Lies and Illusions

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and whoever else she's given the rights to. That doesn't include me.

Author's Note: This is the first time I've tried writing fanfiction so don't be too hard on it. Reading HBP a second time has made me rethink much of what JKR has been doing with her books. This fic is my projection of the Trio's summer after HBP based on the theories I've developed -- most importantly what some have called my Empath Theory.

I'd like to thank everyone who's responded to my posts on Portkey's HBP Complete board. Many of these theories couldn't have been developed without your help.

Special thanks are due to annearchy for her advice, encouragement, and for agreeing to beta this story for me.

One final note: I'm assuming that Dumbledore's funeral took place in the first full week of June, when exams would normally occur.
__________________________________________________________________________________________


Chapter 1
Leaving Hogwarts


It was quiet on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. An hour before a crowd of humans had been joined by the merpeople and centaurs to say goodbye to the greatest wizard any of them had ever known. While he was loved by some, and hated by others, there were few people who could say they didn't respect the man.

They were gone now. Most of the adults had headed for the village of Hogsmeade to catch floo connections, or to apparate to wherever they were going. The students who hadn't already left were in the castle preparing to leave for what many thought would be the last time. Even the table and hundreds of chairs had been magically removed, leaving only the white tomb that had a single figure standing beside it.

It was a tall, slim young man with messy black hair and bright green eyes that looked out through a pair of round glasses. Harry Potter gazed at the name engraved on the top of the newest addition to the Hogwarts grounds as he put his wand away, his mind lost in thought.

Beneath the name was a list of his accomplishments which read like the back of his Chocolate Frog card. Harry knew the old wizard had done all of those things, but felt there was something missing from the description of the man he'd spent so much time with this past year. This feeling had been nagging him during the eulogy, and led him to wonder if the person who gave it ever actually met Professor Dumbledore.

Harry also thought about the task Dumbledore had left him. Lord Voldemort, whose name few wizards could bring themselves to say, had torn his own soul apart in a mad attempt to escape death. Using magic as dark as his spirit, Voldemort encased six of the shards into things of great importance to his twisted mind. These "Horcruxes" as they were called, were hidden away for safe keeping. For if they were destroyed, it would make the Dark Lord mortal once again.

Now with Dumbledore dead at the hands of a wizard that only he really trusted, it fell to Harry to do just that.

The slightest thought of Severus Snape brought the urge to wring the greasy-haired, son-of-a-bitch's neck. Never in a million years would Harry understand why the headmaster bought that bastard's story. Professor McGonagall herself said that many people had doubted Snape's true loyalties, why didn't...

"Harry, the coaches are on their way up. It's time to go."

He was broken out of his trance by the familiar voice of Hermione Granger. The two of them had been friends since their first year at Hogwarts, thanks to a berserk mountain troll. The brown eyed, bushy haired seventeen year-old bookworm was incredibly smart, there was hardly a class she didn't excel in. She was also a stickler for following school rules, unless there was a very good reason not to. Never the less, she always did her best to help -- and had saved him more than once.

Their friendship had been strained over the past year. Since the start of school, they had repeatedly disagreed about what Malfoy was up to and Harry using an old textbook he'd received. Every time either of these subjects came up they'd find themselves yelling at each other. In the end, it turned out they were both partly right in their arguments, but had refused to listen to one another. If not for their own foolish pride, they might have figured out what was going on in time to stop the Death Eater's plot.

Any lingering troubles they might have had were set aside after he told his friends that he was going off to find the Horcruxes alone. Hermione and Ron immediately refused to let him leave by himself. They were going with him, even if it meant not returning for their final year of school. As reluctant as he was to place his friends in danger, Harry couldn't deny how much he appreciated them coming along.

"Thanks Hermione, I just had to do something here. Where's Ron?"

Hermione answered, "He's up at the castle talking to his mum and dad about coming to the Dursleys with us." He looked at her. "Mrs. Weasley didn't look too happy."

That was bad, but not unexpected. If someone tried to make the ultimate expression of a mother, they'd land up with someone very much like Molly Weasley. Normally she was warm and kind, but she also had a serious overprotective streak and was downright scary when she lost her temper. Harry and Ron would never forget that Howler she sent after they took Mr. Weasley's flying car back in second year. Of course, there wasn't much she could do to stop Ron from coming, now that he's an adult in the magical world. Then again, her other children being of age had never stopped her from giving them an earful.

"He didn't mention not coming back to Hogwarts next year, did he?" Harry hoped not, that would put Molly in orbit.

"No," Hermione said with a straight face, "I think he'd prefer to do it from a safe distance. Say...Australia?" They shared a brief laugh before she asked in a curious tone, "Why are you down here anyway?"

A very good question. There were many reasons, most of which he couldn't put into words. His earlier thoughts flashed though his mind again. The most recent being those of that terrible day last week: getting the note, learning that Snape had sent Voldemort after his parents, the cave with the fake Horcrux, the Dark Mark over Hogwarts, Dumbledore trying to convince Malfoy to change sides while Harry was frozen under his invisibility cloak, failing to stop Snape's escape after he killed the headmaster. Perhaps the worst part was the professor's words after they jumped out of the cave. The greatest wizard of modern times said he felt safe because Harry was with him. If only he'd been right.

He looked at the tomb again, wondering how his friend would react to what he'd done. He wondered if she would understand.

"All the stuff they talked about at his funeral...his achievements, wisdom...I don't think any of it really mattered to him. It's like they were talking about this...image everyone had of what he was. But they didn't say anything that -"

"- That sounded like the person we knew," she finished quietly.

Hermione had come up next to him and looked over the inscription on Dumbledore's tomb. Her eyes came to rest on four newly added words at the bottom.

It took a moment for Hermione to respond. Harry recalled the memory of hearing those words back when they first came to Hogwarts with the same mix of emotions he felt earlier today.

Hermione raised her head, and looked at him as if she didn't know if she should laugh or cry.

"I think he would approve, Harry."

***********

The two of them headed towards the castle to catch the carriages. A smaller than usual crowd of students waited by the main doors. They were dressed like Harry and Hermione. They wore grey jumpers over white shirts, with matching trousers for the boys and skirts for the girls, over which they all wore long black robes. The trim of their respective house colors completed the uniforms. The teachers stood around them, apparently watching for something. A handful of thestral-drawn carriages were parked nearby with more coming up the road. A tall redhead spotted them and called out to his friends.

"There you are, I see you found him Hermione. He wasn't going to sneak off on us after all, was he?"

Ron Weasley had been best friends with Harry from their first ride on the Hogwarts Express. They'd hit it off right away and were nearly inseparable. Ron had changed a lot over the past year. Before he was a jealous, insecure, hothead who got them in trouble more then once. Three months ago, on his birthday, Ron had been poisoned and nearly died. Afterwards, he wasn't so sensitive about things anymore. Especially were Hermione was concerned.

Where Harry's friendship with Hermione had been strained this year, the one between Ron and her had been stormy from the beginning. They often bickered, and this bickering repeatedly had erupted into blazing rows. Some of these arguments had gone on for months, like the one they'd had back in November - that one only ended after his near-fatal accident on the first of March. Harry had no idea what happened between them in the hospital wing while Ron was recovering. What he did know was that he hadn't seen them fighting since.

"No, he wasn't," replied Hermione. "He wanted to personally say goodbye to Professor Dumbledore."

Ron's face fell a bit and the light tone in his voice disappeared.

"Sorry mate. I forgot that you two had gotten close lately." With that he changed the subject. "You missed Ginny by the way, Mum took her home. Bill and Fleur went with them."

As much as Ron didn't want to talk about Dumbledore's death, Harry didn't want to talk about Ginny. She was the youngest child and only daughter of the Weasley family. The two of them had dated for the last month, but he broke it off with her just after the funeral. There was too much going on in his life for them to be together any more, no matter how much he liked being with her, so he had ended their relationship. Strangely enough, his feelings for Ginny Weasley had already begun to fade in the short time....

"Oy, Harry...wake up! I hope you weren't having dirty thoughts about my sister, or I may have to hurt you," Ron yelled in a semi-serious tone.

Harry was saved from explaining by the appearance of a glowing silver wolf that trotted up to Professor McGonagall, the acting headmistress of Hogwarts. Tonks' patronus delivered its message and vanished a moment later. The teachers signaled for the crowd to start boarding the carriages.

"Must be what they're waiting for. Hermione, McGonagall told me to tell you to make sure Harry gets in the first carriage."

"Why?" both of them asked.

Ron shrugged. "Don't ask me. I'll see you on the train. They drafted me into helping make sure all the midgets get there okay."

"You're a prefect, it's your job, AND STOP CALLING THEM MIDGETS!" Hermione screamed at Ron's retreating back.

Ron laughed as they went their separate ways.

As she climbed aboard the first carriage, an annoyed Hermione said, "He can be such a prat sometimes."

"He was just joking. Maybe that's what Lavender liked about him." Harry tried to defuse her temper.

"Lavender Brown is an idiot," she shot back, "and don't try to tell me otherwise because I've shared a room with her for six years now! She didn't want a boyfriend, she wanted a bloody life preserver. With everything that's happening, she's scared out of her mind and looked for a boy to cling to. Ron just happened to be the one who got her attention."

Harry had to admit it made sense in a way. But he didn't understand why Hermione was so wound up about this, it wasn't like her. He looked up and carefully said, "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would upset you like that."

Now wearing a puzzled expression she asked, "What are you talking about? I don't care who Ron dates as long as they don't make a public spectacle out of themselves! A prefect is supposed to help maintain the school's decorum, not snog his girlfriend all over the castle. Even you and Ginny have enough sense to find somewhere private. Most of the time."

He stared out the window, it looked like most of the students had boarded the carriages.

"Did the two of you have a fight? She was kind of upset the last time I saw her."

There was no point in avoiding the question. He never had much luck hiding stuff from Hermione when she knew something was wrong. She'd keep nudging him until it came out, and she was very persistent.

"We broke up," he stated matter-of-factly.

Before she had a chance to ask why, the carriage door opened to reveal Minerva McGonagall in her tall, pointed black hat and robes.

"Professor," Harry reached out to help her in while Hermione moved to sit next to him. "are you coming with us?"

"Thank you, Mister Potter. I will be accompanying you to the station, to insure everyone gets there safely. I also wish to speak to you about a few things." Once she sat down and closed the door, the carriage started moving.

Professor McGonagall spoke in her usual business like, no-nonsense manner.

"The board of governors has asked for a complete report on what occurred the day Professor Dumbledore died and the events leading up to it. I am not going to ask you to tell me what the two of you were doing away from school that day. No doubt you'd refuse to speak of it, again."

Harry calmly interrupted, "I gave him my word not to talk about it to anyone he didn't okay, Professor."

McGonagall looked at him over her square glasses. "You are so much like your father sometimes.... In any event, telling them that you were on personal business concerning your coming of age should suffice." She pulled out a scroll and handed it to Harry. "I would like you to go over this and make sure the account is accurate. Much of it is based on what you told us in the hospital wing."

He quickly scanned the parchment covered in the professor's neat writing. The letter was long and detailed, covering all the disturbing events of the past school year: from the attack on Katie Bell to the battle last week. There was something not included though, an incident Harry wished he could forget. Something told him that Hermione, who had leaned over to read the scroll, had noticed it too.

"That seems to cover everything." He said, handing the parchment back. He could sense his friend's glare without even looking at her.

"Very good," the teacher replied, putting the scroll back in her robes. "I would also like to ask you about the altercation that occurred between you and Mister Malfoy last month."

His stomach dropped right through the floor. "Don't smile," Harry told his friend.

"Indeed Miss Granger, this is a most serious matter and I would expect you, of all people, to treat it as such," McGonagall chastised her before looking back at Harry, "In light of recent events, I would like to hear your version of the incident, Mister Potter."

Even a month afterwards, he still felt guilty for what happened that day. But stuck between these two witches there was no way to avoid it. Harry started at the beginning. "You know that I thought Malfoy was up to something..."

From there he described how he started keeping track of his enemy's movements, hoping to find out what he was doing. One day Harry found him crying in a bathroom with Moaning Myrtle. Upon seeing him, Malfoy drew his wand and attacked him. Their duel ended when Harry hit Draco with a curse called Sectumsempra as Malfoy was casting the Cruciatus Curse. He still shuddered at the horrific result.

"I swear Professor, I didn't know it would do that. If I did..."

The old woman cut him off. In her professional tone she said, "I would like to believe you Potter, but how could you know a Dark curse like that one without knowing its effect?" She always had a gift for getting to the heart of the matter.

Hermione gently laid a hand on his arm. "Tell her Harry." Looking up at her, he could see the pained but determined look in her eyes. "If you don't, I will," she added with conviction.

No matter how much he hated to admit it, she was right. He had to come clean about everything.

"It was written in the margin of a textbook Professor Slughorn gave me in our first class. The whole thing was covered with Potions notes and spells. Just before he escaped, Snape told me he wrote them and signed the book with his alias 'The Half Blood Prince'. He recognized the curse that day because he's the one who created the damned thing."

"And where is this book now?" The acting headmistress' question was accompanied by the scratching of a quill. Neither teen had noticed that she was writing down what they said.

"When Snivellus asked..."

"Snivellus?" inquired Hermione, her lip twitching.

McGonagall actually suppressed a snicker. "I'm not going to ask how you learned the old nickname your father used to call Severus Snape," she said just loud enough to be heard.

Harry himself couldn't believe he'd used it. Holding back a grin of his own, he continued.

"Anyway, I stashed it in the Room of Requirement when he demanded to see my books." She didn't have to know about his pathetic attempt to pass Ron's book off as his own. "If you want to find it Professor, the version it's in is a huge room filled with broken junk and...." He suddenly beat his head against the wall behind him.

"Harry,"

"Mister Potter,"

Harry groaned, "I'm so stupid -- I walked right past it!"

Both women were waiting for him to make sense.

"The vanishing cabinet that Malfoy used to sneak the Death Eaters into the school, it's in that room! I was looking for a place to hide the book, like he wanted a place to hide his work, and found the way into his hideout and didn't even realize it. Professor, you have to get rid of that thing now that Voldemort knows what it does. Maybe even clean the place out altogether, I saw some other pretty nasty stuff stashed in there...."

Minerva nodded in agreement. "I'll see to it personally when I return to the castle, Harry." It was one the few times he remembered her using his given name.

"You may wish to know that your story does not match the one told to me by my former colleague. According to him, you attacked Malfoy without provocation and with full knowledge of your actions. He also alluded to your father's apparently groundless hatred towards himself when they attended Hogwarts."

"Making sure no one would believe any evidence I got on the junior Death Eater he was protecting," Harry said before muttering, "I bet Dad saw right through the slime ball."

A moment of silence passed before McGonagall asked, "You said this book had Potions notes in it. Did you use them in class?"

There was a disapproving "Yes" in response.

"Hermione!"

"And how did Professor Slughorn react to you not following the same directions as your classmates?" The head of Gryffindor House ignored his outburst as she continued her inquiry.

"He complemented me on my work." Harry was wondering where these last few questions where going.

A trace of curiosity entered Hermione's tone when she added, "Even when you completely ignored the purpose of the lesson."

"That bezoar saved Ron's life. If I hadn't known about it, he would never have survived his seventeenth birthday." Harry answered defensively.

"I know, you did the right thing," she reluctantly conceded. "I'd hate to lose him too, even when he's an annoying git."

Neither of them noticed a frowning Minerva McGonagall conjure a silver cat from her wand. It headed for another coach in the line passing through the front gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

**********
end chapter 1

Lies and Illusions chp. 2
Lies and Illusions

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me. I'm just having some fun with her characters.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 2
Slughorn Exposed


McGonagall asked Harry and Hermione to wait with her for a moment after they got out at Hogsmeade Station. Hogwarts students filed past them heading towards the scarlet train that would carry them back to King's Cross in London. Before long, Ron Weasley joined them.

"Hey guys, did you find out what McGonagall wanted?" he said, not noticing her presence.

Harry responded, "Yea, she wanted to talk to me."

Harry and Hermione quickly brought their friend up to date about their ride from Hogwarts castle. He swore under his breath when they mentioned how Snape lied to get Harry into extra trouble. They barely reached the headmistress' questions about Slughorn when the fat, bald wizard with an enormous silver mustache walked up to them.

"My lovely Minerva, you wanted to see me? Can you make it brief? There are some people waiting for me, do you remem...."

"You can drop the cock-and-bull routine, Horace. I didn't buy it as a student and I won't except it now."

Her voice held the icy tone normally reserved for students who were in more trouble then they could possibly imagine. Harry had seen her talk to another teacher like this only once before, during his career counseling session last year. That time, his ever-proper Transfiguration teacher had traded barbs with a certain sadistic, toad-faced bitch. But Umbridge didn't really count as a professor on second thought -- in her entire year at Hogwarts, she didn't teach anyone a damn thing.

Ron muttered, "Bloody hell -- what set her off?" His friends only shrugged.

The fat wizard stopped short. "I...is there something wrong?" His enormous mustache twitched in surprise.

"In a manner of speaking. I have just received some interesting information concerning the recent improvement in Mister Potter's Potions grades. Particularly involving the rather unique copy of Advanced Potion-Making he received when you admitted him to your class." For some reason, McGonagall reminded Harry of a detective describing a crime scene on a Muggle television show. "A copy that contains notes describing more current potion making techniques than the ones you, and your now disowned protege, normally teach."

"Protege? She doesn't mean Snape, does she?" Ron asked his friends, barely containing his shock.

"Who else?" Harry answered, "He was in the Slug Club as a student, that's why he was at the Christmas party. It's probably how he came to Voldemort's attention too."

Slughorn gasped at the insinuation, "Now don't you get the wrong idea, Harry! There was no way I could know - "

"- That your club is a recruiting ground for the Death Eaters? Don't know why anyone would think that, just because half of them used to be in it...." Harry finished sarcastically.

Hermione asked after a brief silence, "Professor McGonagall, what did you mean by 'more current' techniques?"

"Things change, Miss Granger. Members of the magical community are constantly experimenting with new magic and improvements to existing spells and potions. I'm not a Potions expert, but I do know the textbook you've been using hasn't been revised since I was a student here. It's been in desperate need of replacement for some time now.

Minerva paused for a breath as she turned her gaze to Harry.

"Your description of the book, and how you received it, is a pattern I saw a great deal of during Professor Slughorn's previous tenure at Hogwarts. He was well-known for coaxing many highly promising students into that club of his, and gaining prestige merely by associating with them. Very few people realized that his true talent lay not in teaching or his influence -- but in chicanery, play-acting, and slight-of-hand. What magic I've personally known him for is of a similar nature, full of trickery and false images." She glanced at Ron, "Not unlike the sort your brothers specialize in Mister Weasley, except Fred and George freely admit it."

Hermione's eyes widened as she started digging through her purse. Harry felt a sinking feeling as he watched her pull out a little glass bottle a few seconds later. She briefly examined the contents, a tiny amount of what looked like liquid gold. It was all that remained of the precious Felix Felicis: a potion that gave incredible, unfailing good luck. Harry had won it in the first Potions class of the year, thanks the the Half Blood Prince's book.

Without saying a word, she tapped the bottle with her wand and the golden color faded away.

"What did you do?" Ron asked with his mouth hanging open.

"I canceled the spell," an equally amazed Hermione told him. "It wasn't really a potion at all, just water disguised with an Illusion Charm. They're the wizard equivalent of the tricks Muggle magicians do with mirrors -" She shared a knowing look with their head of house. "- and slight-of-hand. It's far more effective of course...the charms can look, sound, smell, even taste like the real thing, and last indefinitely when done properly. The only thing is -"

Professor McGonagall broke in, "- They don't really change the nature of the object they're cast on, only Transfiguration can do that. Also, you can't transfigure something into a magical substance like a potion."

Harry gently took the bottle from Hermione. Staring at it, he realized just how much this walrus-faced prat and his cronies had affected his sixth year. To be honest, Harry had never been very concerned about Slughorn -- he just didn't seem all that important with Voldemort on the loose. But now it seemed like just about everything he'd done had been connected to the Potions teacher in some way: from Quidditch to helping Dumbledore. It was hard to believe the lengths this guy had gone to trying convince Harry to join that stupid club of his.

Slughorn flashed his most harmless smile and talked really fast, "Now Harry, there's no reason to be upset. It was a simple mistake, I accidentally gave you the wrong bottle. But you have to admit the book I gave you -"

"Was far more trouble than it was worth," Harry said flatly. "I don't suppose you bothered to see exactly what Snape wrote in it? Forget it...stupid question," he muttered under his breath, "you wouldn't know Dark Magic if it hit you in your fat arse."

Ignoring Ron's laugher, Harry stepped closer to the wizard he was addressing. Hermione's soft hand held him back for a moment, her brown eyes warning him not to do anything foolish. Giving her a wry smile to ease her concern, he slipped out of her grasp and approached the quivering Potions master.

Standing as close to his face as he could, Harry stared down at the old man and told him loud enough for everyone to hear: "I have only one thing to say to you, Slughorn: Stay away from me. I want nothing to do with you or your club. So just crawl back under your rock, and find some other wizard to put in your trophy case."

He rejoined his friends just as a loud whistle sounded on the Hogwarts Express. "It would seem that we've finished our business just in time. The train is about to leave and you should all get on board." McGonagall brightly told them. She then gestured towards her colleague. "I'll see to him...Hmm, perhaps his 'influence' could help him clean out the Room of Requirement? Have a pleasant summer, and try not to get into too much trouble."

They quickly said their goodbyes and turned to walk to the nearby train. Before they took two steps they heard Slughorn say, " Oh well, at least the year wasn't a total loss. Zambini is a respectable fellow who will go far, and Miss Granger.... You know what, she may yet change Potter's mind! Even if she doesn't; there's no doubt she's destined for great things, despite her Muggle heritage of cours-"

He was abruptly cut off by a bright stream of light striking him in the face . Two of his upper front teeth grew down the sides of his mouth, stopping an inch below his jaw.

Harry and Ron were too shocked to laugh at Slughorn's new tusks, which completed his walrus-like appearance. Instead they gazed slacked-jawed at Hermione, who now had her wand out and pointed at the old teacher.

"Whatever I do, good or bad, you won't profit from it!" she told him angrily. Curling her lips into a cheeky smirk she then added, "And you should consider that to be my resignation."

**********

"I still can't believe she hexed that wanker!"

Ron had been carrying on about the events at the train station since the Express had left Hogsmeade. Now, late in the afternoon and about halfway to London, Harry was growing tired of hearing it. Instead he quietly sat in his Muggle clothes and gazed blankly out the window. Crookshanks was curled up next to him, casting a look of feline annoyance across the cabin from time to time. Other than Ron, the only noise at the moment came from the birdcage above his head where Pigwidgeon was hooting his little head off, as usual. Hedwig's cage was empty, Hermione had borrowed her to send a quick message to her parents after the funeral.

"You're not still on about that are you?" Hermione said as she came back in, now dressed in jeans and a light pink t-shirt. Putting her folded robes in her trunk, she told Ron in a tired voice, "Even the best joke loses it's appeal if you've heard it a hundred times, you know."

After a minute of fiddling with the contents, she slid the trunk back under the seat. Gathering up her big ginger cat, she sat down in his place next to Harry.

"It's all right Harry, there's no way you could have known what he was doing." She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. "You shouldn't blame yourself."

Harry patted her hand as he answered her. "Did I tell you that Dumbledore warned me about Slughorn last summer? He told me that he'd have a special interest in me because he liked to 'collect' people. It never occurred to me that he'd try something more than just asking me to join his club. I'm okay, just feeling a bit stupid."

"I know what you mean." Hermione supplied in a guilty tone. "When you started using the notes in that book, I was so mad because you didn't have to work like the rest of us for your grades...but it never crossed my mind to blame Professor Slughorn for giving it to you. Between that and not realizing his 'Slug Club' wasn't really a group for the best and brightest students in the school.... I suppose you weren't the only one being a bit thick this year."

"At least you noticed the kind of spells Snape wrote in that bloody book of his. If I tossed it like you wanted..."

Ron interrupted his best friend, "No offense mate, but I'm kind of glad you didn't listen to her...." He shivered a bit as he recalled his most recent birthday. Preferring not to finish his comment he asked, "You don't suppose that old fraud wanted Hermione in his club just so she'd pull you into it as well?"

"Probably at first; until he figured out how brilliant she is, anyway."

Her cheeks turned bright pink as she added, "If so, I doubt that I'm the only one he did it to."

Recalling the first Slug Club meeting, a couple of names came to Harry's mind. "Well, I can think of two people he might have used that way: Neville and Ginny. Neither of them was connected to anyone famous, except me."

The other young man groaned, "Ohhh, she's going to be pissed...youtellherHarry." He said the last part very quickly.

"Me? Why me? She's your sister!"

"But you're her boyfriend, she's less likely to hex you." Ron smiled at his friend.

Harry let out a loud breath when he heard this.

"Not anymore," was his flat reply, "we broke up right after the funeral."

Ron's eyes widened in surprise, "Why? You two seemed to be getting on just fine."

"How can you ask me that? You know what I...we have to do, how dangerous it is." His bright green eyes traveled back to the window. "Ginny thinks I'm going after Voldemort because I want to, because it's what the 'Boy Who Lived', the 'Chosen One', or whatever bloody title they'll hang on me next week has to do. She doesn't have a clue what this is really about and has no business being in this mess."

"What about us?"

He turned to face Hermione with a lopsided grin.

"If I suggested leaving you behind again, you'd hex me. Right?"

A smirk of her own appeared on her lips, "And don't you forget it."

Their friend laughed, "Nice to know everything's back to normal, it was kinda scary there for a bit." After a brief pause Ron turned more serious, "I know what you're saying Harry, and you're right about keeping Ginny out of this. If anything happened to her, mum would kill us.

A sudden thought crossed his face, "You know, it was kinda weird the way you two got together. She tried to get your attention for years and you didn't notice her. Not to mention the way you couldn't say more than two words after snogging Cho Chang last year without turning red, and then you kiss my sister in front of the whole Gryffindor common room without batting an eyelash. For a while there I wondered if she didn't slip you one of those love potions Mum goes on about."

"Cho kissed me once under the mistletoe, I wouldn't call it a snog." Harry corrected him.

Hermione spoke up next to him.

"People blow things out of proportion all the time. Back in fourth year, I went out with Viktor once and ever since the stupidest rumors have been going around. If one more person asks me what it was like to snog Viktor Krum, they're going to wish they had Marietta Edgecombe's problem." The girl in question still had the word SNEEK written across her face because she gave away their secret Defense group last year - courtesy of one of Hermione's jinxes. "Maybe if they didn't insist on constantly talking nothing but Quidditch around him...."

"What's wrong with that? He's the best professional seeker in the game! Harry could beat him with his eyes closed bu...." was Ron's indignant response.

"I wouldn't go that far," Harry countered.

Hermione hung her head. Naturally the Quidditch fanatic wouldn't understand why someone might tire of the game.

Harry heard an odd sound come from the other side of the cabin door. Getting up to see what it was, he found a familiar girl crawling on her hands and knees, peering intently at the floor. From time to time she made some kind of strange undulating sound like a weird bird call. Although he couldn't see her face, the mane of dirty blonde hair and the wand tucked behind her ear left no doubt who she was.

"Hello, Luna."

With a loud cry, Luna Lovegood burst into motion. Several minutes of bangs, thumps, and incredulous looks passed before she returned - brushing off her blue trimmed robes. Once she was satisfied, Luna sat down in the unoccupied seat next to Ron.

"I almost had it. I know some of them live on this train, but they're very shy and won't come out if there's too much noise," she said in a dreamy but disappointed voice.

For some reason Ron asked, "What did you almost have?"

Whatever answer she gave, it would be odd to say the least. Luna was a very strange girl, even for a magical world full of weird people and creatures. Many of her classmates thought she was positively insane the way she'd go on about imaginary animals and unlikely conspiracies like the wizard magazine her father ran. Then again, maybe she just saw the world differently then everyone else.

Her big, misty eyes shined as she answered, "A Striped-Backed Iglanotti. They're rare and hard to catch because they burrow into soft things and then pull the ...."

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes, she'd never gotten along with the odd Ravenclaw. In her lap, Crookshanks gave the blonde girl the most bewildered look Harry had ever seen on a cat.

"Are you well? Did you get bitten by a...." Luna asked her with a sudden concern.

"She's had a long day, and the funeral was hard on her." Harry explained, rubbing his friend's back . "I didn't see you by the castle."

"I took one of the earlier carriages. Normally; I don't go to funerals at all, since they're so sad and unnecessary, but I made an exception in this case. Did you know that a lot of the people there didn't even like Professor Dumbledore? I suppose they came just so others could see them," Luna said in an off-handed tone.

Harry thought to himself, Why does Luna seem even weirder when she makes sense?

"Not to be mean or anything," Hermione ventured with a narrowed gaze, "but how can you call a funeral 'unnecessary'?"

"Just because someone dies doesn't mean they go away," she answered brightly. "We talk to ghosts all the time, and there's the archway we saw last year that the others hide behind. We only miss people who die because we can't see them anymore, which is silly -- there's all kinds of things we never see at all. But they're still with us as long as we remember them, and those memories will help us find them again when we need to."

Ron gave her an admiring look, "Wow, don't think I've ever heard anything like that. I like it."

"It may sound weird, but it sounds like something Dumbledore told me a long time ago." Harry's eyes traveled from Luna, to Ron, before finally settling on Hermione. "He said that the dead who loved us never really leave and we find them in ourselves when they're needed. I don't know if it makes any sense...."

"It makes perfect sense," the odd Ravenclaw answered, "far more then Harry suddenly mimicking Ginny's crush on him anyway."

Hermione's head snapped in her direction. "What did you say?"

"You didn't know?" Her brow furrowed as she pulled a copy of The Quibbler out of her robes. "I'd thought you did, what with that weird thing you do...."

Ignoring the three sets of eyes staring at her, Luna Lovegood buried herself in her father's magazine. She didn't say anything more during the rest of their trip.

**********
end chapter 2

Lies and Illusions chp. 3
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, I'm just borrowing her characters.


Author's note: This chapter will shift focus from Harry (where it's always been), to Hermione, and then back to Harry. I'll
put in my normal scene breaks when the shifts occur.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 3
Hermione's Questions


They didn't arrive at Privet Drive until the next day.

Harry hadn't planned on staying in London over night, but as it turned out they had no choice. Luna said goodbye to the trio after meeting her father on platform nine and three-quarters. Moving through King's Cross, they found no one there to meet them. Ron had talked to his parents before leaving school. The Grangers knew their daughter had passed her apparation test, so there was no need for them to drive all the way to London to pick her up. There was no sign of the Dursleys either.

Hermione suggested that they might want to make sure they had enough money, wizard and Muggle, in case it was needed. So the three of them enchanted their school trunks for easy handling and used the few pounds she had to take a cab to Charing Cross Road where the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley were. The current security measures at Gringott's meant they had to wait hours to go down to Harry's vault. The Gringott's cart left Hermione somewhat pale and saying she'd never complain about broomsticks again, even though she rejected that very idea as a way of traveling to the Dursleys'. Fortunately, exchanging some of the gold for Muggle pound notes only took a few minutes.

By the time they finished with the bank, it was too late to take a train to Surrey. Ron insisted on stopping by Weasley Wizard Wheezes to interrogate his brothers about the Instant Darkness Powder that Draco Malfoy had used during the attack on Hogwarts. Fred and George were rather annoyed by his accusations because someone from the Ministry of Magic had already been by asking about it. Although they'd proved that it didn't come from their store, their remaining supply was confiscated. Closing up the shop, the twins shared a drink with them at the Leaky Cauldron before turning in for the night.

The next day, Harry and Hermione faced the hardest part of their journey -- getting Ron Weasley from London to Little Whinging using only Muggle transportation. Being a pure-blood wizard, he had very little knowledge or experience in the non-magical world. The ticket gates and escalators were completely new to him and the train they rode on looked nothing like the Hogwarts Express. On the other hand; he freely admitted that the Muggle bus that dropped them off a few blocks from their destination was far preferable to its magical counterpart.

When the three of them finally reached number four, Privet Drive, they received a very cold welcome.

Petunia Dursley glared when she saw them.

"Why are you here?!" she screeched at them, "Who are these two?!"

A loud hiss came from Crookshanks' wicker basket as Harry replied, "These are my friends Aunt Petunia, I believe you've met Ron Weasley -" The way her eyes bulged out of their sockets proved that she did, in fact, remember him. "- and this is my other best friend, Hermione Granger."

"Ma'am." Hermione gave her a brief, guarded look before going back to examining the room. She didn't seem any happier than her cat.

Harry continued, "Something came up at school, so we were sent home early. Professor Dumbledore made it quite clear that he wanted me to come here one last time so I did. Ron and Hermione insisted on staying with me this summer. I think it's best if she took the guest room; we can conjure a camp bed for Ron in mine, even if it is a bit cramped. Now, before you say anything else, I should tell you that both of them are of age and can do magic anytime they want. You might want to tell Uncle Vernon and Dudley that the first chance you get, just so they don't try anything stupid. If you stay away from us, we'll stay away from you. We won't be staying very long." With that, he led his two companions upstairs.

Petunia didn't move for several minutes. She didn't know what disturbed her most: the way her nephew just talked to her, the presence of a boy who's father blew apart her living room three years ago, or the girl with the hissing basket. She had barely said a word, but Petunia had the strangest feeling about her....

**********

The trio spent as much time as they could in Harry and Ron's small room. Since they were no longer very likely to be overheard by any of Voldemort's spies, they had decided to start working on a plan to find the missing Horcruxes. Unfortunately, they had little more then what Harry had learned from his "special lessons" with Dumbledore to work with. While he had taught Harry a lot about Voldemort's history, the old wizard had said very little about how to find the Horcruxes the Dark Lord had created, and nothing at all about destroying them.

Hermione, borrowing an idea from the Marauder's Map, charmed a roll of parchment so a password was needed to read it. Harry asked her where she learned the spell.

With a shy look she told him, "I got Sirius to tell me a bit about they made the Map before he died."

Creating a secure way to store what clues they had didn't help all that much, for they still didn't have a lot to work with.

They had four objects to find. One of them, a locket that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin, had been stolen by a disgruntled Death Eater with the initials R.A.B.. Another was a snake named Nagini - she'd most likely be near Voldemort and it was quickly agreed that she should be handled last, if possible. There was too big a chance of her death alerting the enemy to their plans. They had no idea where the cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff could be. The last Horcrux was even harder to decide on since they didn't even know what it was. All they knew was that it had once belonged to either Godric Gryffindor or Rowena Ravenclaw.

"It has to be something of Ravenclaw's," Hermione stated on the third day of work, "as far as I know, Gryffindor never kept many truly personal possessions. About the only things of his I've ever read about were his wand, which was cremated with his body; his mail coat, that was destroyed in one of the goblin rebellions; and his sword, which Harry found in the Sorting Hat."

Harry looked up when she said that. "I always wondered how the sword landed up in there."

She made a helpless gesture. "I wish I knew. All I can tell you is that it had been missing for centuries."

"That's all well and good, Hermione," Ron cut in, "but it still doesn't give us a clue where to start!"

As much as his two friends didn't want to admit it, Ron had a point. Right now, they simply lacked the information they needed to begin their search.

"It's all right Harry, we've only been working on it for a few days. We knew this wasn't going to be easy or get done overnight. If it was, someone else would have done it a long time ago," Hermione calmly told him.

Despite her reassurance, Harry got the impression that she believed the three of them were in over their heads -- and part of him couldn't help feeling the same way.

**********

The next morning they decided to take a break from their work since they weren't getting anywhere. This suited Hermione just fine, because there was something else she wanted to investigate.

Hermione, unlike most girls, wasn't ruled by her emotions. A few of her classmates had claimed she she didn't even have feelings, but in truth she had very strong ones -- she just kept them under tight control most of the time. Emotions just weren't reliable in her opinion, so instead she relied on books, logic, and her own carefully trained intellect to guide her actions. She had her reasons. There was a part of herself that she couldn't rationally explain, a secret she'd never shared with anyone. It was always there, under her bossy know-it-all exterior, but very few people seemed to notice that particular aspect of her anymore.

But after three days in the Dursley house, she couldn't ignore the warnings she felt from that distant corner of her soul any longer. She had never liked the Dursleys, even though she had barely met them before. But the scattered encounters she had with them showed her just how unpleasent they truly were. As if the dirty looks she received from his aunt and the angry sneers from his uncle weren't bad enough, Dudley gave her a very disturbing leer on the second day of their visit. Fortunately, she didn't have to deal with him by herself.

"Leave her alone, Diddykins," Harry warned his cousin, "unless you want her to finish what Hagrid started."While Hermione didn't know what her friend was talking about, it was enough to positively terrify Dudley Dursley.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one who didn't get along with Harry's relatives. Ron kept brandishing his wand, and talking about his brothers as he walked around the house. Crookshanks made it even more clear that he didn't approve of this house or like its owners, despite his inability to speak. Hermione's cat followed her like a furry bodyguard everywhere she went, hissing and baring his claws at any of the Dursleys who crossed his path. At night, he wouldn't let her sleep unless she put a locking charm on her door first. While Hermione might not trust her own instincts, her half-kneazle familiar was never wrong about people. If Crookshanks didn't like these Muggles, she was sure he had a good reason.

Today she had her chance to take a good look around. All of the Dursleys were out of the house for once: Vernon was at work, Dudley hadn't even come home last night, and Petunia was out shopping. It was the prefect opportunity for her to figure out just what was going on here.

Hermione entered the smallest bedroom that morning and found Ron digging through his trunk. She quickly looked around.

"Good morning, Ron, where's Harry?"

"Taking a shower" was his absent-minded response. "Have you seen the stuff we got from the twin's shop? I thought we'd give Harry's berk of a cousin a little surprise."

"No," she said stiffly, "but I did want to talk to you. About the Dursleys."

"What about them?" he growled.

"You've been here before, did you notice anything -- off about them?"

Ron finally looked at her. "I don't know, only met them once and it's not like we stayed for tea or anything. Then again, Harry never really told me why they put bars on his window that one...."

Her eyes went wide. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'THEY PUT BARS ON HIS WINDOW'?!" she shrieked. Hermione pointed at the door, "Was that lock there? Why didn't you tell someone?"

Her redheaded friend raised his hands in surrender. "Woah, calm down Hermione! I told Mum and she threatened to do the same thing to my window! I think the lock was there, I remember George having to pick it so him and Fred could get Harry's trunk." He spoke very fast, afraid she'd hurt him if he didn't.

Deciding that she'd heard enough, the young witch started giving orders.

"Ron, I need you to keep Harry busy. Play chess with him, prank his cousin -- I don't care, just don't tell him what I'm doing. Crookshanks, would you keep an eye out for the Dursleys?"

The cat bristled and spat.

"You want to help me?" she tried again.

This time he purred.

Hermione sighed, "Okay. Hedwig, would you let me know if any of Harry's relatives come home?" The snowy owl seemed to nod in answer. She had been waiting for them when they came to Privet Drive.

"What are you going to do?" came a nervous voice.

"Find out what Harry isn't telling us."

**********

Hermione spent hours trying to find some clue about what had been going on in this house. She now understood what Tonks meant when she called the place "unnaturally clean" but it barely scratched the surface. Being in this house was almost like being in a museum; in that it was pretty to look at but somehow lacked the feeling of being actually lived in. Based on what she'd seen of them and their home, the Dursleys seemed to have an obsession with what others thought of them. Perhaps her recent experience with Horace Slughorn had something to do with it, but Hermione got the impression that everything here existed for the sole purpose of conveying a particular image of its owners.

Everything, that is, except Harry Potter.

Harry's bedroom door had caught her attention days ago -- it was set up to be locked from the outside and had a cat flap at the bottom. Ron's story about when he and his brothers had saved their friend years ago had made her start drawing a very ugly picture in her head. She had a sneaking suspicion that, for reasons she'd never understand, Harry's relatives had turned his room into some kind prison cell during the summer before their second year .

As she searched, more things about this house failed to add up. Harry had been living here for sixteen years, but the house didn't show the slightest sign of his presence. However, it did show her that the Dursleys weren't hurting for money. Furthermore, if his relatives had money, why was Harry always dressed in old clothes at least three sizes bigger then his skinny frame? Which led to another problem: judging by the sheer mass of his uncle and cousin, there was no shortage of food in this house. So why then had Harry always been so small and thin? At least he'd been at Hogwarts during his main growth spurt. The meals there had made sure he reached his current, very attractive -

Hermione shook her head violently; this wasn't the time to be thinking of those things.

She was considering the idea of talking to the neighbors when she saw Crookshanks pawing at the door to the cupboard under the stairs. Deciding she had nothing to lose, Hermione undid the latch and crawled into the tiny room. Even with the light on, she found it to be a rather dark and dreary place.

"You think there's something in here?" she asked her familiar, brushing a spider out of her hair.

Climbing over her, the cat sniffed around until he settled on one spot in an inner corner, under the lowest shelf.

Turning around in the cupboard proved difficult at best, and she had to move her bandy-legged cat as well. Lying on her side with her feet sticking out the door, Hermione moved the various odds and ends around until her fingers found an oddly shaped object. It turned out to be a small toy in the form of a mounted knight. Turning it over revealed the name "Harry" crudely scratched into the base.

How did it get here? Why was it in this cupboard? Sitting up with these thoughts in her head, she noticed the air vent in the cupboard door. The feeling of being a small, unwanted child who was locked away because they didn't fit their relatives' notion of propriety settled over her and refused to leave.

"No...." she told herself, "They couldn't have.... It's your imagination, Her-"

"Hermione?"

Snapping her eyes open, Hermione saw Harry's lean silhouette standing outside the cupboard. She'd been so caught up in her thoughts, she hadn't heard him come downstairs.

**********

Ron Weasley was a great chess player, but a lousy actor.

Harry had asked where Hermione was shortly after he finished his shower. As he set up his pieces for a game of Wizard Chess, Ron said that she was having a lie-in. The games passed in the normal fashion -- Ron won, but it seemed liked he was spending far more time between moves than usual. There was no sign of Hedwig or Crookshanks either.

When Ron finally took a trip to the loo, Harry went to check on the female member of their little band. He was surprised to find her door unlocked, the bed neatly made, and the room completely empty.

Rather than waiting for another cover story, Harry headed downstairs to find Hermione -- hopefully before anything happened between her and any of the Dursleys. Not that he thought she couldn't take care of herself; she was the brightest witch he knew, after all. He just didn't trust his relatives any farther then he could throw them.

A quick glance showed that she wasn't in the silent living room. Then a soft noise drew him to the hallway where he saw two denim-covered legs sticking out of the cupboard with a large ball of orange fur sitting next to them. Unwelcome memories of the ten years that place served as his room flooded his mind. Pushing those bleak feelings aside, he peered in and called Hermione's name.
With a very surprised "Harry!", she quickly climbed out of the cupboard.

"What were you doing in there?" he asked in a harsh, but worried, tone.

Hermione seemed to tremble a bit as she said, "I...I was just...looking for something."

"Did you find it?" he inquired further.

"Maybe." She steadied herself as she passed a small object into his hand.

Harry recognized his forgotten toy almost immediately, but tried to hide his reaction as best he could. "If you needed something, why didn't you ask me about it?"

"Would you have told me?" she answered with a calculating look.

The bad feeling he had got worse. "Why...? Hermione, what are you on about?" Harry asked without thinking.

"You tell me, Harry." she said with a forced calm, "Tell me why your aunt and uncle found it necessary to lock you in your bedroom after putting bars on the window. Or maybe you can explain why they would hide all evidence of your existence. How about telling me exactly why you had to owl Ron and me for food three years ago when your uncle and cousin can barely fit through that door! Speaking of size, why do you always wear your cousin's old clothes when they're clearly too big for you?" Hermione's voice cracked with the last sentence. Then, to make one last point, she stepped closer to Harry and gently touched his glasses. "When we first met, your glasses were being held together with tape. How did they get broken, Harry? Why weren't they replaced?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron come down on the staircase behind him and inadvertently cut off his only retreat. He knew there was no way to avoid telling her now, not with Hermione standing so close he could almost feel the warmth of her body. Her eyes were far worse though, and he found himself unable (or was it unwilling?) to look away from them. This close, he could see the finest details in those remarkable brown orbs, and every one of them was radiating her concern for him.

"Harry, please..." she pleaded with him.

"I don't know what to -" He stopped when those pretty eyes narrowed into her don't-mess-with-me look. "- I mean, where to start."

Letting out a relieved sigh, she grasped his hand in hers and led him into the kitchen.

"You can start with the beginning."

**********
end chapter 3

Lies and Illusions
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, this is a work of fanfiction.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 4
Confronting the Dursleys


Hermione didn't stop until they were seated the Dursleys' dinner table.

"Okay, Harry, start talking," she said bluntly

He couldn't understand why Hermione was so upset with him. Unless it was the way he spoke to her after she climbed out of the cupboard. He had no reason to act like that, it wasn't like she'd been doing anything wrong. But he did find it very distrubing to see her sitting in the tiny space he'd been forced to call a bedroom for so long.

"Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't -"

"That's all right. I'm not mad at you, just worried." Releasing a deep breath, she turned to face her best friend. "Even with all the fights we've been having these last few months, we never stopped being friends. As your friend, I couldn't help being worried by some of the things I've been seeing around here. Harry, I know that you and your relatives don't get along...but there's more to it, isn't there? There's a reason why you don't like to talk about them."

In a half-hearted last attempt to avoid her questions he said, "You don't talk much about your parents -"

"- Only because there isn't much to say, and don't change the subject." Raising her voice, Hermione called out, "Ron, stop hiding and get in here!"

The gangly redhead quietly took a seat across the table from them, after grabbing a bag of crisps off the counter.

"Sorry, I thought you wanted to be alone," Ron said sheepishly.

Hermione gave Ron a brief glance. "What are you...? Never mind, I don't want to know. Now, Harry, tell us what's going on between you and the Dursleys, and why you're so sensitive about that cupboard under the stairs. Don't tell me it's nothing, I know you better than that."

Under her intense stare, Harry reluctantly told his friends the story of his life before he found out that he was a wizard. Although they had both known parts of it for years, neither of them had asked for the details until now.

The stories about his bursts of uncontrolled magic before starting Hogwarts didn't surprise them. Such incidents were common among young witches and wizards. Hermione recalled a time when she made the pens carried by some girls who tormented her explode -- drenching them from head to toe. "Took them weeks to get it all off, and no one could believe how much ink sprayed from their pockets. My parents were surprised to say the least, and it took us forever to find out why it happened."

"If you think that's something," Ron laughed, "you should have seen what my family was like. One of us was getting upset and having bits of magic going off like every other week. Fred and George especially, but Mum's convinced they were doing it on purpose. Eventually, Dad started putting extra enchantments on the house because they were tired of fixing it all the time."

Unfortunately; Harry soon brought an end to the light mood, along with Ron's appetite. Like the Weasleys, Vernon and Petunia Dursley knew what the strange events occuring around their nephew meant -- and did everything in their power to put a stop to it.

From the very beginning, his aunt and uncle had tried to keep him as downtrodden as possible. Hardly a day went by without him being told he was nothing but a worthless burden to his "poor, hard-working family". Whenever he had one of his magical outbursts, they'd lock him in his cupboard for days at a time as punishment. Meanwhile, they constantly complained about Harry's behavior while ignoring the fact that Dudley and his gang were beating up every kid in the neighborhood.

There was more, of course; and as Harry told his friends about his life at Privet Drive, an odd feeling started flowing through him. Suppressing his emotions was neccessary to survive in this place, and to control his powers. But while he talked about his experiences, he began to feel both sickened and enraged by his relatives' actions.

Hermione's tear-filled eyes never left him as he talked. Harry could feel her trembling slightly as she held his hand in a tight, but comforting, grip. By the time he got up to the Dursleys intercepting his first Hogwarts letters, her expression had gone from one of concern to barely controlled fury. It wasn't often that Hermione looked like she wanted to hit someone (though she did slap Malfoy once), but this was clearly one of those times.

It took several minutes for anyone to find their voice after Harry had finished.

"Blimey, I knew you didn't get along but I never thought..." Ron said, looking rather green. "Why didn't you tell anyone? Mum and Dad would've taken you in, no problem."

"Would they?" Harry scoffed at the notion. "Dumbledore himself decided to put me here. Do you honestly think any decent witch or wizard would have gone against his wishes? It was fucking Snape all over again: if Albus Dumbledore thinks it's right -- it must be because he's the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

Hermione added in a subdued voice, "But Professor Dumbledore was still human and occasionally made mistakes, like trusting Snape and putting you here. Maybe the real problem was that no one ever questioned his judgment."

"I know what you mean," Harry said with a mischevious grin. "We all need someone like Hermione Granger around to beat some sense through our thick skulls once in a while."

"HARRY!"

Turning a bright shade of red, Hermione lightly slapped his fingers to make him release her hand. Harry felt his own face heat up when he saw the unusual smirk she was giving him.

Ron swallowed his laughter when Hermione started glaring at him. "So what do we do now?" he asked casually. "I say we get the bloody hell out of here."

Her cheeks still bearing a trace of pink, Hermione nodded as she stood up. "Good idea. Come on Crookshanks, we're leaving." The huge ginger cat jumped in her arms.

"Yes, I've stayed here long enough," Harry agreed. Taking a last look around the room he amended himself, "More than long enough. So, where are we going?"

Hermione quickly answered, "Leave that to me, I know where we can go. Plus, I also have the perfect way for us to say goodbye to this place."

She explained her plan without going into certain details like where they were going, saying it was a surprise. With Harry and Ron each suggesting a few touches of their own, it took a while for them to work out all the details. They were going over it one last time when they heard Hedwig hooting upstairs. The clock on the wall read a quarter to three.

"Someone must be home, I asked her to keep watch for us." Hermione said.

"We'd better get going," Harry said, feeling more confident then he had all day. "By the time we make sure all my stuff is packed, the whole lot will be here."

Petunia came in the front door as they started up the stairs. With a sour expression she called out, "What are you fre- "

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you, Petunia Dursley," Hermione said acidly while trying to keep her cat from attacking the woman. "For your information -- we were eating, and talking, and now we're leaving."

"Leaving? What do you mean you're leaving?" Petunia said blankly.

Harry looked directly at his aunt's horse-like face. "I think it means we're going away and not coming back," he said sarcastically.

"Even if You-Know-Who's nutters blow your door in!" Ron called down from the top of the stairs.

"Don't worry, Aunt Petunia," Harry went on, "we'll take care of everything. Including a proper thank you for everything you've done over the years..."

"...If we can decide which curse to use," Hermione muttered as she followed the boys upstairs.

**********

The boys started packing their things as Hermione quickly went to the guest room to fetch her trunk and Crookshanks' wicker basket. It took several minutes to catch Pig as he fluttered excitedly around the ceiling. By contrast, Hedwig climbed in her cage and closed the door once she saw them packing.

"I guess she's had enough of this place too," Ron commented.

Between them, the trio turned Harry's tiny bedroom upside down to ensure nothing of his was left behind. By five o'clock, not one item belonging to Harry Potter could be found in the house. The only thing left in the smallest bedroom, besides the barely held together furniture, was a pile of old clothes on the bed. Hermione insisted that he only keep enough of the oversized Muggle items to last until they could buy him new ones.

"Which will be tomorrow," she sternly announced.

With the last of their trunks packed, the three of them made the final preparations for their departure. None of them had ever tried the spell Dumbledore used to transport Harry's things to the Burrow last summer, and they weren't going to take any chances with it today. So instead, they once again used a charm to make the trunks feather-light. Once that was done, their brilliant witch transfigured some old socks into straps so they could wear them like backpacks. With everything ready; Harry, Ron and Hermione picked up their respective pet cages and headed downstairs, pulling their trunks behind them.

A quick glance told them the front door was being blocked by Dudley's large, blonde, stupid presence. Harry gave him a wide smile as he and his friends backed up to give themselves some room.

"Hey Dudders! Come to see us off? You'll be sorry to hear that I'll miss you about as much as the Blast-Ended Skrewts we studied in...."

A loud noise behind them turned out to be Vernon Dursley, he must have come home early. The two wizards shared a look with the witch standing behind them as they all set their pets on their trunks by the wall.

"Did you want something, Mr. Dursley?" Hermione's innocent question wasn't matched by the disgusted look on her face.

Vernon gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke. "You three come waltzing in here and disrupt our lives without so much as a by-your-leave, and now expect to just walk out? If you think you're going away without giving us proper compensation, you are sorely mistaken."

"Compensation? Are you mental?" Ron blurted out first.

"I figured my not being here any more would be enough for you, it is for me," Harry said with a thin smile.

Hermione took on a far more serious tone with the man. "You have a lot of nerve to suggest that Harry owes you a damn thing after the way you've treated him! Don't bother acting surprised, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Not only are you in no position to make demands, you should be grateful you're not talking to the police."

"If you think you can come in here and threaten me, little girl, you are greatly mistaken. I'm not afraid of you or your freaky kind," Vernon growled at her.

"Really?" Hermione shot back. "Then why are you shaking? Worried that I'm going to stuff you in a cupboard like you did to Harry?"

Dudley's menacing smirk faded into an ugly frown. Petunia, perhaps having a better idea of what could happen if this went much further, appeared behind her husband and tried to convince him to just let the trio leave.

Throwing off his wife's restraining hand, Vernon stepped towards Hermione. From the other side, Dudley assumed a boxing stance as he marched in Harry's direction.

The trio didn't really want to fight Harry's relatives. At most, they planned to just tell them off on their way out the door -- if they encountered them at all. During their earlier talk however, Harry had expressed some reservations about the Dursleys' reaction to his departure: particularly his uncle's nasty temper and the possibility that he would demand money from him before they left. In light of this, they'd decided to make a plan for a little show of force if it was needed. Nothing that would get them in trouble or hurt anyone, but enough to get their point across.

Hermione, who had been holding her wand out of sight all this time, raised it in response to the sudden charge. A Banishing Charm struck Vernon Dursley with enough force to knock the wind out of him even as it sent his immense bulk flying back down the hall. The whole house shuddered when his dazed form crashed to the ground back where he'd entered the hallway.

At the other end of the house, Dudley had met a magical problem of his own. Before he'd gotten halfway to his cousin, he found himself being tied up with thick ropes conjured with a silent Incarcerous spell. Struggling for a moment, he toppled over with a loud thud as the two wizards switched places. With all the noise and confusion, none of the Muggles noticed Harry and Ron exchanging their wands as they moved.

Petunia screamed as her husband and son fell to the floor.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

"It's called defending ourselves, and we could have done a lot more." Hermione told her with a deadly glare. "Don't worry, you can get your son out of the ropes easily enough...after we're gone."

Vernon huffed as he got back up, "You're finished. You'll be expelled from that ruddy school of yours for sure this time. And you were so close, weren't you?"

Harry wearily shook his head, amazed that his uncle still thought he could scare him.

"You're assuming that Hogwarts will even reopen this fall," he said bitterly. "Since Professor Dumbledore was murdered a couple of weeks ago, there's a good chance it won't. Anyway; where I am doesn't matter, as long as it's far away from you."

"Next thing you know, he's going to say he's expecting some git from the Ministry to come and arrest us," Ron muttered under his breath.

"They're already up to their political ears in problems with Voldemort on the loose. Besides, I don't think I've annoyed Scrimgeour enough for him to have me put on trial again. It made the Ministry look really stupid the last time they tried it." Harry shrugged before adding, "If they do try something, the spells were all cast with your and Hermione's wands. Mine hasn't been used since we got off the train."

It was true, in matter of speaking. Harry hadn't used his wand to tie up his cousin since he was still restricted by the laws against underage magic. Borrowing Ron's wand, with his permission of course, allowed Harry to take advantage of a loophole in the way the laws were enforced to get a little revenge on Dudley without having to worry about the Ministry of Magic.

Seeing the Dusley's confused looks, Hermione explained in her best walking encyclopedia voice, "Although you're clearly aware of the laws barring anyone under the age of seventeen from performing magic away from school, you seem rather ingorant as to how the authorities actually enforce them. You see, while the Ministry is able to detect the use of magic in a location such as this, they can't trace it to a specific person. In order to determine exactly who performed the spells, they have to test the wand of the witches and wizards found at said location. Once they determine which wand belongs to whom, the investigators then use the Priori Incantatem effect to...."

"ENOUGH!" Petunia cried.

She stared at Hermione with a look of disgust, anger, and strangely -- recognition.

"I knew it, from the moment you stepped in this house...you're just like her. So brilliant...so insightful...so bloody perfect in everything you do! You took those ridiculous tests of yours last year, didn't you? Got top marks in the lot of them, am I right? No doubt you run all over that wretched school of yours, always sticking your nose in places it doesn't belong. Always claiming you're just trying to help, never mind the fact that some people don't want it!

As his aunt carried on, Harry stepped beside the girl she was yelling at.

"And you!" Mrs. Dursley redirected her rant at him. "Think your little stunt is funny, do you? I'm sure you'll all have a great laugh on your way to...to wherever you're going. Oh, your father absolutely loved playing his practical jokes on people and never had a care in the world what anyone else thought of them. As if it wasn't enough for you to look just like him, except for those wretched eyes, you had to be just like him in spite of everything we did! You even had to get your own hooligan of a best friend, and a girl who's exactly like she was! "

Harry had been watching his aunt with disgust. All his life he'd known that the Dursleys had hated him and his parents. Now, as he was preparing to leave this house forever, he was reminded just how deep that hatred went. A small part of him wondered just why they'd taken him in at all, but the rest of him simply couldn't bring himself to care.

"Do you really think we wanted to fight you?" Harry said angrily as he slid his wand into his pocket, motioning his friends to do the same. "A few years ago it may have been true, but not anymore. I won't bother to tell you why, because you wouldn't understand -- just like you couldn't understand what Professor Dumbledore was trying to tell you last summer. But there is something I wanted to say to you before I left."

He broke off his speech to help his friends strap the trunks on their backs. Once his own was secured in place, he picked up Hedwig in her cage. Harry stared at her with a weak smile as the white owl gently nipped his fingers in encouragement. He had wanted to tell the Dursleys off before he went away forever, but he couldn't find the words to express his feelings towards them.

Ron picked up Pig and stepped next to his best friends. Hermione retrieved her cat after whispering "You can do it" in Harry's ear.

Now with everything ready, Harry spoke the last words he would ever say in this house.

"Before he died," Harry said in a calmer tone, "Professor Dumbledore once told me he was amazed that I've never been attracted to the Dark Arts. I think I know why. It's because so many Dark witches and wizards I've met have reminded me of you. They're always going on about how great their families are, how much money they have, or how powerful the Dark Side is. But it's all a lie they use to cover up how pathetic they really are.

"I hate you. You made my life a living hell for as long as I can remember, and I will never forgive you for it. But I'm not Voldemort, and you have nothing to fear from me or my friends. We're leaving, and you will never see, or hear, from any of us ever again. Goodbye, Aunt Petunia."

Holding Hedwig's cage tightly, Harry firmly grasped Hermione's right hand. Ron grabbed her other arm as hard as he could and took a deep breath. With a loud pop, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley vanished from number four, Privet Drive and were never seen there again.

**********
end chapter 4

Lies and Illusions
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 5
False Assumptions


When the uncomfortable squeezing sensation faded, Harry found himself in an unfamiliar backyard surrounded by tall hedges. Quickly looking around to see where they were, his eyes fell on a modest, two-story country house.

"Perfect!" Hermione beamed as she undid the straps on Crookshanks' basket. Grinning from ear to ear she continued, "You can let Hedwig and Pig out. No one will bother them here."

The ginger cat barely stopped to sniff the air before scampering toward the house. He quickly disappeared through a flap in the back door.

Confused, Ron asked, "Hermione, where are we?"

Instead of answering him, she turned toward Harry after he let out a loud sigh. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Never better. It's just hard to believe I'm finally rid of them," Harry answered.

Leaving their trunks on the lawn for the moment, Hermione led them into the house. Harry felt a sense of quiet warmth flow over him as they walked past the beds of bright early-summer flowers and the comfortable-looking outdoor furniture scattered around the yard. While everything here was neat and well-tended, it gave him a welcomed feeling unlike anything he'd experienced on Privet Drive.

Entering the kitchen, they came upon a familiar woman wearing a simple skirt and blouse with her brown hair tied in a functional bun at the nape of her neck. With a startled movement, she looked down to see a purring animal winding itself around her feet.

"What the.... Crookshanks, what are you doing here? I thought you were with...HERMIONE!"

Well, that explains where we are, Harry thought. He'd seen Hermione's parents many times at King's Cross, but had only been introduced to them once. That was almost five years ago when they visited Diagon Alley the summer before his second year at Hogwarts. Watching the two of them embrace each other, he could clearly see who his female best friend got most of her features from.

Hermione's father came in before long, having heard the commotion coming from the kitchen. He was still wearing an unbuttoned dentist's smock over his shirt. After getting his own hug from his daughter he welcomed the teenage boys in.

"Nice to see you again Harry, Hermione has told us a lot about you over the years." Mr. Granger shook his hand and looked at Harry with the same brown eyes his daughter had.

"Bet she's hardly mentioned me," Ron groused, giving her a sidelong glance.

With a familiar small smirk her father answered, "Actually, she has mentioned you quite often -- but I won't repeat some of what she's said."

Harry chuckled as Hermione protested this insinuation. Receiving a light whack from his wife; Mr. Granger extended his hand to Ron, who accepted it with a wry grin.

"It's good to meet you again, sir. I hope we're not imposing -" Harry started to say.

"Oh nonsense," Mrs. Granger interrupted with a dismissing wave. "We have an extra bedroom and have been wanting to see more of our daughter for some time." Harry saw an uneasy look cross Hermione's face. "Why don't you take your things upstairs and unpack before dinner?"

The youngest Granger instantly perked up at the opportunity to finally show her parents some of what she could do. Walking back out to her trunk, she picked it up and disapparated. Returning downstairs , Hermione undid the enchantments on their other luggage while explaining the types of magic she had performed. Finally, she demonstrated the Locomotor charm on Harry's trunk as she led her friends up to their room. Once done, she hurriedly excused herself.

Sensing that something was bothering his friend, Harry followed her a few minutes later.

Softly knocking on her door, he entered to find her unpacking her trunk. A quick glance told him a lot of the girl who had grown up here. The furniture wasn't particularly fancy but did have a few feminine touches. Most prominent was the huge bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling flanked by a well-used desk under the window. Spread around the room were a few personal items of hers, like the framed poster of the Milky Way over her bed, and the stuffed lion on the dresser.

"Is something funny?"

Harry didn't realize he'd been smiling, "No, not exactly. It's just that this room is so...you."

Without raising her head she flatly said, "It should be, I've lived here since I was five." Stopping her work for the moment, she then went on talking in a faster but more placating tone. "Look, Harry, I know why you're here. This isn't what you expected and are a little disappointed. I'll understand if you'd rather stay somewhere else."

"But I don't. I wanted to thank you for bringing me here, among other things," he gently reassured her. While it was true that he had been surprised to find himself at the Grangers', he had no qualms about staying in her home. Even though he'd barely met them, he liked Hermione's parents and didn't understand why she thought he wouldn't want to be there.

For the first time since he entered her room, she looked looked at him. "You mean it? Really?" she asked breathlessly. A brief nod was all the confirmation she needed before practically leaping across the space between them to wrap Harry in a fierce hug.

Acting totally on instinct, Harry closed his eyes and returned her embrace. Being surrounded by the scent of her hair and feeling her soft form pressed against his body made him wonder why he'd never done this before. A warm sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt washed over him as he held her close. Deciding he could figure it out later, he pushed the feeling aside for the time being.

"Hermione, why were you worried about bringing me here?" he softly asked her.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said in his ear. "You love it at the Burrow with all the magic, noise, and Quidditch to keep you busy. All I have is a pair of dentists living in a plain, ordinary Muggle house. I love my parents dearly, but how can they compare to the Weasleys?"

Harry felt a lump in his throat when he heard these words. He liked Ron's family a lot, but they were a bit overwhelming sometimes. Normally, it didn't bother him very much after living with the Dursleys for so long. But if he'd grown up in a loving Muggle family like she did, he might have shared Hermione's view of the Weasley home.

Pulling away just enough to see her face he said, "Hermione, look at me."

When she reluctantly raised her head as he had asked, he continued, "You have a wonderful home and I don't care about your parents not being able to do magic." Reaching up, he gently wiped a happy tear off her cheek with his thumb. "There's no reason for you to worry about me liking it here, because I do. I'm just sorry you never invited me over before."

Feeling her arms tighten around his chest again, Harry drew her back into his embrace.

The two friends held each other a while longer without speaking. When they finally broke apart, Hermione paused to brush off her remaining tears. Taking a deep breath, she then darted forward to give him an all-too-quick peck on the lips.

Blushing furiously for the second time that day, she returned to her unpacking. Minutes passed before she finally broke the silence of the room by telling him, "You should go unpack, and remember to separate your dirty things so we can wash them." After another quiet moment, Hermione nervously added, "Look, Harry...if I went too far, just tell me and I won't do it again."

Snapping out of his daze he replied, "No...no, it's okay. I didn't mind." Gathering his jumbled thoughts, he turned to leave before adding with a sly grin, "I don't have much to unpack, by the way. You insisted on leaving most of my clothes at the Dursleys, remember?"

"Oh, right." she responded sheepishly.

Just before he disappeared out the door she called out, "Oh Harry!"

He poked his head back in.

"You might want to start shaving. Your cheek is getting a bit scratchy," she told him with a not-quite innocent smile.

**********

For as long as he remembered, Harry had dreamed of the day he would leave the Dursleys for good. The closest he'd come was back at the end of his third year when Sirius offered him a home - only to have it snatched away when Wormtail escaped. Now in this Muggle home in a small town outside of Bristol, he felt free for the first time in his life.

Harry wasn't lying when he said he'd liked staying here. It would also be true to say that it was completely unlike anywhere he'd ever been before.

Together, Neil and Kathleen Granger probably made as much as his uncle, but they didn't waste their time and money trying to impress everyone they met. Instead, they created a home with a warm, lived-in feel similar to the Weasleys' house. At the same time, the Granger house was far quieter then the Burrow. There were no banging pipes or ghouls in the attic, and the only explosions came from the television or the games on their computer. As Hermione had put it: it was a plain Muggle house...but to Harry, it held its own unique kind of magic.

The trio tried at first to work on finding the Horcruxes some more, only to hit the same dead ends. Even the extra books Hermione had here didn't help. For example: Hogwarts: A History spoke a lot about the Founders, but had nothing about any personal effects they left behind. Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts devoted an entire chapter to Voldemort's fall sixteen years ago, but contained almost nothing about Dark Lord himself -- other than a list of the better known people he and his followers had killed. Apparently the fear he inspired extended all the way to the books written in the magical world.

They weren't the only ones to notice this. Ron in particular was surprised to discover that the Grangers knew a great deal about wizard affairs. Most of their background knowledge came from the various books their daughter couldn't fit in her trunk. Their more recent information came from the Daily Prophet and notices from the Ministry and Hogwarts. Being Muggles, however, they had a very different take on what was happening in the magical world. This different point of view led to some very interesting discussions. Especially with Neil Granger, who had been a soldier in the British Army once. Although he had quickly become disillusioned with military life and left after his first enlistment, he'd never forgotten some of the things he'd learned.

One conversation in particular stood out in Harry's mind. Him and his friends were talking about the Death Eaters a few days after their arrival when they heard Mr. Granger come into the room. The teens tried to tell him they were working on a school project, but that only made him more interested.

"I've never understood something about this 'Voldemort' person," he said after hearing them out. "Now, people being afraid of him makes sense. Who wouldn't be scared of a homicidal maniac leading a gang of fanatics? What bothers me is this 'You-Know-Who' rubbish. Where did it come from, and what makes this man different from the other evil wizards in your world?"

The trio looked at each other for a moment, before Harry said, "Slytherin. There's some other stuff, but it pretty much comes down to him being a descendant of Salazar Slytherin."

The Muggle asked, "Wasn't he the Hogwarts Founder who was tossed out on his bum?"

"Yep, that's him," Ron said in a fit of laughter.

Hermione gave Ron an annoyed look as she added, "Unfortunately, some witches and wizards are obsessed with their magical heritage. The most obnoxious of them are always going on about how being a pure-blood makes them better than everyone else." She rolled her eyes.

Harry patted the girl sitting next to him on the shoulder. "And get shirty when someone like Hermione shows up and proves them wrong." Her glare changed into a warm smile when she looked at him.

"I see how it is...." Neil Granger gave his daughter and Harry a particular look. "This Voldemort has built a mystique around himself to attract followers and scare his enemies. Makes sense: why fight everyone when you can use propaganda to frighten most of them into submission?"

The teens continued their conversation even after Mr. Granger left. His reasoning made too much sense for them to ignore.

Harry probably knew more about Voldemort then anyone thanks to Dumbledore's 'special lessons', and he had shared a lot of it with his friends. Back when he was still known as Tom Riddle, Voldemort had been very good at deceiving people and had repeatedly framed others to cover his tracks. He also knew the value of manipulating people, thanks to Slughorn. While there was no denying that Voldemort was a very powerful wizard, was it possible for him and his Death Eaters to use such skills to make themselves look even more deadly?

Maybe, especially with so many of his most valued followers maintaining prominent positions in wizard society. Lucius Malfoy had been influencing the Ministry for years before being imprisoned, and with Snape inside the Order of the Phoenix....

A chill ran down Harry's spine when he thought about the Order. Many of the original members had been killed, or worse, by the Death Eaters. Could Severus Snape have been connected their deaths somehow? He had sent his master after James and Lily Potter when he'd overheard part of the Prophecy. Was it just an act of petty spite against his old school rival, or was it part of a plan to infiltrate and destroy the Order of the Phoenix? It was a horrible thought, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione would need more than some guesses based a Muggle's opinion before suggesting it to anyone else.

Unfortunately, their talk had led to yet another dead end. Unable to continue their quest at the moment, the trio ended up taking a holiday of sorts.

For Harry it was a very welcomed opportunity to relax and be himself. The Grangers had no problem accepting him as a guest in their home without worrying about the whole "Boy Who Lived" thing that followed him everywhere in the magical world. It was also a chance to rid himself of the last traces of his relatives, starting with getting a new wardrobe. Taking Ron to a department store turned into an adventure, as he soon became lost amid the various sights and sounds. By the time they were done, Harry had spent most of the Muggle money he had. However, any doubts he might have had about the cost were soon dispelled by the bright smile a certain young witch gave him as he threw the last of his cousin's old clothes in the garbage.

Over these few weeks, Harry couldn't help feeling a change in his feelings towards Hermione. For reasons he couldn't explain, the two of them seemed much closer and well...intimate then before. The two of them spent a lot of time together helping her parents out, visiting places Hermione loved growing up (the local bookstore was high on her list), or just relaxing. They also found themselves opening up to one another in a way they hadn't done before.

Despite all of his friends' attempts to include him, the third member of their party wasn't enjoying himself quite as much. As a pure-blood wizard, Ron hadn't been around Muggles very much, nor did he share his father's fascination with them. Now he found himself in a position not unlike what his friends must have gone through when they first went to Hogwarts. He was in an unfamiliar place, relying on Harry and Hermione to explain all these odd things to him, and having a very hard time adjusting to it. Don't get him wrong -- the house was very nice, and Hermione's mum and dad were an infinite improvement over Harry's relatives...but it just wasn't Ron Weasley's home.

All of them knew they wouldn't be staying with the Grangers for very long, and they soon learned when they'd be leaving. A few days after they arrived, the trio found their invitations to Bill and Fleur's wedding in the morning post. Inside they found a note from Molly Weasley asking them to come to the Burrow no later than the first of July.

**********

On the last Friday they'd be spending at the Grangers, Ron decided to have a talk with Harry about some recent developments.

"You know, Harry, when we go home you're going to have to deal with Ginny. Especially when she sees you and Hermione," he said.

Harry answered back with a confused look as he finished getting dressed, "What are you on about?"

Ron gave him a knowing smirk, "Come on, I may be a bit thick but don't think I haven't noticed how the two of you have been acting lately."

"I'm not following you, Ron, so can you just spit it out?"

"Okay. Did you break up with my sister because you want to be with Hermione?" he said bluntly.

"Are you mental?" Harry tried his best to keep his voice level, "I told you why we broke up!"

"True, but I was just wondering if that was the only reason." Ron took up a conciliatory tone as he went on. "Look, like it or not, you'll have to deal with this when we go home next week. I know for a fact that Ginny'll go through the roof if she sees you sitting with Hermione in your lap!"

"We're not like that and you know it," Harry said defensively. "Even if we were, why would your sister get upset? She didn't have any problems when I broke it off with her."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, mate. Ginny's had a crush on you for like...forever, and thinks you left her just to go off and be a hero. Maybe I should have told you before, but if you didn't know it already, Ginny and me pretty much grew up on the story of you beating You-Kno...I mean Vold...emort." Ron still had trouble saying the name, especially since he had been taught to fear it all his life, unlike his friends. "Anyhow; she's fancied you, or rather the Boy Who Lived, for I don't how long now. I'd bet everything I have that she thinks you'll get back together again once the war is over."

Harry was shocked that Ron Weasley, of all people, was talking like this. But he was probably right about his sister's feelings, she'd said as much when Harry ended their relationship.

As much as Harry had enjoyed their time together, looking back on it now, there seemed to be something off, and well...missing in their relationship. They'd spent a lot of time snogging and joking around, but that was about it. While he didn't enjoy breaking up with her, it wasn't particularly painful for them either -- which seemed kind of strange in hindsight.

Until this last year, Harry had never been attracted to Ginny in a romantic way. What's more; he had never really asked himself just why he fancied her all of a sudden, being far more worried about Ron's reaction to his best friend dating his little sister. Thinking about his feelings wasn't something Harry Potter did very often: the Dursleys never approved of it. Now that he did, it seemed like his comment about dating Ginny being like something from another person's life was more accurate than he'd thought. Of course, there was also the matter of a statement he'd heard on the Hogwarts Express later that same day.

"You don't suppose Luna was right, do you? That I was copying Ginny's crush on me somehow?" Harry asked Ron in a somber voice.

He thought about it for a moment. "Maybe, she's a Ravenclaw and must be pretty smart under all the weirdness." For some reason, Ron flashed a smile when he mentioned Luna Lovegood. "Perhaps your fling with Ginny had something to do with this power you're supposed to have."

"But Dumbledore said all I had was the ability to love. How could that have anything to do with me suddenly imitating your sister's feelings for me?" he said doubtfully as he started tying his shoes.

Ron shrugged as he opened the door. "Maybe he was wrong? It wouldn't be the first time."

True, there could be something the old headmaster didn't know about. Now if there was, how would Harry figure it out?

Stupid question, Harry berated himself. The answer was a young woman with bushy brown hair and big brown eyes named Hermione Granger. Of course, thinking of her in light of his talk with Ron made him consider what was happening between the two of them. It was nothing like how he fell for Ginny at any rate: there was no scaly monster stirring in his chest this time. Although he wasn't sure what his new feelings for Hermione meant, at least he understood where they came from.

They'd liked each other, as friends, for years; but they had never been as close as some people believed -- including themselves. Ever since they became friends; both of them had simply, almost blindly, accepted the other's friendship without really confiding in one another. The gulf that had existed between them had become painfully obvious this year, and was one of the main reasons for their fighting. But since going to the Dursleys; Hermione had gotten a look at his old life, and had given him a glance at hers in return. Doing so had broken some of the illusions they used to have and helped repair their friendship. At the same time, however, something else had started taking root between them.

It was the something else that Harry Potter couldn't explain. He'd fancied girls before, but this wasn't the same.

His feelings for Ginny, whatever their source, weren't very different than his old crush on Cho Chang. But Harry was beginning to realize that there was more to being a boyfriend than wanting to snog a pretty girl. Not that Hermione wasn't just as beautiful as the girls he'd dated. She simply had better things to do every day than worry about her hair and makeup. When she did put an effort into her looks, it was for a special occasion and the results....

Unfortunately, Harry couldn't remember the first time he'd seen her dressed up without recalling another person's reaction.

"Um, Ron. You don't have some other reason to ask about Hermione and me? Everyone knows you haven't liked the blokes she's gone out with -"

The redhead covered his face as he said, "Don't remind me! I feel like a horse's arse every time I think about it!"

The two best friends stopped halfway up the stairs. After taking a quick look around to make sure he wasn't being overheard, Ron started talking again.

"Look, Harry, I admit that I was jealous of Hermione but it wasn't because I fancied her." he reluctantly told his friend, looking him square in the eye as he continued. "Now this is going to sound really stupid, mostly because it is stupid. I was mad at first because she was dating and I wasn't, and couldn't understand what guys like Krum could see in her. And when Ginny decided to spout off a bunch of stuff she knows nothing about, I kinda lost it. Part of the reason I started dating Lavender was to shut my sister up, but I landed up throwing it in Hermione's face too. Naturally, the whole thing backfired on me; but I didn't care. Now you don't have to tell me how thick I was -- I figured it out on my own after I got the 'Bludger to the Head' I so desperately needed last March."

Harry winced at the Quidditch metaphor, for he had gotten hit in the head by a very real Bludger only a few days later. Not wanting to dwell on these events either, Ron quickly went on with his story in a more lighthearted tone.

"Anyway, a lot of the stuff I used to get all worked up about didn't seem so important after that. I apologized to Hermione for my behavior the first chance I got. Then we talked a lot, kinda settling our differences, and have been on good terms ever since."

Turning around, Ron walked the rest of the way down the stairs - only to stop at the bottom.

"You want to hear something funny?" He looked up at Harry with a wide grin. "Lavender thought Hermione and I were secretly dating each other! Some old posh about repressed feelings and sexual tension if you can believe it!" Ron groaned under his breath. "I should have listened to Hermione when she told me she had a nutter for a roommate. It would have saved me from those damn canaries of hers, at least."

Ron walked away, shaking his head. Behind him, Harry stood still for a moment as he processed what his best friend had said. Quietly resolving not to tell Ron that Lavender Brown wasn't the only one who though him and Hermione might get together, Harry hurried to catch up.

Outside the kitchen, they heard Hermione and her mother talking.

"Do you think they'll like it? It's not like -"

Sounding like she was trying to calm her daughter, Mrs. Granger replied, "It'll be fine dear. But you might want to watch what you spend, in case you decide to see the other ones while you're there."

By the sound of her voice, Hermione wasn't convinced.

"I don't know...Harry's never seen any of them thanks to those blasted relatives of his, and Ron's feeling put out just being in a Muggle house. How will -"

The older woman chuckled a bit. "Some day, young lady, you're going to tell me just how you do that."

Harry and Ron stood by the door as quietly as they could as Hermione, who hadn't seen them, looked up from the newspaper she was reading.

"Just what am I supposedly doing, Mum?" she asked defensively.

Kathleen Granger shook her finger at Hermione, "Your father and I may not completely understand you, Hermione, but don't try to tell me that we don't know you. Just like you know what I'm talking about: the trick you've been doing ever since you started primary school. The way you -"

"Harry! Good morning!" Hermione had spotted them while trying to avoid her mother's gaze and took the opportunity to escape the conversation.

Harry briefly wondered what it was all about, but let the subject drop as Hermione greeted him with a smile and quick hug.
**********

After breakfast they all left the house together. Hermione's parents went to work and the trio made their way across town. Along the way the two wizards kept asking what she was up to, only to receive a cryptic "You'll see" in return.

When they reached their destination, Harry and Ron found that she was taking them to the cinema. However she remained secretive about what they were seeing, even as she pulled the tickets out of her purse. Between listening to Hermione's lecture about how to behave during the show and watching Ron already stuffing his face with popcorn, Harry didn't notice which theater they entered. Finding a place to sit, the boys settled themselves on either side of her just in time to see a group of words appear on the screen:

**********
end chapter 5
author's note: The Star Wars Special Edition was released in spring of 1997 and belongs to George Lucas, of course.

Lies and Illusions
Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling so Harry Potter isn't mine.

Author's note: Due to personal reasons, my beta hasn't reviewed this chapter. Therefore, any errors in it are strictly my fault.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

chapter 6
A Private Talk

Going to the cinema proved to be a wonderful way to end their stay in the Muggle world, and the choice of movie couldn't have worked out better. Ron sat in amazement as the images and story played out before him. Harry was equally enthralled by what he saw, particularly the concept of the Force and the wizard-like Jedi Knights who used it. Their enthusiasm grew even more when Hermione brought up the fact that the other two films in the Star Wars series were also playing there. Quickly budgeting their remaining funds, the trio went back in front to get tickets for The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi.

Harry fondly recalled the experience several days later as he helped load their things in the Grangers' car. They'd sent Hedwig and Pigwidgeon ahead last night and shrunk their cages to make more room. Meanwhile, Hermione fretted over whether or not to leave Crookshanks with her parents. The cat settled the matter himself by jumping in the car the first chance he got, and refusing to budge until his mistress allowed him to come.

He couldn't deny being a little sad on the grey, damp morning his unplanned vacation came to an end. In the few weeks they'd been there, he'd grown rather attached to this place and didn't really want to leave. But on the other hand, Voldemort was still out there somewhere. No one would be safe until they stopped the Dark Lord for good, and in order to do that Harry and his friends had to return to the magical world.

After an uneventful drive, Ron's lopsided home came into view. As Neil Granger drove up the gravel driveway two figures with flaming red hair came out to greet them. Molly Weasley was easy to spot with her short, plump form. The taller figure turned out to be the groom-to-be. Bill Weasley's handsome face was now scarred from his encounter with Fenrir Greyback - a psychotic werewolf who had been part of the group of Death Eaters who invaded Hogwarts last month. Harry wasn't sure what became of him after the battle. The last he saw, Greyback was lying on the castle floor after being immobilized by a Full Body-Bind spell. Hopefully, someone remembered to lock that sick son-of-a-bitch up before it wore off.

At least Bill was luckier then Greyback's other victims, many of whom were children who he bit and passed on his Lycanthropy to -- like Remus Lupin. Since it hadn't been the full moon when Bill was attacked, he hadn't become a werewolf. However; his wounds were cursed in a way that prevented them from being fully healed, and Bill had taken on one or two slightly wolfish personality traits as a result.

Greetings were exchanged all around as they got out of the car and unloaded their baggage. As they entered the house, scattering chickens as they went, Ron asked what his eldest brother was doing home at this time of the day.

"Since word of this got out," Bill snarled as he waved a hand over his face, "some damn fool at the Ministry has been raising a stink about Gringott's employing me. She keeps going on about some law or other. Last week the stupid bitch showed up and started making all sorts of demands, throwing her weight around, and -"

Harry shared a glance with Hermione and said, "Hold on -- this cow's name wouldn't happen to be Dolores Umbridge by any chance?"

Bill laughed. "None other. I'm not surprised you remember her. She's pretty hard to forget, no matter how hard you try. In any case, I'm on holiday until the goblins get it straightened out, or feed her to the dragons -- whichever comes first."

Not seeing the Grangers' stunned expressions, Ron gave his brother a sly grin. "Any chance of them selling tickets to that?" he asked

Harry gave him an incredulous stare. "Why would anyone pay to see a dragon throw up?"

"Now Harry," Mrs. Granger said over the laughter, "this woman may be a nasty piece of work, but -"

Hermione politely interrupted her mother. "Believe me, Mum -- as bad as they make her out to be, the reality is far worse," she told her evenly.

**********

After eating lunch at the Burrow, Hermione's parents got ready to leave. Just outside the house; her father pulled Harry aside.

"There's something I wanted to give you. Call it an early birthday present." He handed the wizard a small package.

Harry unwrapped the parcel. Inside, he found an old British Army manual with a few bright tabs sticking out the side.

"I found it in some of my old things and thought it might interest you," Mr. Granger explained. "The tabs mark the sections I believe you'll find the most useful. The weapons may vary, but war itself doesn't change very much...unfortunately." His eyes became distant.

The young wizard quietly stared at the book for a few minutes. Wizards had no equivalent of Her Majesty's Armed Forces. For one thing, there simply weren't enough magical folk around to form a fighting force on that kind of scale. More importantly: wars between magical governments, on almost any scale, would attract far too much attention and make their main job (convincing the Muggles that magic doesn't exist) virtually impossible. As a result, there were simply no such things as armies or soldiers in the magical world.

"Thanks, I'm sure it'll...." he trailed off. "Why?" Harry asked him.

Brown eyes stared at the young woman saying goodbye to her mother. "Whatever it is you're planning to do, It's dangerous and Hermione is going with you. There's nothing her mother and I can do to stop her, so we decided to try and help in any way we can."

Mr Granger turned to face Harry. "Let me give you a couple pieces of advice, as someone who...knows a bit about warfare. First and foremost: if you're going to fight this 'Voldemort' person...do it your way, not his. Second; always remember that a person who's alone on a battlefield is vulnerable, so always bring friends with you to watch your back."

Harry pondered what he just heard. Not so long ago, he would have found it hard to accept the idea of a Muggle aiding him in his fight against Voldemort. But now that he'd gotten to know the Grangers; he not only liked them, but had come to respect their opinions. Besides, he heard Hermione's voice say in his head, you need all the help you can get.

Once they reached the car, Kathleen Granger let go of Hermione and gave Harry a farewell hug.

"It's been a pleasure having you Harry, feel free to stop by anytime you want." She paused before nervously adding, "Take care of our daughter for us, will you? We love her dearly and couldn't bear...."

"She's usually the one keeping me out of trouble...." He tried to laugh, but failed miserably. "I'll do everything I can. In the meantime, you should keep an eye out too. These wizards go after Muggles sometimes, and Hermione would be devastated if anything -" He abruptly ended his friendly warning when he noticed the odd glance Mrs. Granger exchanged with her husband.

Saying one last goodbye, they got in the car. Harry stood next to Hermione with his arm around her waist as they watched her parents drive away. Neither teen moved from the spot until the automobile was out of sight.

**********

The Burrow had always been a hive of activity, but the preparations for the upcoming wedding made it pure chaos. Molly's plans to give the place a thorough cleaning were well underway before her youngest son and his friends arrived. No doubt she was trying to make up for the rotten way she'd treated her son's fiancee this past year. Of course, the way Fleur Delacour had told her off last month would be enough to make anyone think twice about crossing her.

Harry and Ron spent the afternoon de-gnoming the garden, setting up a new chicken coop, and rounding up the stray chickens. Hermione was inside helping clean the house while Mrs. Weasley kept barking out orders from the upstairs windows. Bill told them he had to make some "special arrangements" for the wedding and left for the day.

When the time came for Molly to start dinner, the trio were finally able to sit down and examine Harry's new book. The information it held bore very little resemblance to what they were taught in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps the biggest difference was the rather pragmatic attitude toward fighting it described. Dueling and other forms of "honorable combat" didn't exist as far as it was concerned. Instead, the army manual described things like mutual defense, coordinated attacks, setting ambushes....

"This almost looks like some kind of chess strategy," Ron commented as he examined one of the diagrams.

"That isn't surprising," Hermione answered. "Chess has been around for a long time and is sometimes used to describe certain types of fighting. Although you don't actually take turns in real battles and - "

Harry patted her hand, "We get it Hermione. But will it do any good?" he asked.

"It'll take some work, but there's no harm in trying." She gave him a thoughtful look. "Very few wizards know much about regular Muggle society, and the military is almost a world onto itself according to my dad. The main problem we have, aside from figuring out exactly what we can and cannot use, would be convincing the others on our side to go along with it. Just about everything in this book goes against the traditional methods of wizard com-"

She was cut off by the roar of a mass of green flames springing to life in the Weasleys' fireplace. A redheaded girl stumbled out of the fire muttering some rather un-ladylike words under her breath.

"Of all the stupid, useless rubbish I have to put up with this summer. Ruddy things are bad enough without having some swotty berk giving -"

Her grumbling was drowned out by an excited yelp from Luna Lovegood as she dove out of the flames headfirst.

Doing a somersault, she neatly rolled to her feet. "You should really try going through the Floo Network this way, Ginny. It's a lot more fun than the normal fashion, unless you time it wrong and hit your head on the back of the fireplace."

"So that's what happened," Ginny muttered under her breath.

Luna seemed unaffected by the wisecrack, unless it was the reason why she chose that moment to brightly say: "Hello Ronald! I heard you were coming home...it was today, right?"

Ron smiled as he got up. "Hi Luna. What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Daddy's off on an expedition he couldn't reschedule, so your parents invited me to stay until my O.W.L.s are done. I don't see what the big deal is about them, the tests themselves are so very boring. We took the Defense O.W.L. yesterday, and it didn't have a single question about stopping a rampaging Frond Crested Damogran. The examiner gave me the most remarkable stare when I asked her -"

Burying her horror under an impatient frown, Ginny quickly scanned the room. Her expression brightened when she finally saw a certain dark-haired wizard, but fell again when she saw him and Hermione sitting close together.

Harry had been quietly watching his ex-girlfriend all this time. Not out of any latent feelings for her so much as trying to see if there was anything to the comment Luna made last month. By the time Ginny's eyes found him, he was certain that the eccentric Ravenclaw was on to something. When the redhead took a step towards him, he abruptly decided to end his little experiment by turning away from her with a polite "Hello, Ginny.".

Since he was no longer looking her way, Harry didn't see the surprise on Ginny's face or the angry glare she gave Ron when he reached out and grabbed her arm. However, he did get a glimpse of Hermione's face as he gently took the manual from her hands. Confusion and a hint of sorrow floated in her eyes, but this wasn't the time or place for them to talk.

An uneasy silence (save for Luna humming to herself) reigned in the Weasley living room until Molly Weasley called from the kitchen.

"Ginny! You and Luna have a few minutes to get cleaned up before dinner. Oh, and go find Ron so he knows it's time to eat. Harry and Hermione should be with him too."

"We're already down here Mum!" Ron yelled back as he stepped between his friends and sister. Throwing a brotherly arm over Harry's shoulder when he finally got up, he led his friends out of the room whispering, "Better take the book upstairs before Dad sees it, you know how he is about Muggle stuff." Quickly checking to make sure Ginny was out of earshot, he added even more quietly, "You can thank me later."

Harry gave him a small nod as he headed for his room, but was too lost in thought to say anything.

**********

Dinner at the Burrow was its normal mixture of good food and steady talk. At one end of the table, Arthur and Luna listened quite intently to Ron's account of his stay with the Grangers, especially the part about their trip to the movies. Much to his discomfort, Ginny had commandeered the seat next to Harry and kept trying to draw him into the conversation. Hermione glanced at them from time to time, but said very little as she ate. Harry himself didn't feel very hungry, and slipped off to his room the first chance he got.

An hour later, he was lying on the bed trying to make sense out of what was happening to him. The more he thought about it, the odder it felt. Not just his relationship with Ginny, but his entire sixth year at Hogwarts. Something was going on that he couldn't put his finger on. Ron didn't know any more than he did, and talking to Luna would probably leave him even more confused. So, that left him with....

A soft knock on the door preceded Hermione shyly poking her head in. "Are you okay?" she asked. One look at him made her answer her own question. "Never mind, it's obvious you're not."

Closing the door behind her, she came over to sit on the foot of his bed. "I'm not surprised that you're having a hard time seeing Ginny again. Everyone at school could tell how much you liked each other and it's only natural for you to consider going back to her." There was the barest hint of sadness in her voice as she said the last part.

Harry responded in a distant tone. "I suppose, but dating Ginny again is the last thing on my mind."

"Really? Then why were you watching her so closely?" she asked, hiding her surprise.

Finally focusing on Hermione, he replied, "I was trying to figure out just what I felt for her a couple of months ago. Well, not exactly, more like whether or not those feelings were really mine. Now before you say anything, it's not just because of what Luna said."

She turned so she could see his face more comfortably.

"I admit I'm not all that fond of Luna Lovegood..." she started.

Harry snickered at her understatement, and earned himself a light slap on the arm.

"What do you expect?" Hermione said defensively. "The way she's always going on about one absurd thing after another. I could understand it if she was simply interested in the stories, but there's no logical reason for anyone to actually believe in any of those things! Anyway, we were discussing you and Ginny."

"Oh, right." Sitting up and folding his legs, he tried to express his thoughts as best he could. "Ron and I had a little talk last week. Ever since, I've been thinking about how his sister and me got together. I can't explain how or why, but something feels kind of...off about the whole thing. Like my feelings towards her weren't really mine."

Her brow furrowed at his statement. "Are you saying that you think Ginny used some kind of spell or potion to make you fancy her?" Not waiting for an answer, she sat up straighter and hurriedly said, "Tell me what happened, all of it. Maybe we can figure out what it was."

Despite her words, Harry knew she didn't want to hear too much about what him and Ginny did together. So he focused the parts that were causing him the greatest concern instead: what led up to their kiss in the Gryffindor common room, and their breakup. Hermione's gaze narrowed slightly when he told her about how Ginny admitted to still having a crush on him. She also listened very closely to his account of what Ron had to say on the subject, and what Harry tried to learn earlier this evening.

"You could say I was looking for the things I used to see in her...or some hint of just why I liked her that way," he explained.

Hermione had moved closer to him while he talked. Although she'd kept an impassive expression while listening to him, Harry could have sworn he saw something flicker in her eyes. Every once in a while she'd interrupt to ask a carefully worded question or two to help clarify his story.

Like now, when she asked, "And did you find it?"

He shook his head. "No, not really."

"I admit that the whole thing does seem rather odd the way you describe it, " she stated clinically. "Your symptoms don't sound like a love potion or an Enticing Enchantment . Although either one might explain your infatuation, they aren't supposed to make you feel like there's a monster in your chest. Of course, there's always the possibility that you simply developed a crush on her and got over it..." She pondered this for a moment. "Except, it doesn't sound like what happened when you were eyeing Cho Chang -"

Harry added with a roguish grin, "Or when you fancied Lockhart?"

Hermione tried to give him another playful whack for his comment, but Harry's lightning-quick reflexes allowed him to easily catch her hand

"I was thirteen!" Hermione protested as she tried to free herself -- only to have him capture her other hand too. "Harry, could you please stop flirting with me when we're talking about serious matters. It's distracting!" she blurted out.

A stunned silence enveloped them. The only sound being heard was Molly Weasley calling to her daughter from somewhere downstairs, telling Ginny to tend to her studies. They heard her loud stomping coming from the stairway, followed by a door slamming somewhere below them.

The idea of flirting with his female best friend had never consciously crossed his mind before. Admittedly, he did enjoy their banter a lot and wouldn't give it up for anything, but still....

"Sorry, I didn't realize.... I'll try to stop if it bothers yo-" he nervously told her.

"NO!" she said very fast. Her startled expression changed to a blush as she stammered, "I...I mean it's okay, you can flirt with me if you want. You're the only one who does." Flashing that particular grin of hers, Hermione then added, "Just try to develop a better sense of timing."

His face broke into a relieved smile of its own. Whatever was growing between them, Hermione seemed to be perfectly willing to let it continue.

Looking down, Harry realized that he was absent-mindedly stroking the back of her hands with his thumbs. They'd been doing things like this a lot lately. Holding hands, a quick hug or peck on the cheek from Hermione...little signs of affection they shared almost without realizing it. The very things Ron had alluded to last week, but which Harry had given little, if any, thought to -- until now.

As he thought about these things, a new question formed in his mind. One that he needed to know her answer to before anything else happened between them.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Do you think.... Is it possible for a person to...magically sense someone else's feelings without realizing it?" he carefully asked her.

It took her a while to respond. For several minutes, she sat with her mouth open and her eyes the widest he'd ever seen them.

Finally she asked in an astonished voice, "Do you think that's what happened between you and Ginny? You believe you -"

"Is it possible?" he gently pressed.

"I...I haven't read any books about an ability like that. Well, not exactly, I once found a reference to a very, very rare text that's supposed to have information about such things. There used to be a copy in the Hogwarts library, but it disappeared a long time ago and not even Madam Pince knows -" She was rambling, as Hermione often did when someone asked a question she didn't want to answer.

Gripping her hands a little tighter, Harry told her: "I'm not asking if you've read it someplace, Hermione. I need to know if you believe it's possible."

Returning his look, she gave in.

"No, I don't...believe it's possible -"

She took a deep breath and gave his hands a squeeze.

"I know it is," she said firmly. "I can't prove it, and I don't understand how it works...but I'm certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that some witches and wizards have an inherent ability to sense other people's emotions."

Something about the way she said it made the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand up. "How do you know?" he asked breathlessly.

She sat there biting her lip for a time, unable to move.

"Hermione, please tell me," he pleaded.

Taking a very deep breath, Hermione leaned as close to Harry as she could. Even with her so close, he could just barely hear the words she said into his ear.

"I know it because...I do it too."

**********
end chapter 6

Author's note: Swot (swotty) - to study, or one who studies hard. From the definition I read, it's a bit like the term "nerd" here in the States. Thought I'd mention it.

Lies and Illusions chp. 7
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. The song "Angel" belongs to Sarah McLachlan. Doing a little research, I found that the album it first appeared on was released shortly after this chapter is set.

Author's note: Hello, everyone; I'm sorry it's taken so long to post this. I got this chapter back from Anne some time ago, but I kept finding certain details I didn't like. Now that they're fixed, I can move on to the final editing of chapters 8 & 9. Hopefully, they won't give me the trouble this chapter did.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 7
Wedding Dance


Harry swore his heart stopped at Hermione's revelation.

"Say that again?" he asked in a breathless whisper.

Hermione had pulled back some, but was still close enough to hear him. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I can sense other people's feelings. Not all the time mind you. It mostly happens with particularly strong emotions, people I'm around a lot, or some combination thereof."

"Does anyone else know about this?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "You're the first person I've ever told. I try very hard not to let it show, but it gets the better of me sometimes -- as some people have noticed." A shy grin appeared on her face.

"Like Luna," Harry muttered.

"Yes, like Luna. She's a very observant girl when she wants to be -- a little too observant, if you know what I mean. My parents are the same way." Hermione gave a small laugh and hastily added, "Not weird, mind you; just very, very good at noticing certain things. Reminding me of that fact has become one of Mum's favorite games these past few years, much to my discomfort. Dad does the same thing, but is usually a bit more discreet about it."

Thinking about what Hermione was saying, Harry began to piece together the personality quirks these others had seen in his friend. Especially the insight she had into other people's emotions, even though she hid her own behind what she had once called 'books and cleverness'. But sometimes, usually when she was under a lot of stress, those feelings would explode -- leading her to do anything from giving him a desperate hug, to slapping Malfoy across the face, to sending a flock of irate canaries after Ron.

"How long have you been doing this?" Harry asked her.

"Since I was a little girl, not that I could ever explain it. Do you want to...." Her eyes met his.

Harry nodded without hesitation.

"We, my parents and I, first noticed it when I started primary school. I would...sense things from the other children, or feel a certain way for no reason. It was frightening, mostly because I didn't know what was happening, or why it was happening to me. Eventually, I had to figure out ways to control it just to stay sane.

"I've always enjoyed reading, Mum and Dad taught me when I was four. Burying myself in books and schoolwork helped to suppress the worst of my problems...along with making me the top student in my class." Hermione sat up a little straighter and flashed a proud grin as she said this, only to take on a somber expression when she started talking again. "But it came at a price. None of my old classmates wanted much to do with the bossy, over-achieving bookworm I'd become. My parents were always there to comfort me, but none of us had any idea what was causing my problem...until my first Hogwarts letter arrived, that is."

Closely watching her expressions as Hermione spoke, Harry found himself sympathizing with her plight. "So that's why you act the way you do," he said without thinking. Giving her hands a gentle squeeze he quickly added, "Not that I'm complaining. You've helped me more than you'll ever know, and I...." His voice faltered as he tried to express his feelings to her.

"Better late than never," she said quietly, "and your welcome."

With a bittersweet smile, Hermione returned to her story. "When I found out I was a witch, I thought that was the answer at first. Whatever was going on, it just simply one of the things people like us do. But when we got to Hogwarts, it soon became clear that it wasn't -- a fact which made the whole thing even more mysterious . However, I did manage to find some guys who were willing to be my friends...when they weren't being a couple of self-centered prats, that is." She tried to glare at him, but Harry sensed that her heart wasn't quite in it.

Still, a sheepish blush crept across Harry's face as he said, "Sorry, I never meant -"

A soft knock on the door was followed by Arthur Weasley poking his head in. Both Harry and Hermione started stammering explanations as they scrambled to opposite ends of the bed.

Acting like he hadn't seen a thing, Arthur brightly said,"There you are. Molly wants to start early tomorrow so you might want to kip out soon." The balding wizard checked the hallway behind him. "Look Harry; I know you're not dating my daughter anymore, but you two might want to be a little more careful in the future. Ginny isn't the only witch in this house who'd get upset if she saw you like this, and we all know what their tempers are like." With that, he disappeared out the door.

Once he'd gone, Harry and Hermione started breathing again. Out of the entire Weasley family, Arthur was the least likely to say anything about finding them together. Deciding they'd pressed their luck enough for one night, Hermione got up to leave.

Harry softly spoke to her at the door, "I promise I won't tell anyone Hermione. Do you-"

"We don't know anything for certain yet," she said briskly. "Even if you really do share this...gift of mine, I'm not sure what we can do about it. In any case, I swear that I'll try to help you anyway I can." She rose up on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. "Goodnight Harry."

In return, Harry gently placed his own brief kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

**********

Three more days of bustling activity preceded the wedding. Wednesday was spent repainting the Burrow inside and out. Enchanted paint brushes took care of most of it, but Molly still had a seemingly endless list of chores for them to do along the way.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent an enjoyable Thursday morning helping Bill set up his security measures. Arthur had argued with him to follow the Ministry of Magic's recommendations, and Bill had conceded after growling some very rude phrases about the people who set those guidelines. In the afternoon, the Weasleys all had to meet in Diagon Alley to pick up their clothes for the wedding. Harry and Hermione remained behind secretly practicing some detection spells Bill had taught them: something they both agreed would be useful in their search for the Horcruxes.

That Friday was spent actually setting up the Weasley's property to host the wedding and reception. Magic should have made this a fairly quick and easy undertaking, but the constant stream of nit-picking from Molly turned it into an all-day affair. She was, by far, the most nervous when Bill, Fleur, and her family paid them a visit late that afternoon. An audible sigh of relief was heard from the entire construction gang when Fleur nodded her approval.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear. People started arriving around ten o'clock, starting with the bundle of nerves otherwise known as the bride. The groom showed up a little while later flanked by the twins, and with Charlie and a woman he introduced as his girlfriend close behind. Upon seeing them, Fred and George drafted Ron and Harry into helping prevent their eldest brother from wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing.

Now, with less than an hour to go before the wedding, Harry made his way downstairs while tugging at the collar of his shirt. The green turtleneck and dark trousers Hermione had picked out during their Muggle shopping spree seemed like a good choice at the time. However, the addition of a long wizard's robe made the outfit a bit warm in the July heat.

Oh well, Harry thought, at least it isn't as uncomfortable as Ron makes his dress robes out to be. Having just come from the room where the Weasleys were making their final preparations for the ceremony, Harry was glad that he didn't have anything to do with the ritual besides watching it. These thoughts were interrupted as he turned to go out the back door by a feminine voice calling his name.

Looking up, he saw Hermione carefully walking down the stairs behind him. The sky blue witches' robes she wore showed off the curves of her body with all the demure elegance he'd come to expect from her. She must have used that hair potion again, as her honey brown locks now fell in graceful curls over her bare shoulder. Close up, he could see she was wearing the slightest hint of makeup on her face, and a pair of small diamond earrings to complete her look.

Slowly turning around she asked, "Well, how do I look?"

"Beautiful" was Harry's breathless reply.

Pulling himself together, he held up his hand. Hermione accepted with a gracious smile and looped her arm around his. Together they made their way up to the paddock.

Ten-foot high trellises covered with thick vines enclosed most of the normally empty field. A wide, carpeted aisle went down the center; separated from the dozens of chairs on either side by thick garlands of multicolored flowers. At the far end was a raised platform large enough to hold all the Weasleys and Delacours together. Naturally, this was where the ceremony would actually be performed.

As could be expected: most of the guests were friends, relatives, or coworkers Bill and Fleur; and complete strangers to Harry and Hermione. However, the two of them were swamped by well-wishers the moment they entered . It was a good thing there were a couple of people there to help them. To be specific: a certain former Hogwarts professor and his girlfriend.

Remus Lupin looked older than he actually was -- thanks to his condition, and the life he'd been forced to live due to the prejudice that existed against werewolves. Him and his girlfriend made a rather odd looking pair. Not only was Tonks some fifteen years younger than him, but she also preferred to maintain a more...colorful appearance, from her bubblegum-pink hair to the short violet skirt she was wearing. They made an odd-looking couple, but few could deny how happy they made each other.

The four of them moved off away from the crowd, exchanging small talk. Tonks was particularly interested in hearing about their run-in with Horace Slughorn at Hogsmeade station. She'd seen it from a distance, but wanted to hear the full story.

"So that's why you gave him those tusks!" Tonks cried when they were done. She was laughing so hard, Remus had to catch her to prevent the clumsy witch from knocking everything over.

Chuckling himself, Remus said: "Can't say I'm surprised. Slughorn spent years pulling those kinds of stunts on your parents, Harry. He only gave up on your father after James and Sirius filled the git's office with dragon dung they nicked from the Herbology stores." A tiny smile crossed Lupin's face as he remembered his lost friends' antics. "Lily was part of his club for a little while, but told Slughorn what to do with himself after she caught on to his little game. At least that's what she told us. It's hard to tell for sure anymore, since that's about the time the first war with Voldemort started really heating up."

"Speaking of Voldemort, has there been any news lately?" Harry inquired in a low voice.

Glancing around, Lupin answered quietly, "Not much, I'm afraid. It was quiet after the funeral, but a couple of weeks ago we started getting reports of Death Eater sightings around the country."

"Whenever those of us Aurors who aren't wasting our time on guard duty go to investigate, they're gone before we get there. The Ministry's been trying to downplay it, of course. They claim that folks are just jumping at shadows now that Dumbledore's gone," Tonks said, though it was clear that she didn't believe this story for a second.

"What about the Order?" Hermione broke in. "Aren't they - ?"

Remus raised his hands to stop her. "I don't think this is the time or place to be discussing these matters. If you'd like, I can come by sometime this week and tell you everything I know. Hopefully we'll have some word about Hogwarts as well."

Harry felt a dull ache in his stomach when school was mentioned. Last month he resolved to devote himself to hunting Voldemort's Horcruxes instead of returning for his final year of classes in the enchanted castle. A look at the pretty brunette next to him told Harry that she'd almost forgotten that decision as well. He began to wonder if he'd made the right choice, only to have the thought pushed out of his mind a second later.

Charlie's strong hand shook his shoulder. "Hey, guys! If you'll take your seats, we're about ready to start."

**********

This was the first time Harry had been to a wedding, and he wasn't sure exactly what was going to happen. Considering the effort they put into the preparations, and the little he knew of Muggle weddings, he was half-expecting some spectacular display of wizardry. But what happened instead was more like the subtle form of magic he saw Albus Dumbledore perform on their disastrous trip to the cave.

Once the guests were seated, the Weasleys made their way to the platform in two neat columns. Bill and Charlie led the procession with Arthur and Molly, Fred and George, Ron and Ginny, and (to Harry's great surprise) Percy following behind. The males were all dressed in formal robes that could almost pass for Muggle tuxedos. Pure white for Bill and Charlie, but with bright ties and waistcoats for their father and brothers (Fred and George's kept switching colors). Molly looked every inch the matriarch in her frilly robes, while Ginny's dress showed off a bit more skin than her mother would have liked -- as Harry had heard all too well before coming outside.

By contrast to Bill's family, the Delacours made their way down the aisle in a tight group. Fleur's parents walked on either side of her, with her little sister Gabrielle and a woman he didn't recognize following a few steps behind. All of them wore attractive, very expensive-looking clothes -- almost as if they wanted to draw attention away from the young woman in their midst.

As if that were possible.

Fleur had always been beautiful, but there were no words to describe the vision walking past them. The pure white silk and lace of her wedding gown seemed to glow under the bright summer sun. A light breeze made her gossamer-like veil and silvery hair floated gently in the breeze behind her shapely -

A warm hand touching his own was enough to snap Harry out of his musings. Feeling her fingers entwining themselves with his, he gave Hermione a questioning look.

"Just checking," she whispered in his ear. "Normally Fleur doesn't affect you very much, but the same can't be said for some of the other men here. With the emotions rolling off these people, I wanted to make sure you weren't being affected by them."

Quickly scanning the crowd, he saw many of the male onlookers positively drooling at Fleur -- only to be nudged, kicked, or sprayed with icy water in one case, by their female companions. Up on the platform, they could see the four Weasley brothers in the back elbow each other every few seconds. Percy was getting nudged particularly hard, perhaps because he had somehow landed up between the twins. Ginny, on the other hand, looked bored.

Examining the arrangement of Fleur's escorts again; it occurred to Harry that someone in the Delacour family must have known the affect the part veela bride would have on the male audience, and taken steps to prevent any problems. For not only were they walking protectively around her; but her parents and maid of honor each appeared to be holding their wands as the walked down th aisle. Not that it mattered, since Fleur's eyes and sunny smile were reserved solely for the waiting groom.

With everything that was going on, neither Harry or Hermione noticed the odd look Remus Lupin was giving them.

Harry found himself admiring the simple beauty of the ceremony. There was no priest or magistrate officiating, instead it was the young couple themselves who conducted the ritual. Monsieur Delacour and Arthur Weasley were the only other people to speak during the ceremony, each of whom recited the ritual blessings on behalf of their families before taking their respective seats.

Standing together with their assistants' wands touching their joined hands, Bill and Fleur took turns swearing vows of love and devotion to each other not unlike those said at Muggle weddings. When those were finished, Charlie and Fleur's friend handed the couple two small rings before taking their seats. Saying a few words that Harry didn't catch, they each slipped their rings on the other's hand and sealed their vows with a passionate kiss.

Receiving a nudge from Hermione, Harry stood up and applauded with her as the newly married couple led their families back up the aisle under a canopy of brilliant fireworks.

**********

Harry tried to enjoy himself at the wedding reception, and would of if certain people would just leave him alone. Some of them had to be from the Ministry, no one else could possibly be that interested in wizard politics. Far more tenacious however, were the young witches who kept hitting on him. The only thing scarier than their blatant come-ons was the mood they were putting Hermione in.

Seeing the most persistent of these girls about to try a fourth go at Harry, Hermione finally had enough. Wrapping a possessive arm around Harry, she snarled, "He's with me. Now go away!"

Harry broke into a wide grin seeing the death glare his best friend directed at the trollop as she ran away. It was even more effective than the Puking Pastille George had slipped that Ministry bloke a hour ago.

"Nicely done, 'Ermione," Fleur said as she appeared out of the crowd, no longer wearing her veil. "You have no idea how often I had to say zat to one woman at work. Per'aps if you two danced together they might leave 'Arry alone?" she said in a light tone they'd never heard her use before.

Glancing at the couples dancing on the flagstone patio Arthur had created for the reception, Harry said, "I'm not much at dancing -"

"- And no offense, but I've never been very fond of most wizard music," Hermione half-lied to her.

Wincing as yet another Celenstra Warbeck song started, Fleur replied; "Tell me about it. Let me get my husband, and we will zee what can done."

"Well, you have to admit she's a lot nicer," Harry brightly told his companion after Fleur left.

"I suppose," Hermione conceded. "It is possible that her haughty disposition was mostly an act to discourage all the unwanted attention she gets." Across the dance floor, they saw Fleur talking into her husband's ear. "That might also explain why she loves Bill so much -- he's willing to see past her exterior, and love Fleur for who she really is."

The two of them shared a comfortable smile as they watched the newlyweds gather up Charlie and his girlfriend before sneaking off to a secluded niche of the garden.

Night had fallen by the time any of them were seen again. The tables set around the darkening garden were now lit by flickering candles that were joined by hundreds of little glowing fairies buzzing about like giant fireflies. Harry and Hermione had found Ron talking with a brightly-dressed Luna in a quiet corner of the garden. Also with them was Fleur's little sister. Gabrielle Delacour didn't speak much English, but seemed content to just stare at Harry in the same lovesick way Ginny used to.

Harry had been avoiding his ex-girlfriend all evening, more out of the sense she was up to something than anything else. Luna confirmed his suspicion by saying she'd seen Ginny talking to several of the girls who had been pestering Harry. When asked what they'd been talking about, she gave Harry a little shrug.

"I'm not sure," Luna said, "but Ginny's been a bit off ever since you arrived. She seems to be having trouble accepting that you're no longer together, and keeps obsessing over what you and Hermione are doing. By the way; when you dance together, watch out for any nargles nesting under the patio. They're often attracted to parties like this."

Harry and Hermione stared at each other in shock, wondering if they should ask how Luna knew about Fleur's plan. One look at Ron told them that he wasn't going to be any help, as he had just whispered something in Luna's ear that made her topple over with laughter.

Bill strode up to them wearing a wicked smirk. Across the garden, Fleur talked to her friend who was handling the old-style phonograph providing the music.

"Everything's set, when Charlie starts talking just go out on the floor." Gesturing towards Luna he told Ron, "You know little brother, it wouldn't hurt you to dance with your friend there. We picked a slow number, so all you have to do is hold her and sway back and forth a little. Try it, you'll like it," he finished with a chuckle.

As the last strains of music died away, Charlie sent bright sparks from his wand and spoke in a magically amplified voice.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! As you may know, we've been playing the favorite songs of the happy couple and their parents. Well, I'm sorry to say that Bill and I never figured out what to play for our father. Sadly, we know him more for his um...interest in Muggles than his tastes in music." Charlie's understatement earned a snicker or two from those who knew Arthur Weasley. "So, with a little magical assistance, my lovey girlfriend Michelle has agreed to to perform a Muggle song she's recently come across."

Sharing a resigned look, Harry and Hermione stepped into the smooth open space along with one or two other couples. In the now lit corner, the dark haired woman they'd seen Charlie with started playing a piano that hadn't been there earlier. As Harry took Hermione in his arms, her soft alto voice began to sing.

"Spend all your time waiting,
For that second chance,
For a break that will make it okay,
There's always one reason,
To feel not good enough,
And it's hard at the end of the day,
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release,
Memory seeps from my veins,
Let me be weightless,
And maybe I'll find some peace tonight."

The reluctance Harry felt before faded as he slowly danced with his friend. He'd only danced with a girl once before, at the Yule Ball two and a half years ago, and he only went to it because McGonagall made him. If such a Ball occurred now, he didn't think he'd mind going -- as long as Hermione was with him.

"In the arms of an angel,
Fly away from here,
From this dark cold hotel room,
And the endlessness that you fear,
You are pulled from the wreckage,
Of your silent reverie,
You're in the arms of the angel,
May you find some comfort there."

Harry sighed as he felt Hermione slide her hands behind his neck. Looking at her, he smiled and gently wrapped his arms around her slim waist. Everything but the music and the beautiful woman in his arms fell away as he lost himself in her eyes.

"So tired of the straight line,
And everywhere you turn,
There's vultures and thieves at your back,
And the storm keeps on twisting,
You keep on building the lie,
That you make up for all that you lack,
It don't make no difference,
Escaping one last time,
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness,
Oh, this glorious sadness,
That brings me to my knees."

Various onlookers noticed the pair.

Remus Lupin pulled his gaze away from the waxing moon overhead when Tonks tapped his shoulder. Following her eyes, he smiled at the scene playing out before him and the memory it invoked of another couple he'd known so long ago.

Ron watched his friends even as his eldest brother's words milled about in his head. Deciding he had nothing to lose, he took one last gulp of his butterbeer and asked Luna to dance. She blinked at him for a minute, and then yanked Ron out of his seat and onto the dance floor. "I guess this means 'yes'," he laughed.

From her vantage point over by the house, Ginny watched with a stoic expression as her worst fears were realized. Only her mother's veiled threats kept her from saying anything...especially to her new sister-in-law, who she knew had a hand in this.

For his part, Bill knew his little sister would be hurt but understood why his wife thought it was for the best. Having a crush on somebody was a normal part of growing up, but it wasn't the same as loving them. To love someone, you had to know them...and the only girl who could honestly say she knew Harry Potter was the one dancing with him right now.

"In the arms of an angel,
Fly away from here,
From this dark cold hotel room,
And the endlessness that you fear,
You are pulled from the wreckage,
Of your silent reverie,
You're in the arms of the angel,
May you find some comfort there."

So much had changed for Harry since Professor Dumbledore had died. This past year, he'd been content to rely on the old wizard like everyone else. But with his death Harry couldn't do that anymore, and was forced to leave the last bits of his so-called childhood behind. He was on his own now, but Ron was still there to watch his back and Hermione....

Only in the last few weeks had Harry truly come to know what an amazing woman Hermione was. Smart enough to know when he was wrong, brave enough to say so, yet caring enough to stay at his side through everything. She was the friend who he could confide anything in, and who had trusted him with her deepest secret in return. Hermione had her faults, to be sure -- being incredibly stubborn, critical, tactless, bossy....

Harry almost laughed to himself. No matter how annoying some of her traits may be, she just wouldn't be Hermione without them...and he wouldn't want her to be any other way.

"You're in the arms of your angel,
May you find some comfort here."

These last few words hung in his mind as the song ended. Hermione was far from perfect, but there was nowhere he'd rather be than in her arms. Feeling her warm skin through the light fabric of her dress, her nimble fingers stroking the back of his neck, and seeing the light dancing in her warm brown eyes made something click in Harry's mind. Now he understood what the warm, comfortable sensation he'd been feeling these last few weeks was.

It was love. He was falling in love with Hermione Granger.

Tonight, on what may be the last peaceful evening he'd ever know, Harry put aside his concerns. Tomorrow he'd deal with the war and everyone's reactions. All that mattered to him right now was the young woman in his arms, and the surge of love he felt as they shared the most tender of kisses.


**********
end chapter 7

Lies and Illusions - chapter 8
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Author's note: Once again, I need to apologize for how long it's taken me to get this up. A severe case of writer's block slowed the final editing on this chapter to a crawl, and I didn't want to post it until I was satisfied with the end product. On a brighter note: chapter 9 has proven to be much more cooperative than the last two, and will be up in a couple of weeks (I promise).

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 8
Shadows of the Past


In the week following Bill and Fleur's wedding; Harry, Ron, and Hermione withdrew from daily life at the Burrow so they could concentrate on Voldemort's Horcruxes. With their search still hampered by a lack of information, they chose to work on how how they would actually recover the cursed objects once they got a lead. Also on their minds was their upcoming trip to Godric's Hollow -- which they planned to take as soon as Harry and Ron were licensed to apparate.

Due to new security measures at the Ministry, Arthur recommended that they schedule their apparation tests well in advance. This proved to be easier said than done, however. When Harry tried to call the Apparation Test Center on Monday morning, all he got was the Floo Network's equivalent of a busy signal. Giving up on that idea, Ron and him then went to visit that enchanted den of bureaucracy in person.

Coming out of one of the atrium's many fireplaces, Harry and Ron joined a long queue of people waiting to pass through a security gate that hadn't been there the previous year. This pretty much set the tone for the rest of their visit -- lots of standing in line, answering the same questions over and over again, and trying to ignore the stares Harry received whenever someone realized who he was. By the time they finally got their appointments for the 31st of July, the place was really starting to get on Harry's nerves. If apparation wasn't such a vital part of their plans, he would have just walked out in disgust hours earlier.

Fortunately, Harry was busy enough to take his mind off the magical government. After a long discussion, they decided to try out some of the ideas in the book Hermione's father had given him. While the infantry tactics described in the manual were pretty basic, adapting military doctrine to magical combat proved difficult. Wands were far more versatile than any Muggle device, but you needed to know which spells to use and be able to think clearly under stress. To be reasonably sure that they could do that when the time came, the three of them had to train.

Finding a place to practice presented its own problems. While the Ministry didn't monitor places like the Burrow for underage magic, Ron's mother would have a fit if she found out what they were up to. As if sneaking around Molly Weasley wasn't enough, they also had Ginny to deal with. She'd been in a snit since the wedding, and was now using every trick she'd ever picked up from Fred and George to spy on the trio. Between that and the snide remarks she'd been making around them; Harry and his friends started using privacy charms whenever they were working, or when him and Hermione wanted to be alone.

By an unspoken agreement, Harry and Hermione were keeping the public side of their relationship low-key for the time being. Everyone knew they were a couple, thanks to the kiss they shared at the reception, so neither of them saw any point in throwing it in people's faces. Besides, making out in front of everyone would just aggravate the situation with Ginny, and they already had more than enough to worry about.

Despite the troubles with Ginny, Harry's newfound romance was a source of comfort for him. From the very beginning, his relationship with Hermione was shaping up to be very different from the others he had. Mostly because they could talk about their problems, and find solutions they could both live with. It wasn't a perfect system, but it allowed Harry and Hermione to start building a relationship that could survive the dark times to come.

**********

Before going down to breakfast, Harry marked another day off his calendar with a sigh. He had three weeks left until his birthday as of today, and it seemed to be taking forever to get there.

No sooner than he'd sat down at the table; a screech owl flew through the window, dropped a letter in front of him, and flew back the way it came. The purple wax seal on the back bore the Hogwarts coat of arms. Inside was a brief letter written on school parchment.

Dear Mr. Potter,

You will be pleased to know that the items we discussed in our last
meeting are being dealt with, and should pose no further hazard. As a
precaution, however, the faculty and myself have decided to follow your
other suggestion as well.

On a more personal note; Professor Dumbledore left instructions for some
of his personal effects to be passed into your possession on your seventeenth
birthday, or shortly thereafter, in the event of his death. Due to the nature of
these items, I feel it's best for us to handle this matter in person. Please notify
me of a date and time when you will be available by return owl.

In addition, there is an official matter that I wish to discuss with you and Miss
Granger at that meeting. Mr. Ronald Weasley may also attend if he wishes.

Sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall,
Headmistress of Hogwarts

"Looks like the board of governors appointed McGonagall as the new headmistress." Harry said.

Hermione took the letter from him only to have it snatched away. "Hey, I was reading that!" she shouted.

"Oh, did I distract you? I thought only Harry's flirting did that," Ginny coldly responded.

"Wait a second...." Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Have you been eavesdropping on us?"

"The Burrow doesn't have eaves," Ginny said to no one in particular. Quickly reading the note, she asked, "What's this all about? Since when does McGonagall tell you about school business?"

"It's none of your concern, Ginny." Ron yanked the parchment out of his sister's hand as he walked by.

Giving him a deadly glare, Ginny shot back, "Is that so? I suppose it's also none of my business that Harry told me he was going away just so he could run off with some know-it-all Mudblood?!"

That last part was enough to bring Harry to his feet. However, another voice joined the argument before he could open his mouth.

"Ginny!" Arthur barked out as he came into the kitchen. "You know better than to call someone that in this house! Now apologize."

Looking straight at Hermione, Ginny said, "I'm sorry you're a Mudblood."

Mrs. Weasley's voice shook the Burrow. "GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY! That is not what your father meant and you know it! Now you can either apologize properly or be grounded for a week -- make up your mind."

With a defiant expression on her face, Ginny spun on her heel and marched out of the room without saying another word. The familiar sound of her bedroom door slamming shut echoed through the house a minute later.

Mrs. Weasley grumbled over her cooking once Ginny was out of earshot. "Oh, that girl...she's been impossible to deal with this summer. Why does it always happen when they turn fifteen?"

Taking his place at the head of the table, Arthur kindly suggested, "Perhaps it would be best if you moved into Percy's old room, Hermione. At least until Ginny cools off."

"Don't hold your breath," Ron said quietly, earning a dirty look from his mother.

Saying that he needed to answer McGonagall's letter, Harry excused himself from the table. Making his way upstairs, he heard Hermione call out, "Harry, wait up."

Stopping for her, he asked, "Are you okay? Ron told me that she might act like this, but I never -"

"It isn't surprising, if you ask me. She is Ron's sister, after all." The shy grin on Hermione's face gave way to a sigh. "Ginny and I have never exactly seen eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but she became rather rude to me after you started dating. Between you and me, I got the impression that she felt I was a threat to your relationship...which seemed odd to me at the time, since I had all but written myself off as the school swot who'd never be kissed." Hermione turned her head to hide her blush, even though it didn't stop Harry from sensing her embarrassment. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about -"

Harry quietly finished for her. "About changing my mind and going back to Hogwarts. I don't know, Hermione...there's so much we have to do, and I can't see how going to school can help. Hell, I don't think we've learned anything useful since fourth year. While I know how much you like school and that you're sure to be named Head Girl -"

She silenced him by placing her fingers over his lips. "Whether I become Head Girl or not has nothing to do with this."

Harry gave her a disbelieving stare.

"Okay, maybe a little," Hermione conceded, "but that's not what I'm talking about. I realize how important it is for us to find the...what we're looking for. But all the same, we also have to consider what comes afterwards.

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, "Eventually, we're going to have to go after Voldemort himself. When that time comes, we'll probably have to fight our way through Death Eaters, dementors, and who knows what else just to get to him. That seems an awful lot for three people to handle by themselves. Especially after what happened when you fought Snape last month."

"I know!" Pausing for a breath outside his door, Harry went on in a calmer tone, "Sorry, Hermione. It's just...you're not the only one who's bothered by that fight. I threw everything I could at him, even an unspoken spell, and didn't come close to hitting the bastard. It was like he knew what I was going to do before I did it."

"Maybe he did...." Hermione lead him into his room. "Remember -- Snape is very skilled at Legilimancy, and could have used that ability to read your mind during your duel. There's also the very likely possibility that Ron was right about Snape using your Occlumancy lessons last year to weaken your defenses instead of strengthening them." She paused a beat before desperately saying, "Please don't tell Ron I said that, he'd never let me hear the end of it." Wrapping her arms around Harry once he shut the door, Hermione added, "In any case; if learning Occlumancy means becoming like Snape, it's definitely not worth it. We can always find another way to handle the Legilimancy problem."

Harry gently brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Yes, we can." Gently caressing her cheek, he let his mind wander until another thought passed through his head.

"Hermione..."

"Yes, Harry?"

"You don't suppose that Snape kept harping on using unspoken spells because Voldemort knows how to defeat them?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed as she considered this. "Teaching us an advanced combat technique that's totally useless against his master does fit into our theories about what Snape was doing." A long pause followed. "I still can't believe that I never saw him for what he really was. No, that's not true." Hermione looked up at him. "My heart knew it all along, my mind just refused to accept it."

With that, they dropped the subject and just relaxed in one another's arms. After a short time, Hermione took a deep breath and asked, "So what are you going to do about Professor McGonagall?"

"Hear her out, I guess," Harry said after he thought about it. "We just need to find the time to meet with her."

Hermione grinned at his answer, then furrowed her brow. "Umm, let me think. Whatever McGonagall wants to tell us must be important, or else she wouldn't be willing to come all this way...therefore we shouldn't make her wait too long. Your birthday is out of the question; the way the Ministry is getting, you'll probably end up spending the whole day there. I don't suppose you're willing to put off our trip to Godric's Hollow so we can meet her on the first, are you?"

Shaking his head, Harry told her, "No, we're already waiting long enough and...." He took a a deep breath and said, "I need to go there, Hermione. I don't know why, but it feels important somehow."

"I understand," Hermione said, even though she didn't. "In that case, how about the second of August? It's a Saturday, and we have nothing planned, so Professor McGonagall can talk with us for as long as she wants."

Harry smiled at her. "It will do."

"Excellent." Hermione gave him brief, chaste kiss before slipping out of his grasp. "While you're getting started on that letter, I'll go and move my things. I should also talk to Crookshanks. He hasn't been too happy with Ginny these past few days, and I don't want him taking matters into his own paws."

The two of them laughed at her statement, and Hermione started to leave. She was reaching for the doorknob when Harry caught her.

"In a minute," he said, leaning over for another kiss.

**********

Alone in her room; Ginny Weasley was curled up on her bed, holding her pet pygmy puff, and fuming with anger. Even now, she couldn't believe this drastic turn of events. For a brief time, she'd been happy...Harry had been happy...her and Harry had been happy and in love. After so many years of waiting, so much effort, she'd finally gotten her chance to be with the Boy Who Lived.

But that was over now. Something must have happened while Harry, Ron, and that...that witch were away that turned everything upside down. The three of them refused to talk about it, of course, but anyone with eyes could see the results. Not only were Potter and Granger now snogging each other's brains out (why else would they be sneaking off all the time?), but they had also convinced her traitorous brother to cover their worthless arses. It was enough to make Ginny want to scream.

Ginny didn't respond when she heard a knock on her door. Nor did she move as Hermione quietly packed her things. Even the older girl's attempts to placate her weren't enough to provoke a reaction. Ginny was too mad to listen to what she had to say. What would Hermione know about her feelings anyway? She already had Harry.

**********

Around midday, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked back to the house after spending most of the morning practicing in the woods behind the paddock. To a Muggle observer; their training resembled nothing more than a group of overgrown children running through the woods playing soldier, or hunting for lost treasure -- depending on what they were practicing.

"Er, guys...not to complain or anything; but the Death Eaters are just a little brighter than the shrubbery, and we're so familiar with Bill's wards and traps that we can find them in our sleep," Ron said as they came out of the trees.

"We know it seems a bit silly, Ron, but it's the best we can do right now," Hermione answered wearily. She'd never been very good at this kind of hands-on learning; but to her credit, Hermione hadn't complained once during their practice sessions. "It's pretty hard to practice group tactics when there's only three of us."

With a reluctant nod, Ron sighed, "Kinda makes you wish we had the DA around, doesn't it? We'd have plenty of folk to help us then."

Dumbledore's Army, DA for short, was the secret club they had created in their fifth year as a way to defy both Umbridge and the Ministry. With Cornelius Fudge and his crony out of the picture, Harry hadn't seen a reason to reassemble the group. As a result, only a handful of students came to assist the teachers when Hogwarts was attacked.

"Maybe we should restart it," Harry said to himself.

Ron turned to stare at him. "Wait a second, I thought we weren't going back to school this fall. Or did Hermione 'convince' you to change your mind?"

Harry didn't need to see the tilt of his friend's head, crooked smile, or wiggling eyebrows to tell just how Ron thought Hermione could have convinced him to return to Hogwarts. Then again, it wasn't hard to tell what Ron Weasley was feeling -- since he usually announced it at the top of his lungs.

"I haven't decided yet, but I'm thinking about it," Harry answered. "By the way, Ronald, don't start on us unless you're willing to explain just where you and Luna disappeared to after your dance."

Laughing like the close friends they were, the trio entered the Burrow.

"What? She took a portkey to Africa the next day and wanted to say goodbye," Ron told them.

"If I had a sickle for every time I've heard that," a voice said behind them. Following the noise; they found Remus Lupin sitting in the living room, looking even more tired than usual. The full moon was only a few days away.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione excused themselves for a moment to get cleaned up. Coming back down, they joined Remus and Mrs. Weasley (Ginny returned to her room the moment she saw them) for lunch. Afterwards, and looking a little less pale than before, Lupin followed the trio up to Harry's room for a private talk.

Once everyone was settled, with Remus sitting in the only chair, Harry and Hermione holding hands on the bed, and Ron leaning on the door, they got down to business after hearing some comments about their love lives.

"Did I hear you say that Ron's dating Luna Lovegood now? I remember her from when I was teaching. Strange girl...bright, but very, very strange." The couple on the bed smiled at each other until the older man turned his attention to them. "No need to ask how you two are doing, I can tell just by looking at you." Lupin's eyes grew distant as he watched the young people around him. Harry felt a sense of deja vu as he returned the last Marauder's gaze. A lot of people had been giving him odd looks lately.

Shaking himself out of the past, Remus said, "Anyway, you wanted to talk about what Voldemort and his followers are doing. I wish I knew more, but we're all pretty much in the dark.

"You remember what I told you about the Death Eaters being sighted all over the place?" Everyone nodded. "Good. Now, the Ministry is still downplaying the reports because no one's been hurt and the Dark Mark isn't being seen all over the place. Because of this, we weren't even sure if the stories were real until Tonks overheard some other Aurors talking about it. We've been looking into it, but the sightings a so scattered that it's hard to keep up when you only have three or four people to work with. That's why I didn't come to see you earlier this week."

Ron quickly asked Lupin, "Don't you have any idea what they're up to?"

"I'm afraid not. Most of the sightings have been in places like Knockturn Alley, Hogsmeade, and villages where a lot of wizard families live. That's nothing unusual, since most Muggles couldn't spot a Death Eater if their lives depended on it. A few people have suggested that their recent victory has made some Death Eaters a bit cocky, while others think they're involved in something we're not aware of. I lean towards the latter myself: Voldemort doesn't have his minions do anything without a reason."

"You said that some of you are investigating these sightings," Hermione said. "So what's the rest of the Order doing?"

Lupin bowed his head. "I'm afraid that those of us who are working on this are all that's left of the Order of the Phoenix."

A stunned silence followed the announcement. Harry asked, "Why? What happened? This isn't the first time you've lost -"

"Think about what you're saying, Harry!" Remus exploded. "Albus Dumbledore wasn't just the leader of the Order, in many ways he was its heart and soul. His death has shaken its members badly, many to the point that they've all but left the group. We've also had to move our headquarters -- without the secret-keeper to tell them where it is, new members wouldn't be able to find Grimmauld. At least Mad-Eye has managed to keep the Order from completely falling apart, and he thinks we can convince the others to come back. Of course, getting them past the fact that Albus was killed by a trusted member of the Order who turned traitor will take some doing."

Harry said coldly, "Snape was a double-agent, not a traitor. You have to be on someone's side to betray them, and he was never on ours!"

"Calm down, Harry. Getting mad at Remus isn't helping matters," Hermione softly told him as she rubbed the back of his hand.

"I'm not mad, just making a point," Harry told her, covering her hand with his free one. Meeting Hermione's eyes, he added, "And you feel the same way I do about Snape." The corner of her mouth curled upward, mirroring his own smirk.

Remus looked at Ron. "How long have they been doing that?" he asked, pointing at Harry and Hermione.

"About a month. I think it started when we were at her parents' house," Ron said cheerfully. Leaning toward Remus, he added in a sly tone, "They'll start snogging if we step out of the room for a minute."

"What?" Harry and Hermione's heads snapped around, making the two men laugh out loud..

"Oh, nothing." Lupin's chuckle turned into a relaxed grin. "I was just reminded of your parents, Harry. They were always doing that sort of thing after they hooked up. At times, it was like they knew what each other were thinking or something. Sirius often took the mickey out of them for it, mostly because Lily couldn't stand your father until our seventh year. Come to think of it, neither of them ever really told us why she decided to give James another chance."

Harry felt Hermione staring at him, surprised to hear about his parents' early problems. A quick glance at her told him that they would be discussing this in detail later on.

"Look, Moony," Harry said softly. Lupin's head snapped up when he heard his old Marauder nickname. "I don't mean to insult Dumbledore's memory or anything, but I have to ask why no one ever questioned his judgment concern-"

Remus stopped him. "Now hold on, Harry. While I understand that you're not in a position to know otherwise, you shouldn't believe for a second that everyone in the Order was blindly following whatever Albus Dumbledore said. Snape was a case in point."

He paused for a long while as he pieced together what to say.

"When he first came to us, there was a huge fight within the Order about what to do with Severus. Alastor Moody, for example, hinted that we should force Snape to give up whatever information he might have, and then ship him straight to Azkaban. If I remember right, it was shortly after they'd started using dementors -- so you can imagine what he was thinking. Sirius was far more direct, as usual, and had to be stunned to keep him from killing Snape on sight. Within minutes of joining his first Order meeting, old Severus was living up to his name.

"After Dumbledore said his piece, however, enough of the Order agreed with him for Snape to be admitted -- barely, I might add. Your parents were among those who voted against him. What happened next...it didn't seem like much at the time, but now...." Lupin locked eyes with Harry. "Your parents had been sitting in a corner with Frank and Alice Longbottom during the meeting. When it broke up the four of them walked past Dumbledore, but James stopped just long enough to look at Snape and say 'He still hates us' just before they left."

Ron whispered, "Blimey, and no one listened to him?"

"No, people listened. The Potters and Longbottoms were too well respected to ignore, especially after facing Voldemort so many times. The thing is; both couples were rather busy just then, being new parents and all, and weren't as active in the Order as they used to be. Also, at least to me, there seemed to be a certain...distance between them and Dumbledore after that meeting." Lupin turned to Harry. "I suppose that might be why your parents didn't tell him when they switched secret-keepers," he said.

Harry nodded, but didn't ask any more about Snape. "Remus; from the little I know about them, I can't see Mum and Dad just sitting around hoping that Voldemort wouldn't find us. You wouldn't know if they were trying to do something about him, would you?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry. Your parents and I didn't see each other very much after you were born. Mostly because I...um, didn't trust myself around you." Lupin hung his head, guilt and pain rolling off of him. "So anything they might have been working on, they didn't have a chance to share it with me. Especially in those last months, when your parents went into hiding."

The trio shared a look before Hermione ventured, "Stop me if I'm wrong, but it sounds like the Order's troubles began when Snape joined it. Is that true?"

"Yes and no," Remus replied. "The Order always had problems. It was never that big, at least compared to what we heard about Voldemort's forces. That caused a constant debate over things like battle tactics, our overall strategy, and so on. But during that last year or so...yes, things got worse. It seemed like our best people and allies started dropping like flies, while the Death Eaters appeared stronger and more numerous than ever. At the time, we couldn't figure out why it was happening, but -"

Harry continued for him, "Now we know that Severus Snape never left the Death Eaters, and whatever information he gave to the Order was what Voldemort wanted you to hear. I also wouldn't be surprised if Snape didn't arrange some of the deaths you spoke of to weaken the Order."

If Remus Lupin hadn't been pale before, he would be now. "How do you know that? Mad-Eye has been working on this since Albus was killed and is only beginning to suspect what you just said!"

"We've been doing some work of our own lately." Hermione leaned on Harry a bit as she spoke. In return, he placed an arm around her shoulders. "Weeks ago, we...came across something about how Muggles use spies and propaganda in their wars and it-"

"Got us thinking about all the Death Eaters in the Ministry. Then we came up with the idea that they may be more than just spies, and are actively sabotaging any resistance to their master," Harry went on.

Ron finished, "It makes sense when you think about it. Especially considering the ruddy bastards he likes to surround himself with -- like Snape and the Malfoys."

Lupin gave the trio a weak, bittersweet smile. "To think, I had almost forgotten how much I miss my old friends."

"We're not them, Remus, and we can't take their place," Hermione sadly told him. Harry couldn't bring himself to speak.

"True, but you're a lot like them. All three of you," the older wizard said as he checked his watch. "I'd better leave if I'm going to see Tonks tonight. Being so close to the full moon, I don't like to take chances...not anymore. Moody will want to hear what you said when I see him again...if you don't mind."

The teenagers nodded their permission and said their goodbyes as Remus wearily got up from his chair. However, Harry ran up to Lupin as he left the Burrow.

"Remus, there's something I forgot to ask you."

"Go ahead," Lupin said, turning to face Harry.

"First, I want to know if it's possible to have some defenses up around a Muggle house. Nothing too obvious, but enough to warn the people there if any Death Eaters show up," Harry said.

"Without the Ministry knowing about it?" Lupin asked cautiously.

"Preferably," Harry answered. "I don't trust them. Especially when it comes to the safety of Hermione's -"

Remus stopped him. "Say no more. Give me the address and I'll talk to Tonks about it. It'll give her something to do this weekend besides pacing around our flat and tripping over herself."

Harry's eyebrows shot up as he handed Lupin a piece of parchment with Hermione's address on it. No one had told him that Remus and Tonks were living together.

Hoping to avoid any more questions about his love life, Remus cleared his throat and asked, "Anything else?"

"Just one thing." Harry replied. "I want to know exactly where my parents are buried."

This request stopped Lupin in his tracks. "Why do you - ?"

"I just want to visit them, and maybe see the place where I should have grown up," Harry replied.
Remus stared into his eyes long and hard, though Harry couldn't tell what he was looking for. "Do you know where the house is?" Lupin finally asked.

Harry nodded. Using both wizard and Muggle resources, and some help from Hermione, he had tracked down the exact location while staying at her parents' house.

Speaking in barely more than a whisper, Remus said, "You'll find them together in a plot under the old oak in the back garden. It was a special place for James and Lily, and we -" A tear rolled down Lupin's cheek. "We just didn't have the heart to put them anywhere else."

**********

On Saturday night, the full moon shone down on the Burrow and the nearby village. It was midnight and almost everyone was asleep. Except for Harry and Hermione who were busy commemorating their first week as an official couple with a good snog.

Sitting on his bed with Hermione in his lap, he gently caressed her back as her fingers idly played with his hair. They were trying to take it easy and not rush this part of their relationship into something they weren't ready for. Unfortunately, keeping themselves under control was proving difficult at best. Hermione's kisses were soft, tentative...almost shy in a way, but Harry found them positively intoxicating none the less. Admittedly, her enthusiasm for this new area of study might have something to do with it too.

Harry heard his girlfriend sigh as his lips found the pulse point just below her jaw. The rush of excitement he felt from her abruptly ended when she stared shaking him, and calling his name.

"Harry, what's that? There's some kind of glow...."

Blinking rapidly, he saw an odd greenish light coming from the window. Untangling themselves, they took their wands and Harry's glasses from the nightstand and went to investigate. Crookshanks, who had been snoozing by their feet, jumped up and let out a frightened growl.

Downstairs, they heard the chimes in Molly's grandfather clock sound throughout the house. Once, twice...ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen....

Reaching the window, Harry felt a stab of fear from Hermione as the blood froze in his veins.

The Dark Mark was hovering over Ottery St. Catchpole.

**********
end chapter 8

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 9
Trial by Fire


The incessant chiming of of the clock downstairs was soon joined by a desperate pounding on the bedroom door.

"HARRY -- GET UP! Death Eaters are coming, we have to go now!" There was a flash of light as the charms on Harry's door were dispelled. On the verge of panic, and still trying to tie his dressing gown closed, Arthur Weasley burst into the room. "Do you know where Hermione is? She wasn't in her room."

Turning away from the window, Hermione quickly answered, "I'm right here, Mr. Weasley, and it looks like they're attacking the village."

"No, you don't understand...Bill tied Molly's clock into the wards he and the Ministry set up. The only reason it would be ringing like this is if someone is tampering with them! Harry, we don't have time to pack right now...."

Ignoring Arthur's words, Harry franticly rummaged through his trunk before muttering, "To hell with this, Accio!" Various odds and ends exploded out of the open trunk as the Omnioculars he'd purchased years ago leapt into his hand.

Going back to the window, he raised the wizard binoculars to his face. "I think we may have a bigger problem," he said to no one in particular. Pointing them towards the bright flashes he'd seen in the village, he glimpsed a figure moving amongst the smashed Muggle buildings. "Oh, that's not good..."

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Harry grabbed her arm and started moving. "Giant! They brought a giant with them, and I think it's coming this way."

"Merlin's beard...we'll have to try and apparate out or take the Floo. Either way, it's best if we do it together," Arthur replied.

"You get Ginny," Harry firmly told the older wizard. "We'll get Ron and meet you downstairs."

Giving them a quick nod, Mr. Weasley ran off to do as he was told. Hand in hand, Harry and Hermione rushed out of the bedroom right behind him.

It came as no surprise that Ron was still fast asleep when his friends raced into his room. With no time for pleasantries; Harry woke up his friend by levitating his bed, and then letting it drop to the floor with a loud bang.

"What the hell are you doing? It's the middle of the night!" Ron screamed.

Harry held up a hand to silence his friend. "Death Eaters are attacking the village. We need to get downstairs right now."

Now fully awake, Ron quickly pulled on his jeans and sneakers and ran down to the living room with his friends.

"All right, everyone, we had better apparate to the Ministry and make sure they know what's happening. So, pair up and we'll go on three," Arthur said once they were all together.

It took all the self-control Harry had to block the fear that was radiating from the elder Weasleys from his mind. Pulling Hermione close, with a squirming Crookshanks between them, he silently braced himself -- apparation wasn't Harry's favorite way to travel.

"Ready?" Arthur asked. Everyone nodded. "On three: One...Two...Three!"

Right on cue, Harry felt his girlfriend suddenly twist away from him along with the brief compression of apparation...

...Followed by the sensation of running headfirst into a brick wall before being violently thrown to the floor of the Burrow.

Harry rolled over, pain coursing through his entire body from the failed attempt. "Hermione...are you all right?" he asked.

Letting out a groan not unlike the pained sounds her cat was making, Hermione answered, "Ow.... I...don't think I...splinched anything. We must have hit the...anti-apparation ward, but Bill said we could still...."

"The Death Eaters must have messed with it so we couldn't disapparate," Harry responded.

"Arthur!" they heard Molly scream. Apparently, he'd been slammed into the side of the fireplace and now lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Judging by his groans and the way he was holding himself, he wasn't going anywhere under his own power.

Getting gingerly to his feet, Ron lit a fire with an Incendio charm. Tossing a handful of floo powder at it, he yelled "Ministry of Magic!" -- only to have the fire go out. He tried again, trying to reach St. Mungo's this time, and got the same result.

"We've been cut off from the Floo Network," he muttered helplessly. "Guess they don't want us going anywhere."

"So now what? We could try to escape by broom..." Ginny suggested.

Molly quickly dismissed the notion. "Your father's in no condition to fly, and most of our broomsticks are out in the shed."

"It's too dangerous for us to go bumbling around in the dark," Hermione added. "For all we know, there could be a flock of dementors out there waiting for us. We can't summon the brooms out of a locked shed either, they'd arrive in pieces."

"Hermione's right, running isn't the answer," Harry said.

Ginny gave them both a deadly glare as she asked sarcastically, "So what is, oh Chosen One?"

"I have an idea," Harry replied in a commanding tone. "Ron, give me a hand with your dad. The rest of you listen carefully, we don't have much time...."

**********

A stillness had fallen over the darkened Burrow by the time three shadowy figures came into view. Crossing the yard like angry wraiths, they made short work of the outhouse containing the family brooms and the old shed Arthur used to tinker with the Muggle artifacts he so loved. One of the masked wizards chuckled at the destruction and conjured a second Dark Mark overhead, only to have the leader of this group strike him in the face. With an impatient shove and a sharp gesture to the third person in his group, they closed in on the Weasley home.

However, the Burrow itself proved to be somewhat tougher than its rickety appearance would suggest. The front door withstood multiple Reductor Curses before finally being blown off its hinges. Before the last bits of debris hit the floor, the three Death Eaters swept into the house. With a wave of his wand, the leader directed his companions upstairs while he proceeded to ransack the first floor.

There was no subtlety in their approach. Throughout the Weasley home, doors and cupboards were simply blown open as the Death Eaters moved from one room to the next. The loud noises and flashes of light ended only after every room had been inspected. In the living room, the leader paused to examine a half-finished Weasley jumper before smashing Molly's knitting basket against the far wall.

"Well?" an icy male voice asked as the other two walked down the narrow stairway.

"We checked the entire house. There's no sign of him," the second Death Eater answered.

The leader joined them at the foot of the stairs. "I told Lestrange that he wouldn't come here. What of the blood-traitors?"

"Gone," the second Death Eater answered. "The only living things we found were a ghoul up in the attic and some kind of miniature puffskein in one of the bedrooms. They must have fled when they saw the Dark Mark."

The third hooded figure spoke up. "Speaking of leaving, it looks like our big friend is gone too."

"And who's fault is that?" the leader said angrily. "You knew perfectly well that the overgrown simpleton was told to leave if he saw the Mark over this house."

Unseen by the intruders, Harry Potter grasped his wand a little tighter and crouched back down behind the overturned sofa with Ron and Hermione. For the tenth time in as many minutes, Harry silently thanked Mad-Eye Moody for once showing him the Disillusionment Charm. The plan seemed to be working so far.

Despite the second Death Eater's assertion, none of the residents of the Burrow had left the house. Taking a hint from Neil Granger's manual, they had Disillusioned everyone so that they'd blend in with their surroundings. Once everyone was enchanted, Harry had told Molly and Ginny to stay upstairs to guard Arthur, who was hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak with Hermione's ever-faithful guard cat. Meanwhile, the trio had used their magical camouflage to evade the Death Eaters until they could determine just what they were up against. It was difficult, nerve-wracking business, made worse by the close quarters inside the Burrow. There were many close calls -- the flying basket had missed Hermione's head by mere inches, for instance -- but they needed to wait until the right moment to ambush the Dark Lord's servants.

Almost there, Harry thought, forcing himself to stay calm. The invaders were all together, had lowered their guard, and didn't seem to have any reinforcements on the way. Now if that one would just move a few steps to either side, the trio would be able to take out all three Death Eaters before they ever knew what hit them...starting with the murdering bastard who was leading this group.

The third, and apparently newest, Death Eater said, "But Severus-"

"Don't start with me, you imbecile. Make one more stupid mistake and you won't live long enough to explain your foolishness to our mast...." Severus Snape interrupted his lecture upon hearing a noise from above. Glancing at his other compatriot, he shoved the first one aside and waved his wand to cast a silent Finite Incatatum.

Harry barely had time to groan "Oh shit" as he and his friends resumed their normal appearance. To make matters worse, Ginny had come into clear view near the top of the stairs.

Streaks of of light filled the room as the two sides opened fire on each other. Ginny put everything she had into one of her Bat-Bogey Hexes, only to have it easily deflected by Snape. In the same movement, he sent a stream of purple flames back in her direction. Having no room to dodge, the curse struck her she just as another spell smashed the stairs at her feet. Even as Ginny and what remained of the stairway collapsed, the third Death Eater stumbled into a group of stunning spells meant for Snape. The triple impact to his back propelled him into Snape, knocking him over, and inadvertently saving the senior Death Eater from the trio's second salvo as well.

Realizing where the spells had come from, the second Death Eater conjured a heavy metal shield as he moved to engage the larger threat. A Killing Curse turned the sofa the trio had used for cover into a cloud of flaming cinders. The teens scattered even as they sent their own hexes and jinxes towards their enemy. That shield made it easier for the Death Eater to block their spells; but outnumbered and unable to apparate, he was soon on the defensive. Finally, the brief stalemate was broken when a Disarming spell hit him from above and behind. Diving to retrieve his wand, he was struck by an assortment of hexes and jinxes that finally put him out of the fight.

But even as the last of his companions was trying to re-arm himself, Snape freed himself from his unconscious companion and managed to completely disable the anti-apparation field around the Burrow. With barely a glance, he sent his own Disarming spell upwards. Before Molly Weasley's wand hit the ground; he apparated into the living room where a well-placed curse smoked Harry out, and left him sprawled on the floor three feet from his wand.

"Potter." With a flick of his hand, he sent Harry's wand flying across the room. "I should have known. Did you honestly think you could best us?"

Meeting the former Potions master's sneer with one of his own, Harry said, "Why not? It wouldn't be the first time."

"As conceited as ever, I see. One would think you would have learned your lesson after our last encounter. But then again, your father never learned the proper respect either." Behind his mask, Snape's cold black eyes hardened even more.

"You're just upset because Dad always saw you for the scum you are," Harry said bitterly, hoping that his anger would help keep Snape out of his head. "And since you asked, I do remember our last little run-in...."

"Which is why he brought us with him this time, Snivellus," Hermione said as she appeared behind Snape, her voice filled with hate.

Snape instinctively spun into a crouch upon hearing that despised nickname. In doing so, he just missed being hit by a Furnunculus Curse Ron cast at him. His reprisal was interrupted by the need to deflect one of Hermione's jinxes. Behind him, Harry rolled away from Snape, hopefully in the direction his wand had gone.

"What's the matter, Snape?" Ron paused in his taunt to send another spell Snape's way. "Can't read three minds at once?"

A frustrated snarl came from behind Snape's mask. He cast a curse that Harry didn't recognize at Ron, who dove behind one of the last pieces of furniture in the room, and started digging through his robes with his free hand.

While his friends kept Snape busy, Harry was groping in the dark for his wand. Recalling a time when he'd been in a similar predicament, the young wizard silently cast the Lumos spell. A spot of light appeared on the other side the room, near the place where Snape was now standing. Panic gripped Harry when he saw the ex-professor take a step toward his wand. Acting solely on instinct, Harry reached out in the direction of his wand and desperately screamed Accio! inside his head.

Snape's head snapped around as Harry's wand shot out from under his foot, flew across the room handle first, and neatly landed in its owner's hand. Not giving his enemy a chance to react, Harry quickly cast a spell. In his haste and rage, however, the curse went wide -- missing its target, but connecting with a flask Snape had just pulled out of his robes. The contents instantly vaporized -- filling the Burrow with a thick, acidic cloud that burned the eyes and left everyone coughing on the floor.

By the time it cleared, Snape and the other Death Eaters had vanished without a trace.

**********

A group of Aurors charged into the Burrow some time after the battle was over, led by a tough-looking wizard named Dawlish. Paying little attention to the trio's presence, he had the others spread across the Weasleys' property in a hopeless search for the Death Eaters. Kingsley Shacklebolt, an Auror who was also part of the Order of the Phoenix, stopped just long enough to arrange for everyone to be transported to St. Mungo's with the other wounded.

Mr. Weasley had been admitted to the Artifact Accidents section with a concussion and two broken ribs, while Ginny was being treated by the Healers on the Spell Damage floor. The rest of them had come away with nothing worse than some cuts and bruises, which were treated by a harried mediwitch who had come across them in a waiting room. Eventually, their exhaustion overcame the remaining adrenalin in their bodies and they drifted into a deep sleep.

Some hours later, Harry became aware that there was something warm and soft lying next to him. Opening his eyes, he found Hermione's beautiful, but slightly blurry, face stirring only inches away from his own. Surprisingly strong arms tightened around his stiff body as he moved a bit, followed by her eyelids fluttering open. With a sleepy grin, she whispered "Good morning, Harry" and pulled him a little closer...

But just before their lips touched they heard a familiar voice call out, "Wotcher, Harry! Hermione!"

The young couple sprang apart (or as close to it as their stiff bodies allowed). Finding his glasses on a nearby table; Harry glared at Tonks. She looked exhausted, wearing her patched jeans and mousey-brown hair, and was laughing her head off.

"Tonks!" Hermione screamed. "That wasn't very nice of you...and how did you know we were here?"

"Old Auror trick, check page five." She gave them a sly grin and handed over a copy of the Daily Prophet. The front page had a picture of the Dark Mark floating over the Burrow. The headline above it read: GIANT ATTACKS MUGGLE TOWN, DOZENS FEARED DEAD.

Following Tonks' advice, Harry flipped through the paper until he saw an image of him and Hermione sleeping in each other's arms. Making an angry sound in the back of his throat, he read the caption:

Harry Potter, a.k.a. the Chosen One and last apprentice of the late Albus Dumbledore,
recovers from his hour-long duel with You-Know-Who's servants in the arms of his lover,
Miss Hermione Granger. (Full story on page 12)

"What's this rubbish? Oh, don't tell me...," Hermione groaned as Harry turned to page twelve. Beneath a couple of old pictures of them, there was a short article titled: Potter returns to his first love. Seeing the name of the writer, Harry tossed the paper in the garbage without bothering to read the column.

"I see you don't think much of Rita Skeeter's latest story. She'll be crushed," Tonks quipped. Pulling a small notebook out of her pocket, she patted herself for a moment. "Have you seen my quill? I've been up all night....ah, found it...and need to get your version of the attack for the reports. So, let's start with where you were when the attack began."

Before answering, Harry asked, "Um, shouldn't Ron be here? He was with us through most of it."

"I talked to him a little while ago, just before be went in to see his sister. Now, Arthur told me you two were together when the attack started. So tell me what you were doing, and don't leave out any details." Tonks flashed a grin at them.

Except for her prying, Tonks maintained a professional demeanor during their interview. She questioned them at length about the Death Eaters who had entered the Burrow.

"So you're both positive that Severus Snape was leading the other two?" Harry and Hermione nodded. "Did they say why they were there?"

Hermione answered, "Not exactly, but it sounded like they were looking for someone."

"Yes, I remember one of them saying that 'he' wasn't there. Then Snape went on about telling Bellatrix Lestrange that this person wouldn't come to the Burrow," Harry added.

Tonks chewed on the end of her quill for a minute. "Interesting.... It doesn't tell us much, but it's more than we had. Harry, I've got to ask: where you got the idea of evading the Death Eaters like that?"

"Thank Hermione, I got the idea from a film she took Ron and me to see. The characters hid themselves while some enemy soldiers searched their ship, and then decked the guards they left behind." Feeling Hermione's hand in his, Harry gently entwined his fingers with hers. "There weren't any good hiding places, so we took a hint from a book we, um...came across and used the Disillusion Charm to camouflage ourselves. Unfortunately, something alerted Snape and he dispelled the charm just before we were ready to attack."

"Otherwise we would have stunned the lot of them before they even knew we were there," Hermione finished.

"Doesn't sound very sporting," Tonks said.

Harry looked Tonks in the eye. "Well this isn't a game, now is it? I don't have a problem with hexing a bunch of Death Eaters from behind if it stops them from killing people!"

"You sound like your dad."

"Remus! What are you doing here? You're usually in bed all day after your change." Tonks jumped to her feet when she saw Remus Lupin standing in the doorway with Ron.

Lupin gave her a tired gaze as he said, "I'm a werewolf, Nymph, not an invalid. Nice hair, I see your thinking about me." Tonks bristled at the nickname and changed her hair to a Ravenclaw blue. Having disarmed his girlfriend's tirade, Remus turned back to the teens sitting on the couch. "I heard about the attack on the wireless and wanted to make sure you were all right."

"We're okay, Remus, but Arthur and Ginny were hurt pretty bad and we've been waiting for news about them," Harry told him.

Ron said tonelessly, "The Healers told us a little while ago that Ginny's going to have to stay here for a week or two, but should recover. Dad's okay, and will be able to go to work tomorrow. In the meantime, they're letting him and Mum stay with Ginny until she wakes up."

A subdued sigh of relief was overshadowed by Hermione's stomach growling.

"If you're that hungry, Hermione, Fred and George are waiting for us up in the tearoom," Ron continued. "They stopped by a little while ago on their way to the Burrow. Dad suggested we go along and help them start cleaning up."

Saying that she had to go write up her report, Tonks excused herself...but not before handing Harry a slip of parchment. "I did what you asked, Harry. Here's a list of what I set up, in case you're interested," she told him, stifling a yawn. "And Hermione -- your parents wanted me to say hello, be careful, and it's about time."

Once Tonks and Remus had disappeared around a corner, Hermione turned to Harry.

"I asked Remus if he could arrange a little extra protection for your parents...call it my 'saving people' thing," Harry explained. "He said that he would talk to Tonks about it." Surprise, gratitude, a touch of guilt, and love all tried to express themselves at once in the look Hermione gave him. Cupping her cheek, Harry added, "You don't have to say anything, Hermione, it was the least I could do."

The trio made their way to the tearoom on the floor above for some breakfast. Passing the locked doors to the long-term care ward, Harry exchanged a look with Hermione. They couldn't help noticing that Ron was being unusually quiet this morning.

"Um, Ron -- are you okay?" Harry asked him.

The redhead stopped walking and turned to look at them.

"No...not really," Ron said slowly. "Luna and her dad live in a flat above the Quibbler office, on the other side of the village from us. I read in the paper that it was leveled by the giant. I guess I'd better find Pig when we get home so I can let them know what -"

"Excuse us, please," a female Healer said to them, pointing at the doors.

Harry stepped out of her way, and found himself staring into the emaciated face of Alice Longbottom. This poor woman and her husband, the parents of the trio's friend Neville Longbottom, had been driven insane by some of Voldemort's most sadistic followers. Echoes of the pain they had endured were written all over her face, and the broken remains of her soul could be seen in her protruding eyes.

Those eyes didn't quite meet his, but Harry swore that he saw something flicker in them when he said hello to her. With a shaking hand, she took a piece of paper out of her dressing gown and dropped it into Harry's hand. The Healer gently said, "Now, Alice, don't bother the nice people. Come on, you've had a long morning and need your rest," and led her through the doors.

For a long moment after Alice had gone, the trio stood there looking at the Drooble's Blowing Gum wrapper in Harry's hand. Giving his friends a glance, Harry reached into his pocket to retrieve the false Horcrux he carried everywhere he went. Folding the wrapper into a tiny square, he placed it inside the locket before putting it back in his jeans. Harry then looped a comforting arm around Hermione and they went upstairs to meet the Weasley twins.

**********

In the aftermath of the attack, Ottery St. Catchpole was swarming with employees from the Ministry of Magic. Some of them were from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, supposedly providing security against a follow-up attack. Most, however, were Obliviators going around altering people's memories and people from the Department of Misinformation spreading the story that it was a freak tornado that hit their village and not a giant.

Dealing with the Ministry was rapidly becoming one of Harry Potter's pet peeves. Here he was, eighteen days short of his seventeenth birthday, and the only time he could (legally) do magic away from school was if somebody was trying to kill him -- as the Ministry bureaucrat who was minding the apparation point so thoughtfully reminded him.

But as much as this treatment annoyed Harry, the twins took even greater offense.

"Can you believe these people?" George griped as they walked up the driveway. "Having the nerve to lecture Harry after last night is almost as bad as harassing an innocent joke shop."

Harry shook his head. "Don't tell me they're still bothering you about that Darkness Powder...."

"Oh no, they've come up with all new things to pester us about. Over the last month we've had five different inspectors come through -" Fred told them.

"Including that old wizard Dad used to work with," George added without missing a beat.

Fred rolled his eyes. "- And at least a dozen 'official warnings' saying that we're 'undermining the war effort.' Naturally they don't say whose war effort...."

"Come off it, Fred. It's probably just some moron at the Improper Use of Magic office with no sense of humor and too much time on their hands," George said as they entered the ruined Burrow.

Fred gave his twin a dismissive wave. "You'd think they'd have one after hiring idiots like Percy."

"Speaking of the family prat..." George chimed in again. "So Perce, what brings you here? Doing a report on defective staircases?"

"One on our defective Ministry would be more useful," Ron said under his breath.

George looked at Ron. "I don't think there's enough parchment in England to write that report, " he said with a straight face.

Percy Weasley didn't react to his brothers' jibes. Instead, he just stood there looking blankly at his mother's grandfather clock. A stray curse had hit it, leaving its face hanging from a spring. The hands bearing their names now dangled limply on the broken mechanism.

In a subdued voice he said, "I was on Ministry business. We had a report that a wizard and his daughter are missing and unaccounted for -"

"If you're talking about the Lovegoods, they're in Kenya on a snorkack expedition," Ron explained as if it were an everyday occurrence. "Luna took a portkey, so your precious Ministry should know where they are."

Harry could tell that Percy wanted to ask, "They're on a what expedition?" but decided against it. Instead he said, "Thanks, I'll look into it tomorrow." Touching the damaged heirloom, Percy sadly muttered, "Mum's always loved this clock, it will break her heart to see it like this."

"It was an anniversary gift from Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian. Fighting the Dark Arts was about the only thing they ever took seriously." Everyone turned towards the kitchen, where Bill and Fleur had just come in. They hadn't been due back for another week. Looking at Fred, George, and Ron, Bill added, "You guys didn't have a chance to know them. Ron was about six months old when they died."

"We came as soon as we heard about the attack," Bill said, pulling off his traveling cloak as he approached Percy. Examining the clock, Bill said, "It looks bad, but there's a place in Diagon Alley that might be able to fix it. Assuming they're still open, that is."

"Well, if one of you would take it there, the rest of us can start on this place," Harry spoke up.

Percy stepped forward. "I'll do it." He quickly removed his own cloak and tightly wrapped it around the damaged artifact. By the time he was done, Bill had conjured and enchanted a crate to transport it in. Without exchanging a word, they carefully placed the clock inside and latched the box closed.

"By the way, all your pets are upstairs in the twins' old room, except for Hermione's cat. He bit me when I found him and ran into the kitchen." Percy told them.

Easily lifting the crate onto his shoulder, Percy got ready to leave. Just before he disapparated, he quietly said to Ron, "If you want to tell this Luna girl what happened, just send the letter to me. I can arrange for her to get it faster than regular owl post." No one was more astonished by this offer than Ron, who had written off his brother a long time ago.

"Good. Now that the Ministry's left, Harry can lend us a hand -" George said cheerfully after Percy was gone.

"Or a wand. Assuming that Miss Granger doesn't turn him in," Fred finished.

"Not today." Giving the twins a dirty look, Hermione wrapped Harry's arm around her waist and led him towards the kitchen. "I have better things to do with him," she added. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt his normally-reserved girlfriend pat him on his backside.

Once they were out of earshot, Harry asked, "What brought that on?"

"Fred and George think that all I do is study and boss people around. So just this once, I chose to take the opportunity to prove them wrong." Flashing that naughty little smirk of hers, Hermione quietly added, "Besides, you've earned a nice pat on the bum."

Before their talk could go any further, George's astonished voice was heard coming from the living room. "Um, have we missed something?" he asked. Then there was another pause before he shouted, "You're kidding! Since when?" Harry and Hermione exchanged a look, and then a brief laugh at the twins' expense.

**********
end chapter 9

Lies and Illusions chp. 10


Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 10
Godric's Hollow


It's a good thing we can do magic, Harry thought to himself as he laid on his bed the night before his birthday. Otherwise we'd still be piecing this place back together.

While they had finished repairing the Burrow a few days ago, there was no way for them to remove all reminders of the battle. Items ranging from most of the living room furniture to a couple of Ron's Chudley Cannons posters had been destroyed. The possibility of another attack led to some other changes as well. Most noticeable of which was the cabinet built just inside the front door to replace the old broomshed out in the yard.

The village of Ottery St. Catchpole was also recovering, albeit at a much slower pace. Confident that they had buried all evidence of magical involvement in the disaster, the Ministry had pulled out a week after the attack. Not that it would matter much to the fifteen Muggles who were killed in the attack.

But no matter how many repairs they made to the Burrow, there was no way to undo all the effects of the battle.

Once the heavy repair work was well underway, Bill set about revamping the various security measures around his family's home with a vengeance. His first act was to shred and burn every copy of the Ministry's guidelines he could find. Then he used all of his experience from Egypt, and some items from the twins' shop that he personally modified, to set up a series of defenses that even his fellow Curse-Breakers would have a hard time getting through.

Ron had taken to watching the horizon whenever they weren't working. While his mother thought he was shaken by the battle, his friends knew that he was waiting for Pig's return. In an unexpected move for Ron Weasley, he'd taken Percy up on his offer to help deliver his message to Luna and her father. So far, the tiny owl hadn't come back...which was bothering his owner no end. "The feathery git probably took the long way home," Ron told them just today. "Just watch...he'll show up sometime in October, hooting his little head off as usual."

But as depressed as he was, Ron was easier for his friends to deal with than his sister. Staying in St. Mungo's for a couple of weeks had cooled Ginny's rage somewhat. Now instead of insulting Harry and Hermione every chance she got, Ginny just watched them -- hurt mixed with a sad sort of longing on her face. To be honest, Harry found these looks a bit unnerving. Hermione, meanwhile, believed this was a good thing -- a sign that Ginny might finally be accepting their relationship and letting go of her crush.

Although they were around each other constantly, Harry and Hermione didn't have many chances to be alone before his birthday. Having the repair work to do on top of everything else limited them to a few stolen moments here and there. To make matters worse, a couple of new problems had cropped up.

First and most disturbing: his scar was bothering him again.

It wasn't hurting exactly, more like an unpleasant tingling. Voldemort had been blocking the connection between them ever since his failed attempt to possess Harry over a year ago. Now for some reason, the barrier between them seemed to have weakened slightly. Harry wanted to talk with Hermione about it, but couldn't find the chance to tell her thanks to their other problem -- a witch named Molly Weasley.

The woman had been on edge ever since the attack, mostly because her magical clock hadn't been returned from the repair shop yet. Without it around to keep tabs on her family (apparently the hands had stopped pointing at "mortal peril" all the time when Snape fled the Order), Mrs. Weasley became anxious whenever anyone came home late or wandered off. Ron found this out the hard way when he went to investigate what was left of Luna's home one afternoon. Upon his return, his mum gave him an earful about it at a volume rivaling that of a Howler.

Harry and Hermione had their own run-in with Molly's temper a week earlier. After working all day, they'd gone up to Hermione's room for a private talk -- a long talk that soon turned into an even longer snogging session. Pausing to catch their breath, they snuggled together in spite of the warm summer air. Just as they started dozing off in each other's arms, Mrs. Weasley burst in on them shouting, "What's going on in here?" From there she'd launched into a long (and undeserved) lecture about 'proper behavior', and had been watching them like a hawk ever since.

Harry was staring at the ceiling as these memories swirled around in his head. His apparation test was in the morning and he needed to get some sleep. However, every time he closed his eyes he saw Hermione's face floating before him quickly followed by a wave of frustration at the female members of the Weasley clan.

With the softest of knocks, Hermione entered his room in her pajamas and dressing gown. At her feet, a furry shadow with a long bottlebrush tail darted into the room just before she closed the door. In the dim light, Harry saw her raise a finger to her lips before casting a series of spells to ensure their privacy.

She muttered as she came to the bed, "This is ridiculous. We've been together almost a month, the whole wizarding world knows about us, and yet we have to sneak around this house like we're doing something wrong!"

"All because Molly Weasley thinks we're irresponsible," Harry replied as Hermione climbed onto the bed. Crookshanks had already curled up at Harry's feet.

"If this goes on much longer, I'm going to take a page out of Fleur's book and tell the woman to sod off. Mum and Dad are happy for us, and that's all the approval I need." Before Harry could respond; Hermione leaned over and gave him a long, passionate kiss. "Happy birthday, Harry."

He squinted at the clock on the nightstand. It was after midnight, and he was seventeen at last.

Hermione gently stroked his face, and saw him wince as her thumb brushed over the scar on his forehead.

"Harry?"

Looking away from her, Harry answered, "It's been acting up for the past week or two. I think something is bothering Voldemort enough that it's slipping through the barriers he's been putting up."

"Do you have any idea what it could be?" Hermione asked quickly.

Harry shrugged. "Not really, it's too weak for me to make out."

"Wonderful, and there isn't much we can do about it either," Hermione sighed. Giving him another kiss, she said, "I should go. You have a long day tomorrow, and need to be well rested for your test." She got up to leave.

"Hermione...stay. Please?" Hermione had been there for only a few minutes, and Harry didn't want her to leave so soon.

Hermione's shadowy form paused at the edge of his bed. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Harry."

"Why not?" Harry asked quietly. "If this is about Ron's mum -"

"No, it's about what might happen if I stay. You and I seem to be developing a habit of falling asleep in each other's arms," she explained.

Harry slid out of the covers to embrace his girlfriend, saying, "We didn't mean for it to happen before, those were accidents."

Even in the darkness, he could see Hermione bite her lower lip. "But it wouldn't be this time," she finally said. "Even though we'll only be sleeping, I would still be spending the night in your bed because you asked me to. That's something I never seriously considered doing with anybody until just now."

"For what it's worth, neither have I," Harry confessed. "That's why I didn't mind when we agreed to take things slow."

Hermione softly corrected him. "Actually, we agreed to try not to turn this into a sexual relationship until we're both ready for it -- that's not quite the same thing." She paused for a breath. "Look, I'm not complaining about our relationship or how it's going. It's just that it's progressing a little faster than I expected. I also can't forget about this 'gift' of mine or the fact that you seem to have it too. We know so little about it, so how can we know that it isn't affecting us somehow? Oh, Harry...what if it's making us feel this way?"

There was another pause as he thought about what she'd said. This power of theirs had never been far from Harry's mind these past weeks either. Perhaps it was just because he was aware of it now, but it seemed as if this ability had been getting stronger ever since their talk. Reading Hermione's emotions, in particular, was becoming very easy for him.

"I don't think it works that way," Harry finally said. "While this 'gift' of ours can sometimes make us mistake someone else's feelings for our own, I don't think it can actually create them. Once we're away from the other person, any feelings we get from them seem to fade away pretty quickly. It started happening to my feelings for Ginny before we even left Hogwarts, but not during the times you and I have been apart. All the same, I think you're right about this thing we do affecting us." Harry yawned as he laid back down. "Maybe when two people who can do this share the same feelings, they might feel the other person's emotions in addition to their own. That could make the feeling feel unusually strong, but wouldn't change the fact that they each feel the way they do."

She gave him a thoughtful look. "That sounds like a reasonable, well-thought out explanation -- I must be rubbing off on you. Now if we could just do something about your reckless streak...."

"I'm not reckless," he said innocently. "I'm just in love, and like waking up next to my beautiful girlfriend."

"When you put it that way," Hermione said, shedding her bathrobe, "how can I refuse?" She placed a soothing kiss on his scar, followed by one last one on his lips. Settling her head on Harry's shoulder, Hermione softly added, "And I love you too."

The two of them were sound asleep within minutes.

*********

As they expected, the following day was a busy one.

Harry and Ron's tests were scheduled for ten a.m. and quarter past ten, respectively. To make sure that they got there in time, they flooed to the Ministry with Arthur when he went to work. Security was even tighter than before, with Aurors now manning the gate in the atrium. Harry stared at them for a minute before turning to Mr. Weasley, who gave them a helpless gesture and disappeared through a smaller gate marked "Ministry Personnel Only".

The test itself was quick and easy, though the same couldn't be said for dealing with the people giving it. After filling out the foot-long applications, they were taken individually to a hallway with a hoop and an inspector at either end. There they had to apparate from one hoop to the other and back between being inspected for missing body parts. Both of them passed quite easily, but then had to wait another hour and a half for their licenses to be issued.

On their way out, Harry and Ron passed yet another Auror standing watch by the lifts.

"Why am I suddenly wondering if there are any Aurors actually out trying to catch the Death Eaters?" Harry said under his breath.

Ron snorted, "Don't ask me...just because half of them seem to be hanging around here, trying to look intimidating."

"For your information," a proud, and rather annoyed voice said behind them, "the Aurors are here to protect our workers and for the peace of mind of the general wizarding populace. After all, how can they expect us to defeat You-Know-Who if we can't even keep his followers out of the Ministry building?"

A dozen snide remarks flashed through Harry's brain as he turned towards Rufus Scrimgeour, but he didn't voice any of them. Instead he carefully said, "So, you're basically putting on a show. The gates, having Aurors all over the place...it's all to make people feel safe."

"Images are important after all," Scrimgeour quickly answered, "and these measures will deter any future attacks by the Death Eaters. Surely, someone as perceptive as you can see the wisdom -"

"You'll excuse me for not worrying about the Ministry's reputation when it can't even keep a confidential Auror report out of the newspaper," Harry replied coldly. Most of what he and Hermione had told Tonks had been published in the Daily Prophet a week after the attack. "Though I did notice that the part about how the Burrow was cut off from the Floo Network was omitted. Interesting, since I was under the impression that only the Floo Network Authority could do something like that."

The lift announced their arrival at the atrium level as the Minister of Magic tried to stammer a response. Without bothering to say goodbye to Scrimgeour, Harry grabbed Ron by the arm and walked over to the queue for the disapparation point.

**********

Beyond his trip to the Ministry, there was little to say about Harry's birthday. The Weasleys threw a party for him that evening, even though he'd told them it wasn't necessary. The food and butterbeer did cheer him up a bit, and several of his presents could prove useful in the days to come.

Bill, citing the interest Harry had shown in the subject, had given him a book entitled A Curse-Breaker's Guide to Wards and Traps. Meanwhile, Remus and Tonks gave him a small box containing an unusual wristwatch. The face was similar to Molly's clock, but with a couple of hands that actually told the time, and the watch face was protected by a metal lid that held a small mirror filled with faint moving images -- a miniature Foe-Glass.

"A place in Hogsmeade started making these a few months ago. They've become very popular with the Auror Division, even though the Ministry hasn't approved them yet," Tonks explained, tapping a similar watch on her wrist. "They're not available to the general public, but the witch running the shop was willing to make an exception in your case."

Last but not least, Hermione gave him a denim jacket from Fred and George's shop. The charm the twins used to make their shield clothing was limited in its ability to stop hexes and jinxes, but would offer at least some protection in a fight.

"I know that you've been thinking about getting one of these, and I figured that it would make a nice birthday present" Hermione whispered in Harry's ear. "Before you ask, I also bought jackets for Ron and myself out of the funds you set aside for us. Though I didn't appreciate the extra charm that I found on mine," she finished loudly, directing one of her death glares at the twins.

"Do you know what she's talking about, Fred?" George asked with feigned innocence.

"No idea, George," Fred answered. "Unless she has a problem with being labeled 'Property of Harry Potter'."

Crossing her arms, Hermione replied through clenched teeth. "When it makes me look like I'm wearing a neon sign on my back, you'd better believe that I have a problem with it! And you forgot to mention the arrow that was pointing at a certain part of my anatomy."

The twins, along with Ron and Ginny (in spite of herself) started laughing. Hermione glared at all of them in turn, until a pair of hands snaking around her middle eased her fury. Harry looked into her eyes for a second, and then thanked Hermione for her gift with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

*********

Few residents of Godric's Hollow paid any mind to the three teens passing through their village on the morning of August first. Dressed in Muggle clothes and carrying nondescript backpacks, the teens gave no sign of their magical natures or of the important event that was taking place. Not even as they cautiously approached the abandoned property where one of their lives had changed forever.

Harry Potter was coming home.

None of them knew what to expect at the Potter's old house, so they were treating this as a full-scale test of the methods they would use to recover the Horcruxes. All of them stayed alert as they walked from their apparation point to the house, and were wearing their shield jackets in case they came across any still active magical defenses.

Reaching the front gate, Hermione used a spell they'd learned from Bill to check for magic.

"There used to be a lot of enchantments on this place, but they've either decayed or been broken," she announced. "Most of them were fairly common things like anti-apparation and privacy charms, but there are several I don't recognize."

Casting his own spell, Harry carefully examined the color patterns it revealed. "One of them has to be a remnant of the Fidelius Charm, which probably failed when Mum and Dad were killed. As for the others...your guess is as good as mine, but I wouldn't have put it past my parents to cook up a few surprises of their own."

Exchanging a nod, the trio walked through the gate with their wands out.

The old house stood just out of sight from the road. Although it was still standing, they could already see some of the damage left from that fateful night sixteen years ago. All of the doors and windows, along with what looked like a large hole on the upper floor had been covered with sheets of plywood. Every so often their feet would find some piece of debris hidden among the weeds that had taken over the yard.

Hermione asked, "Are you sure it's even safe for us to go in? It looks like a bomb hit it."

"Yeah, a bomb named Voldemort," Harry answered. "Let's finish checking the yard and see my parents first. Remus said they were buried under an old tree in the back."

"Oi! I think I see it." Ron pointed along one side of the house.

Following his gesture, Harry saw the branches of a large oak tree at the far end of the backyard. "Yes, that must be it. We'll go around the other side and visit them after making sure it's clear," Harry told them.

With a quick nod, Ron took the lead as they went around the ruined building. Hermione walked a little ways behind him with Harry bringing up the rear.

Harry stopped for a moment to rub the side of the house. This had been his home once, the place where his parents meant to raise him. Surely there was something here besides a crumbling building and their graves. A reason for him to feel drawn to this place.

"Harry!" Hermione was waving him in her direction. "Take a look at this!"

Passing through a wrought-iron gate, Harry caught up with his friends...and stopped dead in his tracks when he got his first look at his parents' backyard.

It was big, so big that you could have fit the Dursleys' entire property into it five times over (at least). Most of it was taken up by the garden Remus had told him about. Even though no one had taken care of it in sixteen years, it was still one of the loveliest places Harry had ever seen. Common garden flowers like roses, asters, and lilies bloomed alongside their enchanted cousins and a selection of the most harmless magical herbs they'd come across in Herbology. The flowerbeds shaped the overgrown lawn into a rough oval while trees and dense shrubbery helped conceal it from the outside world. Taking it all in, Harry was struck by how familiar this garden was.

Hermione quickly pulled him to a dilapidated swing set within easy view of the house. Hanging by one side was a baby swing in the shape of a pudgy dragon. Tapping it with his wand made the dragon come to life: complete with beating wings, flicking tail, and a puff of smoke from the mouth.

"Gee," Harry muttered sarcastically, "wonder who came up with that...."

Hermione looked at him with a straight face. "Let me think.... Who do we know who knew your parents, is overly fond of dragons, and would actually think something like this would be a good present for someone's baby?"

Laughing together, they went over to Ron, who was standing by a pair of metal lockers.

"Look what I found," he said.

One of the lockers contained gardening tools. Inside the other, the one Ron was holding open, was an old Nimbus One Thousand and One -- which had been a top-of-the-line racing broom about a quarter of a century ago. Next to it was a toy broomstick half its size with a faded note attached:


Harry,

I know of no better way to mark your first birthday than
by giving you your first broom.

Love, Dad.


Beneath it someone else had added in a neat, feminine hand: NO FLYING IN THE HOUSE!

Turning over the tag, Harry found written in a painfully familiar scrawl: What your mum doesn't know won't hurt us, S.B..

Staring first at the brooms, and then at the trees around him, Harry walked to a dry fountain that marked the center of the yard. From there, he could clearly see the layout of the whole garden. With the house standing at one end, the hundred year-old oak at the other, and tall pine trees at regular intervals around the sides, he was standing in a perfect one-fifth scale Quidditch pitch.

Walking side-by-side, they made their way to the huge oak tree at the far end of the garden. On one side, a heavy branch supported a swing that would be perfect for a couple to relax on together. The grave Remus Lupin told him about, separated from the rest on the garden by a low fence, was on the other. A single headstone bore the names James Potter and Lily Evans Potter on either side of a Gryffindor lion. The dates read: 1960 - 1981.

Kneeling before his parents' grave, Harry softly brushed the fallen leaves off the stone as he spoke.

"Hi Mum, Dad.... I...it's been so long, but I finally got the chance to come and visit you."

His voice shook as he caressed the names before him. This place had been abandoned for so long, and yet it seemed to echo with the spirits of those who had lived here. As if the garden itself was a memorial to the witch and wizard whose lives had been so tragically been cut short.

"As you can see, I brought my friends.... Well, 'friends' doesn't quite cover what Hermione and Ron mean to me. Anyway, we came to see you and have a look around.

"There are so many questions, and you're probably the only ones who could have answered them. I wish you were here, that I could really talk to you...that I...."

Ron gave him a pat on the back to remind Harry he wasn't alone. Sharing a brotherly smile with the redhead, Harry then turned to Hermione. She held out a bouquet they had gathered at the Weasleys'. Once he'd taken the flowers, she dropped down beside him to offer her physical support in addition the emotional strength her and Ron were already providing.

"I love you, Mum...Dad. I always have and always will."

After casting a quick spell to preserve the flowers, Harry placed them in a crystal vase concealed by the tall grass in front of the headstone.

**********

When they'd finished paying their respects to the Potters, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down for lunch before going on. A small patio by the house provided a lovely spot for a picnic.

Swallowing a last bite of food sometime later, Harry brushed off his hands and checked his watch. A glance at the Foe-Glass showed it to be nearly blank.

"We'd better get going," he told them. "There's a lot to do, and the house isn't exactly small."

Ron was working on his third sandwich. "Great, where do we start?'

"Perhaps by taking a peek inside to see if it's even safe for us to enter. We just need to vanish some of the boards," Hermione told them as she cleaned up.

Harry thought for a moment. "Transfiguring the plywood might be a better idea. Then we can just reverse the spell when we leave."

Standing up, Harry chose a window to test his idea on. With a gentle wave of his wand and a few muttered words, the opaque sheet was transformed into a plate of glass.

"Interesting technique, very subtle," Hermione commented.

Harry replied, "Picked it up from Dumbledore. You could barely tell he was doing magic half the time."

Changing a few more windows gave them a decent glimpse of the inside. There was some broken furnishings and other debris, but it wasn't collapsed or burned in any way. Agreeing to enter, they split up to transfigure the other lower story windows. The upper ones would have to be done from the inside.

When they were finished, three well-placed Diffindo spells from Hermione made a section of the plywood covering the front door fall into Harry and Ron's waiting hands. As they slid it to one side, Hermione quietly transfigured some of the debris into hardhats for them for them to put on before going in.

As they began their exploration, Harry's thoughts turned to what he knew of his parents' final moments. The entry hall and adjacent rooms showed signs of James Potter's valiant attempt to save his family. Marks left by stray spells, water stains, pieces of furniture, and bits of wood and plaster were everywhere. Examining the traces left by the duel quickly showed a pattern: near the door were the marks left by Stunning Spells, Impediment Jinxes, and the like, whereas the area by the stairway showed a lot of Dark magic -- including several Killing Curses.

Ron let out a low whistle. "Your dad sure put up one hell of a fight, Harry. He even animated the kitchen table to help him." The remains of said table lay in the middle of the hallway, its legs bent in ways that were only possible if it had been walking.

"I was once told that my dad's wand was good for transfiguration. So it makes sense...." By the stairs, Harry's foot knocked something out of the wreckage. With a casual wave of his wand, Harry muttered, "Scourgify."

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked.

Staring blankly at his friends, Harry picked up a decayed piece of wood. "Dad's wand, at least what's left of it. This must be where he died." He stared at the broken mahogany wand for a minute before gently sliding it into his pocket.

From the beginning, coming here was about Harry looking for information. A clue to the whereabouts of the Horcruxes, something to calm Hermione's fears about their feelings...anything. But as they searched, all they found was an interesting collection of ruined wizard and Muggle artifacts. Molding Muggle novels and encyclopedias shared a bookcase with ruined spellbooks, a wizard wireless lay broken amid a pile of old phonograph records, a gas stove sat side-by-side with an enchanted icebox in the kitchen.... Not much, but enough for them to get an idea of what the house had been like when Harry's parents were alive.

They went from room to room, carefully examining each room both visually and magically. Nothing salvageable was found in the lower parts of the house, except for a torn photograph of an old couple who, judging by their cloaks and robes, had to be Harry's magical grandparents.

Moving upstairs, Hermione said, "You know, this house isn't quite as bad as I thought. It would take a lot of work, but I think it could actually be repaired."

"Don't see why you'd want to," Ron answered. "Place is dead depressing if you ask me."

Hermione chastised him, "That's a very tactless thing to say, Ron. Especially considering what happened here."

Holding his lit wand aloft, Harry thought for a moment. There was a lingering sadness to the house, a sense of tragedy if you will, because of the shape it was in. People had come here all those years ago: Hagrid, whoever had buried James and Lily Potter, idiots from the Ministry gathering anything the Dark Lord might have left behind.... But none of them had tried to fix the place, almost as though they were afraid to undo Voldemort's work. Typical, Harry thought to himself.

But even with the massive damage, the house was still standing. Sure there was wreckage all over the place and the roof leaked like a sieve, but it continued to defy time, nature, and the Dark Arts' attempts to bring it down. In a way, it reminded Harry of the shape he'd had been in after some of his encounters with Voldemort. Perhaps it was just waiting for someone to come and patch it up.

The trio examined the first two rooms the found upstairs in the same manner they used downstairs. One was a bathroom, which still held some puddles from the most recent rainstorm. The other was once a playroom. More than most, this room had been heavily damaged, with bits of broken toys littering the floor along with the remains of the large box they were once stored in. In a far corner, however, something had survived virtually unharmed: a plain, wooden, Muggle rocking horse.

Ron stared at it in wonder. "Where would your parents get something like that?" he asked.

"From Grandpa Evans," Harry answered. "Dudley had one just like it once, until he threw a tantrum and broke it into a dozen pieces. That was the only time I can remember Aunt Petunia getting mad at him."

They moved on to the next room with a feeling of dread. There was nothing left of it. The plaster and much of the wood lath beneath it had been pulverized, leaving no sign of what might have been painted there. The gaping hole they'd seen marked where the window had been. Now it, along with a good chunk of the outer wall, was scattered all over the front yard. The door had been reduced to splinters along with the furnishings. But nevertheless, they knew what room this used to be. A gap in the plywood outside allowed a ray of light to fall on a broken crib on one side of the room, next to a blackened spot on the floor. Clearly, that was the place where Lord Voldemort had stood when he tried to kill Harry Potter for the first time.

From the moment he'd seen the hole in the side of the building, he'd known which room it had been. So, this is it, he thought. The place where I got my scar.

Taking two steps into the room, Harry was suddenly overcome with emotional pain and a deep, paralyzing sense of loss, as if some vital part of himself had been suddenly torn away. It sapped his strength, leaving him unable to move from this spot between the crib and the door. At the same time, however, there was something else radiating from this spot -- an echo of something warm and familiar, but which Harry couldn't name....

A trembling hand touching his shoulder brought Harry partly back to his senses. Hermione stood next to him, white as a sheet. Relief flowed through him as he pulled her into a tight embrace. Everything was all right, Hermione was here. Together they would overcome the darkness that had taken so much from him. Together, they could do anything.

The two of them stood there for a while, holding each other like their lives depended on it. Neither of them had any way of knowing that they were standing in the exact spot where Lily Potter gave her life to save her son's.

**********
end chapter 10

Lies and Illusions chp. 11
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. Additional disclaimer below.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 11
Legacy

Ron moved off after a few minutes and left Harry in Hermione's capable hands. There were still rooms to check, and he knew they weren't going anywhere until they were.

Being in this house was a rather strange experience for him. Being part of the legend of the Boy Who Lived made it a famous place, and many wizards would give their wand arms for the chance to visit the Potters' home -- either to see the place where Voldemort was defeated, ransack it for souvenirs, or burn it to the ground. But for reasons he didn't know, the entire wizarding world considered the village of Godric's Hollow to be off-limits nowadays. No witch or wizard had come here since the Potters were killed.

Until now, that is.

Across the hall was a broken door that used to be magically locked. Passing through it, Ron discovered why Hermione had insisted on them wearing these weird Muggle hats. A piece of the door jamb had come loose and hit him in the head when he opened the door. Thanks to Hermione's foresight, it just bounced off his helmet without doing any harm.

The room itself had once been a small potions lab. Like everywhere else, all the glass containers lay in pieces amid their spoiled contents. A book on healing potions sitting next to the overturned cauldron was intact and open to a page about diluting Pepper-Up Potion so it could be given to a baby. Harry must have had a cold shortly before Voldemort attacked him and his parents.

Having visited many wizard homes while growing up, Ron couldn't get over this particular one. Harry's mum and dad clearly used a lot of magic around the house, but also had plenty of Muggle stuff lying about that his own father would go crazy over. Too bad that ruddy bastard Riddle had to show up and wreck the place. Of course; if that hadn't happened, Ron probably would have met a very different Harry Potter on the Hogwarts Express six years ago.

Finding nothing else, he left the room. An airing cupboard sat across the hall, filled with moldy sheets and blankets. Before checking the last few rooms, Ron decided to look in on Harry and Hermione. They appeared to have gotten over whatever had been bothering them a little while ago and were now poking around the remains of Harry's old room.

No matter how much they told him about it, Ron didn't think he'd ever really understand the power Harry and Hermione had. Sure, it explained a lot of things he'd seen them do over the years...but why hadn't he heard of such magic until now? He was the one who had been raised in the wizarding world after all!

Picking the next door in line, he found himself in what had been a nice, but undistinguished, spare bedroom. After transfiguring those to let some light in (Lumos was a handy little spell, but it was no substitute for proper lighting), he started poking around. As he went through a damaged wardrobe, Ron's thoughts wander back to his friends.

Ginny would slug him for saying this -- but getting together with Hermione was the best thing he'd ever seen happen to Harry. They had always been close, a fact that had been feeding the Hogwarts rumor mill since their third year (if not sooner), but that closeness paled in comparison to what Ron was now seeing. They also had a good effect on each other: Harry had gotten stronger and steadier (good thing too, his erratic behavior over the previous year had been downright scary at times) while Hermione had become just a little less uptight than she used to be. Then there was the way they jumped whenever he reminded them that they weren't the only ones in the room....

Ron passed through the last door, and found himself in the nearly intact master bedroom...surprising, considering what the rest of the house was like. It was a remarkably ordinary bedroom, one that could have belonged to virtually any young married couple. Some pictures of friends and family, a magically locked jewelery box on Lily Potter's dresser, a book resting on a nightstand...all perfectly normal. Another door led to a walk-in closet filled with clothes ranging from jeans to dress robes -- again, exactly what you could find in almost any wizard home.

This is why my sister and Harry would never have worked out, Ron thought to himself. Ginny's too hung up on him being The Boy Who Lived to see that Harry's fame has a serious downside to it. Shit, I didn't appreciate it either until we stayed with those bloody relatives of his a couple of months ago. Harry really should have let Hermione and me give it to those ruddy bastards before we left, would've served them right.

Now that had been one of the nastiest shocks Ron had ever had, and was yet another reason why he was so supportive of his friends' romance. Then again, his growing attachment to Luna Lovegood had a little bit to do with it too. Okay; the girl might be completely out to lunch, but she was a lot of fun to be around and didn't creep him out like Lavender had started to after their first few weeks together. Now if Luna would just come back from her snorkack hunt (or whatever it was that she was doing)....

Last of all, Ron checked the nightstand. Neither it nor the book resting there radiated any magic. Turning away, his eyes suddenly caught a glint of something on the wall. It was faint, and Ron probably wouldn't have seen anything if he hadn't been standing right next to it. Casting the detection spell directly on the spot revealed a series of fine lines bordering a rectangular section of the wall.

Ron's heart leapt as he examined the wall more closely. There was a door here, and it had been hidden in such a way that it couldn't be found without a deliberate search. What's more, whoever had performed the spellwork had done so with such skill and precision that only the slightest trace of magic could be found. Just the sort of thing one might expect from a magical couple like James and Lily Potter.

"YES!" Ron yelled, and ran to get his friends.

**********

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were finishing up the nursery. The feeling, or echo of a feeling, they had felt so strongly was gone now. Not a sign remained, no matter how many times they crossed that spot or sorted through the piles of debris.

After half an hour of searching, Hermione finally convinced him there was nothing here. Stepping back into the hallway, they saw Ron running towards them.

"Harry, Hermione! Over here, I think I've found something!" he shouted.

Exchanging a look, they joined Ron as he explained.

"It's in your parents' room, Harry, near the bed. Wouldn't have spotted it if I wasn't right next to the wall."

Harry stopped for a minute to take in his parent's bedroom. Nearly everything was as it had been before that night, almost as if it were waiting for them to return. A few cleaning charms, new windows, and a fresh coat of paint and everything would be good as new. Seeing the pictures on his mother's dresser, Harry went to have a closer look at them. One was a copy of the wedding picture Hagrid had given him so long ago. Next to it was a Muggle photo also taken at his parent's wedding, featuring his grandparents and a far younger image of his Aunt Petunia. There were also some of Harry's baby pictures: his mother holding him shortly after birth, little Harry riding his toy broomstick with his dad floating nearby. Finally, there was one of a twenty-year-old Sirius Black showing off a big black motorcycle.

Harry whispered to himself, "I remember that bike. I had a dream I was flying on it once, a month before I found out I was a wizard."

Hermione eased the picture from his hand. "You want to take them with us? They might be safer that way."

Shaking his head, Harry moved towards the place where Ron was standing. Even now, more than a year after his death, it was hard for Harry to think about Sirius. It simply hurt too much and his godfather would never have wanted Harry to grieve over his passing.

Ignoring the concern coming from Hermione, Harry examined the spot Ron was pointing out.

"You're right, Ron," Harry said. "There's some powerful magic here. I can almost feel it, even without casting -"

Behind them, Hermione narrowed her gaze. "Harry, back away for a second," she said.

Harry did as she asked, only to be stopped after a few steps. Hermione cast the detection spell again, asked him to approach the wall, and then back up again.

"Now cast the spell so we can all see the enchantments, and touch the wall again." Puzzled, Harry stared at her, only to have his girlfriend say, "Trust me, Harry, there's a good reason for it."

Wondering what she was thinking, Harry started casting the spell. Making the traces magic left behind visible to everyone was more complicated than making yourself see them. As Bill had explained, it also had to be done on a specific spot or object, and was therefore of limited use. Gringott's Curse-Breakers generally used the spell to warn each other of any nasty surprises they found while searching old tombs and such.

In this case, what Hermione had noticed became clear almost instantly. The marks, which Ron had described as barely visible, became the sharp outlines of a door as Harry moved closer. There was something else on it as well, a pattern of dots that reminded him of the star charts they used to study in Astronomy.

Hermione clapped her hands together. "Oh, brilliant! When your parents built this, they must have enchanted it in a way that allows it to sense your presence."

"You mean like how the goblins enchant the high security vaults at Gringott's?" Ron asked.

"Basically," Hermione answered. "Enchanting something to recognize a specific person a bit more complicated though. It's also very hard to conceal, yet our detection charm barely caught it before. I'd be willing to bet that we wouldn't be able to find this at all if Harry wasn't in the house."

There was nothing resembling a keyhole or handle of any sort, so Harry tried the opening charms they had learned over the years. None of them worked.

"Maybe they set it up with a password. Like the Marauder's Map," Ron suggested.

Exchanging a look, they decided to give it a go. For the next hour, they all tried to find the words to open the door. Everything from Harry introducing himself, to the names of famous Quidditch players Ron suggested, to the historical names Hermione came up with had no effect. They even tried "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good" and cursing Voldemort with the most colorful swear words Ron could think of, but nothing happened.

Finally they took a break and sat down on the bed together.

Hermione commented, "This reminds me of a book I read once. A wizard spent hours trying to find the password to the gate of a lost kingdom."

"So how did he work it out?" Ron asked.

"Oh, it was written on the door the whole time," Hermione replied. "He just translated the inscription wrong."

Chuckling to himself, Harry picked up the book that was sitting on the nightstand. "We could use something like that right now. If Mum and Dad wanted me to find it, they must have left the password somewhere around here."

"With our luck," Ron muttered, "they put it in your old room and it's now scattered all over the front yard."

Trying to distract himself from his friend's all-too-likely observation, Harry opened the book to the book marked spot and started reading. Many of the words were unfamiliar to him, but one term caught his attention.

Blinking to make sure he saw it right, Harry read the paragraph again out loud. "'I would not take this thing, if it lay by highway. Not were Minas Tirith falling in ruin and I alone could save her, so, using the weapon of the Dark Lord for her good and my glory. No, I do not wish for such triumphs, Frodo son of Drogo.'"

"What in world is that?" Ron asked. Hermione's eyes went wide when she heard the name "Frodo"

"Something from the book that was sitting over there," Harry replied, pointing at the nightstand. "If you think that's interesting, listen to this: 'War must be, while we defend our lives against a destroyer who would devour all; but I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend: the city of the Men of Numenor -'"

"I don't believe it," Hermione interrupted, staring at the book over Harry's shoulder. "What is a Muggle book about wizards and magic doing in a wizard's house? And come to think of it, I don't remember seeing the other two downstairs -"

Ron stared at her. "Would you mind telling us what you're talking about?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and slowly explained. "The story I told you about the wizard trying to open the magically locked door is a scene from a larger story called The Lord of the Rings, which was written by a Muggle named J.R.R. Tolkien. It's usually published in three books, and this is the middle one." Hermione turned her attention to Harry. "It can't be a coincidence that your parents only had this one lying about...."

Something clicked in Harry's head when she said this, and he started flipping through the book.

"Harry, you don't think...?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide a saucers.

"It makes perfect sense," Harry replied. "Voldemort and his Death Eaters all have two things in common: delusions of grandeur, and a complete disdain for anything Muggle. So if you wanted to lock something with a password they would never figure out, what better choice would you have than a passage from a Muggle book?"

Ron looked doubtful. "Nice idea, too bad they chose one you didn't know."

"But I might have," Harry said. "Mum and Dad wanted Sirius to be the one to raise of me if anything happened to them. They had no way of knowing that Dumbledore would step in and have me shipped off to the Dursleys, who would never let a book like this anywhere near their house." Harry took a deep breath before he went on. "Sirius, on the other hand, would have gotten the whole set simply because Mum and Dad had this one lying around."

Ron wasn't quite convinced. "Wouldn't it be kinda risky to just leave it sitting in the open?" he asked as Harry stood up.

"Not necessarily," Hermione said. "In all likelihood, Voldemort would just toss it aside as soon as he realized that it's a Muggle book...if he picked it up at all."

"Exactly," Harry finished. Flipping a few more pages, he said, "Hopefully, they chose something that stands out, or marked it in some way...."

He eventually came across a single creased page near the end, as if someone had folded it to mark their place. There was nothing unusual about it...except that there weren't any others like it in the book. When folded, the corner of the page pointed at a particular block of text theat was separate from the others. "Something like this, perhaps."

Glancing over the words, Harry asked himself, "Great, now how do you pronounce this stuff?" His eyes turned to Hermione.

"Oh no, don't look at me," she said defensively. "I only read it once, and that was a long time ago. To be honest, it wasn't really my kind of book."

Touching his wand to the wall, Harry looked at the strange passage and tried to say the words as best he could. "A Elbereth Gilthoniel o menel...."

He'd barely started the second line when the wall came to life. The dots he'd noticed earlier briefly glowed like red and gold stars, forming the unmistakable shape of a phoenix. Their fading was accompanied by a loud click as the section of wall retreated a bit and then rolled quietly out of sight. Within it were some shelves filled with boxes, half a dozen scrolls, numerous books, and a letter with Harry's name neatly written on the envelope. Opening it with shaking fingers, he saw that the letter was dated nearly seventeen years ago.

Try as he might, Harry couldn't focus on the writing. A warm, comforting hand settled on his shoulder and he heard Hermione ask if she should read it. He gave a quick nod and felt her ease the note out of his hands.


"Dearest Harry,

"Your father and I hope you never have to read this...but we live in dangerous times. Those
dangers now seem to be taking aim on our family. Be assured that we are doing everything
possible to stop it. But in case we should fail, we created this place for you.

"No doubt you have a lot of questions; about us, about yourself, and (perhaps most pressing)
about the wizard who calls himself Lord Voldemort. We're sorry if we haven't been there to
answer them, but hopefully what you'll find here will help.

"To begin, you should know that a prophecy was made a few months before your birth. One
that might apply to you.

" 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...' "


Hermione stopped for a moment. "Harry, is this...?" she asked.

"Yes," he said tonelessly.

She bit her lip and continued reading.


"Now Harry, don't let this scare you or go to your head. Divination is, by far, the LEAST reliable
form of magic there is. The only reason this prophecy has any power at all is because Voldemort
believes in such things, learned of its existence, and it made him pee in his robes (that's your
father talking).

"Although your father and I don't put much stock in prophecies or Divination in general, we can't
ignore this either. For this reason, we and some friends of ours who are also affected by this
prophecy are searching for a way of stopping Voldemort before he can find us. As a precaution,
however, we will also be placing all the information we gather in this place for safekeeping.

"What to do with this is, of course, up to you. If you choose to carry on our fight, there's an old
Muggle saying you might want to remember: knowledge is power. Learn as much as you can, for
you never know what bit of knowledge could save you or the people you care about.

All our love,
Mum & Dad"


Hermione fell silent, waiting for Harry's reaction. For months, their search for the Horcruxes had been stymied by a lack of information. Now they might have to spend the next couple of weeks going over everything in this hidden cupboard.

Steeling himself for what they would find, Harry picked up a scroll and started reading. Soon Hermione and Ron chose their own items to look at, and they all got down to work.

As it turned out, the scrolls were accounts of the Potters' and Longbottoms' encounters with Voldemort. Harry would have to go over them in more detail later, but at first glance it appeared that his parents had experimented with battle strategies similar to the ones him, Ron, and Hermione had been working on this past month. Putting the scrolls aside, Harry glanced over to where Hermione was leafing through some books filled with newspaper clippings from the first war.

Ron suddenly looked up from the box he was going through. "This thing is full stuff about the Death Eaters. Here's a file about Lucius Malfoy...and another one about that Lestrange bitch -"

"See any with the initials R.A.B.?" Harry asked.

"Not yet," Ron answered, "but it might be in the other box. I'll check when I'm done with this one."

Harry nodded, took a book from the pile next to Hermione and started reading. Some time later, he looked up and asked Hermione how she was doing.

"It looks like your parents were trying to find some pattern in Voldemort's activities," she said. "The problem is, many the incidents appear to be almost random -- especially the attacks on Muggles."

Ron snorted. "That's not surprising, tormenting Muggles is the Death Eaters' idea of fun."

"True," Hermione conceded, "but there has to be another reason why he goes after Muggles so much."

"It's probably for the same reason he does everything else: to recruit followers and scare his enemies, " said Harry. "By attacking Muggles, Voldemort is telling the pure-bloods who think they're better than everyone else: Follow me and we'll drive all the Muggle-borns and other 'undesirables' out of wizard society! On the other side, a lot of witches and wizards are terrified of what would happen if the Muggles find out about our world. Especially in the Ministry, whose main job is hiding the very existence of magic."

Hermione stared at him, her mouth open. "Harry, I realize that you know a lot about Voldemort, but where - ?"

Harry tapped the book in his lap. "It says so right here. Mum and Dad pasted a bunch of notes in this book. Most likely from the people who were helping them."

"Same with this one." Hermione turned a few pages. "Here's a note with the initials A.L. at the bottom. Who could A.L. be?"

A moment passed before Harry quietly said, "Alice Longbottom."

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry in shock. Watching him pull the false Horcrux from his pocket, Hermione asked, "How do you figure that, Harry?"

Harry removed and unfolded the bubble gum wrapper Mrs. Longbottom had given him in St. Mungo's weeks before. Comparing it to one of the notes in the book, he saw that they were very close in size and shape.

"The Longbottoms were tortured because some of the Death Eaters, like Bellatrix Lestrange, thought they knew where Voldemort went after he tried to kill me the first time," Harry explained. "And Mum said in her letter that they had friends, who were also affected by the prophecy, helping them gather information. Frank and Alice Longbottom are the obvious choices because the prophecy could have applied to Neville instead of me."

It took a minute for Ron to pick his jaw up off the floor. "Wait, you can't be serious. I mean...Neville Longbottom, the guy who for the longest time barely knew which end of his wand to hold?"

"None other," Harry said. "Like my parents, the Longbottoms defied Voldemort three times and lived...and Neville was born near the end of July, just like me. The only differences between us is that my mum was Muggle0born and the fact that Voldemort chose to come after me instead of him." Harry pointed to his scar. Handing the scrapbook over to Hermione, Harry took one of the smaller books from the hidden cupboard.

As it turned out, Harry had grabbed his mother's diary. It said a lot about Lily that she had put a disclaimer in the front saying that, despite her early opinion of him, she had come to love James Potter with all her heart (after he got over himself).

Some time later, Harry's reading was interrupted when he heard Hermione gasp. She had put aside the scrapbooks for now, and was checking what was left in the cupboard. Feeling a wave raw emotion emanating from his girlfriend, Harry went over to her and saw that she was holding an old book with what appeared to be a seal for the Hogwarts library on the cover.

Placing an arm around her trembling shoulders, Harry asked, "Hermione, what is it?"

Instead of answering, she opened the book and scanned the table of contents. Eyes wide, and with unsteady breaths; Hermione turned to a marked section of the book. What she found made her slump against Harry, who led her to the bed.

"Hermione, please...you're -"

Finally responding to his voice, she said, "Scaring you, I know. Sorry." When she raised her head to him, Harry was surprised to see a wide grin on Hermione's face. "This is the book I told you about a month ago. The one containing all sorts of information about witches and wizards with unusual abilities."

"The Rare Book of Rare and Unusual Magic by Mr. E. Nigma," Harry quoted in an incredulous tone. "Who the bloody hell comes up with these things?"

"Authors with a rather odd sense of humor, I would think. Look on the bright side: at least this one doesn't bite," Hermione said with a laugh. "Anyway, we should both read this section very carefully. Your dad put this in it." She handed him a card which had been acting as a bookmark.


Harry,

We um...acquired this book from the Hogwarts library. It mentions one of the
more subtle tricks certain Death Eaters use. More importantly, however, it's probably the only
non-living source of information about a "gift" that's been known to run in our family. Your
great-grandmother used to say that I have a weak form of it, but I never paid much
attention to her -- until I found out that Lily not only has it, but is exceptionally sensitive.
You're still way too young for us to know for sure, but there's a good chance that you inherited
this ability from us.

Love, Dad

p.s. I hope that I can get my invisibility cloak back from Dumbledore soon. He caught me (Hey,
there's first time for everything!) sneaking the book out, and I needed an excuse for being in the
castle. Saying that I wanted to give him the cloak for safekeeping before the Fidelius is cast
seemed to satisfy him. I'd better go, Lily just rolled her eyes at me for going on about it again.
J.P.


Harry and Hermione shared a long silence, broken only by Ron dropping the other box on the floor. "Rare and unusual power" was what Dumbledore said it would take to defeat Voldemort, and had insisted that Harry somehow possessed that very thing. Harry hadn't believed it at the time, but now it seemed that the old man may have been on the right track -- even if he was wrong about it being the ability to love.

One glance at the book showed why it was rare. Unlike most books (wizard and Muggle) it hadn't been run off a printing press. Instead, the pages were covered with a neat, easy-to-read handwriting and carefully drawn illustrations. The unusual form of the text didn't take away from the interesting topics it described. Such as the chapter entitled Empaths, in a section marked Rare Magi: Inherent Abilities.

Of all the kinds of rare powers a witch or wizard can have, few are as obscure as Empathy: the ability to sense the emotions and/or emotional state of others, being or animal. Deeply personal, easily misinterpreted, and often ridiculed by our society, few Empaths speak openly of the benefits and dangers of their rare gift. In fact, if it weren't for this author's own extremely close friendship with an empathic witch, this portion of the book would be very short indeed.

Although this power is sometimes mistaken for a form of Legilimancy (see Rare Magi: Learned Powers, chapter 9), it is in fact one of the most ancient forms of magic. Like the better known Seers and Metamorphmagi, Empaths are born with this power and see it grow and develop during childhood and adolescence. Additionally, neither a wand nor eye contact is required for this power to work (although the eyes are used to help focus an Empath's ability). Sensing the feelings of others depends largely on their physical proximity, strength of the other's emotions, and the amount of time they spend in the Empath's company. In the case of Empaths (strong ones in particular) who are unaware of their powers, these feelings can easily be mistaken for their own. Also, some have claimed that a kind of magical bond can form between Empaths. The exact nature of these bonds are unknown, but they supposedly develop as a result of certain relationships and the "emotional resonance" that sometimes occurs between Empaths. Romantic love and the ties between a parent and child form the strongest of these connections (the former giving rise to the concept of "soul mates"), while simple friendship generally forms the weakest.

Harry and Hermione sat together in silence as they read the chapter. They were so engrossed in the book, neither one noticed the lengthening shadows outside until Ron yelled for their attention.

"Oi, lovebirds! Sorry to interrupt, but I've found him!" Ron held up a file. "Before you ask, Hermione, he's the only one in the lot with the initials R.A.B. and he was killed while trying to leave the Death Eaters seventeen years ago."

"Great, what's his name?" Harry jumped to his feet.

Ron swallowed and watched his friend closely. "Regulus A. Black"

The surge of excitement Harry felt vanished even faster than it appeared. He knew the name all-to-well, for Regulus had been the younger brother of Sirius Black. Even now, he could almost hear his godfather's voice saying: "...he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort."

Collapsing back onto the bed, Harry tried to stop other memories of the weeks he'd spent in Sirius' house from racing through his mind. Then, just before he'd forced them back into their little corner of his mind, one oh-so-important image from that summer came back to him.

He spoke in barely a whisper. "I know where he hid the Horcrux. In fact, it might still be there!"

"Uh, mate, could you be just a little clearer on that?" Ron asked.

"Grimmauld. Regulus Black stashed the Horcrux he stole in his family home at Grimmauld Place before he was killed. A piece of Voldemort's soul was sitting under the Order's goddamned nose and no one had the slightest idea!" Harry replied.

Hermione snapped her fingers. "The locket we found while we were cleaning. The one none of us could open, and that Sirius tossed in with the other stuff we were getting rid of."

"Oh great," Ron moaned, "now we have to go searching Muggle dumps and the shady places Mundungus Fletcher deals with."

Harry thought about it for a minute. "Maybe not. You forgot something -- Kreacher. Kreacher kept stealing back the things we were trying to throw out and hiding them in his den. Slytherin's locket just might be among them."

"You could ask him if he recovered any-" Hermione started to say.

"No," Harry cut her off. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I know how much you care about the house elves, but we can't risk giving information to somebody who would run off to Bellatrix Lestrange if given half the chance. There's just too much at stake."

Thinking about it for a moment, Hermione reluctantly agreed with him. Checking her watch, she said, "It's getting late, and Ron's mum will pitch a fit if we show up after dark."

Glancing at his own watch, Harry saw that the afternoon had passed into early evening. "You're right." Rising to his feet again, he surveyed the room. "Let's pack this stuff up and take it with us. I don't want to draw attention to this place by visiting it too much," he told them in a friendly but commanding voice.

It took some effort, and a lot of shrinking charms, to squeeze everything in their packs. Hermione held onto the book and gathered the remaining items in the hidden cupboard. Ron took the files he'd been searching, while Harry grabbed a couple of the scrapbooks, all of the scrolls, his mother's diary, and the copy of The Two Towers. At the last minute he also picked up the pictures he'd seen earlier, along with his mother's jewelry box.

Hoisting their packs, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved through the house reversing the magic they'd done on the windows and sealing it up as best they could. Once outside, they slipped the piece of plywood back over the front door and locked the front gate before heading round back. Harry left the last details to his friends so he could say goodbye to his parents, and thank them for their foresight.

"Everything's set, we can go when you're ready," Hermione told him.

Harry glanced at her. "Almost done." He gently placed the remains of the mahogany wand by the headstone. "You dropped this, Dad, and I thought you'd like it back."

Standing up, he put an arm around Hermione's waist. "Mum, Dad...I know that you're not really here, not the important part of you anyway...but I want to introduce you my girlfriend, Hermione Granger. We've been friends for years and started dating last month. The loud redhead is my other best friend, Ron Weasley...he's like the brother I never had. Anyway, we've got to go. Goodbye for now...and thanks for everything."

Ron called down from the house, "Harry, what do you want to do with the brooms?"

"Just seal the locker and they should be all right," he shouted back.

"Until we return," Hermione said beside him.

Harry looked at her. "How did...?"

"By watching you, and listening to this gift of mine that I'm finally beginning to understand." Her gaze wandered from the book in her arms to the garden they were standing in. "There's something about this place, isn't there. Like it's just waiting for us to come and...."

"Make it a home again," Harry quietly finished. Both of them started blushing as he completed Hermione's thought. They had only been dating for a month. It was far too early to seriously consider such thoughts, yet he could easily see them building a life together in this house. It filled him with hope, and a promise that something good would be waiting for him at the end of this dark road he was on. A place for him to go to when the war was over, and Voldemort was nothing more than a bad memory.

Standing back-to-back with his friends, Harry took one last look at the house before disapparating. Yes, he'd come back someday, but he had a job to do first.

**********
end chapter 11

Author's note and additional disclaimer: Excerpts from The Lord of the Rings belong to the J.R.R. Tolkien Estate Limited. Unlike Hermione (and J.K. Rowling, if memory serves); I'm a great fan of Tolkien's works. Naturally, this is why I chose to include one of my favorite quotes from The Lord of the Rings (the second passage Harry recited). Anybody who has the books can find the first two passages in The Two Towers; book IV, chapter 5: The Window on the West; and the full Elvish (Sindarin) verse in chapter 10: The Choices of Master Samwise. I would give the exact pages, but they vary with the edition.

Lies and Illusions Chp.12
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers.

Author's note: I'm sorry that it's taken so long for me to update, but I've had many and more pressing projects to deal with these past few months. To make up for this, I'm posting chapters 11 & 12 together.
_________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 12
The New Headmistress


Harry accidentally slept in the day after their trip to Godric's Hollow. Whether it was because of the emotional roller coaster he'd been through, or staying up late taking notes from the Rare Book with Hermione, he didn't know. Then again, he could have just have forgotten to set his alarm clock.

Seeing her on the stairs after he'd showered and dressed reminded him of last night. Having Hermione snuggled next to him with the old text spread across their legs made it the most enjoyable study session he'd ever had. It also proved to be very productive, as the information they'd uncovered had already answered some of their questions about this gift they shared.

As he reached her, Hermione covered his mouth and raised a finger to her lips. Below them, he could hear male and female voices carrying on a rather heated argument.

"Leave me alone, Ginny," Ron yelled. "There's nothing to tell."

His sister acidly replied, "Bollocks, you three are hiding something. I want to know what happened during those weeks you were gone. All of you have been acting strange ever since you got back, especially Harry -"

Ron snorted. "If you knew Harry half as well as you think, you'd know that he was acting weird all last term. Hell, Hermione noticed it the first day he was here last summer."

Ginny muttered something they couldn't catch.

"I wouldn't say things like that about her if I were you," Ron replied in a stern tone, "not if you ever want Harry to talk to you again."

"Excuse me?! Hermione's the one who stole -"

Ron cut his sister off. "She did nothing of the sort; Harry broke up with you a month before he started dating Hermione -- which is longer than you've waited between boyfriends!"

Ginny shot back, "Don't start with me, and the whole school knows that she's been after him for years!"

"Look who's talking," Ron said. "You shouldn't believe any of that gossip they spread around school, anyway. None of those idiots have a clue what they're talking about."

"And I suppose you do," Ginny responded sarcastically.

"Of course, they're my friends," Ron answered, clearly getting tired of this conversation. "Look, Ginny -- let him go. You got your chance to date the famous Harry Potter just like you've always wanted, now just let him go. He's a good guy, but there's a lot of stuff you don't know about Harry. Hell, Hermione and I are his best friends and we didn't know about it until a couple of months ago. And don't bother asking me what it is, because it's not my place to tell you."

"Could you at least tell me if it's why they got together?" Ginny pleaded.

Ron waited a minute before answering, "Not exactly, but I think it got them started. One other thing: if you're thinking of acting like Hermione now instead of a female version of the Boy Who Lived, forget it. You couldn't copy some of the things she does if you tried."

There was a long pause before Ginny replied: "Where did you get-?"

"Luna told me before she left. She's a very observant girl...and a good kisser too." Harry and Hermione were sure that Ron was smiling when he said that last part.

Sounding remarkably like her mother, Ginny said, "Oh, is she? And who told you that you could go around snogging my friend, Ronald Weasley?"

"Luna did!"

Hermione tugged on Harry's arm and led him back upstairs. They had heard enough, and weren't in the mood to get in the middle of yet another spat between Weasley siblings.

"Well, that was informative," Hermione ventured as they walked into her room. "It seems that neither of you was really being yourself this year."

"What are you on about? I haven't been -" Harry asked defensively.

"Oh yes, you have!" Hermione cut him off. "Just because you've been better lately, doesn't change the way you were acting before. Though I do admit that I didn't understand it until now. I thought that I did, but not really. Then I read that stupid prophecy yesterday and everything fell into place: your emotional distance, your reluctance to get that memory from Slughorn, the obsession with Malfoy -"

Harry sadly muttered, "For all the good it did. Nobody listened until it was too late."

"That was as much our fault as anything," Hermione said, guilt all but rolling off her. "We refused to believe that Voldemort would use a sixteen-year old in his plans, or that Malfoy could be anything but an obnoxious little ferret. Although I could tell that you were right about him being up to something, his being a Death Eater was simply too much for me to fathom."

"Funny, isn't it? You and I can read other people's emotions, but can't tell why they feel the way they do," Harry said, recalling something they'd read the night before.

"Which is one of the biggest shortcomings of this ability. While it can give insight into their character, Empathy doesn't provide knowledge of a person's thoughts or motives," Hermione quoted from the book. "It also doesn't work very well when someone is suppressing their feelings."

Giving and inward groan, Harry tried not to react to her comment. They'd already touched on it last night.

"Don't be that way, Harry. I'm not trying to lecture you...we both know how well that works," Hermione said calmly. "I'm just saying that I couldn't help noticing how you react whenever Sirius -"

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry said, hoping to end this conversation. "It's been over a year, and I've put it behind me."

"Then why do you clamp down on your feelings whenever you hear his name or see a picture of him? Not that I blame you -- we're lucky that your being a little emotionally repressed is the only side effect of how those miserable people you had to live with treated you." Harry felt the flash of anger from Hermione that always happened when she thought about the Dursleys. Calming herself, Hermione went on. "Look Harry...Sirius was your godfather and you loved him, that gives you every right to morn his passing. It isn't healthy for anyone to block out their emotions like this, and it can actually be dangerous for people like us. Without our own feelings to muffle them, everyone else's are able to come through more easily. Especially strong ones like the crush Ginny had on you," Hermione sighed.

"Or the frustration you felt when we argued," Harry quietly added, trying to change the subject.

Hermione said, with a little laugh, "Actually, I think that was from both of us. Even though it isn't apparent on the surface, you and I have quite a bit in common. We're both a bit shy and secretive, hiding our in-securities behind books or Quidditch."

"Not to mention how mad we get when someone refuses to listen to us," Harry said, wrapping an arm around her.

"Oh, most definitely." A small grin appeared on Hermione's lips, and then changed back into the frown she'd been wearing all this time. "All I'm trying to say is that you should at least try to come to terms with losing Sirius before we go to Grimmauld, for your own good. Now that that's said, I found some things after you went to bed -"

"You mean after you kicked me out of here," Harry gave Hermione a rakish smirk.

In the tone she often used when performing her prefect duties Hermione said, "That's what happens when your hands are caught wandering out of bounds without permission. Like they're doing now." She reached down and moved Harry's hand back to her waist, though her stern look didn't hide her amusement from him. "As I was saying, I started piecing together some exercises that might help us learn to control our power better -- if you're interested."

"Well...Mum did tell me that I should learn all I could," Harry said. "So let's see what you got."

Hermione gave him a quick peck on the lips and got up to retrieve the Rare Book and their enchanted parchment from her trunk.

**********

Those things lay forgotten at their feet an hour later, as Harry and Hermione had gotten deeply involved in a very different kind of exercise from the one she'd envisioned. It was doing wonders for their abilities to sense each other's feelings, particularly when it came to certain forms of pleasure they could indulge in.

Right now, Harry's left hand caressed Hermione's side as his right was tangled in her hair. Hermione's hands were currently stroking the back of his neck and lower spine, respectively. Ever so often, one of them would reach out to stop the other when their hands drifted into places they weren't comfortable with. These soon became the exception however, as they became adept at sensing the discomfort of the other. No words were spoken between them; the only communication they needed right now didn't require speech.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. Harry and Hermione eventually settled into a nice post-snog embrace, which ended when they heard someone clear their throat by the door.

"You have a visitor," Ginny told them impassively. "Professor Mcgonagall is waiting for you in the living room."

Hermione jumped off the bed and quickly straightened her clothes. Reassured of her appearance, she dragged Harry away without looking back.

Walking downstairs, they saw Mrs. Weasley go by, levitating a tea set. When she'd moved out of sight they heard: "Thank you Molly. Now, if you don't mind, there's some private business I need to conduct with Harry and Hermione."

"Of course. Come along, Ron, I'm sure -"

"That's okay, Mrs. Weasley. He can stay if he wants," Harry told her evenly as he entered the room.

Those words seemed to settle the matter as far as McGonagall was concerned, although Molly gave them an unpleasant look before she left. Taking their seats, Harry and Hermione saw several packages on the floor next to the professor.

Once they were alone, McGonagall got down to business.

"Mister Potter, Miss Granger, thank you for agreeing to see me. Normally the official matters I wish to discuss with you would be handled by owl, but these are special circumstances. Before we move on to those matters, perhaps we should get the personal ones out of the way."

Harry nodded and let her continue.

"To begin with, you may or may not be aware that Professor Dumbledore had been handling a number of legal issues on your behalf. With his passing and your coming of age, certain legal documents such as your parents' wills and the deed to their house in Godric's Hollow need to be passed into your possession." McGonagall picked up a flat box and handed it to Harry. "If you have any questions, I'm sure Miss Granger will be pleased to help. When you two aren't engaged in...other activities, of course."

The knowing gaze McGonagall gave them made Harry blush. Next to him, Hermione choked on her tea as she also turned red.

Adjusting her glasses, McGonagall stared Ron down. "Don't look at me like that, Mister Weasley. Believe it or not, I was young once myself and had my share of romantic encounters." Turning back to Harry and Hermione she added, "Forgive me if I've embarrassed you two. I just wanted to see if the Daily Prophet had written the truth for a change."

"We're not embarrassed, just a little surprised that you asked," Hermione told her. "Harry and I are dating, but we've haven't taken things as far as Rita Skeeter implied...not yet, anyway."

"Ah, I see. It makes no difference in any event. Teenage romances are as much a part of life at Hogwarts as attending class. The faculty, aside from Mr. Filch, seldom takes action against the couples in question so long as no one is harmed, they don't let it interfere with their studies, and a certain level of discretion is used...." McGonagall put extra emphasis on the word "discretion" and threw a hard look off to her side.

Now it was Ron's turn to look uncomfortable. He had been anything but discreet when dating Lavender Brown, and Harry wouldn't be surprised if they'd gotten a good lecture on the subject.

Hoping to get back on topic, Harry opened the box in his hands and started glancing over the parchment within. "I don't have anything to sign in all of this, do I Professor?" he asked distantly.

"I don't believe so," she told him. "Simply taking the objects, money, or appropriate documents into your possession is usually enough in the case of wizard estates. The complicated part is handled by the executor, who has to track down everyone named in the will. Speaking of which, here are the things Albus wanted you to have." Minerva pointed her wand at the packages beside her, and levitated them over to Harry. Reaching into her robes, she pulled out a slip of parchment. "He also left a message for you."

Taking a deep breath, Harry accepted the note and began to read.

Harry,

If you're reading this, I've gone on to the next great adventure before Tom could be defeated.
Hopefully, I was able to give you the knowledge you'll need to finish the job without me -- and
make up for at least some of the mistakes I've made with you in the process.

Now that I'll no longer have a use for it, there's something of mine I wish you to have. It should
aid you in your endeavor. Also, there's an item that you recovered which I've held in trust for
several years. Now that you've come of age, I believe it is time for it to be returned to you.

Use it well, young Gryffindor.

A.P.W.B.D.

Ron stared at the note over Harry's shoulder. "What the bloody hell is that about? The last part, I mean," he said.

Glancing at his friend, Harry muttered, "One way to find out." Even as he picked up the largest, and heaviest package, he had a good idea what it was....

...And he was right. Tucked carefully in the padded crate was Dumbledore's pensieve, with a solid metal lid clamped across its stone rim. Seeing it again immediately brought back the memories of the hours him and the professor had spent piecing together Voldemort's history. Opening another box reinforced this feeling, for it was filled with bottles labeled "Morfin", "Hokey", and so on.

"These are the ones you saw in your 'special lessons', aren't they? The memories you and Dumbledore collected to piece together Voldemort's history," Hermione whispered in his ear. Harry nodded back.

One long, thin package remained. Beneath the wrappings was a wooden case containing a silver longsword. Huge rubies glittered on the hilt, and the name Godric Gryffindor was proudly engraved on the blade. Next to it was a silvery sheath made to fit the ancient weapon.

Harry gently took the sword from its case. Watching the way the light reflected off its polished surface, he thought about the first time he'd seen and held it. It had felt rather heavy and clumsy when he was a twelve-year-old, but now it rested in his hand as if it belonged there. In a distant part of his mind, he heard Hermione ask about the sword's history.

"I'm afraid I have no idea how the sword came to be in the Sorting Hat," McGonagall explained. "However, I do know that most of the artifacts attributed to the Founders are rumored to be in the hands of their descendants. Gryffindor is a special case, for his line died out during the goblin rebellions...murdered through treachery and deception, by many accounts. At the same time, Godric's few surviving possessions were also destroyed -- except for this one." She pointed to the sword. "Needless to say, many in our world would consider its reappearance in these dark times to be a sign of great importance, and have considerable interest in whoever managed to recover it." Even though she kept her tone neutral, the professor couldn't hide her disdain for "signs" and all other things associated with Divination.

"Yeah," Ron interjected. "They'll be saying only some long-lost heir of Godric Gryffindor could have pulled his sword out of the hat."

"Especially since Riddle puts so much on his being 'The Heir of Slytherin'. Not that it matters. Who you're related to isn't as important as who you are," Harry replied as he put the sword back in its case.

"A very wise attitude, if you ask me. One that makes me feel even better about the other matter I wish to discuss with you," McGonagall said in her normal business-like tone of voice. "Before we move on to that, however, I believe this also belongs to you." She drew a book out of her robes, and held it out to Harry.

He stared at this all-too-familiar copy of Advanced Potion-Making for a time, unsure if he even wanted to touch it again. Finally, Harry took the book and said, "Thank you, Professor. I know just what to do with it."

Without another word, Harry stood up and crossed the room. Reaching the Weasleys' fireplace; he dropped the book in, drew his wand, and cast a loud Incendio charm. Only when the Half-Blood Prince's book had been reduced to a pile of ash did Harry resume his place next to Hermione -- who was beaming at him for permanently getting rid of that particular book.

"Okay, Professor," Harry said brightly. "Now that that's finished, I believe you had some official business you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes, of course." McGonagall, who was also rather pleased with him at the moment, settled back into her normal demeanor. "As you can no doubt guess, Hogwarts is currently in a very precarious position. Not only due to our late headmaster's death, but because of the events surrounding it. It is for this reason that I'm talking to you now.

"Following a long debate and numerous inspections of the castle, the board of governors has decided to reopen Hogwarts this fall. This decision was not made lightly nor is it set in stone. Many things still need to be done before September first. Among these is the filling of a couple of prominent positions in the school." She made a point of singling out Harry and Hermione. "Which is where you two come in."

The young couple looked at each other. Before Harry (or Ron) could open his mouth, Hermione answered for them. "Of course Professor. We're willing to help in any way we can."

"Excellent, I knew I could count on you," McGonagall told her. "Now you should understand how important this is. Parents will have some very deep concerns about sending their children back to Hogwarts after what happened, and we need to alleviate as many of their fears as possible. The two of you are among the most prominent students in your year and you have the respect of many of your classmates. With this in mind, the other teachers and I have decided that you are the best choices for our new Head Boy and Head Girl."

One didn't need any sort of empathic ability to sense Hermione's excitement. Being named as Head Girl was something she'd been working for since their first day at Hogwarts. It was one of the few things she could share with her parents without having to explain its meaning.

Harry, on the other hand, didn't know what to think about this offer. Attending school would get in the way of his Horcrux hunt, and hadn't really taught him anything useful when it came to fighting Voldemort. On the other hand, it would make Hermione happy (which was a good thing -- snogging her was far more fun than arguing) and McGonagall had come all this way to offer him the Head Boy position. Head Boy...that was something he hardly ever gave a thought to, certainly not since....

"Um, Professor...how can I be Head Boy? I'm not even a prefect," he said without thinking.

A smile appeared on Minerva McGonagall's face. "Neither was your father, and he proved to be a very capable Head Boy -- despite his frequent lapses in discipline and the controversy over his appointment. Our new Head Girl at the time was among the most vocal in her opinion of this decision. Just before the welcoming feast, she marched up to Albus and asked him quite bluntly if he'd lost his mind. Then she demanded to know why he had appointed what she called a 'self-centered miscreant' to the job."

"I wish that I could've seen that," Ron said, laughing. "Who was she?'

McGonagall smiled and said, "Lily Evans, or I should say, the future Lily Potter. The whole incident was quite amusing at the time, and became even more so when her and James got married a year later."

With a sigh, the professor brought herself out of the past.

"In any event, I do not have the concerns over your appointment that I felt over your father's. You've grown into a most capable wizard and have earned the respect of both myself and the rest of the faculty. Also, I've heard that quite a few people are very impressed by the reports of your recent battle with the Death Eaters. Some are now claiming that the ones who attacked Hogwarts fled solely because you entered the battle."

Surprised by her statement, Harry shouted, "You can't be serious! The only reason they left the castle was because they finished what they came to do!" He pointed to Ron and Hermione. "And the press has blown the fight we had here so far out of proportion it's ridiculous."

"True, very true. However; it is what people believe, and we may be better off allowing them to do so," McGonagall replied. "Whether or not the accounts of your battles are completely accurate, they have given people a source of hope and inspiration. In times like these, those can be more important than any of the magic at our disposal. Trust me, Harry, trying to dispel these misconceptions would do far more harm than good under the circumstances."

"Is that why you're asking me to do this? Because everyone will think I can keep Hogwarts safe?" Harry already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it with his own ears.

Returning his stare, McGonagall firmly said, "No, even though some of the governors are supporting your appointment for that very reason. I myself have considered you to be a likely candidate for this position for some time, which is why I recommended that you be made a prefect two years ago -- a recommendation that, regrettably, was not followed. No offense, Mister Weasley."

"None taken," Ron replied.

McGonagall gave Ron a nod, then picked up where she had left off with Harry. "Now, I admit to having some doubts after that incident between you and Draco Malfoy, but they were put to rest by your actions during the planning of Professor Dumbledore's funeral. You acted as the voice of Hogwarts' student body in that meeting, and in so doing, proved yourself worthy of becoming Head Boy in the eyes of everyone there."

Harry looked away and thought about what McGonagall had said. Their talk had been unusually open and informal, almost like they were equals. She honestly believed he deserved this job and was worried that he'd turn her down. His gaze wandered to Hermione, who was trying to bury her own feelings deep enough not to affect his judgment. Still, he knew she was fond of McGonagall and it would break her heart to turn her down and though she'd stand by him no matter what Hermione reallywantedtobecome -

"All right," Harry yelled, bringing his babbling thoughts to an abrupt end. "I'll do it."

The relief he felt from McGonagall, and the joy from Hermione, ebbed somewhat when Harry added, "But I need you to agree to a few things first."

"What are they?" McGonagall asked cautiously.

Closing the boxes holding the pensieve and the hard-won memories of Voldemort's past, Harry said, "Take these back to Hogwarts and put them somewhere safe. The information they hold is very valuable, and can't be allowed to fall into the wrong hands."

"Each house has rooms set aside for the Head Boy and Girl's use," Hermione said hurriedly. "Access to them is restricted, so the pensieve should be safe there. That way, we'll still be able to use it if we need to."

"I can also arrange for the cabinet these were held in to be transferred to your new room. Is there anything else?" McGonagall asked.

Harry pondered this for a moment, unsure of how much to tell her. On one hand, it was best not to tell too many people about the Horcruxes; but as the new headmistress, Minerva McGonagall would be vital in hiding their activities.

Choosing his words carefully, he said, "Yes.... There's...something Dumbledore and I were doing before he died, something for the war effort."

"Is this why you two were away from Hogwarts when it was attacked?" McGonagall inquired. She always was a sharp one.

"Yes, and it's vital that I finish what we started. I can't go into details -- not here, not now; but Hermione, Ron, and I will have to leave school from time to time so we can take care if it. We'll try to keep our activities quiet -- in fact, it's best if no one knows when we're away -- but it has to be done. Believe me, I wouldn't be asking this if there was any other way to stop Voldemort."

McGonagall winced at the name. "This is a very unusual request," she said, "but then again, these are very unusual times. Very well, I'll agree to your conditions...provided that we discuss these things more fully when school starts." Harry nodded. "Also, I would like to talk to you about the secret club you ran during your fifth year -"

"You mean Dumbledore's Army," Harry said.

McGonagall nodded. "Yes. In return for granting your requests, I would like you to restart this club -- this time with the full approval and support of the school. Self-defense is a vital skill these days, and the former members of your group have shown a marked improvement on the O.W.L and N.E.W.T. tests they've taken for Defense Against the Dark Arts. It may also make up for some of the activities which will, almost certainly, be canceled for the duration of the war."

Harry looked to his friends for a time, and quietly agreed to his part of the deal.

Professor McGonagall talked with them for some time afterwards about the proposed changes for the new school year and how they might affect their new duties. Canceling Quidditch and Hogsmeade visits was all but assured at this point, and numerous other measures were being considered as they spoke. The board of governors promised to have it worked out before the start of term, at which point Harry and Hermione would be informed by owl.

Before she left, McGonagall's talk turned to the subject of the faculty. Professor Flitwick had taken on the job of deputy headmaster, but no one had yet been chosen to replace McGonagall as head of Gryffindor house. Unfortunately, Slughorn had decided to stay on and had also taken up his old position as head of Slytherin house.

"I am no more fond of him than you are, and would toss him and his 'Slug Club' out in an instant if he gave me the cause to. Unfortunately, he operates completely within the rules and I already have two teaching positions to fill." There was a bitterness in McGonagall's voice that even Ron noticed. "Pardon my outburst. Horace Slughorn is not an evil man, per se...greedy, manipulative, and self-serving perhaps -- but not truly evil. Unfortunately I've seen him hurt far too many people with his schemes to ever trust him. But as I said before, as a new headmistress, I'm not in a position to dismiss him without a very good reason. At the same time, however, I have no way of stopping any students from telling their classmates everything they may know about their Potions professor and his little club."

Checking an old pocket watch, Minerva gathered up her things to leave. As a final gesture, she handed four envelopes to Hermione.

"Here are your Hogwarts letters, along with Miss Weasley's. You will find your new badges inside. The other letters will be sent out on Monday to coincide with the official announcement. Until we meet again, have a good summer and try not to do anything too dangerous." With a flick of her wand, Minerva McGonagall levitated the boxes before her and left the Burrow. It was common courtesy in the magical world not to Apparate or Disapparate within someone else's home, and McGonagall was nothing if not courteous.

When McGonagall had gone, Hermione suddenly wrapped Harry in a bone-crushing hug. "Can you believe this! Mum and Dad will be so proud. I can't wait to tell them...." she said, bouncing with excitement.

"Honey, you're babbling," Harry told her.

"No I'm not." Hermione thumped him on the chest. "I'm just happy! Aren't you?"

"I guess. It'll be hard juggling everything; but then again, Voldemort might start wondering what we're up to if we don't go back," Harry said half to himself. Changing the subject, he asked Ron, "What about you? Are you okay with this?"

Ron quickly joked, "Are you mental? This way I don't have to tell Mum I'm not going back to school! Oh, you mean the Head Boy thing. Nah, it's the last thing I want...I'm not a big enough prat for the job." He gave them a wicked grin more commonly seen on Fred or George and ducked as his friends started to go for their wands.

"You could have fooled us," Ginny told them, coming down the stairs

Harry looked at her. "You heard?"

"How else do I learn anything around here?" Ginny told him sheepishly. Taking a deep breath she added, "Congratulations, to both of you. You deserve it."

She turned to leave, but was stopped by Hermione.

"Ginny, wait." Hermione took a letter out of the pile she was holding. "Here's your Hogwarts letter, McGonagall dropped it off."

"Thanks," Ginny said quietly as she accepted the parchment from Hermione. "By the way, what was with all that stuff McGonagall said about Slughorn?"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione said as calmly as possible, "Professor Slughorn likes to collect and use people to make himself look important, and Harry was his most recent target."

Ginny listened impassively to Harry, Ron and Hermione's explanation of what Slughorn did and what his "club" was really about. When they'd finished, Ginny off-handedly said, "Figures, always knew there was something dodgy about the git," and walked away.

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione before heading upstairs. Both of them had sensed something odd from Ginny. She still wasn't happy about them being together; yet she had carried on a civilized, though tense, conversation with them. This wasn't the Ginny Weasley they had overheard this morning, and they couldn't tell what changed her attitude.

Entering Hermione's room, they got their explanation. Lying open at the top of the bed was the Rare Book of Rare and Unusual Magic with their enchanted parchment, displaying all their notes about the Horcruxes, Voldemort, and Harry and Hermione's particular gift sitting next to it. They had been so distracted earlier that they had forgotten to put them away.

"She knows," Harry said quietly.

All they could do now was hope that Ginny Weasley would keep her new knowledge to herself.

**********

end chapter 12

Lies and Illusions chp. 13
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers.

Author's note: Once again, I need to apologize for a long delay in posting. Fortunately, it will be the last one for this fic because all of the chapters are now finished -- except for formatting and some minor editing.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 13
Intruder at Grimmauld


Once again, Ginny's behavior towards Harry and Hermione changed over the next week. Gone were her furtive glances and moody behavior. Now they could carry on a civilized conversation...unless someone brought up the information Ginny had stumbled across. Then she would make up an excuse and disappear.

Monday was a case in point. Ginny's O.W.L. scores arrived during breakfast. For reasons known only to the Ministry, Luna's results were sent to the Burrow too.

"Come on, she'll never know that we looked at them," Ginny said, referring to Luna. "Besides, it'll cheer me up after seeing mine."

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," Ron said, trying to grab the envelope and missing. "Ravenclaws are known for their brains after all."

"Yeah, right. If Luna's so smart, then why is she interested in you?"

Hermione, sitting in her usual place next to Harry, came to Ron's defense. "That wasn't very nice, Ginny. I'm sure that she has her reasons...whatever they are." She added the last part just loud enough to be heard. "I don't know what you're complaining about. Five O.W.L.s is about average from what I've read."

"Says the girl who aced every one of her exams," said Ginny under her breath.

"Hardly," Hermione said shyly. "I messed up on my Defense practical and it lowered my grade...stupid boggart. Anyway, being disappointed with your marks doesn't give you the right to open someone else's post without their permission."

"I'll just tell Luna that I had to wrestle it away from a parchment-eating something or other, and she'll never know the difference," Ginny said in a dismissive tone as she tore open the envelope. Her confident air soon vanished as she read Luna's scores. "Nine.... The girl is completely insane, so how the hell did she manage to get NINE BLOODY O.W.L.S?!"

Harry choked back a laugh -- unlike Ron, who fell out of his chair. Rising from her seat, Hermione snatched the parchment out of Ginny's hand. After she'd read the document, Hermione looked at Harry with the most astonished expression on her face.

Harry said quietly, "I guess you really can't judge a book by its cover."

Hermione flashed him an annoyed glare, but softened her expression when she realized that he was just teasing her. Stuffing the parchment back in its envelope Hermione asked Harry a silent question. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, and she started to say, "Ginny, we need to.... Ginny?"

But Hermione was addressing an empty chair. Ginny had slipped away while their backs were turned.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Professor McGonagall and the board of governors were announcing the reopening of Hogwarts. Naturally it caused quite a stir in the magical community and before the day was half done, muckrakers like Rita Skeeter were already hard at work combing the sewers for people's reactions to the news. Fortunately for Harry and Hermione's peace of mind, Bill had had the foresight the month before to set up his security charms in a way that kept both the unwanted owls and obnoxious reporters at bay.

"Too bad he didn't put Percy on his 'keep away' list," Ron whispered in Harry's ear during dinner, earning a small chuckle. Percy had come by after work to drop off his mother's finally-repaired clock, and she wasn't about to let him leave without being fed first. That meant that they all had to listen to him prattle on about the Ministry.

"...Work has been busy, of course, and Hogwarts' reopening has only made it worse. The office was swarmed with owls today, people are worried about You-Know-Who mounting another attack on the school. Hopefully, the special Auror squad the Minister will be assigning tomorrow will calm everyone -"

"So," Harry interrupted, "Scrimgeour wants the Aurors to guard Hogwarts now. Just how many of them are there?"

Percy looked uncomfortable at Harry's question. "Well, I'm...ahem...not at liberty to discuss that, Harry. Be assured that rumors you may have heard about them being overworked or stretched too thin are completely unfounded. They're an invaluable deterrent to...." Percy went on for some time, but Harry had heard it all before. Excusing himself from the table, he went upstairs to think.

To be honest, Harry hadn't trusted the Ministry of Magic for a long time. How could he when they would put him on trial one year (rewriting the laws as they went) and then tried to recruit him as their poster boy the next? Lately, though, he had begun to have doubts about becoming an Auror too. Not because it was dangerous, he just didn't know if he wanted to work for such a fickle and corrupt organization.

Hermione all but laughed when Harry talked with her the next day, saying that she knew this would happen. When he teasingly asked if she'd secretly taken up Divination, Hermione answered, "No, but I know you. You wanted to become an Auror because it sounded like an exciting, noble profession. But now that you've seen how the Ministry really works, you're having second thoughts. Believe me, it happens to all of us." She paused briefly. "Perhaps it's just one of those things that simply isn't meant to be."

A wave of despair flowed over Harry that had nothing to do with their conversation. "What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked.

"Nothing, I'm just...." Hermione took one look at him and then slumped in her seat. "Oh, who am I kidding? I have about as much chance of hiding my feelings from you as you do from me." She sighed. "Did I ever tell you how Slughorn convinced me to join his club?"

Harry shook his head.

"Promise not to laugh, but he told me that he'd heard about my campaign to free the house elves and knew some people who could help. Silly me, I should have known better." Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest and said, "It's bad enough that no one takes S.P.E.W. seriously, but having that idiot use it to manipulate me for his own purposes hurts more than you can believe."

Sitting down next to her, Harry gathered Hermione in his arms. She had put so much passion and energy into S.P.E.W., weathered a sea of apathy and ridicule over it, yet she was no closer to her goal than when she started. It was no secret that her crusade to help the house elves meant a lot to her, but this was the first time Harry had seen Hermione despair over her lack of progress.

"So what are you going to do?" Harry asked her gently. "And don't say 'give up', because that's not the Hermione Granger I know and love."

Hermione smiled into the damp spot on Harry's shirt. "Perhaps, but it doesn't change anything. Why can't anyone else see how wrong it is to enslave another race, Harry?" She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. "The house elves may not be human, but they are just as intelligent and feeling as you or I. So how can anyone possibly justify treating them as nothing more than property? They can't! But instead of fixing the problem, wizards just...Harry, what are you smiling at?"

"You're beautiful when you get excited. Your eyes just light up, your cheeks get all flushed, and then there's the way your brea -- ow, that hurt." Harry rubbed his arm where she'd just whacked him.

"How many times must I tell you: No flirting while we're discussing serious matters!" Hermione gave Harry an annoyed glare. "Honestly, when did you become such a lecher? Always ogling some poor girl's body."

Grinning widely, Harry said, "Nope, only yours."

Hermione bit her lip, blushing furiously. "Good answer," she finally said. "Be sure to keep it that way, or you'll never get to explore the more interesting parts. Now, what was I saying? You distracted me again."

"You were going on about how wizards don't want to change their attitudes towards other beings," Harry supplied, stroking Hermione's hair. "See, I listen."

"Of course you do. Thanks, by the way." Hermione paused to collect herself. "Tell me the truth, Harry...is it me? Am I just a bossy little know-it-all who likes telling everyone else how to live?"

Someday Harry would have to learn not to look into Hermione's eyes when she got like this. The torrent of emotions pouring through them always left him tongue-tied. Even though he moreorless understood why it happened now, that knowledge did little to counter the effect.

Eventually he stammered, "No, I think you're a very caring, perceptive girl who wants to do the right thing. It's just that you can get a bit carried away sometimes, and don't always pick the best way to go about doing things...." Harry stopped himself. In his experience, Hermione didn't take criticism very well. But that could simply be because it was Ron who was usually criticizing her.

Several uncomfortable beats passed before Hermione took a breath and said, "Maybe, but how...."

They were interrupted by Ron opening the door with one hand while levitating the boxes full of intelligence on the Death Eaters with the other. "Sorry to interrupt, Hermione, but we have work to do." He looked in Harry's direction. "Do you know how weird that sounds?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were indeed very busy that week. Thanks to the information they'd brought back from Godric's Hollow, they finally had a place to look for a Horcrux. But Grimmauld wasn't like the Potters' old house, and they couldn't afford to go there blindly.

Given his choice; Harry would just go in, check Kreacher's old den, and then leave -- with or without the Horcrux. His friends quickly vetoed that idea, however. Ron was dead set against bringing a piece of Voldemort's soul back to his home under any conditions. Hermione took a more diplomatic route: telling Harry that even if the Horcrux wasn't in the manor, that there might be other information worth gathering. Eventually they settled on a compromise: They would take only a few critical items with them but leave the rest of their stuff packed in their school trunks. Then, if they actually found Slytherin's locket, Hermione would magically transport their things to Grimmauld Place (now that she'd found the spell to do it). Otherwise, they would simply return to the Burrow to figure out their next move.

With that out of the way, and out of sheer curiosity, Harry decided to take a closer look at Gryffindor's sword. Hermione jumped at the chance to examine a piece of wizard history like this, but Ron was a little uneasy with the idea. The sword was such a part of wizard history and folklore that he felt that it was almost sacrilege (though he had never heard of the word) to question its nature.

Much to his astonishment, however, they found only a handful of enchantments on the sword: a self-honing charm that kept it razor sharp and a spell that protected it from the elements, plus the soft silver of the blade had been transfigured to be harder than tempered steel. It was a magical weapon to be sure, able to pierce dragon hide if the wielder was strong enough, but it didn't have any extraordinary powers as far as they could tell.

"I don't get it," Ron said. "Gryffindor was one of the greatest wizards ever, and people have been talking about this sword and its powers for ages. There has to be more to it than this."

Harry slowly answered, thinking out loud, "Unless it was never the sword that was special, but the people who owned it." He ran a finger over Godric's name.

"That could be," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Enchanted weapons are very rare and valuable, so I doubt if Gryffindor's descendants would have passed his sword down to just anybody. The method of selecting a new owner was probably a secret known only to his family. Naturally, some of the owners wouldn't have measured up to certain people's idea of what a 'proper' witch or wizard should be. Then, when they went on to do some great deed...."

"They rationalized their attitude by saying that the sword was somehow responsible for what they did. The story got around and grew over time...specially after Gryffindor's family was killed off and the sword disappeared," Harry finished for her.

Hermione grinned. "That's my theory, at any rate. Not that there's any way to prove it."

"Guys, have I ever told you how creepy it is when one of you finishes what the other was saying?" Ron asked blithely.

"Yes," Harry and Hermione answered together.

"Just checking."

While the trio spent their days getting ready to go Grimmauld, Harry spent his evenings reading his mother's diary. Some of the entries had interesting little bits of information like the fact that, while the house and land had been in his mother's family for generations, the garden behind his parents' home had been planted by Harry's paternal grandmother as a wedding present. Others talked about things he really couldn't care less about, like why his Aunt Petunia acted the way she did...though he did find the account of his mother's first (and only) meeting with her future brother-in-law funny. Lily had loathed Vernon on the spot -- and made a point of telling Petunia exactly what she thought of him. Needless to say, Lily wasn't invited to her sister's wedding.

But the entries that most interested Harry were the ones that told him how his parents had gotten together.

Although there were certain parallels between them, James Potter and Lily Evans had been very different people than Harry and Hermione were. Lily was far more confident and outgoing than Hermione, while James (as his friends would later say) had to get his head deflated before his future wife would say more than two words to him.

The story of how they got together started near the end of their sixth year, right after James had saved Severus Snape's worthless life. That was when James Potter had begun to act more responsibility. Not that Lily noticed at first. Even when she did, it still took James awhile to convince her that it wasn't some kind of trick...which was why she'd so vocally opposed James being named Head Boy.

He eventually succeeded, of course, and just in time for him to ask her to accompany him on the first Hogsmeade trip of their seventh year. Even after this first date (something that, oddly enough, Harry and Hermione had yet to go on), it still took over a month for James and Lily to become a serious couple. Once that happened, however, their relationship took off -- culminating with James' marriage proposal, written in the sky above the Quidditch pitch after his last match at Hogwarts that following spring.

Not all of the things Harry found in his mother's diary were as pleasant though. One entry in particular haunted him:


April 12, 1980 -- We almost lost Sirius again last night. I swear, if the man doesn't learn to stop taunting the Death Eaters and just fight them, he's not going to live long enough to welcome his godchild into the world. James and I have both talked to Sirius about this more times than we can count, but everything we say seems to go in one ear and right out the other. I worry about him, though not as much as my husband. James has barely come to terms with his parents passing away last year, and I'd hate to think about how losing Sirius would affect him.


Since he'd agreed to return to Hogwarts, Harry felt as if time was once again playing tricks on him. Whereas July had gone by at a snail's pace, the first week of August seemed to fly. They had to get a move on if they were to have any chance of finding Slytherin's locket before the start of school. And if they needed a reminder of how much they needed to find the Horcruxes, the Daily Prophet reported a string of dementor attacks just east of Stirling that week, right on the rail line used by the Hogwarts Express, according to Hermione. Clearly, the lull they had been enjoying in the war was coming to an end.

**********

Ten days after their trip to Godric's Hollow, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves standing outside the battered door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Unfortunately, it hadn't changed very much from the first time Harry had seen it. It was still just as dark and gloomy as ever.

The three of them approached the house carefully -- far more carefully than they had the Potters’ house. Even when it served as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, Grimmauld had been filled with all kinds of nasty surprises. Now that it had been abandoned again, there was no telling what would be found inside. A quick check of the house showed that most of the protections were still working. The only exception was the Fidelius Charm that Dumbledore had placed on it -- which, while still there, appeared to be inactive at this time.

It was a hard thing for Harry to come back here, far harder than visiting Godric's Hollow. Although he loved his parents, Harry had so few memories of them that it was hard for him to truly miss them. But Sirius was different. Once, Harry had seen his godfather as the answer to his prayers -- someone who would give him a real home and fill the hole in his life left by his parents' deaths. That dream had been put on indefinite hold when Wormtail escaped, and then crushed forever in the Department of Mysteries.

Since his godfather’s death, Harry had told himself over and over that Sirius wouldn't have wanted him to grieve over his passing. Now, standing on the walk outside the Blacks' ancestral home, those words rang hollow in Harry's heart. In their place came the words Hermione had said to him last week, "Sirius was your godfather and you loved him, that gives you every right to mourn his passing." If only it were that easy....

Summoning up his nerve, Harry stepped up to the battered front door and tapped it with his wand. Technically, the house still belonged to him (even though Harry had given it to Dumbledore to serve as the Order's headquarters) but it seemed to resist letting him in. When he tried casting an Alohomora charm on the door, the lock gave way with a reluctant click at first, only to quickly lock itself again. Harry exchanged a glance with his friends and tried again -- leaning his weight against the door so it wouldn't have time to re-lock itself. It almost worked, with the door getting jammed half-open. Ron came to Harry's assistance by kicking the door open the rest of the way. Unfortunately, the noise woke something up.

"Filth! Mongrels! How dare you intrude on our -"

Flicking his wand, Harry closed the moth-eaten curtains over the portrait of Sirius' mother. Still hearing her muffled voice, he cast a silencing charm on them for good measure. Somewhere in the house, they heard a chair fall over.

Ron looked around nervously. "Guys, I have a really bad feeling about this."

"You're not the only one," Harry replied, feeling an unpleasant tingling on his wrist. Flipping his watch open, he examined the portable Foe-Glass. For the first time since he'd received it, there was a distinct figure in the magical mirror. It wasn't clear enough to recognize, but someone unfriendly was way too close for comfort. The three hands with their names on them were now pointing to the eleven o'clock position, which was marked "Imminent Danger".

Switching to his take charge voice, Harry told his friends, "Wands out, stay alert, and don't wander off until we're sure the house is safe. Well...as safe as it gets."

The three of them cautiously started to search the house -- Harry first, with Hermione in the middle (so she was close to either of her friends if anything happened), and Ron bringing up the rear. As they moved, Harry kept an eye on the Foe-Glass: using the sharpness of the image to tell when they were getting closer to their quarry.

There was something very wrong about the house, and not just the fact that it still reeked of the Dark Arts. Grimmauld was supposed to be deserted, but Harry wasn't so sure about that. The simple fact that he had to practically break down the front door was enough to make him suspicious. It might be nothing...Mundungus Fletcher might be using the place to hide his stolen goods again...but when combined with Harry's earlier trepidation about coming there, it was making him jumpy.

As a precaution, Hermione quietly sealed the front and back doors with the Colloportus spell before they went down to the basement. Entering the kitchen, they found the source of the noise they'd heard. An overturned chair next to the table, next to a half-eaten sandwich and glass of juice.

With a series of hand gestures, Harry told Hermione and Ron to cover him. Her eyes scanning the room, Hermione mouthed, "Do you feel that?" Harry nodded back. There was a presence in the room, and they were getting close to it. Looking at the Foe-Glass made him do a double-take, for the person in it was now recognizable.

"That son-of-a...," he gasped.

Reaching for the pantry door, Harry was hit in the face by it when a hooded figure burst out. Dazed by the sudden assault, Harry barely registered that the intruder was running at Hermione. Her shield coat easily blocked the curse he cast, but did nothing to stop the wizard from physically knocking her out of his way. Ron moved to block the fugitive's escape, but wasn't fast enough to prevent him from disappearing up the narrow staircase.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry asked worriedly as he helped her up.

She gave him a weak smile, rubbing her butt. "Nothing hurt except my pride."

"Hurry up you two," Ron yelled. "He's getting away!"

The trio ran back up the stairs in hot pursuit. It didn't take long for their quarry to come into view again, now trying to force the front door open. Alerted by their footsteps, he quickly darted into another room.

"Follow him!" Harry ordered, stopping just long enough to pull his invisiblity cloak out of his backpack. "I'll go around back and cut the bastard off."

Though Ron had longer legs, Harry was the fastest runner of the trio. It took him only a few seconds to run through the house and put himself between the dark figure and the back door.

Hearing the racket of flying spells and running feet quickly coming in his direction, Harry threw on the cloak and positioned himself to block the exit. A few minutes passed before his target suddenly burst into view, franticly dodging Ron and Hermione's spells. Spinning away from the battle, the wizard promptly ran face-first into Harry's Impediment Jinx. Hermione appeared a second later and subdued the intruder with a stunning spell.

Cautiously approaching the crumpled heap on the the floor, Harry kicked his uninvited guest's wand over to Ron. Satisfied that the threat was neutralized, Harry rolled the figure onto his back and pulled off the hood -- revealing the pale, bloodied face of Draco Malfoy.

Of all the.... The very thought of Malfoy defiling Sirius' home was enough to make Harry see red. All thoughts of wands and magic left his mind as he drew back a fist.

Draco would never appreciate how lucky he was that Ron and Hermione were there. They were the only ones who could stop Harry from beating the crap out of their long-time enemy. Until they got some answers, that is.


**********

"Ennervate!"

Malfoy immediately came to life, struggling against his bonds.

"Forget it, Malfoy," Harry said coldly. "The ropes are magical, and the chair is unbreakable and quite firmly attached to the floor."

"Potter! What the hell are you doing here, and how the fuck did you get in?" Malfoy spat back.

With a humorless smile, Harry replied, "Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. What are you doing in my house?"

"Your house? For your information, this place has been in my mother's family for -"

Harry cut him off. "I know all about your mother's family, Malfoy. There isn't a single decent witch or wizard in the lot that they didn't disown. Again: Why are you here?"

"Piss off!"

Harry and Ron each took an angry step toward Malfoy.

"Stop it, you two." Hermione grasped Harry's shoulder, stepping between the three boys. "This is getting us nowhere. Now, Malfoy, you'd better start answering our questions. Otherwise we'll just ship you off to the Ministry and let them take care of you."

Malfoy answered her with a snort. "If that's supposed to be a threat, Granger, you'll have to do a lot better. I've got real wizards chasing after me, and not those pathetic Aurors," he finished under his breath.

Though he probably was meant to hear it, that last statement stuck in Harry's mind. Beneath all his bravado, Malfoy was scared out of his mind, and Harry was sure that being caught by him and friends had nothing to do with it. Looking over at Hermione, he saw that she was having similar thoughts.

"So," Hermione carefully said to Malfoy, "you're on the run, and not just from the Ministry. Now why would you be doing that?"

Ron chimed in, "He probably didn't kiss Voldemort's arse to his satisfaction." Malfoy flinched at the name. "Maybe we should ask why old Draco here didn't just go crying home to his mummy. Course, his auntie Bellatrix would've been disappoint-"

"SHUT UP!" Malfoy screamed. "Don't you ever mention that crazy bitch around me again!"

Silence followed Malfoy's outburst. The rage Harry and Hermione felt from him went right through the roof when Bellatrix Lestrange was mentioned. Not that Harry cared. After everything Draco Malfoy had done over the past year, Harry figured that he deserved whatever he got. More worrisome was how he'd landed up in a place where the trio had hoped to find one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Harry stopped pacing and leaned over his longtime enemy. "I'm tired of fencing with you, Malfoy. Now tell us how you got here, before I decide to turn you into a ferret again and feed you to one of Hagrid's hippogriffs!"

Cold grey ones stared into Harry's intense green ones, as if trying to tell whether his was a serious threat or not. The battle of wills lasted less than a minute before Draco broke.

"My mother made a portkey that brought me here. Took her forever to make it work too, some kind of spell kept stopping her from remembering where it was," Malfoy said, trying to catch his breath.

Backing away, Harry asked, "When did she do this, and why here?"

Malfoy tried to shrug, but was still restrained by the ropes. "Back in June, about a week after I left Hogwarts. I already told you why: this was her family's ancestral home...I guess she thought it would be a safe place to hide."

"Lovely...so where is your mum?" Ron asked bluntly.

Malfoy turned his head and refused to answer.

"Well? Ron asked you a question," Harry prodded, but got no response.

Feeling Hermione tug on his arm, Harry let her draw him over to a corner where they and Ron could talk.

Ron asked, "What do you think?"

"He hates our guts as much as ever, but now he hates his aunt even more. Why, I have no idea," Harry whispered back.

Hermione quietly added, "Malfoy is also very upset about his mother, there was a jolt of pain from him whenever she was mentioned."

"Really?" Harry asked her. "I didn't notice that."

"Probably because you were too busy wanting to beat his face in, Harry. Those kinds of feelings tend to get in the way of things," Hermione said patiently.

Ron raised his hands to stop her. "Is that it? I though you two could - "

"It doesn't work that way, Ron," Hermione said, waving for him to lower his voice. "The impressions we get can be very subjective, and all the animosity in this room makes it hard to sort out the nuances."

"EXCUSE ME!" Malfoy yelled from across the room. "If you're finished talking, perhaps you can let me out of here!"

Ron was the first to respond. "After what you've done? Don't make me laugh!"

"You're not going anywhere, Malfoy," Harry added as he led his friends through the door. "While you were out we got this room all ready for you."

He pointed to the other door of the room. "The bathroom's through there. Everything is unbreakable, Hermione has cast an anti-apparition charm on the room just in case the house wards wouldn't stop you, and all the exits will be magically locked once we close this door. Don't worry about food, we'll take care of that." Harry tried to smile, but it came out more like a sneer. "Enjoy your stay."

Harry loosened the ropes holding Malfoy with a casual flick of his wand. Before their prisoner could untangle himself, Ron slammed the door shut and Hermione sealed it with the Colloportus charm.

**********

The worst of his rage eventually burned itself out, leaving Harry feeling physically and emotionally exhausted. Before he could get any rest, though, he had to write a letter to Remus and Tonks so they could come and pick up Malfoy.

Somehow during his search for writing supplies, which he'd neglected to bring along, Harry had landed up in Sirius' old room. Like the rest of the house, it was a depressing place. Once-bright scarlet and gold trim (chosen by Sirius in defiance of his very pro-Slytherin family, no doubt) was now faded and dingy. Finding the things he needed, Harry wrote the short, cryptic note that was now sitting on Sirius' old desk.

Later, he didn't know how much later, Harry was awakened from his fitful dozing by a knock on the door. "Come in," he said.

Hermione entered the room with Hedwig perched on her arm, and wearing her dragon-hide gloves. The snowy owl flew over to Harry as Crookshanks scampered in behind Hermione.

Stroking his owl's feathers, and receiving an affectionate nip in return, Harry said, "I see you made it okay, Hedwig. Are you up for a trip?" Hedwig hooted and stretched her wings as he retrieved the letter. "Good. I need you to take this to Remus and Tonks as quickly as possible. Only them, no one else." The moment Harry had tied the note to her leg, Hedwig was out the window.

"That was fast," he murmured.

"What do you expect? She hasn't had much to do this summer, except for taking a couple of letters to my parents." Hermione sat next to Harry, but Crookshanks didn't jump up when she patted her lap. Instead, he sat on the floor watching her and making unpleasant sounds. "So how are you doing, Harry?"

Harry took a breath. "Fine, I guess. Though Malfoy was the last thing I expected, or wanted, to find here." Another pause. "I really did want to kill him."

"I know," Hermione said sadly. "Considering everything he did...helping the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, trying to kill Professor Dumbledore, almost killing Ron and Katie Bell in the process.... We have plenty of reasons to want to see Draco Malfoy dead. Nevertheless, I'm glad you chose not to." Hermione leaned over a placed a soft, lingering kiss on Harry's cheek. "He isn't worth it."

Hearing a feline growl at their feet, Harry looked down at his girlfriend's familiar.

"What's with Crookshanks?" he asked Hermione. "I haven't seen him act like this since we left the Dursleys."

She replied with an odd mix of pride, fear, and at least a dozen other emotions. "While you were resting, Ron and I decided to get some work done. Along with transporting our things here and finding a place to sleep, we checked Kreacher's old room. Before you get mad at us, take a look at this...." Hermione opened her gloved hand to show him the heavy gold locket they'd found. It had been months since Harry had last seen it in Dumbledore's pensieve, but he had no doubt that this was indeed the locket of Salazar Slytherin.

"You...you shouldn't have done that without me, Hermione," Harry stammered. "One of you could have gotten hurt, or worse."

Hermione clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Give me a little credit, Harry. I may not be as good at Defense Against the Dark Arts as you are, but I can still take care of myself. Besides, we all handled it before and no one got hurt." Coiling up its chain, she set the locket on the desk. "Just to be on the safe side, though, Ron is trying to conjure a box to store it in. When he's done, we'll lock it up with Malfoy's wand."

"Why is it getting so hard for me to stay mad at you?" Harry asked wearily.

"Because you love me, and have a habit of sympathizing with good people," she teased. Dropping her crooked smile, Hermione pulled something out of her pocket. "We found something else in Kreacher's den. It's magical, but doesn't look like a Black family treasure. I was wondering if you might know what it is."

Harry took the object in his hands with a sense of foreboding. It didn't look like much, just a small hand mirror, but looking at his reflection in it was enough to make Harry's hand start to shake.

"Sirius...."

For more than a year, Harry had told himself that he was over losing Sirius. Now though, that illusion was crumbling before his eyes along with the wall he'd placed around the feelings he had for his late godfather. It hurt, even more than it had right after Sirius was killed. The pain was so overwhelming that Harry couldn't even feel Hermione's presence anymore, or her soft hand on his arm.

"What is it, Harry?" He could barely hear Hermione's words, or feel the way she was shaking him. "Harry, please talk to me."

Barely able to speak, Harry whispered, "It...it belonged to Sirius. Dad and him used them at school and...and he gave me another one the last...last time we were...the last time...."

The mirror slipped out of his hands, landing face-up on the floor at Harry's feet.

"Why did he have to die, Hermione? Why was he so stupid?!" Anger started to creep into Harry's voice, along with his pain and loss. "Mum and Dad warned him, over and over, to take his fighting more seriously...why didn't he listen to them?"

Hermione didn't have an answer for him. All she could do was take Harry in her arms as he started to cry.

"I thought I was going to save him," Harry murmured. "I just wanted to save him...."

"It wasn't your fault, Harry. You did the only thing you could given what we knew at the time." One look at his face made Hermione stop herself. Even now, Harry was trying to bottle his feelings back up. Mentally cursing the Dursleys for the hundredth time, she drew Harry closer and let him rest his head on her shoulder. Trying to keep her own tears from falling, Hermione softly whispered, "That's okay, Harry, let it out. You've carried this pain for far too long, now just let it out."

With those words, the last of Harry's barriers crumbled into dust. Everything from that night in the Ministry of Magic -- Ron being attacked by those brain-things, Sirius falling, the horrible, paralyzing feeling he felt when Hermione was hurt -- it all came pouring out. Unable to stop it, Harry sat limply in Hermione's arms and cried.

Neither Harry nor Hermione looked up when Ron barged in on them, looking rather pleased with himself. He took a flat box out from under his arm and started to say, "This should do, I thin - " Ron stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing them. Pointing at Harry, he quietly asked, "Is he okay?"

Hermione slowly shook her head.

Bowing his head, Ron said, "Right, I'll...I'll take care of this so you two can be alone." He put the Horcrux in its new case and turned to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hermione asked unsteadily.

Refusing to look at her, Ron replied, "Well, you're already here and are loads better at this sort of thing than I am. I'd just get in the way."

Hermione glared at Ron through her tears. "Don't be stupid, Ron. You're like a brother to him. Yes, I'm here because I love him and he needs me...but can't you see that he needs you too?!"

After she stopped talking, Ron finally turned to look at his friends. Hermione had rested her head on top of Harry's, and was gently rocking him back and forth. Hell, Ron was willing to bet that Harry didn't even know he was there. So what difference would it make if he decided to leave instead of trying to help his friend through his grief? After all, it wasn't the sort of thing guys did for each other.

In the end, though, Ron couldn't just walk away. Instead, he set the box containing the Horcrux on Sirius' old desk and went over to the bed. Sitting down opposite Hermione, he wrapped one of his long arms around his friends. Between them sat Harry, finally grieving for Sirius Black.

**********
end chapter 13

Lies and Illusions chapter 14
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. This is a work of fanfiction, and no profit is being made from it.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 14:
From the Ashes


Hermione kept a close eye on Harry for the next few days, just in case he had another episode like the one in Sirius' old bedroom. So far, he seemed to be doing okay. Some of the sadness and guilt he'd had was still lingering, but that was only natural. At least the emotional wall she'd sensed inside Harry didn't seem to be there any more...something that Hermione was very grateful for.

For his part, Harry felt that he was getting better. The pain he felt over losing Sirius would take time to fade, but at least he could now recall the happier memories he had of him. He even found the strength to dig the pieces of the other mirror out of his trunk. A Reparo charm managed to fix it, albeit at a lot slower rate than it would a normal mirror. Once it was back together, Harry ran a quick test to see if they still worked before putting them away. Harry knew who he could give Sirius' mirror to, but that would have to wait.

The trio settled into a routine while they waited for Remus and Tonks to come. Three times a day, two of them went to check on Malfoy, one person entering his room while the other stood by the door and covered them with their wand. At no time did they take a wand into the makeshift cell. Of course, Malfoy couldn't let it pass without comment.

"What's the matter, Potter?" he asked one time Harry and Hermione handled the chore. "You afraid of me?"

Before Harry could open his mouth, Hermione said, "Afraid, no. Cautious, yes," she coldly told him. "We underestimated you once, Draco Malfoy...never again."

Aside from tending their prisoner and keeping part of the Black house at least marginally habitable, Harry, Hermione, and Ron spent the following days trying to open Slytherin's locket. Unfortunately, this had always been the weakest part of their plans. Professor Dumbledore never told Harry how he'd dealt with Marvolo Gaunt's ring, and they didn't have a basilisk fang like the one Harry had used to destroy Tom Riddle's diary lying around. Considering how powerful and complex the Dark magic that held the piece of Voldemort's soul within the locket was, breaking it wasn't going to be easy.

Once again, the trio was hitting the books. Looking for information about Horcruxes would be a waste of time, but some of the Defense Against the Dark Arts books Harry had gotten from Sirius and Remus the Christmas before last did mention ways of handling cursed objects. Among these they found a handful of charms designed to remove enchantments, none of which had any effect on the locket.

"Who'd think it was this hard to un-enchant something?" Harry said Friday evening as he washed the dishes. It had been Hermione's turn to cook today, so the guys were cleaning up.

Ron answered from across the room, "Once something is enchanted, most folks prefer to keep it that way. According to Dad, the Ministry has entire rooms filled with junk they've confiscated. There's also a lot of money to be made in the buying and selling of such things, which is why no one's willing to close places like that shop in Knockturn Alley."

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, making Hermione look up. She'd been reading the Rare Book from cover to cover in her spare time. Along the way she'd learned all kinds of interesting stuff about Metamorphmagi, Animagi, Legilimency, and Occlumency to name a few. Currently, she was reading about the Mirror of Erised in the Unique Magical Artifacts section.

"Could that...?" she asked.

"If so, it's about time they showed up," Harry said, putting the dishes aside while Hermione sent the book back to her trunk. He then led the way to the entry hall.

Harry smiled when he saw a welcomed sight through the peep-hole.

"I was beginning to think you hadn't gotten my message," he said to Remus. An insulted hoot made Harry add, "I know that you would never let that happen, Hedwig."

"That's it? You're not going ask us to prove that we're really us?" Tonks asked. She came through the door and promptly collided with the Blacks' hideous excuse for an umbrella stand.

Watching the young Auror pick herself up off the floor, Harry said dryly, "I'd say its you. So what took you two so long?"

"Work has been really busy this week," Tonks explained. "I've been given a new assignment. Very hush-hush, so I can't say any more." She looked around. "We're happy to see you, though I can't imagine why you chose to come to this place again."

"It's a long story," Hermione said, welcoming both Remus and Tonks with quick hugs. "Just after we arrived, we found something we didn't expect -" Ron smothered a cough. "Given what he's done, we decided to call our favorite Auror for help."

Remus looked at them intently. "He?"

"We have Draco Malfoy locked in a room upstairs," Harry said simply. He then explained how they caught Malfoy, and related what little information they'd gotten from him.

Lupin's face was unreadable, but anger and suspicion were swirling beneath his impassive exterior. Tonks was more open in her reaction, clenching her fists and swearing under her breath. "Do you think that his reaction to Lestrange's name was genuine?" she asked stiffly.

It was Hermione who answered. "If you're asking if he might be play-acting, the answer is no. We could tell that much." Of course, she didn't say how she and Harry could know that. "Why? Do you know something?"

"Maybe," Tonks said distantly. "But I should have a word with the little berk before I say anything. Where did you put him?"

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione before telling Tonks which room Malfoy was in. She nodded and, gripping her wand tightly, went upstairs -- leaving the teens alone with Remus.

Returning to the kitchen, the teens could feel Remus Lupin's gaze on them. Exchanging another look with Hermione told Harry that she had sensed the same thing he had. Remus wanted to have another talk with them, and something told Harry that it was going to be a very different conversation than the one they had a month ago....

"Okay you lot, what are you up to?" Remus asked when they sat down.

No one answered him until Hermione carefully responded, "Why would you think we're up to something?"

"Because I was friends with James and Sirius for far too long not to know when a scheme is afoot," Remus said evenly. "I saw the way you acted during our talk at the Burrow. You already knew, or suspected, a lot of what I told you -- especially about what Snape was doing to the Order. People know that Harry was meeting Albus in private...but I'm sure that wasn't among the things he discussed. Then we have the tactics you used against the Death Eaters last month. There's no way you learned to fight like that in Defense Against the Dark Arts, or anywhere else in the magical world. Now I find you here, in a place that I was sure you'd never return to, and can't help but wonder why."

The teens squirmed in their seats. Secrecy was a vital part of their plans, yet it was impossible to completely hide what they were doing from those close to them. What's more, unlike the late Professor Dumbledore, Harry didn't have the absolute trust needed to simply blow off these kinds of questions.

Feeling a tug on his arm, Harry looked over at Hermione.

"Excuse us for a minute, Remus," she said, drawing the two boys over to the far side of the room. Once out of earshot, Hermione whispered to Harry, "Maybe we should tell him."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "Have you gone mental? We're supposed to be keeping this a secret, so why do you suddenly want to tell everyone what we're doing?"

"I'm not saying we should tell everybody, just a handful people we really trust," Hermione stridently corrected him. Turning to Harry, she said, "We've been working on the locket all week and are running out of ideas. So perhaps we should consider asking for some help. Remus might know someone who's more familiar with charms, curses, and how to break them."

A though dawned on Harry. Breaking curses...curse breaking...curse breaker.... Of course, why hadn't he thought of it before!

"What are you smiling about? I'm trying to...mmmph." Hermione couldn't complete her statement because Harry suddenly pulled her close, and kissed her soundly.

Ron muttered, "Will you two get a room?"

Pulling away from a slightly dazed Hermione, Harry told her, "You're a genius." He turned to Lupin, but was interrupted by the sound of Tonks clambering down the stairs.

"Remus, can you make a trip with me tomorrow? There's something I'd like to check before the meeting. I suppose we'll need to tell Mad-Eye that we've got Malfoy before then too," she hurriedly said. "Are you okay, Hermione? You look a bit flushed," Tonks asked, puzzled by the scene before her.

"Fine," Hermione stammered, trying to catch her breath, "I'm fine. Harry was just...thanking me for something, that's all."

Tonks all but laughed. "Must have been some thank you...."

"Made my toes curl," Hermione whispered just loud enough for Harry to hear. Pulling herself together, she then asked, "You said something about a meeting?"

In a more sober tone, Tonks said, "Yes. Mad-Eye thinks the Order has been sitting on its collective butt long enough and needs to get back to work. So he's been going around, making sure everyone knows where the new headquarters is, and telling them to meet there this Sunday night.

"Keep your fingers crossed that anyone shows up," Remus added

The smile on Harry's face widened as the idea he had continued to develop. Meanwhile, Ron was staring at him, waiting for an explanation. Hermione didn't share his confusion, having caught on to Harry's plan.

Harry asked, "Remus, would it be possible for us to talk with you, Moody, and a couple of other people before that meeting?"

"I suppose we can ask them to come early," Lupin slowly replied. "Who do you want to talk to?"

Harry gave him two names, one of which brought a smile to Ron's face and left Hermione berating herself. Remus and Tonks were radiating almost identical feelings of confused curiosity.

When they'd finished, Remus once again asked what this was all about. Harry didn't answer him, except for the cryptic smile he shared with Hermione.

**********

The current headquarters was a small cottage that had served as Albus Dumbledore's summer home. On Moody's orders, the actual location wasn't being given out to non-members, so Remus and Tonks had to side-along apparate the trio to a nearby spot. Finding themselves on a wooded path, Remus showed Harry, Hermione, and Ron a note that said, "Go east to the standing stone and take a left to find the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Before leaving Grimmauld, Hermione had brewed a sleeping draught that they'd slipped into Malfoy's dinner. Certain that their "guest" wouldn't be getting into any mischief while they were gone, the trio focused their attention on what they were about to do.

After confirming their identities, Moody led them to the back room, where the others were waiting. With his magical eye constantly flicking around in its socket, Alastor Moody acknowledged their entrance in his usual gruff manner. Minerva McGonagall rose to greet them, saying, "I didn't expect to see you again quite so soon."

"I know, Professor," Harry said, hiding his nervousness behind a friendly smile. "Hope you don't mind if I decided to fulfill my part of our bargain a little earlier than we planned. Looks like we're short one. Where's -"

They heard the front door open and close, followed by Bill Weasley announcing his arrival. "Hello, Harry...Hermione. How's it going, Ron? "Sorry if we're late, but Fleur's been a bit peaked lately."

"Eet is nothing, I just feel a little ill from time to time," Fleur told Bill testily. She then added in a placating tone, "But I will go see a 'Ealer if it doesn't stop by the end of this week."

Though she didn't say so, Harry had the impression that Fleur knew, or suspected, what might be causing her problem -- and it filled her with both excitement and dread. For the moment, however, Harry had bigger things to worry about.

Moody sent Fleur to set up the main room for the Order's meeting while everyone except Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their seats. Mad-Eye personally sealed the room. "All right, Potter. We're all here, so what is it you wanted to tell us?"

Taking a deep breath, Harry took the flat case Ron had made out of his backpack. "Well, actually, there's something I needed to ask you but it'll take some explaining. But before we start, Bill, tell me what you make out of this. Be careful." He slid the case over, along with a pair of dragon-hide gloves.

Giving them a skeptical look, Bill put on the gloves and took the locket out of its case. His doubt gave way to interest as he examined it. Remus, Tonks, and Professor McGonagall all lead in to get a better look. Moody could see just fine from where he was.

"Let's see," Bill said distantly. "I'd say ninth or tenth century...very rare. It's probably wizard make, though I can't rule out a goblin craftsman." He tried opening it but had no luck, of course. "The cover is jammed closed, but I don't see any damage. Must be a spell of some kind. There's also a symbol on it...can't say what it is, I'm more familiar with Egyptian hieroglyphics."

"The mark is Salazar Slytherin's," Moody said abruptly. "Thought everybody knew that. What's with that aura around it?"

Bill took out his wand and cast a detection spell, causing the locket to radiate a dark light. "Don't know, I've never seen anything quite like it."

McGonagall joined in. "Filius might know more, but could it be some kind of magical seal?"

"Maybe. But if so, it's the Darkest seal I've ever seen," Bill answered. "I have no idea what's inside it...."

"Since you asked," Harry spoke up, "that locket contains a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul."

That brought an immediate reaction. Cursing, Bill flung the locket across the table while McGonagall, Remus, and Tonks each took a step back. Moody's real eye went almost as wide as his artifical one as he muttered, "A Horcrux.... That would explain a few things."

"You've seen one of these before?" Harry asked him.

Moody shook his head. "Nope, only heard about them. Few Dark wizards are both powerful and mad enough to go in for such things."

"Well, I've never heard of one," Tonks said sharply. "What is it?"

Hermione had already prepared an answer. "Put simply, a Horcrux is an object in which a witch or wizard stores a piece of a their soul. Our information is limited, but first the wizard splits off part of his soul by killing someone, and then uses Dark magic to somehow seal the fragment inside the chosen object. So long as the Horcrux, or in this case, Horcruxes survive, the witch or wizard who made them cannot die. Voldemort chose his Horcruxes as a way to make himself immortal."

"Pretty good, Granger, but you missed a spot," Moody said. "Murder alone isn't enough to fragment a soul like that. It has to be a senseless death. Killing someone just for the sake of killing. 'Course, that's Voldemort all over." Leaning back in his chair, Moody rubbed his scarred chin. "I want to know how you learned all of this, where you found the locket, how you can be certain that it's Voldemort's, and what you mean by 'Horcruxes'."

McGonagall spoke up. "I believe that I can answer the first part. Although I was not privy to what occurred during the sessions, I know that Albus was giving private instruction to Mister Potter prior to his death." Addressing Harry, she then said, "I would assume that you two discovered the location of the Horcrux and went to recover it on the day Hogwarts was attacked."

"Basically, except it wasn't there," Harry said with a frown. Taking the other locket out of his pocket, he explained, "This is what we found in the place where Voldemort originally hid the Horcrux. Years ago, a disenchanted Death Eater stole the real one when he tried to leave Voldemort's service. He left his initials on a note inside, and we eventually discovered this person to be none other than Regulus Black." Remus and Tonks gaped at the revelation. Both of them started to say something, but Harry stopped them. "But we're getting a little ahead of ourselves. We should really start at the beginning."

For most of the next hour, the teens gave a truncated account of what they knew. Harry talked about his "special lessons" and Voldemort's history while Hermione handled any technical details that came up, and Ron recounted their trips to Godric's Hollow and Grimmauld Place. The only thing they left out was the part about Harry and Hermione being Empaths. Not because they didn't trust the Order members, but...well, it was kind of personal, and not really germane to the discussion.

The meeting went fairly smoothly, even though the trio was frequently interrupted. Moody, in particular, kept asking questions about Voldemort, his motivations, and where the Horcruxes fit into the Dark Lord's plans.

When they neared the end of the talk, it was Bill who first voiced everyone's feelings (except, perhaps, for Moody -- Harry couldn't sense much from him except for the suspicion and paranoia that Mad-Eye was so well-known for.)

"Unbelievable. Here we've always thought of Voldemort as this incredibly powerful Dark wizard, and now you're now telling us that he's just a nutter fooling to the whole damned world."

"If only it were that simple," Harry replied. "Tom Riddle is an exceptionally powerful and dangerous wizard, and no one should ever think otherwise. His skill at using people and manipulating everyone's perception of him makes Voldemort even more dangerous in my mind, not less. Also, despite what some may say, he's far from insane."

"An interesting conclusion, Potter," Moody growled in response. "Can you support it?"

Harry leaned back in his chair for a moment before answering. This was taking a lot longer than he'd thought it would, and having Moody question their every other word was getting tiresome. Remus, Tonks, and Bill listened carefully to everything they said, asking questions only when they needed something clarified. Even Minerva McGonagall, beneath her reserved demeanor, didn't seem to have any fundamental problems with the teens' reasoning. So what's Moody's fu -

Under the table, Harry felt Hermione grasp his hand, a simple gesture that brought him back to earth. Her concern for him immediately came through, along with a wave of emotion that all but said, Calm down. We expected this. He gave her hand a quick squeeze as he returned half of Moody's gaze...that damn artificial eye of his was currently looking right through the table at Harry and Hermione's joined hands.

Letting some of his annoyance show, Harry curtly told Mad-Eye, "If you're asking me why Voldemort is the way he is, I have no idea. Maybe Tom found out that he could hurt people at a young age and he got off on it. Believe me, I know the type.

"All the same, Voldemort isn't stupid. From the beginning, he knew what would happen to him if he was caught. Back when he would torment the kids at his orphanage, he always made sure that no one could prove that he was doing it. Then when he moved up to murder, he framed other people for his crimes -- Hagrid for killing Moaning Myrtle, his uncle Morfin for killing the Riddles, and so on. If Tom was just another madman, I don't think he would have gone through all that trouble to cover himself."

"Maybe... But then, why did he change the way he operates?" Bill asked.

Harry shook his head. "Did he? Voldemort has always seen people either as tools for him to use or as obstacles for him to remove. The only difference now is that he has the Death Eaters to do his dirty work. Of course, none of them realize that Tom doesn't care one whit about anybody but himself, and would turn on the whole lot of them in a heartbeat if it suited his purposes."

That last statement chilled everyone in the room...except for Moody, who flashed a grim smile.

"Does that mean you're done with the interrogation?" Tonks quipped. She then muttered, "Barmy old codger. Glad he retired before I became an Auror."

McGonagall spoke up next. "I'm inclined to agree with her, Alastor. There's no need for you to question every single point Harry and his friends are trying to make."

"Especially when you've been saying the same things for months," Remus added. Not waiting for Moody's answer, he quickly said, "So, Harry. You've told us all about these things, what is it you wanted to ask us?"

"For help," Harry said simply. "Dumbledore never got around to showing me how he broke the spell or spells on Marvolo Gaunt's ring. Ron, Hermione, and I have tried just about everything we can think of to open the locket without success. Here we have Hogwarts' new headmistress, the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we ever had, a Gringott's Curse-Breaker, and two Aurors. Surely between all of us we can come up with a way to deal with the remaining Horcruxes, can't we?"

Despite his confident tone, Harry was very nervous about the outcome of this meeting. He had never been one to go to other people with his problems, whether they were his friends or the authority figures at school. This was largely thanks to the Dursleys, who had made sure that he simply didn't have anyone to turn to for most of his life. It had been one of Harry's personality traits that had always driven Hermione up the wall.

Under the table, Harry intertwined his fingers with Hermione's. It would never cease to amaze him how good this simple contact could make him feel...a reminder that he wasn't alone in this undertaking. Naturally, it paled in comparison to other things they did...but it was a wonderful feeling none the less.

"Okay, that's all we had to say. If you'd like, we can step -"

Remus chose that moment to interrupt. "One thing first.... Why you, Harry? How did you land up with the responsibility for hunting down these Horcruxes?"

"Someone has to, and Professor Dumbledore trusted me with the information," Harry said simply.

"And before you ask," Hermione quickly added, "Ron and I are in this because we're not about to let Harry go it alone." She gave Harry a look that spoke volumes to everyone there.

Returning Hermione's smile, and still holding her hand, Harry stood up. "Now, if there are no more questions, we can step outside while you decide what to do,"

Interestingly enough, it was Mad-Eye who gestured them back into their seats. "That won't be necessary. You want our help, you've got it." All around the table, eyebrows shot up and jaws dropped open...Tonks' in particular. "Don't look at me like that," Moody warned her. "The whole point of the Order is to stop Voldemort, but we can't afford to accept some theory of how to do that without seeing if the people who came up with it have done their homework. Damn it all, good people have died because we didn't bother asking questions. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! That's what we need if we want to win this war!" He pounded the table with his fist for emphasis.

A couple of people rolled their eyes, sensing that one of Moody's rants coming on. Checking the time, Remus spoke up.

"I hate to cut you short, Mad-Eye, but we're running out of time. With luck, the whole Order is waiting outside. If they see these three, they'll want to know why they're here."

"No, they won't," Moody said. "I've got a cover story for them...though some people won't like it." Pointing at the locket, he told Harry, "Get that thing out of sight and make sure it doesn't leave your person." He turned to Bill. "Weasley, I expect you to start working on this as soon as possible."

"No problem...it's not like I have much else to do. There are a few things I used back in Egypt that I'll have to dig up first."

Harry put the Horcrux in his pack, hiding the box under some odds and ends. The zipper closed itself with a tap on his wand, activating the anti-theft spell Hermione had cast on it.

Slinging the backpack over his shoulder, Harry wrapped his other arm around Hermione and they followed Moody out the door. Ron came over from where Bill was talking with McGonagall about his ongoing problem with a certain Ministry official. Harry knew that the professor had absolutely loathed Dolores Umbridge when she was at Hogwarts, a feeling that clearly hadn't faded in the year since the woman had fled the school.

The tiny cottage, which had been nearly empty when the trio had arrived, was now full of people. Instantly recognizable, by her sheer size if nothing else, was Olympe Maxime. Other familiar faces came into view: Arabella Figg (the old squib who lived in Little Whinging), Kingsley Shacklebolt, the barkeeper from the Hog's Head whose name Harry didn't know, Arthur, Molly....

The teens had barely stepped into the room when Harry and Hermione felt a pair of large, hairy arms pull them into a crushing hug.

"Harry! Hermione! Good teh see yah! I always knew that yer two would get together, I just knew it!"

"Hagrid...," Harry gasped, struggling for air. "Need...breathe...Hagrid!"

Rather sheepishly, the half-giant stammered an apology and set them down.

A few steps away, Ron was holding in his laughter at the scene when a small hand came to rest on his arm.

"Why hello, Ronald. I was wondering when we'd see you again."

Surprise was written all over Ron's face. "Luna! How...why...when did you get back?"

"A few days ago," Luna said in her usual, airy voice. "My home is something of a mess right now, so your mum and dad are letting me stay at yours again until school starts. The trip was nice, but disappointing. Daddy and I looked as hard as we could, but we couldn't find any -"

"Oh, please don't get her started," Ginny moaned as she approached them. There was a barely noticeable hitch in her expression when she saw Harry and Hermione. "Mum insisted that we come along. Something about not it not being safe for us to stay home by ourselves." She gave a disgusted growl. "I can take care of myself, but she still treats me like a child."

Molly appeared with a sour look on her face. "You are a child, Ginny...one who won't come of age for another year yet! And if you're so good at taking care of yourself, tell me why you spent two weeks in St. Mungo's last month!" Mrs. Weasley stared at Harry, Hermione, and Ron as if seeing them for the first time. "Harry...what in the world are you doing here?"

Harry tried to come up with an explanation, while trying to ignore the hint of disapproval being directed at him and his girlfriend. He could tell that it was directed at the two of them by how Hermione stiffened in his grasp and the way she defiantly tightened her hold on his waist. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron take a step back -- not wanting to get caught in the potential crossfire between Hermione and his mum.

The tension filling the space between the teens and Molly was broken by Mad-Eye. "They're here because I asked them to come, which is more than I can say for these two." He pointed at Ginny and Luna. "Lupin, show them to the other room and make sure they can't overhear anything. Speaking of which, I'll take those." With a flick of his wand, a pair of Fred and George's Extendable Ears shot out of Ginny's pocket and into Moody's hand. Stashing them in his robes, he told Harry, Hermione, and Ron to follow him -- leaving an irate Ginny and humming Luna in his wake.

He led them to the far end of the room, where a table had been set up for the meeting. Pointing to a group of chairs, Moody told the teens to take a seat and called the meeting to order by pounding on a nearby table. Once everyone had settled down, he picked up a piece of parchment and began to check off names.

Doing a quick head count, Harry realized that this group wasn't as large as he'd first thought. Including those with whom he had discussed the Horcruxes, there were some fifteen members of the Order of the Phoenix assembled in the little house.

"Tell me if I'm wrong," Harry said just loud enough for his friends to hear, "but isn't the Order bigger than this?"

"You're not wrong," Ron answered quietly.

Hermione then whispered in Harry's ear, "It's only a guess...but based on what we saw when they were using Grimmauld as a headquarters, I'd say about a third of them didn't show up tonight."

"Yeah, and some of those who are here aren't too sure about having Mad-Eye in charge." Harry scanned the room as he spoke...watching the faces of those gathered there.

He sympathized with Moody's situation. People had relied on Albus Dumbledore an awful lot. Maybe a little TOO much, Harry thought in retrospect. Now that he was dead, those responsibilities had been divided among a number of people: for example, Harry had taken over the search for Voldemort's Horcruxes and McGonagall became the new headmistress of Hogwarts.

But Moody was in a different position. As far as Harry knew, Dumbledore hadn't left any instructions as to who would lead the Order of the Phoenix in the event of his death; Mad-Eye had simply stepped in and assumed the job. Because of this, along with his reputation, he was having a hard time convincing the Order to follow him. The constant comparisons between Moody's style of leadership and Dumbledore's didn't help either.

Moody put the parchment away and started to speak, only to have Molly stand up and point at the teens behind him.

"What are those three doing here, Mad-Eye? We have rules, you know."

Moody's scowl deepened sightly. "Dumbledore's rules, and he's not here anymore," he said gruffly. "'These three', as you called them, are all of age and have been fighting the Dark Arts since their first year at Hogwarts. They've also been providing us, through Tonks and Lupin, with invaluable information this summer. And there's their little battle with Snape to...."

Arthur tried to calm his wife down, but there was no stopping Molly Weasley when she got like this. "All of that is beside the point! They're still too young to be fighting You-Know-Who and his -"

"Call him Voldemort!" Harry shouted over everyone's heads. He'd been through all of this two summers ago, and didn't want to hear it again. "Or Tom Riddle, if that's easier for you. Everyone who goes around saying 'You-Know-Who' or "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' is doing exactly what the man wants! Spreading fear to the point that no one has the guts to stand up to him!"

Hermione's hand on his arm interrupted Harry's speech. Forcing herself to remain calm, she said, "Mrs. Weasley -- while we appreciate your concern, please try to remember that we are adults now. We're quite capable of making our own choices and accepting any consequences thereof. Be assured that we'll take all the precautions we can and try not to get in over our heads if we can avoid it." It was clear from the tone of her voice that Hermione wasn't just referring to them joining the Order.

Over to Harry's right, Ron jerked a thumb toward Hermione. "What she said." A ripple of laughter went around the room.

Biting back a grin, Harry picked up from where he had left off. "All I meant was that if we're to fight Voldemort," he ignored the gasps when he said the name again, "we have to be willing to face him. As a rather smart man once asked me: how you can fight someone you're so afraid of that you can't even say his name? The answer is that you can't, or rather won't...which is exactly what Voldemort wants."

Mrs. Weasley wasn't very impressed by the young people's words, but she appeared to be in the minority. Nevertheless, and despite Arthur's attempts to coax her back into her seat, she revved up for another round.

That was when another voice said, "Welcome back, James, we've missed you terribly. Lily, what in heaven's name have you done to your hair?"

Harry blinked as all eyes turned to the old wizard from the Hog's Head. Sounding like she was chastising a misbehaving student, Professor McGonagall said, "Aberforth, this is not the time or place for jokes."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the name. Professor Dumbledore had mentioned his brother on several occasions, but Harry had never connected the name Aberforth Dumbledore to the man who ran one of the most disreputable businesses in Hogsmeade. Then again, given some of the things Harry had heard about him, maybe he shouldn't be so surprised.

Moody pounded on the table to regain control of the meeting. "Back to business, everyone! Now, unless there are some pertinent questions you want to ask, I propose that Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley should be admitted into the Order of the Phoenix."

"Seconded!" Remus called from in back, earning a scowl from Molly.

A few minutes passed before Moody called the vote. One by one, starting with Hagrid, people raised their hands in favor. Molly was among those who voted against the proposal, but one look showed that she was in the minority.

"Good," Moody's thin slit of a mouth curled into what could almost be called a smile. "I have a job for you."

Harry groaned, thinking, As if we don't have enough to do this term. Ron echoed the sentiment while Hermione was lost in thought.

"Don't look at me like that," Moody said. "If you want to be in the Order, you'll have to make yourselves useful. Now, Hogwarts will reopen two weeks from tomorrow, and we need to keep an eye out for any Death Eater activity among the students.

"As the Head Boy, Head Girl, and a prefect, you can move about the castle with near impunity. If you come across anything suspicious, report it to Professor McGonagall and myself immediately. We'll figure out what to do about it from there."

In other words: Do exactly what I tried to do last year, Harry thought. Out loud, he answered, "No problem."

Moody grunted and waved them toward where everyone else was sitting. "Fine. Why don't you move over there, where you'll have a better view of things." He then addressed the entire gathering. "Since all of you are aware of the state of the Order, we can move on to a report Tonks has for us."

Tonks patted Harry on the shoulder as they passed each other. Leading Ron and Hermione, he chose seats next to Remus, who quietly said, "Welcome aboard, Harry. Your Mum and Dad would be proud."

"I know," Harry replied. "But why do I get the feeling this was all planned in advance?"

"Now why would you think that?" said Lupin, trying to play innocent (and failing). "Don't worry about it."

Up front, Moody had stepped aside so Tonks could give her report.

Using her professional voice, she began, "For weeks now, we've been investigating the unusual activity of certain Death Eaters. Between the pattern of their appearances and a conversation overheard during the raid on the Burrow, we discovered that they are looking for someone. We had no idea who it was at the time, but that's changed...and we've gone one better, thanks to our newest members." She nodded in the trio's direction.

"While visiting our old headquarters on personal business last week, Harry, Ron, and Hermione came across an uninvited guest. A brief struggle ensued, during which they managed to subdue this person. The intruder turned who out to be none other than Draco Malfoy."

Most of the Order was astounded by the news, but a few responded with anger. One person in particular responded with a burst of pure, unadulterated rage.

"WHERE IS HE?! BRING HIM OUT HERE...I'LL WRING HIS SCRAWNY LITTLE NECK FER HIM!" Hagrid thundered. Olympe Maxime quickly restrained him. (A good thing too. Given his size, strength, and innate resistance to magic, she was probably the only one there who could!)

Moody snapped back, "Like I'd bring the little brat here after what happened with our last so-called 'defector'. Don't worry, he's not going anywhere until we decide what to do with him." Returning to the subject at hand, he asked, "Tonks, what makes you believe that Malfoy is the person the Death Eaters are looking for?"

"Well, for starters, all the unusual activity started about the time that Malfoy claims he went into hiding. Then we have the way Riddle's followers have been acting." Tonks flashed Harry a smile when she said Voldemort's real name. "They showed themselves an awful lot, but only for short periods. Just long enough to let everyone know they were about."

"Sounds like they were 'slapping the shrubbery' as Muggles would say," Arthur called out.

Hermione gently corrected, "That's 'beating the bushes', Mr Weasley. It's a technique used for hunting tigers, I believe. You go out with a bunch of people and have them make all kinds of noise until it scares the animal out of hiding."

"Wizards did something a lot like that back when hunting golden snidgets was still legal," Ron said. Seeing the look he was getting, he added, "Those are the birds the seeker originally -"

"I know what they are!" Hermione snapped. "I have read Quidditch Through the Ages you know!"

"That's enough, you two," McGonagall interrupted. "Tonks, do you know why Malfoy was at Grimmauld Place instead of with the other Death Eaters?"

"Ah...now that's where this gets interesting," she answered. "We all know that he was working for Riddle, but it seems that Draco Malfoy never officially became a Death Eater. He approached them a year ago and took the job of killing Professor Dumbledore under the belief that it was to be his initiation. In the end though, he couldn't do it...which is when Snape took matters into his own hands. Afterwards, Malfoy fled Hogwarts with Snape and disappeared."

"Do you have any idea what happened after he went missing?" Kingsley asked.

Tonks shrugged. "I'm afraid not. All I can say for sure is that something happened. It made Draco leave Voldemort's service and absolutely loath his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. Naturally he wasn't forthcoming with the details, but I think I know what happened....

"Draco's mother went missing shortly after the attack on Hogwarts. Most people thought she went into hiding because she didn't want to answer any questions about her family's activities." Tonks paused for a moment. "However, there's been a rumor going around the Ministry that a witch's body had been found by Muggle authorities in Wiltshire -- no cause of death, so far as they could tell. Remus and I went to check on it on Friday and confirmed that it was the body of Narcissa Malfoy."

Silence filled the room until Hermione said, "I don't understand. If Bellatrix killed her sister, why would she leave the body where Muggles could find it? And why did it take so long for someone to follow up on the report?"

"Wizard pride," Arthur said, shaking his head in disgust. "The Ministry seldom listens to anything that doesn't come from a magical source. When someone brings such things to their attention, they're usually told to get on with more important matters."

Tonks nodded. "Something I've experienced first hand. We can only guess at why Narcissa's body was dumped were it was. The Malfoys haven't been the most effective of Riddle's followers lately, so it might have been meant some kind of insult or punishment. Then again, it could have been my other aunt's way of drumming her out of the family for some reason. We may never know."

As Tonks took her seat, Harry heard Remus ask her, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I've already told you," she answered stiffly, "the woman never so much as acknowledged my existence, much less thought of me as family. Why would I care if she died?"

Moody once again took the floor. "All right, folks. Now that Tonks has finished her report, we have to decide what to do with one Draco Malfoy. Opinions?"

"We can't keep him, Mad-Eye," Kingsley quickly said. "The boy is wanted by the Ministry on at least half a dozen charges. If they find out that we have him, they might accuse us of harboring a fugitive."

"That thought had crossed my mind. Anyone else?" Moody asked.

Another person carefully suggested, "He could have valuable knowledge...if he were approached in the right way we might convince him -"

"To what, join the Order?" Ron blurted out. "The berk would never go for it."

Harry nodded. "Ron's right. Malfoy may have turned his back on Voldemort, but he still hates us and everything we stand for. Recruiting him might have been an option if he'd taken Dumbledore's offer of sanctuary, but now.... No, Draco Malfoy isn't looking for redemption -- hell, he doesn't even think he needs it."

His statement sent a wave of déjà-vu through the veterans of the original Order, but Moody didn't give them time to question Harry about it.

The debate continued for some time before they settled on a plan. Because the Order wasn't equipped to handle prisoners, Malfoy would be handed over to the Aurors once Moody had a chance to question him. If Draco cooperated, they would see about helping him -- otherwise he would be looking forward to a very, very long stay in Azkaban, as Ron commented dryly. In addition, Malfoy would be given a memory charm to hide the truth behind his capture.

The meeting finally ended around half-past ten , once everyone had been given their assignments. These were pretty much the same sort of thing that Harry, Hermione, and Ron had been asked to do -- to go about their normal business while keeping an eye out for suspicious activity. All infiltration missions were on hold due to Snape's involvement in their planning, and because Moody felt that it might be best for the Order to keep a low profile.

"With luck, Voldemort will think that we've disbanded in the wake of Albus Dumbledore's death...much like his Death Eaters did after his defeat sixteen years ago. When the time is right, we'll show him why we're called the Order of the Phoenix. Anything else?" When nobody spoke up, Moody said with a satisfied smirk, "Fine. Meeting adjourned. Potter, I need to see you for a second."

Slinging his pack onto his shoulder; Harry made his way through the crowd once again, with Hermione close behind. With the press of people, it took them a few minutes to notice that Ron had gone to the other room. Exchanging a look, Harry and Hermione agreed that he was probably off to meet a certain blond Ravenclaw.

**********

The teens got back to Grimmauld sometime around midnight. After making sure that Malfoy was where they'd left him, Harry wandered into Sirius' old room, his mind preoccupied with the events of that evening.

It had been a good night all around: they'd gotten some much-needed help with the Horcrux, and joining the Order of the Phoenix had been interesting to say the least, as had the conversations they'd been drawn into afterwards. Then, to top it all off, catching Ron with Luna on his lap meant that Harry and Hermione would have some ammunition to use the next time he teased them about their relationship.

Speaking of Hermione, Harry sensed her most welcomed presence a second before she came in.

"Not so long ago, I would've been surprised to find you in here with a smile on your face," she joked.

"What can I say? We had a good night."

"Yes, we did...." Cupping his cheek, Hermione captured his lips in a long, slow, passionate kiss.

Sliding his arms around her waist, Harry gently drew Hermione to him. He felt her lips twitching into a smile and heard her giggle as she settled on the bed next to him.

Coming up for air, he whispered, "It feels like we haven't done this in ages."

"Eight days to be exact," she answered. "We were so busy getting ready for Moody last night that we missed our Saturday night snog."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, and it doesn't help that this house is one of the *least* romantic places I know."

"True, but we can live with it for one night," Hermione said just before she kissed him again. "Just remember where to keep your hands."

"Oh, really?" Harry slid his hand further down her back. "Like here?" he asked as his finger inched just below her waist.

"Hardly," Hermione said, stopping his hand. Nuzzling his ear, she then whispered, "But in the future you may find that your hands will get a lot farther, if they move a little slower."

Harry's eyes went wide. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? A soft giggle confirmed that he had, indeed, heard right.

"Slow is good," Harry breathed, moving to capture her lips once again.

"Oh, yes. Very good."


**********

Harry and Hermione were still in each other’s arms a couple of hours later when Crookshanks came in from his late-night security patrol. They were very rumpled and their mating-scents were somewhat stronger than usual, he observed, but all of their coverings were still in place.

The cat glanced up at Hedwig, each conveying their amusement to the other. Humans, Crookshanks thought, always making things more complicated than they had to be. Now if they'd been cats or even owls, Harry and Hermione would just mate and get it over with. But oh no, humans had to go through some long, silly process first. It was enough to drive a kneazle mad.

Jumping onto the bed, Crookshanks released a feline sigh as he curled into a ball at his humans' feet (he and Hedwig had long since agreed that Harry and Hermione belonged to both of them) and went to sleep.

**********
end chapter 14

Lies and Illusions chapter 15
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and don't own Harry Potter, so suing me won't do any good.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 15
Slytherin's Locket

It was a familiar scene: he was walking through the halls of his family's home with his mother as he had countless times before. Nothing was out of place except for the fear in her eyes and the feeling of dread in his heart.

"Take this," she whispered in his ear, placing a chain bearing her wedding ring around his neck.

"Mother," he tried to say, but she quickly silenced his protests.

"No! For once in your life, you're going to listen to me! This will get you to safety if anything bad happens."

Breaking her gaze, the boy found himself in his family's main dining hall. More Death Eaters were there, silently paying homage to their not-quite-human master.

"Ah, there you are," said Lord Voldemort as he rose out of the chair at the head of the table. "It isn't polite to keep your guests waiting."

The Dark Lord's pleasant demeanor did nothing to calm the young man's racing pulse as he approached them. It only made it go faster.

Voldemort's false smile widened. "Nothing to say, I see. It's just as well since I'm very disappointed in you."

"My lord, Albus Dumbledore is dead. The assignment was completed as you wished," the boy's mother had said nervously.

"Completed, yes...but not by the one I gave it to!" Voldemort spat. "And thanks to your interference my most valuable spy has been exposed -"

The woman stammered out her reply. "I'm sorry my Lord. Tha...that wasn't my intention. I...I just wa...wanted to -"

"To protect your son, as any good mother would," Voldemort said sweetly, caressing her cheek. "A most noble sentiment and one that I can truly appreciate. However, I cannot allow you to go unpunished...." There was a long pause before he whispered just loud enough for the two of them to hear, "Interfering with my plans will cost you everything you have, starting with the one you sought to protect...."

Far away a door opened and closed, but no one seemed to notice save the boy. Meanwhile, Voldemort had stopped halfway to the door. "Dispose of him," he said without a hint of emotion.

A Death Eater stepped out of shadows and said in a female voice, "Of course, Master."

"No...you can't, you wouldn't...," the mother pleaded as the Death Eater drew her wand. Taking another step towards them, the white mask vanished, revealing the face of his aunt.

There was another voice in the background, saying something he couldn't understand.

"Bella, please!"

"AVADA KEDAVERA!"

The Killing Curse erupted from his aunt's wand just as his mother jumped in front of him. Then, just as her body was bathed in green light, Draco felt a sharp blow and heard....

"Get up, Malfoy! You and I are going to talk."

Now awake, Draco Malfoy remembered that he'd been dreaming, and what happened after the point where the dream had ended. The look in his aunt's eyes as she rolled her sister's body off of him. Her hand on his arm as she hauled him to his feet. Him struggling against her grasp while desperately fumbling for his wand. The curse he'd used to get free and then, almost accidentally, grabbing his mother's ring....

Rolling over, Draco opened his eyes and screamed. Mad-Eye Moody was standing no more than two feet away from him, giving the bed another kick with his good leg. Instinctively checking the exit, Draco saw the ragged (but no less frightening in his opinion) shape of Remus Lupin standing guard over it. Being locked in a room with this particular Auror and a werewolf definitely wasn't how he wanted to start the day.

**********

On Moody's orders, Remus had taken over the responsibility for Draco Malfoy. This freed up Harry, Hermione, and Ron to spend more time working on the Horcrux with Bill.

As they watched the Curse-Breaker preparing to tackle Slytherin's locket, it was clear that Bill was both very good and very careful when it came to his chosen profession. After selecting the formal dining room to work in, he began to unpack his equipment. Before long, the Horcrux was suspended from a stand placed inside a group of plate glass barriers. Hermione commented on their fragile appearance, Bill smiled and whacked the side of the table with one. It left a deep gouge in the oak, but the glass was completely unharmed.

Bill laughed. "I said the same thing the first time I saw one of these, until the witch handling my indoctrination whacked it against a limestone block. Don't worry, Hermione. I used these all the time when I was in Egypt and have never seen anything get through them yet."

"It still seems like an awful lot of trouble for one stupid locket," Ron commented.

"I take it that you never got a good look Dumbledore's hand last term," Harry replied, shuddering at the memory. "It was all shriveled, blackened, and dead-looking...."

Bill winced at the description. "That sounds like something that happened to one of my colleagues once. As I remember, he spent over a month in Cairo getting it reversed. All the more reason not to take any unnecessary chances," he said firmly, returning the last shield to its full size and securing it in place.

"Careful" was the watchword as they went about systematically testing the effects of various spells and incantations on the locket. Most of them did little if anything, and some of the more energetic sorts of magic violently ricocheted off the Dark enchantments -- thus proving the wisdom of placing the protective barriers between them and the Horcrux. Then, on the third day of their work, Hermione said that she had an idea. After a few minutes of explaining, they spent a day and a half jumbling arcane words and phrases. Eventually, under Bill's guidance, a long, complex incantation took shape.

"There....I think that should do it, assuming that you're right about this," Bill finally said.

"Do what?" Tonks asked, coming in with Remus.

Hermione read the spell over Bill's shoulder. "Break the Horcrux charm, we hope. This is so exciting! I never tried to invent a spell before."

"Well, we're not really inventing -- more like mixing some existing spells together." Bill looked up and saw the tired expression on Tonks' face. "What's the matter, Tonks? Long day at work?"

"You could say that," Tonks answered, but she didn't elaborate on it. "So, you think that you've finally got it?"

"There's only one way to know for sure," said Bill. "Harry, if you care to do the honors..."

With a nod and a deep breath, Harry stepped forward. Hermione gave him a quick hug and whispered, "You can do it. I know you can," to which he replied, "I know you do". Looking up, he added, "Remus, Tonks -- I'll need your cooperation with this. Try to think about something that makes you feel good and hold on to that feeling."

Harry waited for a few minutes. When everyone was ready, he took a deep breath and started casting the spell.

For a minute or so there was no reaction. Then, slowly, a halo of golden light began to form around the locket. The light grew brighter as Harry continued to mutter the incantation and circle it with his wand, flickering slightly as it closed in on the Horcrux. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he felt his wand vibrate in a particular way. Finally, nothing could be seen dangling from the stand but a ball of magical energy.

Suddenly there was a sound like cracking glass and an inky vapor started pouring out. Harry stumbled back as the mist formed a shadowy head and torso above him. A face also appeared -- not that of the young Tom Riddle who had attended Hogwarts or the face of Voldemort Harry had seen on the back of Professor Quirrell’s head at the end of his first year, but one somewhere in between them. The soul fragment tried to reach out to Harry, but its hand began to dissolve into nothing even as it was raised. The rest of him vanished a few minutes later.

Hermione and Ron rushed to Harry's side, with Remus a couple of steps behind.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked Harry as they helped him to his feet.

"Yes, I think so," Harry said unsteadily as his friends guided him to a chair. "Just a bit drained, is all."

Tonks stared at his ashen face. "We can tell. What kind of spell was that?"

"It definitely wasn't one I've seen before," Remus said, holding out a chair for Harry.

"Light magic, for lack of a better term," Harry answered as he sat down. "Just the sort of thing that Voldemort would never think of."

Bill took over from there. "Basically the spell we wrote surrounds the target with raw magical energy. As it strengthens, the spell erodes the Horcrux charms until they collapse and the soul fragment is released. Though you never explained why it's important for us to 'think happy thoughts' before starting this."

Now it was Hermione's turn to speak.

"I'm sure you know that certain kinds of magic are intrinsically linked to emotion."

Tonks nodded. "Of course. That's one of the reasons why the Unforgivibles are...well, unforgivable."

"It's also why a witch or wizard can actually lose the ability to use magic if they suffer a severe emotional blow," Hermione added before getting back on track. "Harry told Ron and I that he was briefly possessed by Voldemort during the battle in the Ministry of Magic, but his feelings were too much for Riddle and drove him out. Yesterday, it occurred to me that there might be a way to magically duplicate that effect.

"What we came up with is a spell derived from the Patronus Charm. So, in addition to what Bill said, the spell bathes the object in positive emotions. The Horcrux becomes unbearable and the soul fragment is forced to leave. It takes total concentration. So we had to be sure that nobody would distract Harry while he was casting the spell."

It was a good explanation, as far as it went. The truth was that the spell wouldn't have worked as well as it did if Harry wasn't an Empath. In her reading, Hermione had come across the idea that Empaths could not only sense other people's feelings but, under the right conditions, channel those emotions into their own magic. From there, it was a simple matter of enlisting Bill's experience to help turn that theory into a practical approach to disposing of the Horcruxes.

"Assuming that it actually worked," Harry asked, regaining his strength. "What do you say Bill?"

Bill smiled at him. "Believe me, it worked. Look here, not a trace of Dark magic left on the locket. You wrecked the latch, but that's repairable." Taking a few tools from his kit, Bill started to carefully pry the locket open.

Sitting in Harry's lap, Hermione gave him a joyful hug.

Ron whispered in his brother's ear, "What did I tell you, Bill? Give them slightest reason and then they get so snuggly it's revolting!"

"Why don't you go snog Luna?" Hermione snapped, having overheard the comment.

"I'd like to" Ron shot back. "Can we go home now?"

Bill and Tonks snickered at the exchange, while Remus stood there lost in thought. Noticing this, Harry asked him what was wrong.

"I was just wondering if Voldemort can sense the destruction of his Horcruxes."

"Professor Dumbledore didn't think he would, not until he's on the verge of death. Although the professor made mistakes and believed a little too strongly in people's better natures, I see no reason to doubt him on this," Harry said.

Lupin nodded, accepting Harry's reassurances.

Back at the table, Bill finished gently prying the locket open. Examining it, he called out, "Hey, take a look at this."

Sliding the locket to where he could see it better, Harry saw that there was what appeared to be a tiny, and very, very old, painting inside. Four people depicted in it, two witches and two wizards -- none of whom needed any introduction.

"I've seen this image in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione said excitedly. "It's of the Founders celebrating the opening of the school. Slytherin must have had this made to commemorate the event, and kept it even after his falling out with Godric Gryffindor."

"You have a real gift for understatement, Hermione," Tonks said. "The only reason Slytherin left Hogwarts after their 'falling out' was because Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff sided with Gryffindor, and he couldn't stand against all three of them at once."

Ron muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear, "With all the trouble they cause, I still don't understand why Hogwarts doesn't just get rid of Slytherin House all together."

"Unfortunately, they really don't have much choice in the matter," Lupin explained. "The house structure is integrated into the school's very nature. Removing any one of them would undermine the magic that holds the castle together. Slytherin would be especially bad because he supposedly did most of the work on the foundations."

"So that's why the Slytherin common room is in the dungeon," Ron said, "and how he was able to slip in the Chamber of Secrets without anyone knowing."

Hermione nodded. "Exactly. Each Founder was responsible for designing a different part of the castle, though they all participated in the actual building. Along the way, each of them chose a place in their 'area' for what would become their House. It's all in Hogwarts: a History, for anyone who would bother to read it." She gave Ron one of her dirty looks.

Harry only half-listened to the conversation going on around him. He was too occupied squinting at the picture in the locket, trying to see the tiny details. Bill gave him a nudge and handed him a brass jeweler's loupe that was part of his tool kit. Holding it up to his glasses, Harry went back to scrutinizing the image.

After a few minutes, Harry felt Bill nudge him again. "Looking for something?" he asked.

"You could say that. There are three Horcruxes left, and we don't have a clue what one of them is except that it most likely belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw. Maybe, if we're lucky, this picture will give us some idea of what we're...." Something caught Harry's eye, causing him to stop in mid-sentence. "Hermione, does this look familiar to you?"

Hermione took the tiny magnifier and leaned over for a better look. Harry tightened his arms around her middle to make sure she didn't slide off his lap.

"Not to sound stupid," Tonks said, "but if this picture is in Hogwarts: A History, why didn't you check this earlier?"

Harry, who was leaning over Hermione, said without looking up, "We tried, but couldn't make out any details."

"A problem that we don't have with this picture," Hermione finished for him. "Amazing -- I can see facets of the rubies on the hilt of Gryffindor's sword almost as if it was sitting right in front of us. As for Rowena...." She studied the image for a few minutes before spotting what Harry had found. "Her necklace...."

Ron took the locket next. "All I see are a bunch of white gems around her neck."

"Yes, opals perhaps?" Hermione said.

Harry explained, "Like the necklace from Borgin and Burkes that Malfoy tried using to assassinate Dumbledore, but almost killed Katie Bell with instead."

Tonks looked at them in shock. "That makes no sense. By all accounts, Rowena Ravenclaw hated the Dark Arts! There's no way she would have placed a deadly curse on her jewelery," she said.

"She wouldn't, but Voldemort would," Lupin said quietly. "Especially if he wanted to hide one of his Horcruxes in a shop known for dealing in Dark artifacts. Harry, didn't you say that Voldemort hid his Horcruxes in places that were important to him?"

Harry nodded. "Dumbledore told me that he found Marvolo's ring in the ruins of the Gaunts' home, and this locket was originally in the cave where a young Tom Riddle once tortured two other children from his orphanage. Nagini is with Voldemort, which makes sense since the most important thing in the world to him is himself." Harry snapped his fingers. "Tom worked at Borgin and Burkes after finishing Hogwarts, which is how he found the locket and Hufflepuff's cup."

"Sounds like we have a couple of leads to follow up on," said Hermione. "The shop would be a logical place to look, simply because it's connected to Tom Riddle. I have no idea what's become of the necklace...."

"Minerva might. At the very least, she could inquire about it without raising suspicion," Remus supplied.

Harry thought about it. "We'll have to ask her about it when we return to school. I'd rather not use owls unless it's urgent. There's too big of a chance of them being intercepted."

They all got to work cleaning up. As he was putting the locket in its box, Harry heard Bill say, "Tell me something: Am I the only one who's noticed that Hogwarts always comes up whenever we talk about Riddle's little trophy collection?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all traded a surprised look. Surely, they couldn't have overlooked something as obvious as that?

"Almost as if the school was at the center of everything," Ron said, thinking out loud.

Harry needed to sit down again. His mind was racing so fast that it made him dizzy, or maybe he hadn't quite recovered from his struggle with the Horcrux. It was hard to tell.

In a flash, Hermione was at his side.

"I'm all right," Harry told her. With a hollow laugh, he said, "It's starting to look like we would have had to go back to Hogwarts whether we wanted to or not."

"So it would seem," Hermione said with a smile. "Come on. We're just about done here, and you still look awfully tired."

"Why are you always looking after me?" Harry asked her as she helped him back up.

Hermione answered lightly, "Everyone needs a hobby." Glancing at the others, she said, "Excuse us, please," and Disapparated with Harry.

Tonks looked over at Ron. "Did Hermione just make a joke?"

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Ron said with a straight face.

Remus came up with the next question. "What did Harry mean about going back to Hogwarts whether he wanted to or not?"

"Oh, that's nothing." Ron looked uncomfortable for a second. "After Dumbledore died, Harry didn't plan on going back to school this fall. But Hermione talked him out of it."

"I assume that you never mentioned this to Mum," said Bill.

"Are you kidding?" Ron asked his brother. "I may be thick, but I'm not stupid!"

**********

end chapter 15

Lies and Illusions chp. 16
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. The characters, locations and whatnot from Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.

___________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 16

End of the Beginning


The trio returned to the Burrow for the last week of their summer holiday. With Slytherin's locket taken care of, and stored in Harry's trunk, they could take it easy until they returned to school.

Much to Hermione's chagrin, Harry had yet to open his Hogwarts letter. "I don't see any reason to," he told her when she brought it up. "McGonagall already told us all the important stuff and, unlike some Head Boys we've known, I see no point in wearing my badge outside school."

Trying not to smile, Hermione said, "Then you aren't aware of the change to our book list."

His curiosity piqued, Harry went to dig the letter out of his trunk. Somehow it had ended up under his Firebolt, which in turn had gotten buried under his school robes.

"You do know that there's more to packing than just throwing stuff in your trunk, don't you?" Hermione picked a shirt out of the mess and started folding it.

"Never gave it much thought." Harry broke the seal on the envelope and unfolded the parchment inside. His gold Head Boy badge tumbled onto the floor at his feet.

One of the letters was from Professor McGonagall, notifying him that he'd been selected to be Head Boy. Nothing new there. The second one was written by Professor Flitwick. That was pretty standard too, except for a note saying that Advanced Potion Making had been replaced by Stinkwurse's Guide to Complex Potions.

Holding up the parchment, Harry asked Hermione, "I suppose that McGonagall had something to do with this?"

"Most likely. She wasn't too happy about Slughorn manipulating his students' grades, after all," Hermione answered lightly.

Since they had to go to Diagon Alley for school supplies anyway, Harry thought they would kill two birds with one stone by checking out Borgin and Burkes. A quick trip back to Grimmauld, where Remus was still looking after Malfoy, and they quickly put a plan together.

Molly Weasley didn't like the idea of them going to Diagon Alley alone, but relented when they told her that Tonks would be meeting them in the Leaky Cauldron. That left the problem of what to do with Ginny and Luna while they sneaked into Knockturn Alley.

In the end, the decided to ditch Luna and Ginny in the joke shop long enough to sneak into Knockturn Alley. Tonks would keep the owner busy while Harry, under his invisibility cloak, would look for the telltale aura of a Horcrux. Ron and Hermione would stand watch using some old cloaks they found at Grimmauld to hide their faces.

It wasn't a bad plan, but they didn't count on Harry and Hermione being ambushed by a swarm of reporters outside Gringott's.

"Harry, what do you think about Hogwarts reopening?

"Is it true that Professor McGonagall personally met with you?"

"How do you feel about being named Head Boy? Were you surprised?"

"Do you think it's appropriate for the Head Boy and Head Girl to carry on a personal relationship? Given the private rooms -"

Harry had calmly answered all the questions directed at him up until that point. However, he wasn't about to put up with this insinuation...or the person who made it.

"What we do in any room is none of your business, Skeeter," he told the woman coldly. To the rest of the crowd he said, "We're done here."

Taking Hermione's hand, he retreated into Fred and George's joke shop.

"Can you believe that woman? Trying to make our relationship sound like some kind of scandal. Honestly, I'm beginning to wish I'd left her in the jar," Hermione said angrily as the twins ushered them into the back room.

Harry added in the same tone, "And thrown it out the window. I guess she couldn't be bothered with the fact that we're hardly the first Head Boy and Girl to date each other. My parents spring to mind."

"What do you expect?" George asked. "You know that Skeeter is always making stuff up. If you want reality, you're better off with The Quibbler."

"Why, thank you. It's always nice to hear from a satisfied reader," said Luna, who was standing in the door.

Fred and George blinked in confusion. Ron came up behind Luna and waved for his brothers to just let the matter drop.

"Where were you?" Harry asked.

Ron replied, "Tonks couldn't wait for your little press conference to get over with, so I had to help her all by myself." He discreetly handed the balled up invisibility cloak back to Harry.

"And did you find what she was looking for?" Harry asked carefully. Before coming there, the trio had agreed on what they would and wouldn't say in public -- hence the cryptic talk.

Ron shook his head. "If they did have it, it's long gone now." Nudging Luna the rest of the way into the room, he looked around. "What's with all the boxes? I don't remember this room being so cluttered the last time we were here," he said to his brothers.

For the first time, Harry noticed the stacks of boxes that had been piled in the space normally reserved for Fred and George's experiments. All of them were filled with the twin's merchandise.

Fred answered Ron by saying, "Weekend before last, we spotted some little wanker trying to plant some poisoned candies in our shop. We had a little talk with the guy before those Ministry morons came around, but he didn't know a whole lot."

"Why?" asked Harry. "Was he under the Imperious?"

George shook his head. "No, the only thing he was under the influence of was galleons. He was being paid to set us up for the Ministry. Since we still don't know by whom, Dad suggested that we magically tag all our stuff in case they try it again."

They continued to talk for the next hour or so before going back to their shopping. Harry noticed Ginny following them out of the joke shop with a pensive look on her face. When he asked her what was wrong, she said "nothing" and walked away.

**********

The next day, Harry and Hermione were in her room going over the scroll Professor McGonagall had promised them about the changes at Hogwarts. Ron was there too, sitting on the floor with Luna looking at the pictures she had taken on her trip.

Hearing a timid knock on the door, Hermione yelled, "It's open."

Both Harry and Hermione looked up when they felt how nervous Ginny was as she entered.

"Am I interrupting?" asked Ginny.

Harry shook his head. "No, we're just going over what we'll have to tell the prefects on the train. Did you want something?"

Ginny had to take a breath. "No, not exactly. I just...um...felt that I should apologize for the way I've been acting this summer. I was being petty, and stupid, and well...there's no excuse for it."

"Then why did you do it?" asked Hermione, giving the younger girl a piercing stare.

"Jealousy, I guess," Ginny answered with a shrug, "and anger. I worked so hard, and for so long, to get Harry to notice me. Then you came in and took him without having to do a thing. The whole thing made me mad as hell."

Hermione looked at Harry. "I think that you have the wrong impression of us, Ginny. Harry and I have our share of disagreements. We've just learned to talk to one another and work them out."

"Yes, and that was part of my problem," said Ginny. She then looked at Harry. "Did you honestly think that I couldn't see how much you share with her? Or realize just how little you confided in me while we were together? It was as if all the important stuff in your life was a secret I wasn't privy to."

"I wasn't the only one with secrets," stated Harry.

"Guess I deserved that," muttered Ginny. "It's true -- for a long time I thought that I could make Harry finally notice me if I acted more like him. Had to keep it secret, of course...practicing Quidditch, finding a good jinx to use on the Slytherins.... I didn't want Harry to see me if I failed, or face teasing from my brothers, or get another lecture from Hermione.

"And for a little while there, it looked like it had worked. When we kissed in the Gryffindor common room, I could almost hear a part of me roaring in triumph." Staring at her feet, Ginny couldn't see that Harry had turned even redder that she had.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Hermione slowly said, "While I must say what you did was a lot more ethical than, say, using a love potion; you must have known that it wouldn't last. No one could keep up an act like that forever."

"Not everyone thinks as far ahead as you do, Hermione," Ginny said. "Admittedly, using a love potion did cross my mind. But while I may not be the brightest witch around, I knew that it wouldn't have really given me what I wanted, and I've heard that bad things can happen when you stop using them."

"Eh?" Having never had any interest in love potions, Harry had no idea what she was talking about.

Hermione and Ginny both opened their mouths to explain, but Luna beat them to it.

"When someone stops taking a love potion after a long time, they go into a kind of magical withdrawal which causes their feelings for the person who was giving them the potion to reverse. They stop lusting after the person and start despising them instead, ending the relationship shortly thereafter in most cases. My mother told me all about them when I was little. She always said that they were misnamed, should be called 'lust' or 'horny-for-me' potions, and should be re-classified as the Dark Arts."

Realizing that everybody was staring at her, Luna then added, "Oh, don't mind me. I won't say anything. Not even when you start talking about what Harry, Hermione, and Ronald are doing to stop Lord Voldemort."

Harry didn't know what surprised him more: the fact that Luna might know about his quest, or that she seemed only mildly interested in the subject.

"How do you know what we're doing?" Ron asked Luna once he picked his jaw up off the floor.

"I don't," Luna said casually. "But anyone who knows Harry knows that he would never stand by while others are being hurt." She poked Ron with her finger. "And anybody who knows you and Hermione knows that you'd never let him go off by himself. Then we have that gathering we were at. Either they were there to fight Voldemort, or to finally expose the great -"

Thourghly shocked, Hermione stopped her by saying, "Thank you...we, um, get the point. But there's still the matter of the information you stumbled across, Ginny. If Voldemort got wind of what we know, things could become very dangerous for us."

Ginny flinched at the name, but Luna just carried on as she usually did.

"Well, he's not going to hear about that from me," proclaimed Ginny. "Although I may have been a little...bitchy lately, I've had enough of You-Know-Who and his toys to last a lifetime. If that's not enough, you could always use a memory charm on me."

"Yes, we could," Harry said flatly. "Except that it won't make any difference if Voldemort thought that you knew anything important. He'd force you to remember, and it's best not to think about how he'd do it." A shiver ran down his spine when he said it.

Giving Ginny a long, penetrating stare, Harry slowly stated, "I'm trusting you not to say a word about this to anyone. I mean it: not a soul. Because if you do, and someone gets hurt because of it...." He gave his warning a moment to sink in. "That goes for you too, Luna...understand?"

Luna gave them a casual shrug. "Of course. It's not like I would ever have anything to do with the Death Eaters anyway. Those people aren't right in the head."

Harry couldn't help laughing and Hermione shook her head wearily. Luna was puzzled by their reaction at first. Then a chuckling Ron gave her a one-armed hug that made her grin.

Even Ginny managed a weak smile. "If that's everything, I'll be going." She took a step toward the door and stopped. "Do you regret it? Being with me, that is. Because it wasn't real."

"I wouldn't say that it wasn't real, more like it wasn't what it appeared to be -- like a lot of other things recently. As for regrets -" Harry glanced at Hermione, who was keeping her face steadfastly neutral. "While there are a lot of things I regret doing this past year, dating you isn't one of them."

Ginny heaved a sigh of relief. "You don't know how much better that makes me feel." She suddenly laughed. "What am I saying? You two read people's hearts, so of course you know!"

"Could you say that just a little louder, Ginny?" Hermione winced. "I don't think they heard you in London."

"Oops, sorry," Ginny apologized. "Maybe I should shut up before you reconsider that memory charm."

Giving her a cold look, Harry slowly nodded. "Yes, that would be a good idea."

His stare had the desired effect, for Ginny she kept her voice down when she spoke again. "You know, as hard as it was for me to believe this at first -"

A bewildered Luna interrupted, "Why would it be hard to believe? The signs were all over the place in Hermione's case. Harry was harder to figure out, but that's only because he never talked much until recently."

"Tell me about it," muttered Hermione. Catching his reaction, she patted his arm. "Come on. You're not the only one who likes to tease." Hermione showed him the smile he loved so much.

Ginny hastily made for the door, quickly saying, "All right, I'm out of here. Just because I'm not mad about Harry and Hermione being together anymore doesn't mean that I'm ready to watch them snog. If there's anything I can help you with, you know where to find me."

Having one of his silent conversations with Hermione, Harry called out to Ginny just before she disappeared. "Wait a second." Ginny stopped. "There is something you can do -- you and Luna both. Professor McGonagall has asked me to restart Dumbledore's Army." Luna's excitement at the prospect was almost blinding to Harry and Hermione's perceptions. "Since Ron, Hermione, and I will be busy with the prefect meeting, perhaps you two could pass the word to those D.A. members who are still attending Hogwarts."

Luna nodded energetically while Ginny simply said, "Consider it done."

"Thanks." Harry was honestly relieved. Now he had one less thing to worry about.

**********

Summer was over and it was time for them to return to Hogwarts. Unlike their previous journeys to and from platform nine and three-quarters, this time they simply Apparated to a deserted alley across the street from King's Cross. Hermione transported their trunks while Harry and a very nervous Ron side-along Apparated Ginny and Luna, respectively. Mrs. Weasley had come along to see them off, though Harry could tell that she was still a little dazed thanks to the news her eldest son had given them last night.


They were eating outside and Molly had just gone into the house to get dessert when Bill and Fleur stood up.

"Everybody, we have an announcement -" Bill began.

Fred immediately spoke up. "They decided to feed Umbridge to the dragon!"

Everyone laughed -- except for Percy, who started choking on his drink.

"Unfortunately, no," Bill said after a moment. "Damned woman is just as stubborn and vicious as the goblins are. The only good news I have on that front is that I've been offered a temporary job. It seems that a certain private institution has a rather pesky curse they'd like to get rid of."

"You make it sound like they've rented you out to these people," Hermione observed.

Bill laughed, "I'm sure that's how the goblins see it. Gringott's occasionally does this sort of thing for a few select clients. Good thing too," he looked at his father, "since it seems that you and Mum are going to be grandparents."

A squeal followed by a crash was heard in the direction of the house. Arthur rushed to where Molly was sprawled on the ground next to a pail of her homemade ice cream.

"Ez something wrong with her?" a concerned Fleur asked.

"She's okay, just fainted," Arthur said, gently trying to bring Molly around. Seeing the shock on his childrens' faces, he then added, "There's nothing to worry about, your grandmother did the same thing way back when we told her that Bill was on the way. My word, was it really twenty-seven years ago?" He wearily shook his head. "How time flies."


As they walked through the station, Harry noticed a familiar-looking guard turn away from a couple and (what he assumed was) their daughter. As he passed them, they heard the guard muttering, "...and three-quarters. Every ruddy year at this time, some nutter always asks for platform nine and three-...."

Hermione held out her hand. "Perhaps we should offer to help them."

"I don't believe that we'll have to," said Harry. He clearly saw the little girl pointing at them -- or rather, at Hedwig in her cage.

Letting the Weasleys and Luna go on ahead, Harry and Hermione waited for the family that was now coming their way.

"Excuse me," the girl ventured, "I see that you have an owl and...well, can you help me? I'm supposed to -"

"You're looking for the Hogwarts Express but can't find platform nine and three-quarters." The girl's eyes lit up while the adults were more than a little surprised at Hermione's statement.

Harry cleared things up for them by saying, "We heard the guard talking to himself as he walked past us. Don't worry, I had the same problem on my first trip."

To the girl, he said, "Getting on the platform isn't hard. Now, can you see the barrier between platforms nine and ten?" She nodded. "Good. All you need to do is walk straight at the barrier and don't stop, you'll go right though. You might want to run, if you're nervous."

Sensing the girl's doubt, Hermione volunteered to demonstrate. She gave Harry a peck on the cheek and tugged her trolley into motion, inciting a very upset meow.

"Calm down, Crookshanks. I know how much you hate your basket, but we're almost to the train."

The little girl watched in amazement as Hermione walked into the barrier and disappeared.

Harry gently said, "See, there's nothing to it. Go on."

With a smile on her face, the little girl ran through the barrier pulling her trolly.

"Thank you," the man said to Harry. "I don't know what we would have told Ellie's parents if she missed the train."

Harry blinked at the statement. "So you're not...."

"No," the woman said. "They were in a car accident the week before last. Ellie came through with barely a scratch, but her parents just got out of the hospital. It was the weirdest thing...it looked like they drove into a wall or something, but the police can't find any evidence of it."

"Well, I hope they get better," Harry replied carefully, trying not to show his reaction to their story. Having no way of knowning how much they knew about the wizarding world, and this "accident" sure sounded like something the Death Eaters would do, it was best not to say too much. "If you'll excuse me, I should get on the train."

They nodded and let him go on his way. Harry didn't pay much attention as he crossed onto the platform where the Hogwarts Express was waiting.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted from the first car. "I'm going to change for the prefects' meeting. You should do the same."

"All right, I'm coming."

Heaving his heavy trunk onto the train, Harry got helping hand from a very familiar face.

"Hi, Neville. How was your summer?"

"Okay, I guess," Neville answered in a subdued tone. "Gran kept hounding me to get my Apparation license. Believe it or not, I passed! Barely, but I passed. I heard about you being named Head Boy -"

"You and everyone else," Harry commented dryly.

Neville laughed. "I guess you have a point." His voice dropped to an anxious whisper. "By the way, is there any chance at all of you starting the DA up again? Just asking."

"As a matter of fact, I already have Ginny and Luna passing the word to everyone who's still attending Hogwarts." Harry smiled at the joy radiating off Neville when he said that. "You can go help them if you want. Hermione and I will be busy with the prefects for a bit. One other thing...." He beckoned Neville closer. "You know about the fight that happened at the Burrow? Well, we bumped into your mum at St. Mungo's the following day and...and later on we came across some information you might be interested in."

"What kind of -" Neville started to say, but Harry cut him off.

"Not here." Harry said sharply. "We'll talk at Hogwarts...and away from prying ears."

It took Neville a second to catch on. "I...see, I think. Guess I'll see you later then."

Going forward, Harry suddenly wondered what had possessed him to tell Neville what he did. A feeling, perhaps. Something that told Harry to trust him. Or it might be the fact that all the others who had accompanied him to the Department of Mysteries were now doing something to help him, so why not Neville?

The inside of the prefects' car was like the other cars, only nicer and less crowded. After admiring the furnishings in the empty compartment he chose, Harry closed the door and started to change. As he did, his thoughts wandered back over the summer.

Three months ago, he had embarked with his best friends on a seemingly hopeless quest to find Voldemort's Horcruxes. That task, while far from over, had now become a possible (albeit difficult and dangerous) one. Along the way he'd face dead ends, lies, battles, and even his own illusions. The last one he was especially glad to have gotten over, for he had found love in doing so.

Love. Whether it was in the form of his parents' sacrifice, his memories of Sirius and Dumbledore, the friendship he felt for people like Luna and Neville, his brotherly feelings he had toward Ron, or the romance he shared with Hermione, Harry was surrounded by love. Voldemort had rejected all of that in his quest for power -- not knowing and not wanting anything to do with any of love. Maybe it was the very nature of the Dark Arts, or the sorts of people who craved power, to give up a part of their....

Harry laughed at himself. When did he start waxing philosophical? It must have been all that time he'd spent with Albus Dumbledore. Either that, or Hermione was really rubbing off on him.

Speaking of Hermione, there was knock on the door shortly after the Hogwarts Express lurched into motion.

"Harry, are you decent?" she asked.

Settling the robe on his shoulders, he called back, "Yes, you can come in."

Her eyes scanned him from head to toe. "Imagine -- just a few months ago, I thought that I'd never see you dressed like this again. How things change." Hermione reached up to straighten his robes and asked, "Do you remember what you have to say?"

"Got my half of our notes in my pocket."

"And your badge?"

"Right here." Harry pulled open his robe to show her where he'd pinned the badge to his shirt.

Hermione softly chastised him, "You know, most people put the badge on the outside of their robes."

"Nothing in the rules says that I have to." He smiled and took a deep breath. "That should be everything. All I need is a kiss for luck."

Giggling, Hermione pulled his head down so she could give Harry his kiss. When they parted, she quietly said, "I don't care what anyone says, we're definitely taking advantage of those private rooms."

Taking him by the hand, Hermione led Harry to the first compartment of the prefect's car. Unlike the others, it had been magically expanded to the size of one of the house common rooms. The purple walls and carpets clashed terribly with the squishy chairs and sofas upholstered in the different house colors. Bright orange flames flickered merrily in the fireplace opposite the door, right next to a podium bearing the Hogwarts coat of arms.

Most of the prefects had already gathered there. Harry He quickly spotted Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, along with Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw -- all three of whom had been members of Dumbledore's Army. He'd have to talk to them later.

Ron, still dressed in Muggle clothes, sat a short distance away from them along with a couple of the other Gryffindor prefects. On the opposite side of the room, Harry saw Blaise Zabini. *He must have been given Malfoy's prefect badge,* Harry thought. Pansy Parkinson, the other seventh year Slytherin prefect, came in a minute later. She gave Hermione a disgusted scowl, which was returned with a look that all but dared the girl to say something.

Fifteen minutes after leaving King's Cross, the last few stragglers came in. With all twenty-three prefects in attendance, Harry called the meeting to order.

"Take your seats, everyone. We've got a lot to do."

**********
THE END


Final author's note: Although it's taken a lot longer than I originally thought, this fic has reached its end. I know that I've left a number of threads hanging (like Malfoy's fate). Most were meant to tie in to a sequel that I no longer have time to write before the release of *Deathly Hallows*. Should my theories and guesses prove completely wrong, and book 7 goes against our 'ship, I may decide to drown my sorrows by writing that sequel anyway.

In the meantime, there's another story idea I've been playing with (and which contributed to the long delay with this one by refusing to get out of my head!) Hopefully, I can pound it into good enough shape to post before too long.


Until then:

Viper714