madness it seems, refused to let me see the evidence of bad treatment you displayed every September first.

"Now, I believe I have learned what I hope will be the last lesson from that prison island." The old man had aged noticeably in the last minutes.

"Possibly two of my four friends could have done something pro-Grindelwald before imprisonment; the other two never would have. They should have been individually judged and given Veritaserum at the time right after the attacks, not imprisoned wholesale as a group. Another lesson I recently learned from you is that along with those imprisoned there, the camp guards and the chief warden should have been inspected regularly. I was delighted when a strict disciplinarian with family also killed in the raids was appointed to the prison as warden."

A tear slowly made its way down his cheek. "And in like manner I left you to the tender mercies of your aunt, uncle, and a Potions master, all of whom had reason to hate you.

"You gave me your forgiveness and I knew when you gave it, it was sincere. I do not deserve it, and I know of no way to make it up to you. You were right, there is nothing to say other than to tender my most sincere and most useless apologies."

The professor sighed. "I tell you that your Headmaster is a bit mad, just as Percy Weasley told you on your first night at Hogwarts. I was to be made Headmaster in 1946, but my bout with insanity kept me from that post until the last member of the Board of Governors who'd been on hand in 1945, left the Board in 1968. In December 1970, I was unanimously chosen by the Board to take the headmaster's position, and did so at the end of school year in the spring of 1971."

After a very long pause he said, "My boy, I will need you to watch over me for my remaining years. You see, I will be incapable of rational decision-making where you are concerned. I will attempt to spoil you, then overly protect you, and then give you too much freedom to do as you will. You ask for a partnership; I give it to you, but you must be careful of what you request. I will most probably give you that which you seek, even if I feel it is not good for you. I'll just do it. I am undone in regards to you. My failure stands in stark contrast to your successes. I ask that you seek the counsel of Miss Granger or Professor McGonagall before making an irregular request of me, for I have no objectivity now when it comes to you.

"Take this venture to meet the vampires. For half an hour while we were apart I felt sure I should not allow you to go, for your safety. Then, I realized that you are the only hope, and I was ready to allow you to go alone, knowing you would succeed as you always have. Now, I believe I am in my right mind about you on this matter at least. You are most assuredly our best hope, yet it is not clear you should be risked so. But I know you are now on a mission, a peace mission. You may not have another such mission for years to come. I want you to have some chance to stop a war, since all you've seen so far, and will probably only see for the near future, is more and more violence."

Harry sat there stunned. A banging from Hagrid interrupted the moment. Suddenly Dumbledore was back to being the cool, collected 'greatest, wisest wizard alive.'

"That signal, Harry, tells us that we are three or four minutes out. Do you have any additional ideas, or does the Spell Monger go in all arrogant and self-assured, with the Grand Mugwump at his side?" His eyes twinkled. And all of a sudden it seemed apparent that the old Headmaster was back.

"No. Professor, we go in and wait near the meeting chamber. We arrive a few minutes before nine o'clock, and I hope to show myself confident to the point of disdain for all but the vampires, and with Ambassador Glean present my disdain will be most genuine.

"I go straight to Count Kldonovitch and start by offering my friendship as Spell Monger. All the time I stand there ready to burn them alive, er dead, as it seems. I ask for a return to the way things were, with a slightly veiled threat to get them to return to a peaceful status. What's the phrase - 'return to status quo ante?'"

"That is the expression indeed, Harry. You have developed quite the vocabulary this summer."

~*~

Pont du Hoc is a large stone mass jutting jaggedly straight up more than one hundred feet above one of the non-descript beaches on the Normandy coast. In Muggle history it had one day of fame. On July 6, 1944, it was the gun emplacement Allies' most feared in the D-Day invasion landings. A special assault force of American Rangers trained for months to scale those heights and knock out those guns before the invasion beaches were destroyed.

Against all odds, the Rangers succeeded, facing withering opposition, only to find that there were not, and had never been any guns in the facilities.

Muggle history cannot tell us why this was a more valuable war victory than a mere blocking action to prevent the guns from being hastily brought into action. In fact, the location had originally been prepared to amplify the psychic mind reading abilities of Grindelwald's top twelve Seers. The cavern the Allies thought of as a huge gun emplacement had been carved from stone and magically enlarged to provide a 'listening chamber' for the Seers, to read the thoughts of those in charge of the Allied Magical Forces to inform Grindelwald of their plans, and to read the minds of SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Forces) leaders - the ones planning the Muggle invasion.

The night all twelve Seers first arrived and planned to begin 'tuning in,' was the first night the British Mosquitoes, low flying precision bombers, dropped a load of highly explosive, deep penetration bombs throughout the facility. The twelve Seers were all killed with the first bomb. Otherwise they would have Disapparated away. The bombers came in below Pont du Hoc and rose up at the last second to sling their bombs straight through the small horizontal openings. To this day, Muggles think these air attacks were ineffective.

In typical fashion Grindelwald did not inform the Muggle German forces that the facility no longer served his purpose, so they doggedly guarded it until driven off on that invasion morning. The uninstalled 155mm guns that the Rangers found nearby had only been placed to support the Seers' defenses.

~*~

Since that war, Pont du Hoc had served on several occasions as a place to hold Wizarding political negotiations. Its creation as a place to amplify the abilities of Seers, also heightened the senses of any who entered the great chamber. Everyone felt more conscious of his or her surroundings and more attuned to the concerns of those around them.

It is a rare event in history when politicians, Muggle or magical, actively seek to be more aware of their opponents' sensibilities. As to whether it truly worked in this capacity is anyone's guess, but all felt like it did, so....

On this day in August, 1996, when the natural stone edifice came into view, the two Aurors peeled off to allow the Hogwarts coach to arrive 'unescorted.' The Aurors then arrived five minutes later and surreptitiously positioned themselves where they could act on Spell Monger Potter's orders if needed.

The coach arrived to little fanfare from other delegates, but rest assured, the major players in this night's drama were aware of their presence.

Hagrid just sat there. No one moved from within the coach and no one approached it. With two minutes to go before the appointed hour, Hagrid, spryly for one his size, jumped down and opened the coach door.

Dumbledore exited the coach and stood there waiting for his companion. The charade of the powerful Spell Monger needed to be played. Harry came to the door of the coach and stood glancing around with a look of disdain on his face. Slowly he descended and thanked Hagrid, who couldn't help winking at his best student friend and whispered, "Good luck."

The official appointed to bring them to the main chamber scurried up. He wore the robes of a minor British Ministry of Magic functionary, and spoke directly to Dumbledore in a fussy, presumptive tone, "You are late, Headmaster, Minister Fudge is not pleased. If you will, er..."

Dumbledore stood there ignoring the man. The headmaster looked to Harry, who waited for the lackey to turn his way. Finally the man looked at the younger wizard.

I am Spell Monger Potter." His voice sounded not too far from the snarkiness of Snape addressing a Gryffindor who had just melted a cauldron. "I am the one invited here for these negotiations. Now, I've politely introduced myself. Isn't it time for you to use your manners, assuming you possess them?"

Harry's eyes shimmered with indignant green-ness. There was a slight feel of static electricity in the air. A breeze no one felt stirred his robes, giving him an added air of authority and power. The minion visibly shrank an inch or two under Harry's withering stare. He stuttered his apologies and gave his name as Terwilliger.

"Well, Mr. Terwilliger, Professor Dumbledore is here tonight to assist me in these negotiations. Before we proceed, I understand Count Kldonovitch of the Vlad Coven leads the vampire delegates, and Baron Ratner of the Princip Coven is here as well. Who else is a part of their delegation?"

"Er, that is, Minister Fudge wants to brief you on your role-"

Harry's anger clearly showed itself. "Fudge and his heavy-handed machinations are why I am here tonight. Answer my questions or go tell the vampires why I have returned to England." His eyes were even more intense. The unfelt breeze once again ruffled his robes.

Terwilliger actually shivered, though it was a warm, almost balmy night. "Er... that is to say, yes... yes, Count Pavel Kldonovitch and Baron Sergei Ratner are present. The Count indeed leads the delegation and primarily consults with the Graf Hans-Joachin Soderberg of the Wittgenstein Coven. Baron Ratner seems, well, he seems rather put out to be here, and speaks only when spoken to, which he rarely is, and then he speaks as briefly as possible."

"Very good, Mr. Terwilliger, what other useful information do you have for me?"

The man squirmed before Harry's blistering gaze. "But, but Minister Fudge-"

"...is not a part of my plans this evening." Harry said coldly. "You can help or not, but I will remember you one way or the other. Are there any other vampires?"

"Er, none, not even body guards. They are most frightful. They obviously do not care about the outcome of these talks, and seem to only be here to humor us. That's why, I believe, Ambassador Glean threatened them, which was, in hindsight, counterproductive."

Harry looked at Dumbledore. They shared a knowing look. Harry asked, "What else, Terwilliger?"

"Well, the only ones who seem to command any respect from the vampires are Acting Minister Oblansk of Bulgaria, and the Acting Head of the Bulgarian Aurors, Mr. Krum. Of course, Baron Ratner pays little heed to anyone." Terwilliger warmed to his part as chronicler of the personalities of the talks. Soon, he devolved into gossip about sniping and slights among the undersecretaries of his ilk.

Harry interrupted. "That is enough for now. Please lead me to the chamber and halt at the door. Do not lead me to them or anyone else. Leave us unless I call for you."

"But Minister Fudge-" Terwilliger whined.

"...is not a part of the solution tonight, Terwilliger. Look into my eyes. I know exactly what I am doing. I have one chance to fix these problems. If I fail, you may find your neck bleeding soon." The little man shivered again. "Now, do as I say. Lead the way."

As they walked slowly, Terwilliger twice scurried ahead too far, and stopped for them to catch up. Harry appeared to be in no rush, even though Terwilliger looked at his watch constantly. As they walked, Dumbledore bent over to mutter to Harry, "You will have to tell me about the charm to make your robes flutter behind you?"

"Of course, Professor," Harry said, cracking the first smile he'd had since exiting the coach.

The entrance came into view, and as they neared Madam Bones approached the two. She said nothing openly, and the three looked into the room. She spoke surreptitiously from the side of her mouth. "Harry, I have told the Count you are here to meet him alone, and I told him you are quite displeased with your misrepresentation thus far by our government. He thanked me sincerely and gave a rare smile to Soderberg, and a smirk to Ratner."

"Thank you, now," Harry spoke while not looking at Bones. "Please leave me. As much as I respect you, I must distance myself from our government."

"I understand. Fudge won't like it, but I understand. Freezemore and Johnson, your Aurors are here and ready to obey you. I have two with me ready to act on your command as well. The rest of ours here follow Fudge, including your favorites, Dawlish and Williamson. Be careful Harry, and God speed."

Harry called up his Fluttering Robes charm at it strongest setting, and the sound of the wind called attention to him.

He strode purposely towards the vampire delegation nearly seventy feet away. Peripherally several stepped to block his path, but failed. Fudged moved to intercept him and said, "See here, Potter-"

Dumbledore deftly moved to place himself in Fudge's way, and Harry strode on towards the vampires. They were against a wall, near a table. As Harry neared, the tallest of the three came forward. He appeared to be in his late forties, but appearances meant nothing with the undead. At his side, was another delegate appearing to be nearer sixty or sixty-five. Holding back was the one who turned out to be Ratner, a vampire appearing to be late twenties or so.

Harry moved to the front vampire, clicked his heels together, and bowed a quick, sharp bow. He said, "I break protocol I am sure, but I am no diplomat. I am Spell Monger Potter, here to pay my respects and offer my friendship to Count Kldonovitch."

This was it. His entire strategy hung on this approach working as it had for Telemachus Grind nearly a thousand years before.

The silence, which lasted for mere seconds but seemed a small eternity, ended with a puzzling, lopsided smile from the nearest vampire. He clicked his heels together as well. He deepened the smirk factor of his near grin, and spoke clearly and as loudly as Harry had. All by now were jockeying to hear.

His voice was a cliche of all of the vampire movies ever produced, from his toothy inflections to the Eastern European accent. "I am Count Pavel Kldonovitch of the Vlad Coven, and designated Grand Margrave over all vampire covens of Europe and Western Asia. On behalf of those I represent, and for myself, I accept your offer of friendship, Spell Monger."

Harry could not hold back a small sigh of relief and a small grin. The Count smiled a bit broader, and winked at him.

Harry half turned, not taking his eyes off of the Count. "Grand Margrave, may I present Professor Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, and Grand Sorcerer; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards; Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamot, and my assistant for this evening." Gasps were heard throughout the room.

"I met your Headmaster in battle, a hundred and forty years ago, Spell Monger. It is a delight to meet him again under more civil circumstances." Harry and the Count barely broke eye contact as the vampire nodded briefly to Dumbledore.

"Great Spell Monger, may I present Graf Hans-Joachin Soderberg, head of the Wittgenstein Coven." Both looked at each other and clicked their heels with a short bow. "And finally, Baron Ratner of the Princip-"

At that exact moment Harry looked to the youngest vampire present. This gave him the fraction of a second warning he needed to turn disaster into victory.

With a horrendous roar, Ratner bared his fangs and lunged at Harry. At the point in his life where Ratner had been bitten, he was an athlete. He was massively strong, though only an inch taller than Harry. Ratner moved his sharp incisors to within less than three inches of Harry's neck. In this effort the Baron had also pushed Harry over onto the ground and was struggling with his hands to push Harry's head to the side for better access to flesh.

Harry Potter, first to finish the Paladin Program this summer, was not the skinny lad of three months before. He had exercised each day two times, even occasionally three times the amount asked of participants. He had arms that resembled steel bars, and all of his body was a coiled spring ready to exert itself. He used every bit of that strength to push the inhumanly strong Ratner back to the full extent of Harry's own reach.

Then Harry pulled one hand away from Ratner and turned his face to the side, closing his eyes tightly.

Ratner loosened his grip for a brief moment, preparing to plunge at the neck that appeared to now be offered to him. At that moment Harry's free right hand appeared before the attacker's face, and the Spell Monger snapped his fingers.

That afternoon Harry Potter had mongered a tiny fractional discharge of Thunderfire and aligned it to his abilities to do wandless and wordless magic. In this form few would be interested in purchasing it, and fewer still would find themselves in the unique situation where Harry found himself at this moment.

At less than three inches from his face, Baron Ratner took the full brunt of this tiny amount of Thunderfire right in his eyes, while inhaling its heat into his sinus cavities. The scream of pain, agony wrenched from a being whose eyes were burned instantly from their sockets, and whose mucus membranes in his nasal passage were seared, was soul chilling. After this scream Ratner passed out.

All present were stunned. They had in less than seven seconds heard the growl of a vampire attack, the crash of two bodies thudding into the floor, and the animalistic howl of terrible pain. They'd seen a flash of light and inhaled in moments both the smell of an indistinguishable explosive and the stench of burned flesh.

Harry shoved Ratner off of him just in time to see Dawlish reach around several delegates and cast a Killing Curse at the Count, which missed as the Auror's arm was jostled.

In a move known of circus acrobats, Harry popped up onto his feet from his back. With Seeker fast reflexes and movements that almost blurred his body to those looking, Harry sprang in between the vampires dazed by the light, and Fudge's two personal Aurors, Dawlish and Williamson.

Harry cast a Shield Spell to block Williamson's stunner and shouted for them to cease firing. At the same time Harry used his back to push the vampires, dazed from the light, back against the wall to give him room to defend them and hopefully make them smaller targets. In doing this he placed Count Kldonovitch's face - mouth - teeth - right within inches of his neck. Many present gasped when the Count looked straight at his neck and smiled.

"Move, Potter. I'll kill your attackers!" Dawlish shouted and stepped to the side. Harry shouted for him to stop, but the Auror pulled back his arm and began the invocation for the Killing Curse, aiming it at Graf Soderberg, who had fallen to the side.

The Killing Curse would not kill a vampire. If it did, there would be no need for Thunderfire. But at this point blank range that curse could cause grievous pain for several days. The vampire would suffer from serious internal damage. In an actual fight, a vampire moved too swiftly to be so directly hit by any curse, so even that serious an impact by the Killing Curse rarely happened to a vampire. Thunderfire was one of the few things that could daze a vampire to stay still long enough for any curse to be cast in such close proximity.

Dawlish began the incantation, and Harry had no time to cast any shield or counter curse - none existed for this Unforgivable. Harry pushed a blast of raw magic out from his bare left hand right at Dawlish's wand hand. The wand disintegrated and those close enough could hear the many small bones in the Auror's hand shatter as well. Dawlish starred blankly at his mangled right hand and what was left of his wand for a long moment, before he too screamed in pain and fainted.

Harry took a step forward raising his hands and popping both wands out of their holsters, ready for use. He looked even more menacing to those who now had a new reason to fear him. Dumbledore stepped to his side, wand drawn. Freezemore and Johnson appeared there as well, ready to act.

Fudge was both furious at this, Harry's latest action, and backing away in fear. Ambassador Glean was being jostled aside by Madam Bones. Acting Minister Oblansk and Acting Auror Director Krum pushed forward.

Harry finally said. "If there are no more interruptions, I'd like to finish my conversation with the Count." Harry turned back to the vampires. Dumbledore and Harry's two assigned Aurors spread apart so others could hear, but kept all away from Harry.

Before our hero could speak the Count said, "You turned your back to me to protect me from harm." It was half statement, half question. Harry nodded once.

"You placed yourself so I could attack you, and did so to stop further attacks on myself and my companion by your kind?" It was a question, but Harry only shrugged.

"Spell Monger Potter, Friend-Of-The-Vampires, my friend. Name your terms of peace. If they are in any way acceptable, I will ensure that my nation accepts them."

Harry heard Fudge begin to demand to be let through. Harry hissed, "Headmaster!" Dumbledore erected a Shield Wall Spell to keep everyone else at bay.

The newly named Friend-Of-The-Vampires said, "A return to the status quo ante, peace like before this conflict. You and all vampires act as has traditionally been acceptable and we will leave you to regulate yourself. We'll only monitor your self-policing activities. I will sell Thunderfire to ten Aurors in each ministry that signs this accord, or to ten percent of their Aurors, whichever number is larger.

"If they abuse this treaty in unreasonably harassing you with Thunderfire, I will limit their future access to that piece of magic. We will have a guarded peace, as in the time of my predecessor, Telemachus Grind.

"You will refuse aid to the Dark Lord, the so-called Lord Voldemort," shouts and shutters rippled through those present, and Harry gave an annoyed glance in their direction. "And you will keep any dissatisfied vampires from joining him. You will notify us immediately if any do - assisting us in apprehending any who do join that despicable, twisted, madman."

Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Have I forgotten anything, Supreme Mugwump?"

When he mentioned Dumbledore's title, many sighed in relief. Dumbledore in a sense represented all Wizarding governments as head of the International Confederation. Most there trusted him. "No, Spell Monger," the ancient said. "You have covered our concerns admirably."

Harry said, "Would you dictate to a scribe the exact words needed for a treaty, Headmaster?"

Without waiting for an answer Harry called for a scribe. A trembling young woman of about twenty-five came forward hesitantly. Dumbledore took her arm and guided her to the nearby table to record the treaty. Harry and Dumbledore had gone over every important point several times in the coach while eating, and Harry had remembered each one.

Fudge began making more noise and pushing his way forward. "I demand to be a part of this," he said, sounding very much like a petulant child.

Harry said, "Minister Oblansk, and any other Minister of Magic from a land directly in contact with the traditional vampire homelands. Do any of you wish to add anything else to my proposed treaty?"

Oblansk looked to his counterparts, intentionally ignoring the blustering Fudge. "No, Spell Monger," the Bulgarian said. "We will read the treaty before signing of course, but you have covered all of our concerns." With this Konstantin Krum moved to Minister Fudge and began to speak to him forcefully.

"Spell Monger," Count Kldonovitch said. Harry turned to him. "What do you wish done to this one?" He pointed to Ratner, who was beginning to stir. Graf Soderberg grabbed the blinded vampire by the scruff of his cloak and effortlessly drew him to his feet, holding the semi-conscious vampire in place.

Ambassador Carver Glean stepped forward and said, "This... man," his distaste was apparent in his tone. "This creature attacked a subject of our government. We demand the right to take him into custody and punish him at our leisure."

Harry's eyes never left the Count's face. The vampire's thick eyebrows came together in a frown. Harry said, "I am here as citizen of no nation, but as sole member of my guild. I leave it to you, Count, to administer justice as you see fit, for the good and the honor of the vampire nation."

Kldonovitch looked him deeply in the eyes. For a moment the two were locked in a trance-like stare. "Well said, Spell Monger," said the vampire. "Spoken like the worthy heir of Telemachus Grind, Osbert Blacwin, and the other Spell Mongers we have known and respected." More gasps and expressions of amazement filled the air.

With that the Count walked over to the nearest table not being used by Dumbledore and the scribe. All those near it backed away in fear. The Count snorted at their actions. With a powerful downward thrust of his gloved hand, he shattered the table. He reached down and picked up a jaggedly sharp table leg. Then he walked back to the two other vampires.

The Count shouted out so all could hear. "Baron Sergei Ratner. You have compromised your position as representative to this assembly. You have broken faith with the vampire nation. You have dishonored your coven." The count paused to indicate the gravity of matter. He asked, "Do you, or shall I?"

Ratner shivered and cried out, "Pavel, I was impulsive-"

"BARON! Do you, or shall I?"

Ratner silenced himself. After moment he stood up as straight as he could and blindly held out his hand, his head held high.

"Well done, Sergei." the Count said, and placed the piece of wood in his outstretched hand.

Before anyone could react, Ratner placed the sharpened end of the table leg to his chest, and pulled it clean through his body leaving the point protruding out the back. Amidst the gasps and screams, the body of the now terminated vampire turned to ash and fell dryly to the floor.

Kldonovitch spoke to Harry, but loud enough for many to hear, "By doing it himself, he restored some of his personal honor, absolved his coven of responsibility, and preserved his wealth and position for his family. It was a good end for one who was a constant thorn in my side."

Harry shuddered slightly. "Professor?" he called.

"Almost ready Spell Monger," came the reply.

Harry turned to the Count and stepped forward for a private conversation. "Is there anything else we need to discuss, Count? As I am sure you know, I am new to this."

The Count smiled and chuckled softly. "I grow weary of the trappings of diplomacy and government." Kldonovitch waved his hand dismissively at the mass of diplomats. "You prove they are useless at best, and harmful at worse - and unnecessary. Why did you trust me, why did you turn your neck to me?"

"If you wanted war, you'd have started it by now. You were reported as the one who held together the peace talks from your end. I saw it as little risk, and you were still dazed from the Mini-Thunderfire."

"That's what you call it? Will you sell it also?"

"I don't see it as too advantageous in a fight. For most users, if a vampire is that close they are probably going to be bitten. It's better to stop him before he's that near."

"And yet you were able to stop him that close. Ratner was one of our physically strongest."

Harry shrugged. He shivered slightly.

"Are you all right, Spell Monger?"

"A chill in the air, perhaps," Harry said. "Could you see your way to calling me Harry, at least in private?"

"Oh, let's. And shall we do so loudly enough now to truly infuriate the other delegates. My given name is Pavel."

"Spell Monger, Count," Dumbledore interrupted. "We have the treaty prepared. The scribe will read it now if you permit."

Harry and the Count stood side-by-side for the reading of the treaty. It was brief and to the point. Dumbledore squelched any quibbling at details, and Oblansk quickly helped him. The Count insisted on signing first and asked Harry to sign also.

"Pavel, I represent no one but myself. I have no right to sign," Harry said.

"But, Harry, as head of your guild you have the right and obligation to commit yourself and all Spell Mongers who come after you to this treaty. Thunderfire is an integral part of its enforcement."

Several people murmured about the use of familiar names by the two.

Harry looked to Dumbledore who whispered in the scribe's ear. She paled, but quickly turned to the parchment, quill in hand. Soon a place for Harry to sign appeared next to the Count's.

Count Kldonovitch drew Harry forward with him, signed, and handed the quill to Harry for his signature. They then moved back and to the side.

Minister Oblansk signed next and came over to the now controversial two. "Count, thank you for coming to terms so quickly, and for sticking to the negotiations through the rants of the dunderheads." The Acting Bulgarian Minister had nowhere near the accent of his father when speaking English.

"We have Harry to thank for that Mikah. I'm glad I insisted on his presence, although I thought little would come from a boy of sixteen. But, the reputation of Harry Potter as told by Konstantin's son holds true."

The Bulgarian thanked Harry as he shook his hand. Oblansk asked, "Have you met young Viktor's father?"

Harry told him that he hadn't, but had seen the man before. The Minister called Krum over and introduced the two. Harry paid attention to the conversation, but felt himself shiver once again. His mind raced with the import of what he had just done, but he returned his concentration to the conversation at hand.

Many of the eastern Europeans came by to thank Harry, but no one from the British Ministry of Magic approached him except for Amelia Bones. She shook his hand and scurried off to the still shouting Fudge.

Graf Soderberg asked for a bell jar of Unfailing Light, and Harry committed to provide one for each coven leader when they ratified the treaty.

~*~

The delegates all signed eventually, although the French delegate complained that since Pont du Hoc was on French soil, he should have signed higher up on the parchment.

Farewells were extended and Harry shivered once again on the way to the carriage. His mind raced and he felt his pulse quicken a bit also.

"Professor, please get me out of here."

Dumbledore looked at Harry's pale face, grabbed his arm and made his way into the coach as quickly as possible.

As the Hogwarts coach drove/flew out of the cliff opening and into the night air, Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Are you sick, my boy?"

"No. sir. At least I don't think so. I'm... I'm just... it's hitting me..."

Harry gulped air and became paler. "Professor, why me? Why do I... Why is it always me that has to..." He gulped two more great lungs full of air and said very quietly, "I don't want to die, Professor."

Harry leaned forward with tears unshed in his eyes. Dumbledore reached out and pulled him into his arms with surprising strength.

"Harry... Son, you've done so very well. You carry your burdens so magnificently that we often forget that anyone can and will crack under the pressures from time to time. I've said the same thing with tears myself on more than one occasion. I was still a foot soldier at your age. You bear what I bore in my nineties."

Dumbledore held Harry until he could tell the young man's breathing indicated sleep. He gently laid him out on the coach seat opposite of him, after enlarging it a few inches so the young man could fully recline.

Dumbledore then spent the rest of the trip pondering how he could prepare Harry for war, protect him from Fudge, and spoil him a bit, hopefully giving a little of his childhood back. It would not be easy, but he promised himself, and his memories of Lily, James, and Sirius, that he would try his best.

Chapter End

Author's Note - Please read before you flame me about religion in Harry Potter -

I suppose I should apologize for making Sirius Harry's godfather instead of only his guardian, since godfather is definitely a religious term. I guess I should also apologize for putting unicorns, centaurs, basilisks, and phoenixes in Harry Potter, since those are all from Greek mythology, the basis for early Greek religions. And boy was it a mistake when I introduced the idea of a horcrux and splitting a soul. What was I thinking - souls are a very religious idea, and religion shouldn't be a part of Harry Potter.

Of course I didn't put any of that in Harry Potter, so I am sure you have all written and complained to JKR about religion in Harry Potter.

Also, I am sure you have written to complain to any fanfiction author if he or she has mentioned anything from the Druids, a religious order. You've also flamed any author if he or she has mentioned, pentagrams, a religious symbol for Satanists and others, and you've yelled at anyone who's written about golems, which come from Jewish folklore. And surely you've complained when any one has mentioned the spirit world or had Sirius or James and Lily talk to Harry from the afterlife - a major concept found in almost all religions.

Oh yes, and remember to shout at JKR about the ghosts, while you're stating the afterlife has no place bringing religion into Harry Potter.

Now, if after doing all that, you want to tell me that my Christian concepts have no place in Harry Potter, please do so.

Otherwise, if you haven't done those things, but will just honestly admit you are prejudiced against Christians and/or Christianity, then you can also flame me about Christianity, but don't hide behind the idea of no religion in Harry Potter - it's an intellectually bankrupt theory.

I admit this is a sore subject for me. This tale was stopped at one site because I would not delete these simple elements. Can you understand being sensitive about areas where others have been prejudiced against you?

Thanks for reading, and for hopefully thinking about what I've said here.

~*~*~

And now a word from one of the Betas: Among the half-million or so authors writing in the Harry Potter Fan Fiction space there are three or so of them who try to accurately incorporate elements of Christianity into their tales. If this is not to your liking, don't read anything written by these authors (names provided on request). That's your choice as a reader: to read, or not to read. Reviews along the line of "I love your story, but I wish you'd stop talking about God" are not well received. Likewise the naked assertions that JKR wrote secular stories, so there is no place for religion in fan fiction. To that I reply that JKR writes stories that are largely devoid of sex or romance, but that hasn't stopped the hordes of writers who like their fan fiction on the juicy side. You're not going to win the author over by writing poison reviews. When I was writing TLOS and posting it on SugarQuill.net, the hard-core secularists started a whispering campaign to get me tossed from the site. Zsenya wisely cut through this gambit, but I was required to post a "Mature Themes" warning on all of my chapters - a story notorious for not letting the hero and heroine kiss. Go figure. If these stories are not your cup of tea, don't read them - you still have about a half-million other stories to occupy your time. Kokopelli - cranky Beta extraordinaire.