The Time of Change

olafr

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 26/02/2006
Last Updated: 26/02/2006
Status: in_progress

The summer after fifth year starts as badly as any other, but Tonks comes to the rescue. Harry works through his grief with the aid of Hermione and Luna. Meanwhile, the machinations of Draco spell trouble for Harry. (This story is rather slow moving, as in I tend to take a while between chapters. Sorry! But I hope you enjoy it anyway.) [Note to readers affected by 'random' or odd characters in certain chapters: Some chapters I uploaded were encoded in Unicode format, and that's resulted in odd displays for some chapters. I'll be uploading fixed chapters in the next day or so. In the meantime, if you're affected by that issue, simply select View/Encoding/UTF-8 in your browser to fix the problem. My apologies for the inconvenience.]

Chapters

1. Harry's New Room

2. At Home With Tonks

3. OWLs and Owling

4. An Unexpected Day

5. Planning

6. Facing Sirius

7. Happy Birthday, Harry

8. A Matter of Will

9. Occlumens

10. At Home With the Grangers

11. Seeing Double

1. Harry's New Room

The Time of Change
Chapter 1: Harry�s New Room

by Olafr ([email�protected]

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13 (so far)

Last updated: 13 December 2004. Revision 4: Incorporated beta-reader feedback: Substantial revision to Harry�s letters; numerous vocabulary, word choice, grammar, and punctuation changes (but no plot changes to speak of).

Ship: When I started this story I was thinking a Harry/Tonks fling followed by Harry/Hermione, but it�s not working out that way. We�ll see.

Author�s Notes: This is my first fanfiction in the Harry Potter universe (I�ve written Ranma� fanfiction before under another pen-name). I�m most interested in commentary on characterisation � if I�m not careful my characters can end up sounding like a middle-aged consultant. Sometimes that�s appropriate (Dumbledore) but other times it�s not (Tonks, Harry).

Huge props and thanks to my beta-readers, Sarah Mandisa and Nosila. Both have helped tremendously by pointing out some gross OOC�ness (particularly with Harry) and points of grammar. Ladies, your help in pointing out problems in the story has been a massive help, and I think the story is far better for your contribution.

Chapter 1: Harry�s New Room

It wasn�t the best way to start a vacation. After only six days after returning to his Aunt�s home from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the end of his fifth year, Harry Potter was bored. Bored and lonely. Already, this summer was shaping up to be one of the worst yet.

The beginning was the trip home from King�s Cross Station with the Dursleys. Dudley jiggled about in his seat, his pudgy hands with their sausage-like fingers locked around a handheld electronic something that beeped and buzzed annoyingly, made worse by the accompanying grunts and snorts and occasional yells of triumph from Dudley himself. Once, Dudley�s flailing elbow smacked painfully into Harry�s side. Harry glared at Dudley but the other boy remained oblivious, an unexpected expression of deep concentration on his moon-like face. Harry retreated until he was leaning against his door, as far away from Dudley as he could possibly get.

The journey had started in silence except for muted traffic sounds and tyre roar punctuated by the beeps and burps of Dudley�s toy. After a time, Dudley insisted that music be put on, and now he fat boy tipped his head back and forth vaguely in time with the wailing of unknown instruments and singers who, Harry thought, could not carry a tune if it had handles. In the front seat, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were talking. Harry wondered what they were talking about but he couldn�t hear them over the music. He attempted for a while to make sense of their lip movements but to no avail, and after a while he ignored them. Instead he spent the rest of the journey trying not to think about his classmates and Sirius, half-mesmerised as he watched the tall light poles of the motorway flick by.

The sun was setting and they had turned off the motorway when the music ceased without warning. �Hey! I was listening to that!� yelled Dudley. Harry saw Uncle Vernon�s neck twitch.

�You can have it back on in a moment, Dudders,� he said indulgently. Uncle Vernon then met Harry�s eyes in the rear vision mirror and his face went cold. �Boy.�

Uh-oh, thought Harry, here it comes. �Yes, sir,� he said.

�You�ll be sleeping in the attic his year, boy. Dudley needs his second bedroom for his training. I�ve had the builders in to make it habitable, at great expense mind you, so I expect you to be properly grateful.�

�Duddykins is becoming a champion boxer!� put in Aunt Petunia proudly as Uncle Vernon paused to navigate the car around a left-hand turn, the indicator clicking loudly.

Uncle Vernon went on, �Your freak friends seem to think that we don�t treat you properly,� he said in a dangerous voice, his eyes slitted. �I�ve never been so offended in my life! Imagine, making baseless accusations in public like that. It�s just as well for you, boy, that nobody I knew saw that little scene, or there would have been trouble.� He paused again, snarling to himself as he drove around a slower vehicle, an old, dark red Vauxhall sedan.

�So listen to me, boy, and listen well. You will stay in your room at all times. You may keep your school books with you, as I�m sure you have a great deal of important homework to do.� Uncle Vernon broke off to smile to himself maliciously before returning his attention to Harry. �You will be permitted to use that rotten bird of yours, but only under cover of darkness. And you had better make quite sure that you send those letters every three days, boy; so help me if one of those freaks so much as shows up at our door you will live to regret it, I assure you of that.� Harry shivered at his uncle�s tone. His voice was deadly, laden with the promise of unspeakable retribution.

Uncle Vernon returned his full attention to the road. The music returned, seeming louder and more annoying than ever, as they passed the sign which said that they were entering the bedroom community of Little Whinging. Why is it that Uncle Vernon scares me as much as Voldemort? wondered Harry.

At length they arrived at 4 Privet Drive. Harry struggled with his heavy chest and birdcage, but some deep instinct told him not to leave anything for a second trip. Hedwig squawked shrilly as he jostled her cage, but Harry quieted her quickly with a few whispered words.

Uncle Vernon was waiting in the entrance hall by the foot of the stairs. �Your new room awaits,� he said with a kind of smiling sneer. �Upstairs.� He led the way up the stairs and watched with hooded eyes as Harry trembled under the stress of carrying the trunk and Hedwig at the same time.

Arriving at the top of the stairs, Harry saw that a new, fold-out stairway had been installed which led into the house�s attic. The lightly-built metal stairway was down and it blocked access to Harry�s room. �Up!� ordered Uncle Vernon.

Harry wobbled unsteadily up the lightly-built metal staircase, feeling as though his fingers would be cut from his hands at any moment by the thin metal handles at each end of his trunk. As his head rose above the ceiling he saw that it was dark up there. The only light came from the open hatchway which reflected from the roof overhead. His eyes adjusted and he could see a little in the gloom. Harry saw that plywood had been put down on the ceiling joists to form a floor. As soon as his trunk was through the hatch he slid it onto the floor. Sighing with relief, he shook his hands to regain the feeling in them.

Curious, Harry looked around. He spotted a bare bulb installed at the peak of the roof with a cord dangling from it, but in the poor light, he could see nothing else. The ends of the attic disappeared in the gloom. It was cold.

�Get up there, boy!� yelled Uncle Vernon from below. Frowning, Harry did so. His uncle followed him, the stair creaking alarmingly, until his head was above the floor level of the attic.

�Uncle Vernon?� Harry asked uncertainly. A sudden cool draft made him shiver. The weather today had been mild and intermittently sunny and with the setting of the sun, the temperature had dropped. It was cool outside, and the attic lacked the warmth of the main house.

�Now listen here, boy, and listen while I�m talking to you. You will keep quiet up here and not disturb the neighbours. That bloody bird of yours may only fly at night, not during the day. Meals will be delivered via the dumbwaiter. If you waste food you will be punished.� Uncle Vernon paused and smiled at him, the light from below giving him an unsettling, almost evil appearance. �Good night.� With that, he retreated down the stairs and, with a great clatter, folded the staircase and pushed it back up until, with a click, the hatch closed.

It was now pitch black in the attic. Another cool breeze wafted past Harry, making him shiver. Groping, he soon found the dangling cord he had spotted earlier and pulled it. The light clicked on and he gasped at what he saw.

The attic occupied the entire plan of the house. All the ceiling joists had been covered with plywood, and the raw, unfinished brick of the house�s gable ends � where the house stood near its neighbours on each side � could be seen. The unfinished, rough-sawn beams of the roof itself were exposed with little bits of wood sticking out, splinters waiting to happen, and Harry could see that he would have to be careful not to hit his head. The pallet from his time under the stairs lay nearby, and against one of the gable walls there was a toilet, shower, basin and mirror with a couple of small shelves. The floor and part of the wall in that area was covered in a nondescript but waterproof linoleum to keep water from seeping through to the house below. Against the gable wall at the other end was a low cabinet that appeared to be built in. Some boxes were piled to one side. Other than that, the space was bare. Gritty grey dust covered everything, even the new floor and bathing area.

Hedwig fussed; Harry leaned down and opened the cage to let her out. She stepped onto his wrist and he petted her, earning a friendly nibble on his finger by way of reply. She hoo�d uncertainly. Harry smiled weakly. �I don�t know either, girl.� Looking around, Harry spotted the dormer windows that had been added, two on each side of the house. �Would you like to go out and hunt, girl?� Hedwig gave an affirmative wh-hoo and Harry stepped over to the nearest window. He saw that it was not glazed, but instead had wire mesh behind large, fixed louvres. Cool outside air flowed in through the mesh, and Harry was glad he would not be here over the winter... summer would be bad enough. There was a small handle which Harry pulled, then pushed, and the louvre opened out to reveal the roof and an excellent view of the serried ranks of suburban roofs that comprised Little Whinging. He held Hedwig out and she launched herself into the night sky.

Feeling tired, Harry took a moment to find the little hook which secured the window open so Hedwig could get in when she returned from her hunt. He then shuffled over to the small mattress that had served him until he was eleven years of age. Too tired to bother with the thin pillow, he changed into his pyjamas and drew out a cloak from his trunk, turned out the light, and collapsed onto the mattress.

But Sleep did not find him straight away. His thoughts turned to Sirius, just as they had throughout the last week. Wistfully, he recalled his first meetings with Sirius here at Privet Drive, then his thoughts flipped willy-nilly to the conversation he had had with Nearly Headless Nick. Was it only last night? It felt much, much longer ago than that. He had so wished that Sirius would be present as a ghost so Harry could talk to him, but Nick had dashed that hope forever. Thoughts of Sirius led him to curse himself silently at the depths of his folly in forgetting about the mirror... could he have avoided Voldemort�s trap, and Sirius� death, if he had not been so irresponsible?

He could feel the black tide of depression rising up to engulf him, but then his thoughts turned to Luna Lovegood. She too had suffered a devastating loss. Her matter-of-fact attitude and firm conviction that she would see her mother once again had been both surprising and a balm on Harry�s soul last night. He decided to write her a letter tomorrow, thanking her.

Sleep beckoned now, and in a half-remembered conviction to not let Voldemort get him ever again, Harry attempted to clear his mind before drifting off to sleep.

The next day had been filled with surprises, both pleasant and otherwise. He had awoken to the ching of a brass bell. He sat up and looked around, wondering where the noise may have come from, but he could see nothing that might have caused it. After a long couple of minutes there was a rumble, then after a minute or two more it came again. Ching. This time Harry caught it: The sound was coming from the low cabinet.

Opening the doors, Harry saw inside a note. In angry writing, it said, Don�t Waste Food!! Behind the note was a plate with half a grapefruit, two slices of toast (now cold), and a spoon. Quickly he grabbed the plate before it could be taken away. Scant fare though it might be compared to Hogwarts, grapefruit and toast was far better than nothing.

His next surprise had been the shower. The hot water simply refused to run, leaving Harry with the unpleasant choice between cold showers and nothing. He decided to wait until the day warmed up before showering, since he didn�t seem to have a towel and so would have to air-dry himself before dressing again.

Despite the attic�s unpleasantness, Harry revelled at being able to use his schoolbooks whenever he wished. He could get out and leave out his parchment and quill and ink if he weighed them down so they didn�t blow away. He could even get out his books and so on. The only problem was, he had no need to. Until the OWL results were returned, no homework could be assigned since not all students proceeded to the NEWT level, and of those that did, each student�s course mix could vary widely.

So he had unfettered access to his books but no homework to do. Oh, the irony.

Instead he decided to follow up on last night�s decision to write to Luna Lovegood. And if he could convince Tonks to make a few modifications to his little abode here, he could see himself being very comfortable. He had no desk of any kind, but for now the floor was flat and, after some hard puffs that left him feeling a little dizzy, relatively clean.

2 July, 1996

Dear Luna,

Thanks for talking with me the day before our return from Hogwarts. Our conversation helped me a little. I was wondering � would you mind telling me more about how you feel you�ll see your Mum again? I suppose you�re referring to what Prof. Dumbledore calls, �The next great adventure.�

I was really sorry to hear about the way your dorm-mates treated you. I know what it�s like to be picked on. Perhaps we can think of a way to stop them.

Sorry if this letter is not welcome, but I do hope to hear from you.

Your friend (I hope),

Harry.

2 July, 1996

Dear Tonks,

Here�s the first of my regular reports. I�m fit and well, so far. My relatives have given me a room in the attic. In most respects it�s a big improvement over my old room.

Tonks, can I ask a favour of you please? I would like to speak with you, stuff that I don�t want to put in a letter. If you do come, please come by broom and I will leave an attic window open for you. (That�s how Hedwig comes and goes.) The only other way in is a hatchway from the upstairs landing which my uncle keeps locked. Please don�t knock on the front door as it will only cause trouble.

I look forward to seeing you, but if you don�t come I�ll understand.

Harry.

Harry had thought deeply about the letter to Tonks. He had to allow for the possibility that Hedwig might be intercepted, so he couldn�t simply state his desires directly. The result had been a rather unsatisfactory compromise but he had sent it off.

And now, Harry was bored. With no homework to do and with no way of getting outside, he had at first played with Hedwig, but that had not lasted long before he had guiltily given in to her clear desires and let the poor bird sleep. He tried napping, but found he could not. Restless energy sang along his arms and legs. He had to do something.

He got out his books. The formed quite a pile now, after five years, and he was thankful for the lightening and expansion charms he had remembered to cast on his trunk before leaving Hogwarts even if they weren�t as powerful as he would have liked � without them he couldn�t have carried the trunk at all. However he couldn�t bring himself to study them right now. He felt Voldemort pressing in on him; not through his scar but in his memories and in his awareness of the prophecy. He decided to try and practice his Occlumency. However, after half an hour, he found that he was being no more successful at clearing his mind than he had previously. The very act of pushing thoughts to one side simply brought them and their relations to the fore.

So with a sigh, Harry plucked the first book off the pile and opened it.

The final surprise of the day was a letter from Hermione. She could only have been home one day when she had written it, and it was so long! Curious and a little nervous, Harry broke the seal and opened the parchment sheets.

2 July, 1996

Dear Harry,

How are you doing? Are the Dursleys treating you well? After the fuss that Mad-Eye Moody and the others made at Kings Cross, I should hope they are.

It seems an eternity until we�re due to get our OWL results. I know you�re not expecting to do well in Astronomy given the problems during the practical, but I certainly hope you do well enough to get into the NEWTs you need to become an Auror. I know you said that was what you wanted to do. I must say that you have the advantage over me there � I don�t really know what I want to do. Maybe a healer, maybe an Auror... maybe a teacher, maybe go into research. I think it�s still a little early to be making final decisions about my future career.

I might even decide to just become a housewife! (Imagine that.)

My point is, I guess, that I�m keeping my options open. I�m hoping my marks will be good enough that I have that luxury. I can think of others that will not, although I have read that O-levels are more than enough for most of the �worker� level positions in Wizarding society.

Oh, listen to me! I sound like an intellectual snob!

Anyway, I suppose I should get to the point. Harry, the reason I�m writing is that I want you to know that I�m here for you. You were treated so badly this year by just everyone, and on top of that there was all that happened in the Department of Mysteries. You must be feeling so alone, Harry, so let me tell you now: You are not alone. You have friends. You have family, of a sort � I�m sure the Weasleys consider you to be part of their family... and what of your extended family on both sides? Neither your mother nor your father sprang like Athena, fully formed from the brow of Zeus; they must have had a father and a mother, siblings, uncles, cousins... why not spend some time looking for them and making contact with them? They can�t all be like your Aunt Petunia and her horrid husband and son.

And finally, Harry, you have people who love you. I�m pretty sure that Ginny loves you, and that Molly Weasley loves you, and even one or two of the other girls from school have feelings for you, I�m sure. (I don�t mean Cho, and I don�t mean the shallow lustful-sigh fan brigade either.) And last but not least, Harry, I love you. You are my dearest friend; four and a half years ago you and Ron came into my life and transformed it into something magical, and since then, you�ve always been there for me.

So let me return the favour, Harry. Let me be there for you, to help you keep from drowning in the sea of sorrow that I know you�re struggling with. Please talk to me, let out your grief, and let me help you through this dark tunnel into the warm light of day once again.

Please.

With love,

Hermione

Finishing Hermione�s letter, Harry let it fall from his trembling hand to the floor. Lying on his side on his small, single mattress, he felt a hot pain, like a scab had been ripped from his heart, leaving him bleeding. Images flitted across his mind�s eye: Sirius smiling at him, the look of surprise on his face as he passed through the veil, Umbridge�s snarl, the Dark feel of the quill she forced him to use to mutilate his own hand, the way his year-mates had turned their backs on him... the hollow feeling at Dumbledore�s revelation of the latest �truth�, the hot flood of anger that followed. The fact that Hermione cared enough to write him that extraordinary letter, even after his treatment of her this year, even after her near-fatal injury.... It all made him feel intensely sad, somehow, and he could not stop the corners of his mouth from pulling down in a rictus of misery. He felt worthless, unworthy. Strong abdominal spasms pulled him involuntarily into a foetal position, and he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe past the aching lump in his throat. Hot tears leaked from his eyes as sobs wracked him, slow and deep, and Harry frantically clutched his thin pillow to his face to muffle the noise. Whatever threats had been made to the Dursleys, Harry knew that any noise would bring the wrath of Vernon Dursley down upon his head.

For a long while, Harry wept. The sun set with its usual summertime reluctance, and it was almost full dark before he lifted his head again. His eyes felt scratchy. His pillow was cold and wet. He was getting chilly now that the sun was down. And he was exhausted. But somehow, he felt better. He pushed himself up with leaden arms and sat up on the edge of his pallet. He picked up Hermione�s letter and put it on his trunk with a small smile. He would write her back later. For now, he was tired. He stood and took a moment to pet Hedwig, who nibbled on his finger in response. Then, Harry took off his outer clothes, turned over his pillow, and slipped under his cloak into bed.

* * *

3 July, 1996

Dear Hermione,

Thank you very much for your letter yesterday. Thanks to you, I cried last night, for the first time since Sirius died.

I suppose I�m not supposed to admit that � I think Ron would tell me it�s not manly � but I feel I can tell you anything. I feel somehow as though I have purged myself. Thinking about Sirius� death still makes me want to cry, but thanks to you I think I can see a time in the future when I can deal with it. You�re not alone in encouraging me to not blame myself: Dumbledore told me that he felt he should take most of the responsibility. Luna told me something that made me think, too: She believes that she will see her mother (who died when Luna was 9) once she passes on. I�ve asked her for more details but to tell you the truth, it�s a thought that gives me some comfort. If I believed that too I think I�d be able to deal with Sirius� loss... and my parents.

As for the rest of your letter: You � a housewife?! Well, I suppose you�d be really good at it � you�re kind, and having seen you take care of the younger students through your Prefect duties, I think you�d be great with kids too. But don�t you think you�re meant for greater things than that? I mean, you can be a housewife and have a family too, of course, but I can see you passing on both knowledge and enthusiasm to young minds at Hogwarts... just like you did for me and the others this year.

Thanks very much for that, by the way. I actually think I have a fighting chance at getting good enough marks to continue to work towards being an Auror, with all your tireless efforts. I would have understood if you had given up on me, too. I certainly didn�t deserve your attention, Hermione, but I�m very grateful for your persistence. (Even if it didn�t seem like it at the time.) The thing is, after our visit to the Ministry this year I�m not sure if I want to have anything to do with it. It now seems to me that the Ministry is corrupt and exists as a parasite on the body politic. (See? I do listen in HoM classes.) How else could someone like Fudge, or that wart on humanity Umbridge, not only exist, but thrive?

I�m sorry, we can talk about that some other time. What I meant to say is this: I don�t know how long it will take, but I feel like I�ve taken the first step along a road, and even though there�s lots of obstacles � such as Voldemort � I can feel that the road does indeed break into the sun and warmth. Thanks for your understanding and love, which appear to have persisted despite me almost getting you killed less than two weeks ago. I�ll try to be more deserving of your friendship and love in the future.

I remain your true and faithful friend,

With love,

Harry.

* * *

3 July, 1996

Dear Harry,

I�m so glad I was able to help, even if it was only a little. I won�t say I�m sorry I made you cry, I think it was necessary, but I�m glad the price you paid appears to have been worth it; in that you can see a way forward now. (Don�t worry, I know that guys feel they�re not supposed to cry. You can trust me not to tell anyone, even though I think it�s stupid.)

I blushed when I read what you wrote about me and children � do you really think that? I think that�s the sweetest thing anyone�s ever told me � thank you. As for helping you and the others: It wasn�t a one-way street. Teaching material to others helps your own understanding of it � didn�t you find it so when you taught the DA? As a result, I�m reasonably confident I did well in the OWLs. And it was a real pleasure helping you, Harry. I got to spend time with my best friend, time when he wasn�t being defensive and pushing people away. (That�s you, you idiot, in case you can�t guess.) Besides, it wasn�t me who people asked to help train them in DADA, it was you. I simply helped around the edges, it was you who led it. (Or perhaps I should say, it�s you who people trusted to teach them in spite of any reservations they may have held about your stability or convictions. And as the DA grew, it was a reflection that people were coming to trust you and perhaps seeing that their earlier perceptions were wrong. So last year wasn�t all bad, was it?)

How are the Dursleys being? Are they bothering you? I�m really hoping to invite you to spend at least part of the summer here at my place, but Professor Dumbledore hasn�t responded to my letter yet. My parents would love to have you spend some time here, though. My mother in particular wants to get to know you for some reason. I hope she isn�t thinking of playing matchmaker � it�s a bad habit of hers.

Well, Mum�s calling me to go shopping with her, so I�ll have to wrap this up now. I look forward to hearing from you soon.

With love,

Hermione

* * *

July 5, 1996

Harry,

Guess what? Charlie invited all of us over to Romania for the summer holiday! They�ve given him a big house all to himself, and he says he�d like to spend some time with the family, but they won�t let him leave his work just now coz he says there�s a clutch of young dragons going through a critical time. Anyway, Dad�s taken leave, and we�re all going over by Portkey tomorrow afternoon.

So I�m afraid we won�t be able to invite you over for part of the summer. We�ll meet you either at the train on September 1 or perhaps at Diagon Alley on August 30 � we�re planning to finish the holiday in the Leaky Cauldron.

Anyway, I hope your summer is okay and the Muggles behave themselves. See you at the train!

- Ron

* * *

Life had fallen into a routine for Harry. He would get up, stretch, have his breakfast, and begin study and deal with any letters that had arrived � and there was often one from Hermione. After lunch he would shower in cold water with a small bar of hard soap that he had discovered and afterwards he would lie on the wooden floor while he waited for the water to evaporate. On most days this was not unpleasant as the weather was usually warm, but yesterday he had woken to cold air and rain, which did not let up until early afternoon.

He had discovered the joys of isometrics as he lay naked on the floor and waited to dry, although he did not know it by that name. Starting as adolescent self-inspection on his second day � looking at his arms and legs and other parts of his body, wondering how he would look with the kind of long, smooth muscle of a gymnast, tensing his abdomen to try and form a �six-pack� � Harry had discovered that by tensing muscles of opposite function against each other he could get much more impressive bulges going. The process also burned energy, leaving him feeling pleasantly tired after a time, and by the day after his second report � this time to Moody � he was spending an hour and a half before his shower in isometric exercise. He exercised nude to save his clothes, as his only way of washing them was to rinse them under the shower or in the basin and then lay them out on the floor to dry.

Luna had written back this morning. A rather tatty-looking barn owl had arrived just after dawn at the window which he now left permanently open, waking him with its low-voiced call. He had scrambled to retrieve the rather bulky letter from the owl, and after offering it water and an owl treat Harry settled down to read.

The tone of Luna�s letter was initially surprised, but she had then proceeded to use a whole scroll of parchment to outline her beliefs for him. In short, she believed in an after-life. She cited examples from the works she had access to on the role of the curtain and ghosts and death in general, and more information about near-death experiences than he had ever wanted to see. She believed the voices from the curtain were related to their shared ability to see thestrals, and saw both as being firm evidence that death was simply what happened when the soul moved on. Confusingly, she also wrote about how the collective memory of a person could also be seen as a kind of after-life, but she dismissed that as a secondary discussion mostly of comfort to those who did not believe that death was not the end, but simply the process of birthing the soul into the next stage of life.

When he had finished reading the lengthy letter cum report, Harry put it to one side, stripped off his clothes, and began his isometric exercises. It was then that he heard an embarrassed cough. His face blazing cherry-red, Harry scrambled for his clothes and pulled on his boxers and jeans before straightening and facing the open window.

There was a shimmering and Tonks faded into view. She looked similar to when he had last seen her � a purple Weird Sisters tee-shirt and many-time-patched jeans, this time with funky purple hair that matched her tee-shirt. She was blushing brightly. �Wotcher, Harry,� she said softly. �Looking good.�

Harry sighed in relief even as his face burned in embarrassment. After so long, he had convinced himself that Tonks wasn�t going to come. He stepped towards her. �Hi, Tonks,� he said. �Thanks for coming.�

She smiled gently and looked around, taking in everything. �Sorry to barge in unannounced. So this is your new room?�

He nodded. �It�s a little lacking in comforts, but to tell you the truth, it�s an improvement overall I think.�

�Oh?�

�I don�t have to interact with the Dursleys.�

Tonks frowned. �They�ve locked you in here? How d�you eat?� Her eyes raked him. �You�ve lost weight since Hogwarts.�

Harry gestured at the cabinet that delivered his food. �They deliver my meals using the dumbwaiter over there.�

�Why didn�t you say anything?�

He frowned a little. �I said there were things I didn�t want to say via owl.�

Nymphadora Tonks sighed and sat where she stood, folding her legs into a tailor seat. �You�d think we�d know better by now. Harry... I didn�t come because of your request. I came to give you something from Dumbledore.�

Harry froze. �Dumbledore,� he repeated in an unhappy voice.

�Yep.� She proffered a letter, at least two sheets of parchment, from what he could see. He looked at it, not attempting to take it, breathing deeply to calm the surge of anger that welled up in him at mention of the Headmaster�s name. After a while Tonks asked, �Aren�t you going to take it?�

There was another long pause as Harry looked at the parchment. �Why should I?� he asked at length. �How can I trust him? I want to, but I�m not sure I can.�

Tonks� jaw dropped in stunned amazement. �Wh-what?�

�He�s kept me in the dark all this time. He all but abandoned me this past year, kept me away. He admitted he was part of the cause of Sirius� death.� Harry closed his eyes and continued, �Yes, of course I share the blame for his death, I did some really stupid things too.� His breath hitched, and he forced himself to continue. �But now, barely two weeks after promising to not keep any more secrets from me, I find that I�m being ignored and still kept in the dark!�

�Harry, it was Moody who vetoed your request for me to come, not Dumbledore. Albus never knew about your request.� She tossed the parchment so that it slid across the floor to stop at Harry�s feet. �Why don�t you read his letter and find out what he has to say? Maybe it�s worth reading,� she concluded softly.

After a long moment looking into her eyes, Harry looked down and picked up the letter. �I�m sorry, Tonks.�

�No, that�s okay, Harry. I don�t know the whole story, but I guess I�d like to. I�m certainly willing to listen if you have something to say.�

Harry said nothing, but at length he nodded. He then cracked the wax seal and opened the letter, which was an astonishing five sheets of parchment written in the Headmaster�s close, elegant hand in purple ink.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

July 6, 1996

Dear Harry,

I hope this letter finds you well. Your team of watchers (I�m sure you can guess who they are) tell me that you have reported no problems so far; I sincerely hope this is in fact the case. Nymphadora has agreed to hand-carry this letter to you since it contains information that I cannot afford to risk via owl post, and she will be able to give me a detailed report afterwards of your physical condition, mental state, and your treatment by the Dursleys.

Firstly, so far as I am aware there has been little to no activity by Voldemort and his cohorts. We of the Order feel that this is likely a consequence of losses suffered during the Ministry raid and the additional vigilance which has followed new public awareness of his existence. We can only hope that this comparatively happy state of affairs will continue, but alas, I suspect that might be wishful thinking.

Secondly, as I implied above the Ministry has finally acknowledged Voldemort�s return. While this is good in that at least the Order no longer needs to work in strictest secrecy and against the explicit opposition of the Ministry, it has had the expected side-effect of generating a flood of fan mail for you, Harry. You may have deduced that the main purpose of the wards around the Dursleys is to hide your presence from scrying spells and other spells of detection. This also prevents most people from sending you owl post. I assure you, Harry, that when you return to Hogwarts you will realise this is a good thing. Letters sent to you by people you do not know are redirected here � after all, everyone knows you attend Hogwarts � and Dobby tells me that so far he has received over 1,000 letters and has disposed of 28 �dangerous� letters or parcels: 23 abusive howlers and 5 charmed letters which posed a threat to health (3 blindness hexes, one skin ablation curse, and one permanent Confoundment curse). I would imagine the ordinary letters are approximately equal proportions abuse, adulation, conversation, fawning appeals, and marriage proposals, but these are being kept unopened for you to decide their fate.

Thirdly, you may recall I told you that I had withheld the position of Prefect from you because I felt you already had far too much to deal with. I hope that on reflection you have come to see, as I have, the irony of that decision given your involvement in DA. I wish more than anything else that I could award you a Prefect position for the coming year, but to do so would require removing Mr Weasley from his post and he has not done anything to warrant the disgrace that would follow such a move on my part. Furthermore, were I to put you in his place, I rather imagine he would resent you powerfully for that action. If he chooses to resign his position then we will re-visit the question, but for the moment I regret, I truly regret that I cannot make up for my earlier short-sightedness, particularly since I now feel that there is no better candidate in your year than yourself for the position of Head Boy in 1997-98.

With regards to Dumbledore�s Army, which I will henceforth refer to as D.A.: I am extremely proud of your achievements in leading D.A., Harry. In addition to the bravery, skill, and enterprise shown by you and your five friends in your visit to he Ministry, preliminary results from the Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL examinations suggest that D.A. members averaged at least one full grade level higher than the general student population. It seems that you have a future as a teacher amongst your many other talents. I was wondering if you would consider continuing D.A. next year in the guise of a formal club or association with staff support? I have not yet found a new Defence teacher, so I cannot make this offer definite, but at the moment, I would very much like you to continue offering that service to the school. We will discuss this further as the new school year draws closer. (Perhaps a name change might be in order, however. May I suggest the Defence Association?)

Next, you will no doubt be aware that the Weasleys have gone to Romania for the summer. While I did not organise this, it is a happy coincidence since it gets some vulnerable people out of harm�s way. I gather that Fred and George Weasley will stay on to run their newly-successful business, however.

Finally we come to the matter of this summer. You now know why it is necessary for you to spend the time that you do at the Dursleys, and I trust that you will tolerate your stay there for the time required. OWL will not be delivered to students until 21 July at the earliest, and I know that the Dursleys are not making you do outside chores, so perhaps you might consider spending at least some of the time this summer studying certain areas that will, I hope, help you to defeat Voldemort when the time comes (and, incidentally, survive other challenges that come up before that time). In addition to continuing to work on Occlumency, so that Voldemort cannot interfere with your general health and happiness via your scar � not with Professor Snape, I think; that was another well-intended mistake of mine � I feel that the time has come for you to start down the road of understanding that will begin the process of unlocking those gifts that should be, based on the history of your family, your birthright. I am not being deliberately condescending in making the above statement. The way the brain processes information changes as one grows towards adulthood; for example, it takes time for young people to learn to think in abstract ways. This is partly a question of practice and partly a question of hormonal development. But I feel that you may now be able to cope with what I propose.

I have secured Nymphadora Tonks� services for Hogwarts as part of an enhanced security program. If you agree, she will become your tutor and aide for the remainder of the summer. Aide, since she is not skilled in many of the things I would like you to learn, but her greater experience in magic and different point of view may help you past barriers you might not otherwise be able to overcome. Naturally, she can also tutor you in other subjects such as those covered by the standard school curriculum or the Auror Academy if you so desire. She would also install anti-detection wards so the two of you can perform magic without being bothered by the bureaucrats of the Ministry. I will tell you frankly, Harry, that as the closest in age to you of your watchers, she has also been chosen so that she might be able to help you through the mourning process for one who I know was almost as a father to you, your love for him was so great. I wish that I could be there to help you, for as I alluded to in our conversation after the Ministry, I love you like a favourite grandson. Alas it is not possible for me to be there, and I have chosen her to be my proxy in that regard.

I look forward to hearing your reply at your earliest convenience. Please send your reply with Nymphadora, not by owl. If you choose not to reply straight away, Nymphadora will return daily until you have a reply, yea or nay.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S.: Harry, please also tell Miss Tonks the names of any people with whom you expect to carry on a correspondence this summer. I plan to tighten the wards controlling owls around your house, but I wish to ensure that you are not cut off from your friends. I will ensure that owls from the people you nominate will still be able to get directly to you; other mail addressed to you which would ordinarily come to you (e.g.: from your classmates) will be hand-carried by your watchers.

P.P.S.: Please allow me to once again apologise for my errors, Harry. I know that our relationship has been damaged, and I can only hope that we can build a new and stronger bond between us, this time built from knowledge and fellowship rather than simply awe and assumption.

Harry put down the letter with a sigh and raised his head. �Thanks, Tonks. I�m glad you made me read it,� he said with a smile.

Tonks smiled back hopefully. �Good news, Harry?�

�You don�t know what�s in it?�

She shook her head. �Nope. He just gave it to me with that smile of his and the twinkling going full blast.�

�You don�t know what he has proposed for you, then?� Harry clarified, surprised.

Tonks raised her eyebrows. �Nope. Should I?�

Harry passed her the letter. �I don�t think there�s anything in there you shouldn�t know. Why don�t you read it?�

�Thanks,� said Tonks as she took the letter.

Harry thought over the Headmaster�s offer while Tonks worked her way through the very long letter. He found, however, that there was really nothing to think over. For a change, the old man had explained himself fully with uncharacteristic directness. For the first time in a while, Harry found himself thinking positively of Dumbledore and discovered that he had already decided to accept his offer.

At the sound of Tonks� snort Harry looked up with a smile. She was shaking her head and looking at him. �So... what�s it gonna be, Harry?� she asked.

�It�s not about me, Tonks. I�m going to study all summer regardless of what Dumbledore says.� He smiled wryly, adding, �His guidance would be useful, since he has so much more knowledge and experience than me, but that�s about as far as it goes for now. No, it�s about you. Are you willing to be stuck here all summer? With someone like me?�

Tonks stared at Harry in shock, then got up onto her knees and scrambled over to Harry. She grabbed him into a tight hug, pulling his head onto her collarbone. �Harry... it�s okay. You�re a worthy person, and really nice on top of that.� She stroked his hair. �Of course I want to do it, if you�re willing to have me. I really like you. Besides, maybe I�ll learn something from whatever it is that Dumbledore has in mind for you.�

Harry raised his arms to return her hug and he suddenly found himself choked up and his eyes wet for no apparent reason. Finally, after a couple of minutes, he let her go and tilted his head back. �Thank you, Tonks.�

She caught his eyes and after a long moment she said in a quiet, sincere voice, �You�re welcome, Harry.� She pushed him back suddenly and held him by his shoulders. �So, shall I tell him �yes�?�

Harry nodded. �Yes.� He briefly squeezed her waist then let her go. �Here, let me jot down a few names for you to give to him.�

Grabbing a quill and a small piece of parchment, Harry quickly wrote down �Hermione Granger� and �Luna Lovegood�. He paused then, considering. Tonks looked over his shoulder.

�Only girls, lover boy?� she asked with a quick poke in the ribs. �What about Ron?�

With a sigh, Harry nodded and quickly wrote �Ron Weasley� and �Ginny Weasley� as well, then after a pause he added �Neville Longbottom�. He considered adding Fried and George as well, but with a shake of his head decided that having Moody screen anything sent by the twins would be a good idea. Looking up, he said, �Ron�s been... distant, I guess. And he�s going to be spending his summer in Romania, so I was thinking that if his letters get delayed a day waiting it wouldn�t matter too much. But you�re right, I�d feel bad leaving him off, even though we haven�t exactly exchanged many letters this year.�

�Unlike these two?�

�Well, Luna�s been helping me deal with Sirius and I suppose my parents. And Hermione...� Tonks shuffled around so that Harry could see her and nodded.

�Yes, we�ve noticed that Hedwig has been rather busy.� Harry blushed a little and looked away.

�Yes, Hermione has... been there for me. I wonder if, maybe....�

�Maybe?�

Harry looked Tonks in the eyes. �Maybe. Of course, that�d just about kill my friendship with Ron �cause he�s had a crush on Hermione since the Yule ball in fourth year.� He put down his quill, folded the parchment and gave it to Tonks. �Better to err on the side of caution, I guess.�

Nodding, Tonks took the paper and tucked it away in her jeans. �So... what did you want to talk to me about when you wrote?� she asked suddenly.

Pausing to collect his thoughts, Harry considered. �Well, I guess this magic ward of Dumbledore�s makes the point kind of moot, but I wanted you to fix up the attic a bit with magic � you know, like make hot water available � and find a way of getting books and food to me without being detected. Maybe a bed, I guess, and a desk and a bookshelf. Glazed windows would be nice. Clean it up. That�s all.�

�Food?� Tonks frowned. �What�re they feeding you?�

�Half a grapefruit and dry toast for breakfast, a Marmite sandwich for lunch, and a sausage, some cheese, and an apple for dinner, usually. I get water from the tap, of course.� Harry sighed. �It�s not like I haven�t lived on that before, but Hogwarts has ruined me, Tonks. I�m just so hungry.�

�Well, I�m not surprised. That�s nowhere near enough for a growing boy... no wonder you�re short for your age.�

Harry looked at her in confusion. �Huh?� Tonks screwed up her brow in concentration.

�I�m not sure I can explain it. Maybe I can get you a book to read as well as some decent food.�

�If you say so,� said Harry, letting the subject drop. �But to tell you the truth all I really need is the wards, then I can do the rest myself I think.�

Hesitantly, Tonks nodded. �If you say so. I�m not sure how much I can help you right now, since any magic I do will be detected by the Misuse office and will be put down to your account, and Dumbledore doesn�t want more than the absolute minimum number of comings and goings.�

Harry nodded. �I can understand that.�

�Well, will you be okay tonight? I�ll come over tomorrow with everything we need to get started. Okay?�

�Okay,� Harry replied with a smile. �I�ll be fine tonight.�

�Good. And Harry?�

�Yeah?�

�I�m sorry for... earlier. You know, when you stripped off, but you know, you really caught me by surprise.�

Blushing, Harry nodded. �It�s okay, Tonks.�

�Usually it�s only my boyfriends I see like that. Besides,� added Tonks with a rakish grin, �from what I could see you don�t have anything to be ashamed of.� She skipped out of Harry�s range and the cuff he aimed at her arm missed. She broke into giggles, which soon had Harry snickering.

�See you later, Tonks,� said Harry as Tonks raised her wand above her head preparing to Disillusion herself.

�See you tomorrow, lover boy,� she replied just before disappearing from sight. Moments later a slight rustle signalled her departure out the open window. Harry stood where he was for a long moment, grinning in spite of himself.

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

7 July, 1996

Dear Miss Granger,

Thank you for expressing concern over Harry in your letter of 4 July, and for extending the invitation for him to spend the summer at your home.

Regrettably, it is not possible for Harry to leave the Dursleys at this time. I assure you that this is for his protection. Perhaps it will be possible later in the summer.

On a happier note, it is my pleasure to inform you � informally, of course � that based on preliminary grading data, you appear to have topped this year�s OWL scores for the British Isles. Congratulations, and I hope that you continue to excel in the future.

Sincerely,

A. Dumbledore

* * *

Harry weathered an unseasonably cold night, but bore it with fortitude, knowing that Tonks would return that day and make everything alright again. He sat up late writing letters to both Hermione and Luna, sending them off with Hedwig before curling up beneath his winter cloak on his thin mattress. He wasn�t actually cold as such � clothing designed to keep one warm even in winter at Hogwarts ensured that would never happen � but the continuous breezes of his well-ventilated attic home, whether warm or cold, were beginning to wear upon him. More than once he had been forced to chase after sheets of parchment as they skittered across the floor to fetch up against the edge of the roof where they were almost impossible to reach.

Today the weather warmed quickly, the sun shining from a mostly clear, blue sky. The dark shingles of the roof heated quickly and soon Harry was dressed in shorts and one of Dudley�s cast-off tee-shirts as the attic rapidly became sweltering, despite the mild temperatures outside.

Lunch was, unusually, a hunk of cold roast beef, some cheese, and an old banana.

It was almost dinner-time by the time Tonks returned. Harry had refrained from exercising in the nude as he had become accustomed to, since he had no way of knowing when she would return. He had hurried his shower before spending the afternoon paging through some of the books he had received for his birthdays over the years.

The sound of light steps drew his attention to the open window. Tonks shimmered into view, to one side of the dormer. Harry smiled at the sight of her � today her hair was bright cyan � and opened his mouth to greet her but she held her finger up to her lips and he fell silent even before he had truly made a noise. Fascinated, he watched as she shrugged off a backpack and drew from within it six wooden blocks, each shaped like a triangular prism. These she placed one at each corner of the attic floor and, floating upon what Harry presumed was an invisible broom, one at each end of the peak of the roof. Finally, a squat pyramid of what appeared to be obsidian went right next to the electric light. Tonks tapped it with her wand and Harry thought he saw a brief shimmering out of the corner of his eye which covered the floor, the gable walls, and the interior of the roof.

Settling to the floor next to the closed stairway hatch, Tonks put the knapsack down on the folded staircase and grinned. �Wotcher, Harry!� she said in a normal voice.

Standing to greet her, Harry asked hesitantly, �It�s okay to talk now?�

�Yup!� replied Tonks. She reached down and groped for a bit, then touched her wand to something. A broom shimmered into view. �Say hello to your new flatmate. Got a bed for me?� She grinned at the blush that spread across Harry�s cheeks then bustled about, pulling items from the knapsack and stacking them to one side. When she had a pile of shrunken items about two feet high she stopped and looked again at Harry. He was staring at her. �Harry?�

Harry shook himself and focussed on Tonks. �I�m sorry?�

�Come over here, there are some charms to do to make this place liveable and I thought you might like to do them. The wards are now in place so we can use magic without getting you in trouble.�

�Can I?� asked Harry hesitantly. �I don�t know anything about the kind of charms you�re talking about, Tonks. Except for undoing the shrinking and lightening charms, of course.�

�Sure you do, Harry. You just don�t know that you do. It�s easy. Here, bring your wand over here and I�ll show you what I mean.�

Late that night, Harry lay in his comfortable bed filled with a glow of accomplishment. Tonks had used magic only to create training object for him, but all the actual work of making the attic a place to live and study had been done by Harry himself. The attic space itself was now at least sixty feet long and thirty feet wide, and vertical walls had been �inserted� making it more like a small church in proportion. The bathing area had been enclosed by a wall and now featured a deep tub large enough for six as well as a luxurious tiled shower area and a separate toilet. A double-sided fireplace faced into the living area which was located next to the bathroom. The rear of this fireplace faced into the bathroom, even though it was unlikely they would need it during the next few weeks. Tonks had said something about needing practice and doing a job properly when she had made him do it that way.

The living area was a quartet of deep armchairs and a couch which faced the fire, and on either side of that were the sleeping areas, one for Tonks and one for Harry. A bed cloned from Harry�s memory of the Gryffindor dormitories resided against each wall, together with a chest of drawers and a wardrobe for clothes and effects. Rugs decorated the floors in tasteful colours.

Further into the room, there was a massive yellow pine kitchen table which defined the main kitchen area which started at the centre of the room and flowed over to the wall on Tonks� side of the attic. A low cabinet divided that area from the remainder of the attic space, which was left empty except for the now forlorn-looking dumbwaiter cabinet that rested like a wart at the base of the now enormous gable wall. On the other side of the attic was the study. Four massive bookcases half-filled with books that Tonks had brought with her, a large library table, chairs, and two writing desks defined this area.

Except for the bathroom and toilet, the entire area was open plan. �I prefer it that way,� said Tonks when he asked her about walls. �Besides, don�t you prefer the feeling of a large space rather than a closed-in room?�

Harry hesitated to reply. �Er, what about....�

�About?� prompted Tonks.

�What about... privacy?�

Tonks chuckled briefly. �Oh, is that all,� she said. She stepped in front of him and took his shoulders in her hands. �Harry,� she said seriously, �I�ve already seen everything you have to show... through no fault of yours, of course! So if you get changed in my view � even if we share that big tub � it�s not going to bother me.� Tonks smiled impishly, continuing, �As for me, I don�t see why you can�t see mine now that I�ve seen yours. And it�s not like you�re going to take advantage of me, Harry. Not only are you honourable to a fault, and would never contemplate that, but believe me when I tell you that you wouldn�t succeed even if you did try and force yourself upon me. Auror training is more than just magic, you know.�

Harry felt his face heat, he felt as though he must be cherry-red. �But... what if I... err...� He gestured in the direction of his groin and it was Tonks� turn to flush a delicate pink.

Looking into his eyes, she said, �It�s nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. It�s a normal part of life, and as long as you don�t flaunt it, it�s not a problem for me.� She moved into a hug, and lowered her voice to murmur into his ear. �To tell you the honest truth, Harry, it�s rather exciting for a girl when a boy you like shows that kind of honest excitement over you. It�s a kind of power, and flattering, and nice.� She pulled back again and looked him in the eyes once more, her expression now serious. �But only if it�s honest... and usually only if it�s someone you trust... someone you know or like, or both. Boys who want to use a girl, who try to deceive, who are perverted or bad or... that�s bad. Do you know what I mean?�

Harry shook his head in confusion, his eyes wide.

�Maybe if I give you some examples,� Tonks said, her cheeks pinking once more. �Guys who force themselves on girls, that�s bad. Guys who go out of their way to expose themselves to others, that�s bad. But in consensual activity, anything is good. For example, if we�re sharing the tub, or I�m in front of the mirror in the bathroom and you�re showering and you get an erection, that�s fine. If you then stand up in the tub and thrust it in my face... that�s bad, unless I�ve asked you to. Do you understand now?�

�Yes, Tonks, I think so.�

�Good!� Tonks grinned again, bringing back the jovial mood. After a moment, though, her expression became concerned. �Oh, Merlin! Here I�ve been thinking that the person you�re concerned about here is me, not you. I don�t have a problem with you seeing me or with seeing you. But I�ve forgotten to ask you. Do you have a problem with me seeing you, or with seeing me? I�m so sorry. I forgot that teenagers can be very private.�

Grinning at her obvious remorse, Harry shook his head. �No, Tonks. I don�t have a problem with it.� He looked to one side, blushing again. �Although if you hadn�t caught me in the altogether like you did, I think my answer would be different. I�m not a... what did Seamus call it... an ex... exhi....�

�Exhibitionist?�

�That�s the word.� He sighed. �It�s weird, you know. If I didn�t know better I�d assume that it�s you who�s the exhibitionist. I mean, offering to bathe with a teenage boy? Really, Mrs Weasley would be shocked.�

Tonks grinned at Harry, her eyes twinkling. �Who says I�m not? And who says I don�t want to look at a rather handsome and well-put-together teenage boy? I�m not that much older than you, Harry. I might be out to catch you.�

Harry shivered as he recalled the thrill that had raced through him at Tonks� teasing tone. Somehow he had known that their conversation had become a kind of escalating battle, and for all that he generally sucked at chess, he had somehow managed to reply. Putting a thoughtful finger to his chin, he had said, �Hmm... Nymphadora Tonks, Luna Lovegood, or Hermione Granger. Who should I choose?�

Tonks gasped at him, her eyes wide, and they broken down in mutual laughter. It felt good, really good, to just laugh with no darkness or worry overshadowing his mood.

2. At Home With Tonks

The Time of Change
Chapter 2: At Home With Tonks

by Olafr (olafr@iinet.net.au)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13 (so far)

Last updated: 25 February 2004.

Author’s Notes: Revision 6: Incorporation of beta comments. Large changes to Tonks’ & Harry’s characterisation & speech. Numerous grammar & word choice fixes. Minor plot variations. Fixes for two contradictions of canon.

Once again, huge thanks to my beta-readers Nosila and Sarah Mandisa. It was they who picked over the first version and delivered it, whimpering and dripping red ink like blood, back to my door. I think the story is much better for their input, and I really appreciate it. Thank you, girls.
Chapter 2: At Home With Tonks
It seemed to Harry that he had barely fallen asleep when the covers were jerked back. ‘Wakey, wakey, hands off snakey!’ carolled Tonks. Harry cracked open his eyes to see Tonks standing near the foot of his bed, one hand holding the corner of his covers and the other on her hip. She wore a plain black tee-shirt and loose shorts. For some reason her hair was short and a kind of yellow-blonde, her eyebrows were dark, her skin slightly tan and her nose was finely-sculpted and small. Harry rather thought the look suited her. He sat up.

‘What did you say?’

‘I told you to get up,’ she said with a wide grin. Harry shook his head.

‘What time is it?’ he mumbled, stretching.

‘Time for your morning exercises!’ said Tonks enthusiastically. She paused to grin again, then continued, ‘You’ve gotta do more than just isometrics if we’re going to get you all buff for Hermione.’

Harry blushed lightly but swung his legs over the bed. He briefly considered asking what isometrics were but dismissed the question as too hard for his current fuzzy-minded state. ‘So what’s today’s timetable, then?’ he asked as he took off his pyjama top. He hunted in his drawers for shorts and a tee-shirt, slid off his pyjama bottoms leaving himself dressed only in boxers, then quickly dressed. Somehow he didn’t feel embarrassed at Tonks’ presence, although when he realised this fact he sternly told himself not to think about it. She felt like one of his dorm-mates.

‘Exercise, breakfast and shower, then I’m going to teach you relaxation and meditation!’ replied Tonks with a grin.

‘Meditation?’

‘It’s to help you clear your mind and find your centre,’ she added at his befuddled look. When Harry remained confused, she added in a rush, ‘Look, I’ll explain when we do it.

‘Then, depending on how we’re going for time we’ll do some work on your shields and general awareness, followed by lunch. After lunch we’ll see what Dumbledore wants you to learn. When you’re thoroughly sick of that we’ll have another exercise session, then tea, then we’ll see what your duelling is like. When that’s done I’ll send you to the showers again, then I guess you’ll want to read or do some letter writing or something before bed. How’s that sound, lover boy?’

Nodding, his head clearer but still not completely switched on, Harry asked, ‘Are we gonna do that every day?’

Tonks shrugged. ‘Depends. You’re gonna do two exercise sessions and some other kind of strenuous activity every day. Other than that? Up to you, Harry. You’re not a swot, are you? Dumbledore told me to make sure you spend at least some time each day just plain living. All work and no play makes Harry a dull lover boy!’

Harry pulled a face. ‘If you keep calling me that I might just have to find a nickname for you, you know.’

Tonks grinned. ‘Ooh, widdle Tonksie is scaaared! Come on, lover boy, follow me.’ With that she turned, tripped over her feet, and fell flat on her face.

‘That looks painful. Do I have to?’

* * *

‘Oof, I’m full. Why do I have to eat so much, Tonks?’ complained Harry as he sat back in his chair at the kitchen table, the wreckage of a substantial lunch spread out before him. ‘I don’t want to end up like Dudley the Blob.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Harry,’ said Tonks with a wave of her hand. ‘You need to put on weight. You’re too thin! Just wait till you get into the exercise program I’ve got planned for you,’ she said with a snicker. ‘You’re gonna be so hungry once we get you up to speed. The right foods’ll help your body build itself up. I learned about this from one of my instructors in the Academy, you know. Not part of the course, but kind of after hours, we used to play cards and stuff. Anyway, if you just trust me to feed you properly, I think you’ll like the results.’ Tonks wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and smirked.

Harry blushed at Tonks’ playfulness but ignored it and nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘You did well on your shields this morning.’

He nodded, ducking his head and blushing a little. ‘Thanks,’ he said with a modest smile. ‘I was more interested in the, um, meditation exercises we did. You know they had me learning Occlumency last year to try and keep Voldemort out of my mind?’ Tonks nodded mutely, and Harry continued, ‘Snape would just say, “clear your mind!” and barge in, not a word of how to do it. I couldn’t do it well enough, Voldemort found out about the link between us and used it to feed me lies and... in the end, he almost possessed me.’ His breath hitched, but he forced himself to continue. ‘Sirius died, you were put in hospital, the others were injured too. Ron, Ginny... Hermione....’ He closed his eyes and suppressed the mixture of sadness, anger, and regret he felt rising. ‘What you told me about meditation, it sounded just like what I’m supposed to do for Occlumency, even if I didn’t get it the first time.... Why?!’ He thumped the table with his fist, scowling angrily. ‘Why didn’t that bastard teach me that when it could have, it may have, helped keep Voldemort out of my head?’ Thumping the table again, Harry was unable to control the tide of emotion and he bowed his head as hot tears leaked from his clenched-shut eyes.

Tonks stepped forward and pulled him into an embrace, Harry’s head resting on her stomach as she stood by his chair. Her smell filled his senses and he felt himself begin to calm in her warm embrace. At length, Harry pulled back and Tonks squatted next to him, wearing a serious, concerned expression.

‘Harry, I don’t know Occlumency so I can’t answer your question. Maybe if you ask Dumbledore he’ll be able to answer. What if there was a good reason?’ Tonks wriggled in her squat, trying not to lose her balance. She started to fall backwards but stopped herself by grabbing onto Harry’s chair. She grinned at him ruefully. ‘Snape’s a bastard, but he hates You-Know-Who with a passion. I’m sure he wouldn’t have sabotaged your learning of a vital skill simply to spite you.’

‘Voldemort,’ said Harry, watching Tonks carefully. She flinched, just barely. ‘Call him Voldemort... or, since he’s no more a Lord than I am, call him by his name, Tom Riddle.’

Tonks stared at him in confusion. She wobbled again, and moved to sit in the seat next to him. It scraped loudly on the floor as she sat in it. ‘What?’

‘Voldemort is just the letters of his name rearranged.’

‘Huh?’

‘Tom Marvolo Riddle. “I am Lord Voldemort.” He was a student at Hogwarts when Dumbledore was a teacher.’

‘Huh.’ She shook her head. ‘Let’s not get off the subject, Harry. I want to go through an exercise I learned at the Academy with you. It’s called motivational analysis. Okay?’

‘We’re going to try and analyse someone’s motives?’ asked Harry. Tonks nodded.

‘That’s right. Um... Occlumency is the protection of the mind against invasion, right?’

‘And against thought reading, Legilimency, yes,’ he replied in a distracted manner.

Tonks nodded, frowning in thought. ‘The reason to teach you an obscure and advanced art like that is because You-Know-Who is a Legilimencer? Is that right?’

‘Yes.’ Harry swallowed, adding, ‘My scar gives me a direct connection to him... to his mind. I’ve had visions, where I’ve seen through his eyes, spoken with his voice. When I’m near him it burns, it feels like a hot iron being applied to my head. And when he tortures people in my visions, I... I kind of feel it, too.’ He shivered, wrapping his arms about himself.

Tonks goggled at him, but then shook her head and continued. ‘Well, that just makes it all the more important that you learn to protect yourself, Harry!’ She slapped his shoulder and grinned while Harry stared at her in disbelief. She blinked, then removed her smile by running her hand downwards over her face. ‘So, seriously now, what do you know that we can’t afford to have You-Know-Who learn?’

‘Well, the prophecy of course.’

She shook her head, waving one hand in denial. He had hardly ever seen her like this. Her eyes had an intensity he had rarely seen in anyone, and her mien was completely series. ‘No, no. When it was decided to teach you Occlumency. What did you know then that posed a risk to others? The Order, or even just Snape himself?’

Harry frowned more deeply, pondering. ‘Well, let me see... Dumbledore said he couldn’t let Voldemort discover the love he holds for me... but I didn’t know that then.’ He blushed, but continued. ‘There’s Hermione... and everyone else of course!’ he added hurriedly. ‘But that couldn’t be it, they’ve always been my friends. What else...’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t see it.’

Tonks smiled internally at Harry’s slip, but kept a straight face and continued. ‘We’re trying to work out why Snape reacted as he did. Did you know, then, that Snape was a spy for the Order?’

‘Yes.’

‘You were learning Occlumency from Snape so he must be accomplished in that art as well as Legilimency. We, meaning the Order, know that You-Know-Who is a Legilimencer, and so of course any spy in the Death Eaters would have to be a sufficiently skilled Occlumens that You-Know-Who wouldn’t be able to tell that he was hiding anything. With me so far?’ At Harry’s nod, she continued. ‘If Snape knew that you knew he was a spy, he would see you as an unprotected storehouse of information. Information that, if discovered, would almost certainly lead to his torture and/or death. And if he knew about the connection between you and You-Know-Who he would no doubt presume that, er, You-Know-Who would have free access into your mind, should he become aware of it.’

Harry gasped as understanding burst upon him. Suddenly he had a clear picture of what he thought Tonks was driving at. Memories flashed across his mind’s eye, almost too quickly for recognition, recalling his interactions with Snape throughout the year. ‘Oh my God! No wonder he was so awful... he was desperate!’ he cried in disbelief, the words tumbling out of his mouth. ‘When I couldn’t do it, all he could see was Voldemort gaining access to his deepest-held secrets through me! And when I Legilimenced from him... he broke off the training because of the risk I would get still more information to pass on to Voldemort!!’ Harry paused, his eyes distant. ‘No wonder he’s always been so nasty to me despite saving my life several times! Oh my God,’ repeated Harry in horror. ‘What must he think of me?!’

‘That’s great, Harry!’ cried Tonks enthusiastically with a big grin. ‘You’re beginning to get the idea, I think.’ Then her face cleared again, once again serious. ‘But Harry... don’t jump to conclusions. It’s very important. We think we might know why he broke off Occlumency, but that doesn’t tell us anything about how he treated you before then.’

Brought to a halt by Tonks words, Harry considered Tonks’ words. His face burned as he thought about how stupid he must have just sounded. ‘I guess.’

Tonks grinned at him, seeming to read his mind. ‘You were doing great until the “always so nasty” part, kiddo.’ She schooled her expression again into what Harry was coming to think of as her lecturing face.

‘Harry, motivational analysis is useful but you need to learn its limits, too. There’s never just one thing. People are complex. The reasons they do things change. It takes years to learn to do this well. I’m only a beginner; I’m not that much older than you, after all.’ She grinned and poked him in the ribs with one finger. Harry jumped, trying to get away from the probing digit. ‘So it’s not all your fault. He might still be an utter bastard – in fact in my experience he is an utter bastard, hard and bitter. But I think now you see why, from your point of view, he was apparently able to disobey orders from Dumbledore who was his superior both as his Headmaster and as Head of the Order, and a possible reason why it was that his resentment of you reached new heights this year.’ She watched the expressions across his face and as he calmed moved to hold him in front of her at arm’s length. ‘Harry. Since we’re being so serious and all right now, here’s something else I think I’ll drop on you now to get it out of the way.’

He looked up, now nervous. ‘What is it?’

Tonks leaned forward and took his hands. ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, Harry. Just sit and listen until I’m finished, okay?’ Wide-eyed, dreading the worst, Harry nodded mutely. ‘Harry, you’re a really nice guy and I like you a whole lot. You’re generous and love your friends deeply, and you’re not afraid to do what’s right. But there’s an important thing you’ve been missing, and I’d like you to try and learn how to do it.’ She stopped, and swallowed at Harry’s worried look. She smiled reassuringly and squeezed his hands. ‘You haven’t seemed to be able to understand someone else’s point of view; you know, put yourself in their shoes to understand why it is that they might act the way they do. The kind of thing we were just talking about. But Harry, doing that kind of thing is a really important just getting along with others. Sure, lots of adults never learn to do it, but most people don’t like people like that very much.’ She winced at her inadvertent verbal misstep and took a deep breath, sighing. ‘Snape called you self-centred. And he was right, Harry.’

Smiling at Harry again and looking him in the eyes, Tonks continued. ‘Hopefully now that I’ve shown you how to do it – well, one way, anyway – you’ll continue to practice until it becomes automatic, instinctive. If you can make a habit of thinking like that, asking yourself why somebody does something and thinking about how they’ll react, you’ll have a really useful skill for later on in life. Other things follow, too. You’ll be an even nicer guy. Plus,’ she added with a gamine grin, ‘I think I might end up liking you even more than I do now.’ She leaned forward and took him into a hug, this time kissing him on the cheek.

Harry returned the hug but his attention was wholly taken by his whirling mind. A storm of thoughts too fragmentary to identify whirled about his head. He felt a combination of amazement and self-recrimination that buffeted him as he looked unseeing at the far wall of the attic. He didn’t break out of his reverie until Tonks squeezed him again in preparation to letting him go. ‘Harry?’ she asked. He pulled back and looked her in the eyes.

‘Thank you, Tonks,’ he said quietly. ‘Thanks for teaching me a valuable lesson. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been.’ He continued, muttering to himself, ‘And I thought Ron was such a prat. He’s got nothing on me.’

‘Don’t shop yourself, Harry,’ said Tonks with a snort, still smiling. ‘You’ve got nothing on Ron when it comes to that.’ She giggled at the surprise on his face, squeezed his hands once more, got up from the table and went to her seemingly endless knapsack. After rummaging in it for a bit, she came back with a letter addressed to Harry in Dumbledore’s familiar writing. ‘You should sleep on it, Harry. Sort out your thoughts.’ She proffered the letter to him, switching out of serious mode again as though a switch had been flipped. ‘Here, why don’t you read this. It’s from the Dumble-man.’

7 July, 1996

Dear Harry,

Thank you for placing sufficient trust in an old man to at least try his suggestions. Before I list what I feel you should study, perhaps I should take a moment to explain what I believe to be your birthright. (I had hoped to share this with you that night we returned from the Ministry, but alas, we didn’t get that far.) Based on my research into your ancestors and extended family, both living and dead, I feel safe in believing that you are one of the gifted few who can sense magic in its raw form. To date, this seems to have manifested itself in your instinctive ability to do some things – for example, your use of a broom – and in your somewhat uneven ability to perform ‘ordinary’ magic. By this I mean that you have demonstrated skill far beyond your years in performing truly advanced charms, such as the Patronus, yet sometimes have difficulty mastering some of the basic (by comparison) charms of the regular school curriculum.

If my belief is true, then the reason this is so is that your magic senses are starting to give you information that conflicts with your knowledge and what you can see. You are most likely not yet consciously aware of this. However the conflict causes your magic to choke itself, so to speak. You cannot focus properly and so your magic is not focussed.

You should have guessed by now that what I intend is that you regain your focus by learning to be consciously aware of what you currently sense only subconsciously. This will mostly be done with Tonks’ aid, and I have briefed her on a program that should help. However, you will also need to learn enough about the principles of magic that you can re-formulate the spells of the remaining two years’ curriculum (as well as the last five) into terms that make sense to you. To understand why this is necessary, perhaps you might consider an analogy: If you learn to do something by touch, can you still do it as easily when you open your eyes? For most people, the answer is ‘not always’.

Alas, both learning your senses and acquiring the knowledge you need to use them will require hard work, knowledge, and application. I feel certain, however, with the assistance of Miss Tonks, that you will make great strides in achieving your birthright over this summer.

Specific items I suggest that you study include:

Meditation and visualisation (as tutored by Miss Tonks), plus related items.

The principles of magic (e.g. The Principles of Magic by Daedelus Tomkins; The Way of Things by Methodias Lerner)

Learning to exploit your senses (e.g. Sensing the Insensible by A.G. Silver; Powers of the Ancients by Ignatius Jones; A Study of the Sensoira Magis by William Evans)

The actual composition of ‘ordinary’ spells (A Component-based Taxonomy of Common Magic by Felonius Black; Real Magic by Georgina S. Diggle; The Annals of the Wizengamot Internal Spell Antecedent Research and Development Society; standard spell references such as The Standard Book of Spells Grades 1-7)

You will find all of the above, as well as other works chosen for their potential to assist your understanding, in the selection of volumes I sent with Miss Tonks. I urge you to take full advantage of them during the summer. I’m sure you will find other useful and interesting areas of investigation in the material contained therein.

The main disadvantage of being the way you are, Harry, is that you must know at least in general terms how things work in order to make things happen. Eventually your senses will develop to the point that you can gain understanding by directly observing the environment around you, but until that time you should therefore also undertake wide reading in general knowledge, both magical and Muggle. While this is not something that you will need to do immediately, you should keep it in mind for the future.

Finally, let me point out the obvious: by being as open with you as I am, I am giving you information that could be used by the enemy against us. I am placing considerable trust in you. I do not think that you will spread about that which you learn from me – I most certainly trust you to keep your own counsel in that regard – but I hope you will agree that it is vitally important that you continue to improve in Occlumency to the point that it becomes automatic and continuous for you. I have not yet settled on an alternate method for achieving this. Perhaps you might have suggestions.

Please do not hesitate to write me regarding any subject at all, public or private. I will undertake to either answer you fully, or tell you why I cannot share that knowledge with you. Please do me the favour of not committing such letters to Owl post, however; if you instead give them to Alastor Moody he will ensure they reach my hands securely.

Good luck in your endeavours. I know you can do it.

Albus Dumbledore

Putting the letter on the tabletop, Harry wandered over to the partially-stocked bookshelves. The books had been in the shrunken boxes and trunks that Tonks had pulled out of her knapsack yesterday. He was shocked at how many there were. As he browsed the titles Harry saw that not only were the books Dumbledore had mentioned present, but also many others. They covered a wide range of subjects. One prominent group of books were thick, mostly identical volumes... ‘Annals of W.I.S.A.R.D.S.’, each with a different year on the spine. He smirked briefly at the title, wondering if the name of the society had been chosen simply for the sake of the spiffy acronym. As he browsed, he noticed a number of tempting titles, such as Charming Brooms, and Magical Parchment, and even My Life as a Hare: Studies and Anecdotes in the Art of the Animagus. His fingers itched, wanting to yank the books from the shelves and begin reading.

But first, he had a letter to write. No, two letters, even if one was going to turn his stomach. And a security charm or two to learn.

* * *

In the office of Albus Dumbledore, two men sat in front of a warming fire. A nearby window let in the dusty orange-gold light of the setting sun, illuminating the office in warm colours. The summer sun was still up even though it was after dinnertime, but the day had never been very warm.

Severus Snape and Dumbledore sat in comfortable, wing-back chairs before the fire. A brandy snifter with a skim of dark caramel-coloured liquid in its bottom sat by Snape’s right hand on an occasional table; a large mug with what appeared to be hot chocolate sat to Dumbledore’s left.

Their conversation was interrupted by the flames turning green. The head of Alastor Moody appeared in the verdant, now heatless flames. ‘Dumbledore,’ he said. ‘Letter for you. From the boy.’

Dumbledore leaned forward and took the thick packet from Moody’s hand. His senses tingled as he touched the envelope – it was heavy with magic. ‘How are things there? All quiet?’

Moody nodded. ‘Yes, nothing unusual. That fat boy was causing trouble with his little gang but there’s been no sign of Potter. I adjusted the wards as you asked late this afternoon.’

‘Good, good. Has there been any sign of magic emissions from the house? Any magical activity or persons?’

‘No, nothing.’

‘Good. Was there anything else, Alastor?’

‘No. Tomorrow, then.’

‘Thank you, Alastor.’

The flames returned to normal with the disappearance of Moody’s grizzled, green head. Dumbledore turned the letter over in his hands, inspecting it, before finally cracking the seal. A brief sparkle betrayed the breaking of a charm. He withdrew the contents of the envelope. There were three sheets: Two being a letter to him from Harry, the other an apparently blank sheet of parchment bearing only the legend ‘Severus Snape’. His eyebrows reaching for his hairline, Dumbledore waved a hand over the blank parchment which stubbornly remained blank.

‘Well, well,’ he mused to himself. He looked over his glasses at Snape. ‘Here, Severus, this would appear to be for you.’

Snape leaned forward, his expression schooled to evenness. He took the parchment from Dumbledore. Potter’s untrained, uneven handwriting swam into view as he touched it. He raised an eyebrow before settling back into his chair to read.

Dear Professor Snape,

I wish to apologise for my attitude and actions towards you during the last year. I have been thinking about what happened. I invaded your privacy, and I am very sorry.

You may know that Professor Dumbledore is being more open with me. He has made me realise how important it is that I master Occlumency fully. Therefore I wish to ask your advice as a master Occlumens.

I believe you know where I stay over summer. Tonks has told me that magical people are permitted here only if absolutely necessary. Also, through our previous sessions, I know that the teacher of Occlumency will see the student’s memories, and so must be trusted. Knowing what I know, my question is, whom can I ask to tutor me in Occlumency? The only people I can think of are yourself and Professor Dumbledore. Given last year, can you recommend a suitable alternative tutor?

If no suitable alternative is available, I must ask you if you will please resume teaching me. I promise to work with you to the best of my ability. I hope that is sufficient for you, for I can make no stronger commitment.

I look forward eagerly to any suggestions you may have.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter.

P.S.: I hope you approve of the security charm on this letter. If not, information as to how to improve would be welcome. I did the best that I could figure out how, but I most certainly do not know it all.

Snape frowned mightily at the letter. Potter’s words rang with sincerity, and he stifled his first impulse, which was to simply throw it into the fire in a fit of pique.

‘My letter was both surprising and welcome,’ said Dumbledore. ‘How about yours, Severus?’

‘He apologised, and asked for advice,’ Snape found himself saying. He had planned to say, Potter apologised for his conduct and asked for advice about Occlumency, but he had not been able to bring himself to say any of the key words. His eyes widened in spite of himself, and he waved his hand over the parchment as Dumbledore had done. The wordless scan revealed the presence of a truly crafty security charm. ‘Great Merlin.’

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. ‘Harry said that you would need to be prompted. He asked me to tell you that he mentioned his conduct last year, and Occlumency.’

‘Yes, he asked me to advise him as to how he could improve his Occlumency given the... restrictions that exist around him,’ said Snape. His mouth twisted – once again he had not been able to say what he intended. His eyes drifted to the letter once more before returning to Dumbledore. ‘And where on Earth did Potter learn to do that?’

‘Books on security and parchment charms were included in the package I sent with Nymphadora. I see he has found them, read at least critical portions of them, and in spite of his handicap has managed to cast and merge a particularly interesting combination of moderately advanced charms.’ Dumbledore paused, looking Snape in the eyes. ‘I was not able to read your letter, and I had to use special techniques to determine what Harry had done. I am not at all certain that I could break the particular combination he used on your letter without destroying it. You will likely also find that you cannot read the letter aloud or transcribe it.’

‘Is the combination of charms used standard Auror practice?’ Snape asked curiously. Dumbledore shook his head.

‘No. I rather suspect that using advice from Nymphadora as a starting point, Harry did some quick research in the right book and was able to execute the charms. From a technical point of view he did not get the mix quite right – had he used a similar combination on my letter, we would have had difficulty discussing him at all – but the very fact that he did not means that he is at least somewhat aware of the shortcomings of that particular charm set. I suspect he went all-out on your letter to impress you, presumably of his sincerity, whereas he used a different charm set on my letter that was no less secure but depended on the fact that the envelope was addressed to me.’ Dumbledore looked into the fire, one hand wrapped around his mug. ‘I wonder what Nymphadora said and did to him? Harry as he was only two weeks ago could not have done this. I rather suspect that Mr Potter has had an epiphany and is forever changed.’

Silence reigned for a long moment, broken only by the crackling of the fire. The sunlight drifted up the Headmaster’s wall and was dimming towards a red-pink colour. At length, Snape said, ‘His analysis of possible candidates for Occlumency tutors was exactly correct, for exactly the right reasons. I most certainly would have not thought him capable of such perception,’ he finished condescendingly.

‘If what has happened is what I suspect, Harry is likely seeing the world in a whole new light. You may wish to keep that in mind when dealing with him, Severus. As for Occlumency, he is learning meditation as a starting point for developing his senses. This will have the beneficial side effect of making him familiar with the feeling of having a calm mind. Even though we both know that mediation itself is useless in the practise of Occlumency, I feel that it can only help Harry. I rather suspect that Mr Potter has had a more difficult life than even I feared, as closely as I observed him. I fear that he has not previously known what it is to be relaxed and at ease.’

Snape suppressed the urge to object to Dumbledore’s analysis, recalling instead memories gleaned from Potter’s mind during the last school year. Fear, doubt, worry, threat, determination, nervousness... there was precious little joy except in Quidditch and no simple relaxation that he could see. Sipping at the remainder of his brandy, Severus Snape contemplated the possibility that Potter’s life was, in its way, almost as hellish as his own, particularly now that The Dark Lord was actively seeking him almost full-time now, and the boy dare not poke his head outside scrying barriers for more than a few minutes at a time.

* * *

Harry turned over in his bed, rustling the duvet cover loudly, frustrated at being unable to sleep. Conflicting thoughts of Snape ran around in his head as he helplessly reviewed his many encounters with the man, both this past year and in previous years. He was unable to form a consistent view of the man – often nasty, yes; the events of this year did not change that. But why was he nasty? Why did he treat the Gryffindor and Slytherin students so differently? He must know he was doing it, why? Tonks had told him that meditation would help him clear his mind, once he mastered it. Why had Snape not even bothered to tell him about it, let alone teach him? The approach he had taken seemed almost... sadistic, he thought; it seemed as though he simply attacked and let Harry sort out for himself how to defend. Other than that simple instruction – “clear you mind!” – he had been on his own with no idea of how to arrive at a solution. He punched a pillow in frustration and turned over heavily by arching his body so only his feet and shoulders touched the bed, then flipping and falling back onto the mattress.

The quick, quiet slap of bare feet made him feel guilty. He looked up as Tonks sat on the edge of his bed, a black shadow against the all-but-black room. ‘I’m sorry, Tonks,’ he said quietly.

Tonks reached out and touched his forehead. ‘Are you okay, Harry? What’s wrong?’

‘Thinking about Snape.’

‘Oh. What about him?’

Harry paused to collect his thoughts. ‘I accept that he bears a grudge against my father. I accept that he sees me as a risk. But I just can’t understand why he’s such an utter bastard in the classroom, why he’s so biased. It’s not even all me, since he does it Hermione and Neville and Ron, and to the other classes of Gryffindors as well, and he did it before I ever came on the scene.’

Tonks was silent, then shoved him on the shoulder. ‘Budge over, I’m cold.’ Harry moved over into a cool part of the bed while Tonks slipped in behind him. He turned over and faced her, waiting for her to speak. ‘I can’t shed any light on Snape, Harry. I’m not an all-knowing oracle or a seer. But....’ She paused.

‘But?’

‘Well, just because you’re smart or accomplished doesn’t mean that you’re any good at teaching. Especially with younger children. Teaching is something that lots of people just can’t come to grips with. I hear you’re pretty good at it though, lover boy,’ she finished with a happy voice. Harry returned the smile that he could not see. For a time she was quiet, and when she resumed speaking, her voice was contemplative.

‘There was a guest teacher while I was at the Academy, they brought him in to try and teach us deductive reasoning.’ She paused, snorting, then continued scathingly, ‘He was one of the most brilliant men I’ve ever met, but he was utterly useless. Either he’d forgotten his time as a student, or I guess maybe...’ She fell silent, and eventually Harry prompted her.

‘Maybe?’ he asked curiously.

‘I just had a thought. Something I read while I was at the Academy... there are people who just leap to correct conclusions. According to what I remember, the solution just appears to them. Yeah, maybe that was it.’ She paused, hmming a bit, then continued. ‘Anyway, let me think now. Oh yeah... people like that are often terribly intelligent, but they get frustrated when you can’t see things like they do. Some people who say “obviously” a lot are intellectual snobs, trying to make you think they’re smarter than you. But for some of them, it is obvious because that’s how their mind works, and they can’t conceive that everyone else’s mind doesn’t work that way too.’

‘People don’t all learn in the same way or at the same rate,’ he said, slightly uncertain.

‘Correct.’ She smiled impishly. ‘Some people learn faster than others. Some people learn from books, some people learn by hearing things said to them, some people learn by doing or by touch. All kinds of variations.’

‘But if Snape can’t teach, why is he teaching at Hogwarts?’

Tonks sighed. ‘It’s not as black and white as that, Harry. He can teach, it’s just that he doesn’t necessarily have the patience to teach well. Snape is perhaps the best potions master in Europe. I figured this might come up so I asked Dumbledore about it. His understanding of advanced potions is without peer, and few are better than him at pure potions research. That, together with the fact that students that pass his teaching are out some of the best potions people around may make up for the fact that he’s an utter arse to the younger students, and all his other flaws.’

‘And then there’s the whole Order thing.’

‘Yes.’

‘So... I’ve been resenting the fact that he didn’t teach me meditation to help with Occlumency, but... he may not know it himself?’

‘Or he may have been taught it does no good, or there may be some objective reason why it’s not the right approach, or he may simply be teaching you the way he himself was taught.’ She sighed. ‘Even though you don’t necessarily have enough information to know what the reason is, do you accept that he might have one? He might simply be sadistic, but perhaps it’s the case that he doesn’t enjoy doing what he does to you but does it because he has to?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good.’ Tonks paused, then said, ‘Turn over. Face away from me.’

Puzzled, Harry did as she asked. Tonks snuggled up behind him, her front pressed against his back, her arm thrown over his chest. He felt safe and warm.

‘That’s better,’ she said happily. ‘I’ve OD’d on being serious for today, Harry. I need a snuggle. So go to sleep, lover boy. I’m right here.’

Harry wriggled, settling himself like a little boy. He smiled to himself and felt his eyelids closing. ‘I still think he’s an utter bastard and I don’t like him at all.’

‘Me too! But that doesn’t matter. Just work with him and learn what he knows. You don’t have to learn his attitude, Harry. You’re better than that. Use him! Learn his knowledge and skills. Then take them and use them for the greater good, or whatever else your aims might be.’

‘Me... use Snape,’ mused Harry with a snort. ‘Now there’s a happy thought.’

Harry felt a brief contact against the nape of his neck. ‘Good night, Harry.’

‘Good night, Nymph,’ he said happily as he finally worked out that she had kissed him. That was his last thought as he faded out into sleep.

Nymphadora Tonks lay still and watched as Harry relaxed fully and his breathing changed to the slow pattern of sleep. She kissed the nape of his neck again then shook her head lightly with a rueful smile. ‘You’re going to be quite a heartbreaker one day soon, Harry Potter,’ she murmured before settling herself for sleep.

* * *

13 July, 1996

Dear Harry,

After discussing the question of your education in Occlumency at length with Professor Snape, we have decided that the best solution overall is to have him visit you once per week. I fear there is no suitable alternate tutor available in the near term. He also has news for you which he will impart when he sees you.

Would Monday evenings be suitable for you? Assuming this is acceptable, Professor Snape will visit you after full dark of next Monday, 15 July. I appreciate that this means you will finish very late, but it is necessary for maximum security.

Yours faithfully,

Albus Dumbledore.

Harry groaned as he put down the letter. ‘Once a week, Monday night, after full dark. Merlin, Tonks, he won’t get here until ten o’clock.’

Tonks magicked the dinner dishes clean with a wave of her wand and they floated into their proper places in the cabinet. Harry had become used to the amount of food that Tonks forced him to eat and while he no longer felt uncomfortably full, he did feel well fed.

Stretching, Harry looked over his arms and shoulders. It was difficult to tell – was Tonks’ stern exercise regime yielding results? Smiling at his self-absorbtion, Harry leant back and watched Tonks as she bustled about. He pulled Hermione’s latest letter to him, dug out some parchment and a quill and ink, and began composing his reply. For a time there was silence except for the scratching of his quill and the occasional crashes and bumps of Tonks moving about.

‘It’s just as well you brought a good supply of parchment, you know, Tonks,’ he said, his quill scratching as he wrote. He was nearing the end of his second page, and he began closing the letter off. ‘I would have run out by now otherwise.’

Tonks sat on the table next to him, swinging her legs. ‘You’ve been carrying on quite a correspondence this year, haven’t you, lover boy,’ she said. ‘Do you normally do that?’

Harry looked at her strangely, his quill poised above the page. ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ he said with some heat. ‘If Vernon Bloody Dursley doesn’t have poor Hedwig – and myself – under lock and key, I can’t send or receive any owls because Dumbledore won’t let me! I used to write Hermione and Ron a lot, and Sirius, but the last few years....’ He paused, sighing, then and signed Hermione’s letter before sealing it with sealing wax and a touch of magic to prevent prying eyes. He still had to reply to Luna’s latest letter, but that could wait a while. ‘What do you have planned for tonight, little Tonksie?’ he asked with a teasing grin.

She snorted at him and smiled. ‘You’ve been doing really well in the meditation, so I thought we’d take it to the next level. Come on.’ Taking his hand she hoisted him out of his chair and out into the middle of the echoingly large space that had become their duelling, exercise, and practice area. She let him go and faced him.

‘Do you know anything about the martial arts, Harry?’ She waited as he shook his head mutely. She explained, ‘Fighting. With fists, weapons, whatever. Sometimes it’s put together in a formal way and it’s called a martial art. Martial arts, as such, mainly come from Asia.’ She snorted. ‘Hey, Harry, look at me! I sound like a Professor!’ She made her hair flash through neon pink, leaf green, a bright cobalt blue, repeating the cycle before settling on a yellow-blonde colour. He laughed at her, and she grinned at him, saying, ‘I’m sorry, it goes against the grain to be so serious but it’s like I can’t help it!’

‘I don’t mind,’ he said. ‘Either way, you’re Tonks. Or Nymph. Either way, you’re not boring and I love that about you.’ He blushed then, but smiled through it. Tonks smiled warmly and hugged him.

‘Thanks, Harry,’ she said quietly and sincerely. Quickly she pecked him on his forehead then released him and stepped back. ‘As I was saying,’ she said, using her lecturing voice but with an impish smile, ‘some of these martial arts are interesting because their practitioners have been recorded as being able to do remarkable feats. Many martial arts are as much philosophies for living as they are methods of fighting, but one thing most of the interesting ones have – you know, the ones where people have been able to do remarkable things – is the notion of relaxed awareness. This is being in your centre.

‘Now,’ she continued with a theatrical eye-roll as she flicked her hair to a pleasant sky-blue, ‘many dress up the notion with spiritual codes and other things, but the gist of it is that by being fully relaxed and aware, in the centre, you can act and react from a combination of thought and instinct, become able to access your subconscious mind somewhat, and even amplify your strength and speed. If you are not fully relaxed, you have doubt, indecision, and hesitation in the back of your mind. By being fully relaxed, you react without doubt, without hesitation, and with your full power.’ She paused to bring into being a protego shield which visibly shimmered with power, then a lumos which shone like a searchlight. ‘Interesting, eh?’

Harry nodded, wide-eyed. ‘Yeah! You’re going to teach me that?’ he asked eagerly.

‘Yup! Well, we’ll start, anyway. It take a while. You’ve gotta learn some exercises, and then we’ll bring your meditation into it. It’s kind of like meditation on the move, although you extend your awareness, not close it off like you have been. Eventually I want you to be able to fight or duel or do anything at all with your spirit centred, ready to react quickly, instinctively, and properly to surprise events while putting all your energy and commitment into whatever it is you are doing. In this state, you should be able to sense what is happening around you all the time.’

Wide-eyed, Harry nodded again. ‘I want to learn it!’

‘That’s my Harry-boy!’ enthused Tonks. She calmed, adding, ‘Just so you know. Dumbledore told me that being centred is a necessary state of mind for you to contact your senses, at least initially.’

Harry nodded again, not in the least surprised.

‘Okay, then,’ said Tonks. ‘Let’s begin, then. You wanna put on some exercise clothes, lover-boy, or are you gonna do it like you used to?’ She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Blushing heavily, Harry grinned in spite of himself as he turned to walk over to his wardrobe. ‘Only if you do, too, Nymph,’ he tossed over his shoulder with a grin.

‘You should be careful what you ask for, Harry,’ she shot back with a wide grin.

Shaking his head, Harry pulled clothes from a drawer but said nothing.

* * *

It was almost exactly ten o’clock on the following Monday evening when Snape entered the attic, much as Tonks had done two weeks earlier. The evening was warm after a hot day, with the scent of rain in the air promising relief later that night or perhaps in the morning.

This time, Harry was not caught unawares. A ward he had established warned him of the passage of a being through the open window, and a second, more powerful ward set in a six-foot semicircle around the window automatically cancelled the disillusionment charm on Snape and his broomstick.

When Snape entered, Harry was sitting in the library studying The Way of Things and Tonks was slouched in one of the chairs by the fireplace reading a novel. He looked up at the breaching of the alarm ward and watched as Snape appeared out of thin air as he sailed through the second ward. Snape looked around with a flashing glance and headed towards a landing at the edge of the practice area near the kitchen.

‘Good evening, Professor Snape,’ he said politely after putting down the book and rising to his feet. He started towards the Professor at an even stride, beginning his calming exercises even as he walked.

‘Potter,’ said Snape in reply. ‘This is... not what I expected.’ Harry stopped a few feet from Snape.

‘I don’t plan to tell you how it got this way, Professor,’ said Harry, slightly nervous. ‘You might want to Legilimence for that. Do you need to discuss anything with Tonks, or shall we get straight into it?’ He paused, mentally gritted his teeth, and added, ‘May I offer you refreshment?’

‘We can begin straight away.’

‘Fine, then. Won’t you please join me in the practice area? It’d be a shame to ruin any furniture with a stray curse.’

Snape boggled at Potter for a moment before following him into the centre of the large, empty area. He watched without comment as Potter flicked his wand. To his amazement, two large, deep chairs with wooden arms and leather cushions appeared facing one another in the middle of the empty space about two metres away. Only a lifetime of training in schooling his expression kept him from revealing his surprise.

With a hand made sensitive to the nuances of magic by long experience with the subtleties of potions, Snape felt the wood of the chair as he watched Potter seat himself. The material of the chair was absolutely steady. It felt wholly natural with no emanation of magic to betray it as anything other than hand-crafted furniture.

Sitting, Snape made himself comfortable. Drawing his wand from its forearm holster, he pointed it elegantly into the air. ‘Are you ready, Potter?’

‘I believe so, sir.’

‘Well then, we will begin by evaluating your current level. I shall attempt to discern how this room came to be, as you suggested. Legilimens!’

At first, there was nothing – his probe disappeared into a grey nothingness. A shake of the wand, then repeat. ‘Legilimens!’ Still nothing. Well, then. One final try. ‘Legilimens!!’ he cried, putting all his power behind the probe. This time he got something, but not the usual melange of vaguely connected memories. Instead he got a steady image of a grassy field with a meandering stream, the warm sun and the chuckling sound of the brook as it tumbled over rounded stones soothing and making one want to—

Snape shook himself, breaking the spell. Amazing. Time for some positive feedback, as Dumbledore called it. ‘Well done, Potter. I was not able to get anything of value. Let us try again, except this time I will not tell you what I shall be seeking out.’

An hour and a half later, Harry Potter slumped exhausted in his chair in the middle of the practice area. Snape stood smoothly and watched as Harry struggled to his feet. He opened his mouth to speak, but Snape held up a hand.

‘Potter. You did well, but you lack endurance and you have a weakness against unexpected probes and probes for unexpected subjects. Nevertheless this is a marked improvement over last time. Next time we will work on dealing with unexpected attack. I imagine endurance will come with practice.

‘You might consider this. You do not yet seem to have arrived at the correct technique for blocking access to your mind, which is why you have to spend so much energy defending yourself. When you find the correct technique, you will find much less energy is required even when deflecting a full-power probe.’

‘Thank you, Professor.’

‘And Potter... your work on the security warding of your letter to me was impressive. I look forward to discussing improvements to your technique once we have the urgent matter of Occlumency taken care of. Your progress this evening leads me to hope that it will not be as long as I feared.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Very well, I will be going now.’

‘Professor?’

‘Yes, Potter?’

‘The inner ward will restore your disillusionment charm as you pass through it.’

Snape turned to regards Harry with raised eyebrows. ‘Indeed? Thank you for informing me.’

Harry watched as Snape mounted his broom and sailed through the window. As he neared it, he disappeared once again. Harry sank limply into his chair. ‘Ungh,’ he grunted tiredly.

Tonks wandered over, smiling kindly at him. ‘You look tired, but you should bathe before bed or you’ll be one big knot tomorrow morning,’ she said. Harry looked up at her with tired eyes that silently conveyed the message that he was long past caring. She reached out and took his hands. Leaning back, she pulled him to his feet and she draped one of his arms over her shoulders. Supporting him around the waist, she said, ‘Come on, big boy, I’ll wash your back.’

* * *

‘So, how did it go, Severus?’ asked Dumbledore as the two men sat in front of the Headmaster’s fire. Something was different about the younger man. He seemed bemused.

‘The boy has made impressive progress. I maintain my insistence that calming meditation is not the correct technique to use to block Legilimency, but somehow Potter managed to thrust enough raw power into his meditation, if you can imagine such a thing, to deflect all but the sharpest and most unexpected probes. Unfortunately, he tired quickly, but I gave him positive feedback as you suggested. I find myself hopeful that he will have improved further by our next session.’

‘Excellent! If we are extremely lucky, the pressure of Occlumency will force him to develop his centring and his mage senses.’

Snape shook his head with a sigh. ‘Always the one for multi-layered plans, Albus?’ Dumbledore smiled benignly. ‘Well I have some news for you that may alter them. I found out something surprising about Potter this evening, something unexpected.’

There was a brief pause. ‘Oh? What?’ asked Dumbledore at length.

‘It is not unlikely that Potter is a Maker.’

Another pause, then, ‘I admit I was aware of the possibility but had not thought that the matter would be tested for over a year yet.’

‘It seems that Tonks taught him to conjure and it was he, not her, who is responsible for that great barn of an attic that they are living in. According to what I gleaned near the end of our session, when he was tired, Miss Tonks only told him what to do and set up practice objects for him. He did all the actual work. So he has had ample practice at conjuring.

‘He conjured a pair of chairs for us to sit in during our session. I touched one. It was absolutely steady, with no residual magic at all. There was none of the leakage of magic that would eventually have caused the chairs to weaken and evaporate.’

‘Really,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Well, it would appear you have the right of it, Severus. Still, I don’t see any need to share this with Mr Potter. He already knows what he can do, and telling him that something is supposed to be difficult and that he’s not supposed to be able to do it will merely ensure that he does not even try. And he would not appreciate knowing that he is special in yet another way.

‘I believe the correct approach with Mr Potter’s training is to tell him the technique and then let him do it. For example, note his use of meditation techniques for Occlumency. He does not know it is not supposed to be possible, so he goes ahead and does it anyway. I believe I’ll instruct the staff that we will have no more references to the difficulty of advanced magic – we may be handicapping more students than Mr Potter by telling them they are not expected to be able to do this or that.

‘Hopefully, prolonged exposure to Nymphadora will cause Harry to rejoice in being different, not cringe away from it as he has been. Until then, we need to be careful not to stunt his growth.’

‘I simply told him that the proper technique would not consume so much energy.’

‘Excellent, Severus, excellent! It will be interesting to see what happens next week.’

3. OWLs and Owling

Harry Potter and the Time of Change

by Olafr

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: R

Last updated: 23 March 2004. Revision 4: Post-beta draft incorporating beta comments. Numerous changes to Harry’s voicing.

Author’s Notes: I’ve upped the rating in response to comments that the language was pushing it for PG-13 in chapter 2, and the language is stronger again in this chapter.

Ship: Whoever heard of lifelong commitment from teenage years? I does happen, but how often?
3.
OWLs and Owling

21 July, 1996

Dear Hermione,

I’ve finally finished the books you sent me earlier this week. Thanks very much, they’ve helped me understand a little bit about how I’ve been feeling. Wherever did you find them? How did you know they would answer my questions so exactly? Anyway, thank you.

Tonks told me that OWL results are due tomorrow. Are you ready? Do you think you’ll pass them all? (Stupid question, I know.) Speaking of passing, I’ve been maintaining a little dictionary. I’m feeling especially Gryffindorish at the moment so I think I’ll take a little risk. Here’s a sample:

Pass (v) – (of an examination) to get an O.

Fail (v) – (of an examination) to get a grade of E or less.

Do you like it? I’ve got other entries. Perhaps I should put them together and publish a guide for next year – “Understanding Your Head Girl – 1997 Edition”. What do you think?

Well, I hope you do well, I’m sure you’ll let me know.

With love,

Harry

* * *

22 July, 1996

Dear Harry,

I did it! I passed them all! And no, for your information Mr. Sarcastic, I didn’t get all O’s, so I poke my tongue out at you. I got an E in Astronomy. So there! How did you do? Tell me!

I got a note from Professor McGonagall saying that I topped the OWL scores in Britain! Isn’t that something? Wow, I’m so happy I could just burst!

Have you heard from Ron? I haven’t written to him as I don’t have my own owl and it seemed a terrible imposition to just send poor Hedwig off to Romania without asking you first. We’ve been keeping her terribly busy going back and forth between our homes. London to Surrey isn’t very far, I suppose, maybe an hour by car and I guess about the same for Hedwig, but we’ve been writing so much I’m surprised she hasn’t withered away! (I have a very impressive file of your letters this summer.) Anyway, Ron hasn’t written to me and it seems Ginny hasn’t, either – there’s been no sign of Pig. I hope they’re okay.

The books I sent you are from my parents. They picked them out for you after I told them a little about Sirius and how he was lost – I hope you don’t mind me not asking first. My parents are dentists, as you know, but you may not know that their practice is in a medical centre they share with some GPs, a sports physio, a radiologist, and two psychologists. Mum asked me to make sure you knew, if this came up, that they didn’t actually share any specific details with their friends the Radfords (the psychologists) but they asked for their advice only in the most general terms. (Apparently psychologists are used to this and the Radfords weren’t surprised by the manner in which Mum and Dad made their inquiries; psychology is an intensely personal field and psychologists are one of a few Muggle professions that are required to keep discussions private even from a court of law.) May I tell Mum that the books were helpful? I’m so glad they’ve done good, and that you’ve found them useful. Hug!

We went to the swimming pool yesterday – it was so nice to spend a day with my parents, they work so much. I got to wear my new swimsuit, which looks very nice I think. Can you swim, Harry? I assume not given your childhood... although how did you survive the second task? If I can get Professor Dumbledore to let you go, I’d like to teach you to swim. We can even put it to him as learning a survival skill. (Sorry about that bit of black humour.) Still no luck on getting him to let you come over. I’ll keep trying, though! Do you know why he’s being such a stick? What possible benefit could there be in keeping you with those horrid people when there are others who not only would welcome you with open arms, but would love you and care for you?

After the pool, Mum and I went shopping – I’ve outgrown all the clothes I bought last year! She says that if I’m anything like her, this will be my last major growth spurt except for increasing in bust size a little over the next year. But I’m nearly as tall as her now, and she says I’m only a size smaller than her in the hips, so I guess I’m relieved to be done with all that. I can get some nice clothes at last without feeling as though I’m wasting money. I guess I’ll be visiting Madam Malkin’s at Diagon Alley this year, too.

So, what were your OWL results?

With love and hugs,

Hermione

P.S.: You’d better not be serious about that Head Girl book. If I become Head Girl at all, that is.

* * *

22 July, 1996

Dear Hermione,

Congratulations on acing your OWLs. As for the other thing – well, it’s official, I’m best friends with the smartest Witch in Britain. I’m very proud of you, Hermione. Hug.

I got 10 OWLs. My results were:

Theory I – E

Theory II – E

History of Magic – D (don’t know how I avoided a T)

Divination – A (surprising, but believable)

Astronomy – A (huh? I passed?)

Herbology – E (better than I expected)

Transfiguration – E (about what I was hoping for)

Care of Magical Creatures – E (again, about what I was hoping for)

Potions – E (not sure what to say)

Charms – O (better than I dared hope for)

DADA – A ??!!

The DADA result was huge surprise. I expected an E or an O after what Mr Tofty said to me as I left the practical exam. He as much as told me that I got an Outstanding... so to get an Acceptable? Something’s not right, Hermione. I’ve written to Professor McGonagall to ask what I can do, but frankly, I suspect Fudge (or that unspeakable toad Umbridge) at work. He’s interfered in my life without apparent reason several times before, why stop now? I’ve told you before that I’ve been becoming more and more disillusioned with the Ministry, but this is absolutely the last straw. I’ve been trying not to group that self-serving little bastard in the same league as Voldemort or Bellatrix LeStrange, but now I’m past caring. When I have defeated Tom Riddle the hypocrite (Voldemort’s true name, in case you’ve forgotten), I’ll be only too happy to take a little revenge on that twat Fudge. Until then he’s not worthy of my attention except as something to be overcome or avoided.

Sigh. Please excuse my language.

Anyway, A or no A, I still got 10 OWLs. Not bad for an academic nobody like me. And I simply cannot believe the Potions mark – I’m terrible in Snape’s class, I barely keep my head above water. I think I owe my mark in that class to you and Professor McGonagall. Thanks very much for all your help during the year. I’m really sorry for being a total prat last year and I’m very, very lucky to have a friend like you.

Speaking of Snape, we’ve come to an understanding, I think. I’ll tell you more about it when I see you, which I sincerely hope will be soon. For all that we write each other as much as we do, I miss you very much.

I haven’t heard from Ron either. I hope he and Ginny are having a good time over in Romania. I suppose Dumbledore might be restricting their owls as he is mine. Yes, we have been keeping Hedwig busy, but I think she’s really enjoying being used so much. She’s the happiest I can remember her being in summer. She usually gets bored and hard to deal with while I’m with my relatives – she’s often kept locked up. You remember when Ron and I came to Hogwarts in his parents’ car in second year, of course? That was one time when they kept both me and Hedwig locked up all the time, with padlocks, and the poor girl just hated it.

To answer your question about what Dumbledore said: I have to stay here for a certain amount of time every year. I’ll tell you the details when I see you if you want. But if I can, I’d really like to visit with you and your family this summer.

My relatives? Surprisingly, they aren’t mistreating me for a change. They’re just ignoring me. As far as they are concerned, I don’t exist. They’ve got me locked in the attic. It could have been horrible –for the first few days it was – but Tonks has helped me fix it up so it’s really comfortable. Dumbledore has supplied me with some books to keep me from climbing the walls, so I’ve been keeping myself occupied despite not having homework to do. I only wish I could go outside, I really miss the sun.

Hey, guess what? My aunt just paid me a visit! Well, not really. She unlocked the attic hatchway (which holds a kind of extending latter which comes down when you open it), stuck her head up into the attic, gasped in surprise (at the changes Tonks and I have made, I suppose), and left after stammering something about making sure I was alright. I guess she isn’t totally heartless after all. I wonder whether she’ll tell my uncle about the changes to the attic? I think Ron would have found her expression funny.

So you’ve grown? I wonder if you’re taller than me? As for swimming, I’d really like to go swimming with you. It’d be lovely to spend time with my friends – Tonks is wonderful, but I miss you and Ron. I don’t really know how to swim. I should learn it, I guess. In the meantime, Gillyweed has been useful.

It must be nice to have clothes that fit. I need to buy my robes and uniform again, too, as I have outgrown last year’s set. I didn’t notice at the time, distracted as I was, but judging by the way they fit – or rather, don’t fit – now, my school clothes must have been getting a little small towards the end of the year. Plus of course, the Muggle clothes I have are all Dudley’s hand-me-downs as somehow I’ve never quite found the chance to buy clothes that actually fit. I’ve either been locked up, under house arrest, at school, or just never thought of it I suppose. It’s certainly not a matter of having enough money, although all the money I do have is in Galleons, not Pounds Sterling. I must admit I don’t actually know the full extent of my holdings at Gringotts – I’ve never asked, it’s just been an enormous pile of coins that I take an insignificant amount from every year (or not, in case I can’t get to Diagon Alley like last year).

I’ve returned the books you sent me. Unwrapping the package this letter is attached to will undo the shrinking and lightening charms. Please do pass on my great thanks to your mother for the books, I found them terribly useful as I wrote above. I’ve also been talking with Tonks, and she’s helped put perspective on a few things as well.

I really hope that Dumbledore allows me out of here soon. I can’t wait to see you again, I have so much to share with you that I can’t say by owl.

With hugs and love,

Harry

* * *

22 July, 1996

Dear Professor McGonagall,

Thank you ever so much for your help studying for the Potions OWL. I am sure that it was largely due to your help that I achieved an E in Potions.

If you don’t mind, I have a question for you as Head of Gryffindor House. I was somewhat surprised to see that I scored an A in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Given that my examiner for the practical portion, Mr. Tofty, said as I left that I was all but assured of an O result, and that Hermione and I led a DADA study group this year, I wonder how I came to earn an A result overall for the subject. Could it possibly be due to interference?

Is it possible to appeal a mark? Please tell me what actions you feel I can or should take in this regard.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

* * *

Hedwig disappeared as she flew out the attic window with the two letters and he let out a sigh. He glanced at the large wizard’s window he had added the day before yesterday. It was not visible from the outside, but it showed a view of the street and skyline outside as if the window was real. The sky was darkening, and he knew that he would soon have to face Snape in Occlumency. He was dreading Snape’s coming, since as far as he could tell he had made no progress in his Occlumency at all since last week.

The sessions with Tonks had been interesting, however. As his fitness and wind increased, Harry found Tonks was having him do more and more things he could only describe as ‘strange’. She somehow seemed offended that there was not room for a running track inside and they were not permitted outside. Part of what she had him doing was straight gymnastics, and he was learning to love those exercises since they were giving him a sense of flexibility and power. Part of it was a kind of athletic dance, which Tonks insisted was one of the branches of martial arts although Harry could not see how what he was doing was in any way related to fighting. Finally, he was finding it easier all the time to exercise whilst maintaining a kind of meditative state, although his awareness was still concentrated inwards rather than outwards to his surrounding environment. She drove him in drills which worked on his speed and accuracy, and drills to force him to strengthen his shields and speed their invocation.

For all the variety, however, Harry still felt impatient. His true power was waiting for the critical breakthrough, a breakthrough which was showing no sign of appearing. Despite Dumbledore’s assurances to the contrary, he was sure that his magic sense was the power ‘that he knew not’. His lack of progress was frustrating but he tried to put a good face on it and learn as much as he could. His reading on the subject of wards, shields, and security charms had proved invaluable already.

The detection ward tingled and Harry rose from his spot at the kitchen table, moving automatically to meet Snape in the centre of the practice area.

* * *

Snape had just left when Tonks hauled Harry out of his chair and draped his arm over her shoulders, just as she had at the same time last week. He was all but totally unaware of his surroundings, and did not complain when she dragged him into the bathroom, the taps of the enormous tub already running. She draped him face-down onto the massage table she had conjured on her third day and stripped off his shirt. His shorts and boxers followed soon after. She stripped off as well then half-carried half-dragged him into the still-filling bath. She sat down and supported Harry by holding his back to her right front, her right arm around his chest.

Harry was somewhat aware of proceedings, but he was so tired he could not gather the energy to manage himself. It was so nice to just lay back and be pampered. Somewhere along the way he noted that Tonks was thorough when it came to hair colour changes. It didn’t seem important but somehow that little factoid stuck fast in his mind.

When he awoke, light was just beginning its slow creep into the day. Somewhere along the way as he swam back to awareness he noticed that he was nude, that Tonks was present, and that the tip of his morning erection was resting against Tonks’ arm. She was curled up against his side, her head on his shoulder, and her arm was draped over his abdomen. Comfortably warm, still tired and hugely comfortable, Harry could not work up the motivation to feel embarrassed and he allowed himself to slip back to sleep.

Awakening again was nowhere near as comfortable; hydraulic pressure meant that while it was not imperative that he rose, it would be nice to do so. Tonks was no longer curled up against him; instead, her warm buttocks pressed against his hip. As Harry realised that what he could feel was flesh, not cloth, he felt a flash of temptation to turn over and spoon her. As soon as it came, however, it was gone, replaced by an almost instinctive don’t touch without checking. He rolled away from Tonks and got up, slipped on some boxers and padded over to the bathroom.

Re-emerging, Harry looked around and was not surprised to see no sign of Hedwig. Usually she stayed overnight after delivering his letter to Hermione, returning in the morning with her reply. He smiled to himself, knowing that she would be back by the time he needed her tonight. She always was.

Back at his bed, Harry sat on the covers rather than sliding back beneath them; it was time to begin the morning exercises. He studied Tonks’ sleeping face. She looked cute with her apricot-coloured hair and a matching light skin tone and even a few freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. Harry smiled to himself before he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Sitting back, he watched as she awoke. ‘Good morning, cutie,’ he said with a smile.

Tonks returned the smile. ‘Good morning, lover boy,’ she said. She lifted the covers ostentatiously and looked down at herself. ‘My, what did we get up to last night?’ she asked with a patently fake expression of shock on her face.

Harry snorted, unembarrassed. He was becoming used to Tonks’ little jokes and digs. ‘We did nothing. I seem to remember you bathed me then put me to bed. Thanks for that, by the way. Anything else is just wishful thinking on your part, Nymph.’

With a gamine grin, Tonks said, ‘Can’t blame a girl for thinking.’ She slipped out of bed and stood with her back to Harry. She slapped one taut, round buttock. ‘You can’t tell me you saw me curled up there, all ready for you to ravish me, and you did nothing? Are you a man or a mouse?’

‘Huh,’ said Harry, smiling but slightly nonplussed. ‘If there’s any ravishing going to happen, it will be with the knowing cooperation and vocal encouragement of both parties.’

Tonks threw a pout over her shoulder and walked towards her side of the attic to dress. ‘Your loss, lover boy,’ she teased. Harry thought she was pleased, though, despite her outward show of disappointment.

* * *

17 Chisholm Court,

Wimbledon, SW19 8RT

23 July, 1996

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

* We wish to have Harry Potter stay with us for the last three weeks of summer.

* Please advise whether this would be possible and if not, why not.

* From a psychological point of view it’s important to get Harry away from the Dursleys.

* We feel that a visit such as this would be in Harry’s best interests.

My husband and I have been given to understand that you are acting in loco parentis for Harry Potter. We are therefore writing to you to request that Harry be permitted to visit with us for the last three weeks of the Summer holidays. We would very much like to spend time getting to know this young man who is such a great friend of our daughter Hermione, and we see this as a very good way of doing it. We are also asking for Harry’s benefit, as Hermione tells us he has a very difficult home life, neglected and verging on the abusive, and we would like to do anything we can to relieve that burden. He would go with us to Diagon Alley once school lists became available, and we would ensure he meets the train to Hogwarts on 1 September.

Please advise us whether any special measures are needed to make this possible, and if it is not possible, why not. Hermione tells us that Harry is being hunted by that creature Voldemort, and that there are special magical protections in place, presumably in part to prevent him being magically located and spirited away. We understand that in order to accommodate our request you may need to go to some trouble to establish necessary protections around our home, but we feel that such trouble would be well worth it.

Hermione has shared with us much of an extensive correspondence she has been carrying out with young Harry this summer. We have consulted in general terms with psychologist friends of ours and they – and we – feel that although Harry appears to have recovered well and is starting down the road to adjusting to the loss of his only parental figure as well as his perceived betrayal by most of those he loves most, that recovery is fragile, and spending some time in an environment away from both the Dursleys and Hogwarts is vital to reinforce the progress he has made. In particular, failure to get him away from the Dursleys may be seen by him as a total lack of trust and faith in his abilities which could easily move him further down the negative road towards being a cynical, untrusting person. It is necessary to act promptly to prevent this.

So we implore you, please let Harry come stay with us this summer.

We look forward to your reply.

Yours sincerely,

Emma & Dan Granger.

* * *

Hedwig didn’t arrive until almost dark that evening, far later than usual. Harry was sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the fire – it was a cool evening – and Tonks sat near him at one end of the couch. Hedwig flew to Harry and he removed a letter from her leg. It was from Hermione, her writing now as distinctive to him as his own or Dumbledore’s, and certainly it was the hand he most looked forward to seeing.

His hands trembled slightly as he turned the letter over and he paused before breaking the little blob of the dark crimson sealing wax that Hermione always used.

23 July, 1996

Dearest Harry,

Congratulations on your OWL results! 10 OWLs is no mean achievement, well above average. And you are not an intellectual nobody! You just didn’t study as hard as I did, and of course you had distractions – the Ministry, and your scar. You should contest the Astronomy and History marks as well. I agree that it’s basically impossible for you to have achieved only an A on DADA – I got an O, and I feel sure you did better than I on that exam. I can’t believe that it’s Fudge interfering directly in your life, but then as you pointed out he’s done it plenty of times before now, hasn’t he? What do you think his problem is, why would he go to the trouble? I admit that it doesn’t look good, and the thoughts you have me thinking are not favourable of the Ministry in general and Fudge in particular.

I want so much to respond to some of the other points in your letter, but I think I’ll wait until I see you. My parents have become involved now and Mum said she was pretty sure you’d end up staying or she’d know the reason why. Mum can be quite forceful when she gets worked up about something (and is she ever worked up about you and your situation since talking to the Radfords), so I pity Professor Dumbledore if he chooses to stand in her way.

Good luck with your DADA appeal, and I hope to see you soon.

With love & hugs,

Hermione.

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

25 July, 1996

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Granger,

Your points regarding Harry’s psychological well-being are well taken. I have consulted with a psychiatric Medi-wizard of St. Mungo’s Wizarding Hospital, and she agrees with the substance of your assessment. Harry must spend four weeks every year at the Dursleys; after that he is free to move about provided reasonable precautions have been taken to protect the people and place where he sleeps.

It is vital that Harry continue to heal and that the negative effects of my well-intentioned mismanagement of him be undone to the extent possible. Dr. Humbert-Smith also reminded me that, regardless of the objective truth of the matter, Harry’s perceptions are the governing factor, and that not only should we do the right thing, but he must feel that we are doing our best by him. One of the best ways to do this, she said, is to extract Harry from the Dursleys as soon as possible.

Therefore, in addition to granting your request to host Harry for the last three weeks of the holidays, may I prevail upon you to take him from 1 August, or as soon as possible thereafter? Please let me know the date you can take him from, and I will put in place appropriate arrangements such as the warding of your home etc. It would be of benefit if you would also accept Harry’s bodyguard, Miss Nymphadora Tonks. We would of course magically create the necessary extra rooms to accommodate Miss Tonks (and Harry if needed) as well as contribute to their upkeep.

I pray that I do not impose unduly, and hope to hear your reply soon.

Yours faithfully,

Professor A. Dumbledore

Headmaster, Chief Mugwump of the International Federation of Sorcerers, Leader of Wizengamot

* * *

25 July, 1996

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Thank you for arranging for your bird to wait for our reply. We do not have an owl so it was very thoughtful of you. Hermione tells me it is a phoenix. What a handsome creature!

While we would be delighted to accept Harry from August 1, we regret that it is simply not possible as we will be away at a conference until August 5. We can and will accept Harry and Ms Tonks from August 6, however.

We look forward to receiving any necessary visitors to perform the warding etc. that you mentioned previously. Please be aware that we will be departing for Bristol on the morning of 29 July. Other than the time we will be away from home, we remain, for Harry’s sake, at your disposal.

Our daughter Hermione would very much like to visit with Harry as soon as possible, possibly even staying with him during the time we will be in Bristol. Since I now know Harry has a responsible adult staying with him, I have given her my endorsement. Would this be possible to arrange?

Yours faithfully,

Emma & Dan Granger.

* * *

The tingling of the outer ward jerked Harry’s attention from the reflex drill he was performing under Tonks’ guidance and he looked up to see Moody grunt in surprise as his disillusionment was stripped from him as he floated into the attic on his broom.

‘Nice to see some basic vigilance, Potter,’ he said as he drifted to a stop, his feet about a foot from the floor. He grinned unwholesomely. ‘But how do you know I’m me?’

Tonks grinned and Harry smirked. ‘Identification ward. Try again, Moody.’

Moody said nothing more but raised his eyebrows. ‘Letter for you. I’m to wait fer a reply.’

Harry stepped to Moody and took the letter. He stepped away as he cracked the seal, ignoring the way Moody’s magical eye spun in its socket. He scanned the letter, then jumped for joy. ‘Yes!’

‘What is it, Harry?’ asked Tonks. ‘Good news I gather?’

‘Yes. Dumbledore says we’re to stay with the Grangers from the sixth, but Hermione’s parents will be at a conference from the twenty-ninth to the fifth, and she’s asking to stay here while they’re away.’ He looked up from the letter, adding, ‘He says he’s in favour as it will allow consolidation of resources and he trusts you as chaperone, Nymph.’

‘Now look here, lover boy...’ started Tonks, only to be interrupted by a loud throat-clearing from Moody.

‘Tonks, have you been fraternisin’?’ he asked sternly.

‘No I haven’t!’ she shouted, flustered.

‘It’s just a running joke, Moody,’ added Harry. Turning back to Tonks, he said, ‘May Hermione come here during that time, Tonks?’

‘You’ll be doing the set up for her,’ Tonks replied sternly, but she was grinning.

‘Okay! After all, who did the set up for this place anyway?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’

‘I’ll reply saying yes, then. Moody, is the reply going to Dumbledore, the Grangers, or both?’

‘Dumbledore,’ he said gruffly.

‘Hedwig isn’t back yet. Could I please ask you to send a letter to the Grangers for me as well?’ Moody nodded, a faint smile creasing his craggy face, and Harry returned the smile. ‘Tonks,’ he said, ‘would you offer tea to Moody please?’

* * *

25 July, 1996

Dear Hermione,

I was overjoyed to receive a letter earlier today from Professor Dumbledore regarding your parents’ kind offer. I would be delighted to stay at your house from the 6th. Even better, I have received permission for you to stay here from the 29th. We have ample room here in the attic; it really is surprisingly large (it’s magic!). Be ready to practice! Tonks is a hard taskmistress.

I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.

I’ve got to go now, Moody is waiting and is getting impatient.

With love & hugs,

Harry

* * *

It was that night that Harry discovered a most interesting book in the collection that Dumbledore had sent. Its spine label had been rubbed off, but the title on the flyleaf was intriguing: A Comparative Study of Techniques of Magical Transport and Movement, Their Monitoring, and Control, by Thomas MacGiven. Intrigued, Harry immediately sat down with the thick volume and began to read.

Later, when the time came for bed, Tonks came over to see what was holding Harry’s attention.

‘Wotcher, Harry,’ she said with a grin. The old slang had become something of a joke between them. ‘Wotcher got there?’

‘It’s a book on magical transport.’

Tonks smirked knowingly. ‘You should know that there’s anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards up all around here,’ she said.

‘I know,’ he said distractedly. ‘It’s still fascinating.’

‘Well, I’m going to bed.’ She kissed him on the cheek, then dropped a book in his lap. He oof’d in surprise. ‘Perhaps you’d like to read this instead. Good night, Harry.’

‘Night, Tonks,’ he said, putting aside the book on magical transport and picking up the book Tonks had dropped on him. It was of moderate size, perhaps two inches thick and a foot on a side. This book, too, had its spine lettering mostly rubbed off; only specks of gilt remained. Harry opened the cover and read the flyleaf.

On the Creation of Magical Jewellery, Oddments, and Other Useful Items

by Nicholas D. Flamel

There was also an inscription:

Albus,

I hope you find this humble work of use in your suit.

May I suggest Chapter 5, and good luck!

Nicholas, 1869

His eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline, Harry contemplated the flyleaf for some time before turning the page and checking the table of contents. Chapter five had to do with rings. Noticing that the work began with a chapter on introductory concepts, he opened the book to the first page and began to read.

* * *

Hedwig woke Harry late morning by nibbling on his ear. His first attempt to move resulted in blazing pain as his back and neck complained. Opening his eyes, he realised that he had gone to sleep whilst reading Flamel’s fascinating book. He groaned.

‘Hey there, lover boy!’ called Tonks from the kitchen. ‘Go take a shower and I’ll have lunch ready. Brunch for you,’ she finished with a snicker.

‘Urgh,’ groaned Harry. He directed a glare at Tonks as best he could with a wonky neck. ‘I don’t think I’m ever going to move again.’

‘Well I guess you’ll want this potion, then,’ she said. Harry saw a glass goblet containing a pinkish potion sitting on the near end of the table. ‘But you’ll have to replace it if you drink it,’ Tonks continued.

‘Anything, just give me the potion please.’

‘Get it yourself, it’ll do you good.’

Harry tried to get up but stiffened in pain half way out of the chair. Collapsing back, his face drawn and eyes closed in pain, he gestured and the goblet floated into his outstretched hand. He drank it and sighed in relief almost straight away. ‘Ah, that’s better,’ he said. He could feel the potion working its way through his system, starting in his neck and flooding like a wave of relaxation and warmth to his hands and feet. Grinning he got easily to his feet and padded over to the kitchen to replace the goblet on the table. Ignoring Tonks’ somewhat fixed smile, he said, ‘Thanks, Nymph,’ kissed her on the cheek, and wandered over to the bathroom to start his shower.

Emerging from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, Harry wandered over to his wardrobe and, with his back to Tonks, quickly dressed. He picked up his wand from the bedside table and turned to return the towel to the bathroom when he paused in mid-step. For a long moment he stood there, one foot in the air, staring stupidly at his wand. ‘Tonks?’

‘Yes, Harry?’

‘Did you take my wand from the bathroom and put it on my bedside table?’

‘No. I took it from the floor next to your chair and put it there... when I got up this morning.’ Harry turned uncertainly to Tonks, who was grinning like a maniac.

‘So when I accio’d the potion...’

‘Your wand was on your bedside table, yes.’ Tonks ran over to Harry and leaped into a hug. ‘That’s fantastic, Harry!’

Automatically returning Tonks’ hug, Harry wondered at her enthusiasm. Finally he made the connection, and he stopped her and stepped back, shaking his head. ‘It’s nothing special, Tonks. I still can’t “see”.’

‘It’s a sign that you’re making progress!’

Smiling, Harry nodded a little uncertainly. ‘Yes,’ he said hesitantly. ‘I suppose.’

Hedwig chose that moment to interrupt, screeching from her perch on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. ‘Oh, Hedwig, I’m sorry,’ said Harry as he hurried over to take the letter from his now rather miffed owl. He stroked her for a minute or two to calm her before opening the letter and reading it. As expected, it was from Hermione, but unexpectedly it was her shortest letter yet this summer.

26 July, 1996

Dear Harry,

I’m so happy! Moody says to tell you my parents will drop me off and he’ll ‘give me a lift’ for the final step. I can hardly wait! 3 more sleeps!

I’ll see you Monday morning.

With love,

Hermione

Harry smiled to himself. Tonks wandered over and asked, ‘Hermione’s coming?’

‘Yes!’ he replied, calming down and tucking the letter into the waistband at the back of his shorts.

‘We’ll do the set up after lunch, then. Where were you thinking of putting her bed?’

Harry looked around for a moment and said, ‘I think on the other side of the library from mine, and we’ll put up something between her bed and the practice area. That way she’ll have some privacy, anyway.’

‘Good answer, lover boy.’ Tonks snickered and Harry chased her around the kitchen table before she turned and launched a tickle war.

Later that afternoon, after an exhausting session spent dodging hexes without the benefit of shield charms, Harry spent some time conjuring and banishing things of various materials. Finally after a string of failures, Harry looked up to see Tonks watching him curiously. ‘Say, Tonks, do you know why I can’t seem to conjure anything with gold in it? I can do silver okay, but gold’s a no-no.’

Tonks stared at Harry, then frowned in disappointment. ‘I’m sure you’ll find the answer in the library, Harry. I thought you’d know that already.’

He looked at her oddly, then nodded and stepped over to the library. Picking up Flamel’s book, he remembered there was a chapter on conjuration. Checking the table of contents, he saw it was toward the back of the book. ‘I didn’t get that far last night,’ he said to himself. Quickly flipping to the relevant page, he found what he wanted only four paragraphs in.

Conjuration can produce any material except the noble metals. Materials which are alloys of noble metals also cannot be produced by conjuration. The noble metals are Gold and Platinum. To overcome this limitation requires the use of the Philosopher’s Stone, an alchemical object of extreme rarity.

A marginal note had been written in Dumbledore’s elegant hand. It said: Noble metals: Ruthenium (44-Ru), Rhodium (45-Rh), Palladium (46-Pd), Rhenium (75-Re), Osmium (76-Os), Iridium (77-Ir), Platinum (78-Pt), Gold (79-Au).

Harry closed the book with a thump. ‘Well, that’s that then,’ he muttered. He set the book aside, then returned to Tonks who was brewing a potion on the kitchen table. ‘I guess I know the answer to the question now, Tonks. Thanks.’

‘No problem, Harry.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s some more of that muscle relaxant potion you drank this morning. We might need it and since you didn’t brew it, I’m doing it.’ She was smiling at Harry. He felt very guilty.

‘I’m sorry, Tonks, it never even crossed my mind. And to tell you the truth, me and potions really don’t get along at all.’

Tonks looked at Harry with a disappointed expression. ‘Harry, Potions are more than a subject to study. They’re a way of life in the wizarding world. For all that you’ve got magic in your blood on both sides of your family you might as well be muggle-born. You missed out on so much information by being brought up in the muggle world. Like that you can’t conjure noble metals, every wizarding child knows that, it’s one of the great alchemical conundrums. And potions are almost as important as food. Not only should you learn to be at ease with them, but you really should learn to love them and, more importantly, learn how to achieve the ends you need even if you don’t necessarily have quite the ingredients you need. At the very least you need to know what potions exist, and in general how to use them.’

‘But, I... Snape...’

Sighing, Tonks nodded. She put on her lecturing face and changed her hair colour to a sober black. ‘Yes, I know, Snape. But you need to know potions, Harry, even if you don’t become an Auror. You need to be comfortable with them, particularly since they—err, nevermind.’ She blushed, and her hair changed to a violent crimson. ‘Anyway, they’re a part of everyday life in the magical world and you have to know them.’

‘Oh,’ he said in a small voice. He straightened, straightening his shoulders and setting his jaw in determination. ‘Well... I guess I know what’s on the study agenda from now on, then.’

‘Yes,’ said Tonks with a nod, her hair black again. ‘You’ll be reading about potions in the morning, and brewing them in the afternoons. But before we do any of that I need to lay in a supply of ingredients and vessels, and you need to do some basic preparatory reading.’ She let him over to the library and picked out a bright yellow book. Potions for Dummies Muggles. The “muggles” had been written in over the top of a scratched-out “dummies”.

‘Here, this will get you started,’ she said as she returned to the now-bubbling potion on the kitchen table.

‘Thanks, Tonks,’ said Harry before settling down into his favourite chair in the library and beginning to read.

* * *

Moody,

Attached is a list of potions ingredients and quantities, would you be a dear and have someone get them for me please? Harry has finally realised that he needs to know potions, and to fix Snape’s “teaching” I’m going to have to start with the most basic of the basic since Harry isn’t the kind of student who reacts well to Snape’s style.

Also, Harry asks that you get him six ounces of fine gold bullion. I suspect he’s going to make something for Hermione. Ain’t young love grand?

Dumbledore has Harry’s key.

Ta muchly,

Tonksie.

P.S.: Don’t forget the Grangers will be arriving about 8:30am the day after tomorrow. See you then if not before!

4. An Unexpected Day

Harry Potter and the Time of Change

by Olafr (olafr@iinet.net.au)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13

Last updated: 20 April 2004. Version 4. Post-beta, numerous minor changes to previous version, mostly word choice and errors in capitalisation.

Author’s Notes: My eternal and enthusiastic thanks to Nosila, beta-reader extraordinare, who had the patience to go through this with a fine-toothed comb and pick up all my little and not-so-little mistakes. Thanks, Nosila!
4.
An Unexpected Day

Harry Potter sat nervously before his magical picture window, watching the street outside for signs of Hermione’s arrival. All was quiet. There had been a number of commuters departing earlier, but it was now almost 8:30am and except for old Mrs. Johnson at Number 9 fussing over her topiary there was no sign of life.

Looking away for a moment, Harry checked once again that the bunch of daisies he had conjured was still where he had left it. Harry had planned to give the flowers to Hermione when she got here, but now he was having second thoughts. He decided to put them in a vase on her bedside table instead.

Getting up, Harry grabbed the flowers and hurried over to Hermione’s bed. With a gesture of his wand and a muttered ‘Conjurus!’ he conjured a large, cut crystal vase. Another gesture and word, and the vase was half-filled with water. Finally, after trimming the stems with a severing curse, he placed the flowers in the vase. He stepped back and smiled at the result. Much better.

The now-familiar tingling of the proximity ward caused him to spin in place, facing towards the open dormer window. The names Alastor Moody and Hermione Jane Granger floated into his consciousness just as the grizzled old Auror appeared in mid-air near the window on a broomstick, Hermione clinging on behind him with her eyes closed. Moody obligingly brought them in for a gentle landing at the edge of the practice space nearest Hermione’s bedroom area as Harry padded forward to meet them.

As her feet made contact with the floor, Hermione’s eyes opened and she looked around quickly, searching for... ‘Harry!’ she cried, jumping off the end of the broom and tackling him in a hug. Harry caught her, his arms around her waist, and held her to him.

‘Hermione,’ he murmured into her ear. He had memorised a little speech but it left him, overwhelmed as he was with happiness at seeing his best friend again. After a long moment the two stepped back.

‘You’re looking good, Harry’ she said.

‘So are you,’ he blurted. He could not believe how she had changed in a few short weeks. She was slightly tan, and her face appeared to have sharpened somewhat, perhaps losing the last of her baby-fat. All Harry knew was that she now looked more like a woman than a girl, though he could not say what it was exactly about her that made him feel that way. The most obvious thing that was different was her hair, which was now cut so that while full it tapered to nothing at about the nape of her neck.

‘It’s great to see you,’ said Harry at last. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘It’s great to see you too,’ said Hermione sincerely. She leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek then let him go. She stepped back from him a little and looked him up and down. ‘Wow, Harry,’ she said admiringly, ‘you’ve grown. You’ve filled out, too.’ She hesitantly reached out to lay a hand on his upper chest where Tonks’ stern exercise regime had made its effects most obvious.

‘Above the waist only!’ sang Tonks teasingly. The two teens jumped apart, flushing. Tonks stepped forward and caught up Hermione in a hug. ‘Wotcher, Hermione!’

‘Hello, Tonks,’ replied Hermione happily.

‘Well, that was quite a hello you gave lover-boy here,’ said Tonks teasingly. ‘Do I get one too?’

Hermione’s eyes opened wide in shocked surprise but Harry snickered. ‘Only if you’re very nice to Hermione, Nymph,’ he said with a teasing smile. Tonks grinned and leaned forward to kiss Hermione on the cheek.

‘Welcome, Hermione,’ she said. ‘Do you like our humble home?’ She stepped back and gestured around.

Hermione looked from Harry to Tonks somewhat wild-eyed and he could almost see her decide to shelve the matter until later. She then looked around at the huge room for the first time, smiling. ‘Nice expansion charm,’ she said to Tonks.

‘It’s all lover-boy’s work,’ she said. ‘I just cracked the whip.’ Hermione looked around again, more slowly.

‘Lucky you,’ she said to Harry. ‘You’ve obviously been able to avoid the Ministry detection charms and get some practice.’

‘Don’t worry, Hermione,’ said Tonks, ‘you’ll get plenty of practice too. Lover boy here needs a variety of opponents.’

‘You’re sick of being beaten, you mean,’ put in Harry confidently, smiling. ‘I’m sure Tonks’ll let you do some of the set up work at your place, too,’ he said to Hermione.

‘Oh, Tonks, can I?’

‘Of course! I’m sure Harry will appreciate the break. Stupefy!’

The red jet of the stunning curse shot from Tonks’ casually-held wand and slammed into Harry’s leg. It bounced off and spent its energy on Hermione’s bed. ‘Hey!’ he shouted. ‘Watch it! You might hit Hermione!’

‘What was that?’ asked Hermione.

‘It’s an advanced shield spell,’ said Tonks. ‘They teach it in Aurors’ Academy. I’m training Harry to carry spells like that unconsciously.’

‘I think you’d better teach it to Hermione, too,’ said Harry. ‘Or one time when you try and catch me without a shield she’ll get caught in a ricochet.’

‘Sure thing. Hermione? It goes like this...’

* * *

Hermione had unpacked her clothes and effects while Tonks sat on her bed and periodically called out instructions to a sweating Harry. Now that she was done unpacking, Hermione watched in amazement as Harry trembled in a handstand and proceeded to do a kind of upside-down push up. He nearly lost his balance, the trembling from the strain forcing him to move his legs about and arch his back surprisingly, but eventually he had his arms straight again, swaying only slightly.

‘Stupefy!’ muttered Tonks. The stunner bounced harmlessly off Harry and was absorbed by the wall. ‘I tell you, the kid’s just unnatural sometimes,’ she continued as she watched Harry balancing inverted, not noticeably affected by the stun shot.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Hermione sotto voce.

‘His balance. Sure he’s building up his strength faster than I expected, but his balance is just unbelievable.’

‘He’s always been like that,’ Hermione said. ‘I saw him stand on his broom to catch the snitch in one match in our first year.’ She smirked, then added, ‘He can’t seem to stay upright in the Floo or after a portkey, though.’

A silence fell as they watched Harry complete his second ‘push up’, then his third, again nearly falling but managing to recover each time.

‘Tonks?’ asked Hermione at length. ‘Do you mind if I ask...?’ She fell silent.

‘Ask about what?’ prompted Tonks when it became apparent that Hermione would not continue on her own.

‘About you and Harry?’

Tonks looked seriously at Hermione. She saw worry and perhaps a little jealousy in the younger girl’s face, hidden behind a façade of friendly interest. She gestured at the cheerful arrangement of daisies in their vase on the bedside table. Hermione followed her gesture then looked back, a question in her eyes. ‘Harry’s idea,’ said Tonks. Hermione continued to look at her uncertainly while Tonks grew a little frustrated at the younger girl’s apparent lack of perception.

‘The short of it is, you’ve got nothing to worry about,’ she said to Hermione. ‘It’ll take a while to explain the whole story, but I’m quite sure Harry sees me more as a kind of big sister than any kind of romantic interest.’

Hermione looked relieved. ‘Oh, good,’ she breathed. She then blushed and glanced at Tonks to check her reaction.

Tonks smiled at her and shook her head. Placing a hand on Hermione’s forearm, she said, ‘There’s a lot more to the story than that, of course, and some of it’s not really what you’re gonna expect. I’ll tell you the full story when Snape comes tonight for Harry’s Occlumency lesson.’

‘Thank you, Tonks,’ she said gratefully.

The elder girl nodded and muttered something inaudible. A stun bolt came from the wand whose tip was concealed between her fingers and Hermione slumped bonelessly onto the bed. With a sigh, Tonks waved her wand over Hermione and muttered, ‘Enervate.’ Hermione’s eyes blinked open. Tonks watched the play of expressions as confusion was rapidly washed away by chagrin, then determination reigned. Wordlessly Hermione plucked her wand from her waistband and cast the body shield charm over herself again. Tonks smiled reassuringly and tested her shield again with a stunner. It reflected satisfactorily.

‘Don’t worry, Hermione, it takes a while to remember to keep it up. I’ve been working on Harry for a week now and I still get him sometimes. So, did you bring exercise clothes? If you’re gonna be Harry’s girl—’

‘I’m not Harry’s girl!’ put in Hermione. Tonks’ joking expression faded a little, making Hermione feel bad. ‘I’m sorry, I just...’

Tonks waved her hand in denial. ‘It’s okay, Hermione, don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl.’ Smiling to show that there were no hard feelings, Tonks went on, ‘So? Got something to sweat in?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘I’ll transfigure something. What would you suggest?’

‘Shorts and tee-shirt if you want to be practical; leotard and crop top if you wanna play with his head,’ said Tonks with a wicked grin. Hermione looked briefly shocked before developing a matching grin. She pulled out some cutoff jeans and a tee-shirt, transfigured them into running shorts and a half-length tank top, and closed the curtains on her bed to get changed. Finished, she swung easily off the bed. Tonks nodded appreciatively at the outfit. ‘Very nice. Now, let’s start with some basic callisthenics...’

* * *

Hermione had chosen not to participate in the ‘learn to love potions’ sessions that Harry was taking with Tonks, which now occupied the time between his morning exercise session and lunchtime. Instead she chose to occupy herself with the resources of their small but interesting library. Sitting at the library table and taking notes, she was surprised to be interrupted by an owl. It was from Hogwarts, a brown barn owl with the school’s crest on one wing. Curious, she removed the letter and opened it. Golden sparks floated briefly as she broke the wax seal.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

29 July, 1996

Dear Miss Granger,

I trust you are well and have arrived safely. I apologise for bothering you so soon after your arrival, but I neglected to tell you something that you need to know.

It is very important that you try not to tell Harry that something is difficult or ‘not possible’ before he attempts it. Harry is capable of a number of things that are not possible to the average witch or wizard but I feel he lacks the confidence in his own abilities to successfully attempt something he knows he should not be able to perform. Only if he finds it is impossible should you say why this was so. For example, Harry did not know that it is impossible to conjure noble metals so he attempted it anyway. He did not succeed, and subsequently learned of the alchemical rule of noble metals. This was an example of failure, but there have been many successes to counterbalance it. For example, he did not know that most wizards take many years to learn to conjure truly durable objects, so he learned to do it that way practically at his first attempt. The chair you are no doubt sitting in and the table you are reading this at were both conjured by Harry, not transfigured.

It is my sincere hope that Harry will learn that many barriers of magic use do not apply to him so that he can succeed in spite of the established body of knowledge, which he needs to know not so that he knows how to do something but what is done when a spell is cast and the effects of that spell. I tell you this now so that you can choose how to help Harry without misunderstanding what may at first seem nonsensical suggested courses of study.

Finally, please do not interfere with Professor Snape’s tutoring of Harry in the fine art of Occlumency unless his interactions with Harry become overly negative. This activity is part of a plan to encourage Harry to develop his magical senses somewhat earlier than would normally be the case. I do plan to inform Harry of the full nature of his gift, but I am hoping that discussion can be deferred until Harry has learned to use his senses so he can see for himself instead of simply having to accept my word.

I hasten to point out that I do not believe that Harry’s development of his powers in this area are an essential part of his ability to defeat Voldemort when the time comes. However they will make it easier for him to survive any incidental attacks, and will help with his self-confidence by ensuring that he does not suffer through the ‘pause’ in magical ability that most possessors of direct magic senses experience. (This pause is caused by a growing conflict between what the affected person is told, and what they sense as the senses develop to the point of conscious realisation.)

It may be that the best approach is to simply show Harry this letter. He has previously proclaimed that he simply wants to be ordinary, but, alas, I fear that will not be possible for young Harry. He is extraordinary, and I sincerely hope that he will eventually come to relish in that, no shrink from it.

I discovered to my cost at the end of last term that, contrary to my previous hopes, I am not an expert on Harry Potter. I will therefore have to depend on you for that, Miss Granger. You are, so far as I can tell, his closest friend and the person he trusts the most. You are almost certainly the person who understands him the best. (I fear that Mr. Weasley’s relationship with Harry is both shallower and less close than yours.) I therefore depend on you to decide the best course. I have attached a brief note to Harry which you may hold back or give to him as you decide is best.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

The attached letter was brief.

Dear Harry,

Every generation there are born a few – a very few – witches and wizards who can sense magic directly. These people are sometimes known as Magi. Magi are not as a group more powerful than their peers, but being able to ‘see’ what they are doing rather than working blindly as most magic users do, they can exert much finer control over the application of their magic than the ordinary witch or wizard which can give the appearance of increased power.

I believe that you, Harry, are a Magus. The course of study I suggested to you was designed to encourage your ability to consciously use these senses. This is also one of the objectives of your Occlumency lessons: In addition to teaching you how to shield your mind, it is my hope that the pressure of learning to do this efficiently will force you to develop your senses earlier and, as a result of that, learn to use them more naturally.

I encourage you to direct any questions you might have about this to me, and I will be happy to attempt to answer them for you.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore.

Stunned, Hermione stared at the pages for a long time before filing them away in her journal. She looked up to see Harry frowning at a cauldron while Tonks said something encouraging to him. Then understanding passed across his face, and Tonks was slapping him on the shoulder. Hermione smiled as she watched for a minute longer, before getting up and stepping to the bookshelves, starting the process of cataloguing the available books.

* * *

Hermione was deep in a book when Harry sat down in a chair next to her. She looked up almost immediately and smiled warmly at him. ‘What are you reading?’ asked Harry.

She bit her lip and said, ‘I’m reading about the various special gifts that Wizarding society recognises.’ At Harry’s slightly puzzled glance, she added, ‘Like Savants and Metamorphmagi.’

‘Like Tonks.’

‘Yes.’ She glanced up and saw that the potions materials had been cleared. ‘Are you done with potions for today?’

‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘I would never’ve believed that I could enjoy potions, Hermione, but Tonks makes it easy to understand.’ Harry’s enthusiasm came through, surprising Hermione.

‘Perhaps I’ll join you starting tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I can do potions well enough, but I don’t actually enjoy them.’ He smiled in response.

‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’ He sat forward, preparing to stand. ‘It’s time for lunch. D’you want something to eat?’

‘Mmm,’ agreed Hermione. Harry stood and held out his hand to help her up. Hermione smiled and took his hand. Standing, she said, ‘Thank you, Harry.’

They were standing very close together, and neither teen seemed to want to move. They were startled out of their reverie by a call from Tonks. ‘Come on you two, do you want to eat or what?’ Harry and Hermione jerked apart, blushed, and glanced at each other, before Harry half-bowed and gestured to Hermione in an ‘after you’ motion. Hermione smiled and Harry followed her over to the kitchen table.

Lunch was ham cut from a leg, crumbly cheese, slices of crusty bread and a salad of leaves, carrot, tomato, and a few odd ingredients such as marinated olives and artichoke hearts. When Harry questioned these last – ‘What are these, Tonks?’ – she explained that her father’s mother had been Italian and she felt like having that kind of lunch today. Dubious at first, Harry soon found that he liked the creamy astringency of the marinated artichoke hearts and the sharp flavour of the cheese. Hermione, it turned out, was much more cosmopolitan than Harry and had already experienced these foods at her parents’ house.

When all three had been reduced to picking at stray crumbs of cheese, Tonks cleared the table and said, ‘Harry, what do you have planned for this afternoon’s studies?’

Harry took a final sip of chilled pumpkin juice and said, ‘Snape’s coming tonight. I want to concentrate on meditation. Later on, would some accuracy, speed, and power drills be okay?’

‘Sure, that’s fine. Hermione, how about you?’

Hermione appeared surprised. ‘You don’t have a fixed study timetable?’

Tonks shook her head. ‘The scheme I outlined before is just a guideline we use. I used to make suggestions early on, but Harry usually knows what he wants to do now.’ She grinned at Hermione, adding, ‘Now that you’re here we’ll be fitting you into the program. Assuming you want that instead of doing your own thing of course.’

‘Yes please,’ said Hermione. ‘I’m sure I’ll want to study different things to Harry but I want to spend as much time as possible practising. And after last time I think I had better do some physical training too.’

Tonks started to reply to Hermione but paused before turning to Harry, who was grinning at Hermione’s eager response. ‘Harry, why don’t you go and do your meditation? I’m going to spend some time with lover-girl here and find out where she thinks she’s weak and we’ll maybe do a few drills.’

Harry nodded. ‘Sure thing. You’ll be okay for a little while, Hermione?’

‘Of course, Harry.’

With a nod, Harry retreated to his bedroom area and conjured a large ottoman before settling himself on it. Hermione watched him as he gestured a few times with his wand and set it down. He met her eyes and smiled at her before closing them and shutting out the outside world.

Hermione jerked in surprise as Tonks laid a hand on her shoulder. ‘Come sit with me in the lounge,’ said the older girl before leading the way over to the circle of chairs and the couch before the fireplace. The fireplace was currently dark, the day being pleasantly warm. ‘You don’t have to worry about Harry, he’s set up a silenced area so we don’t disturb him.’ Nodding silently, Hermione followed and settled down at one end of the couch. Tonks settled into the other end, crossing her legs and folding her feet comfortably beneath herself, leaning up against the end of the couch facing Hermione.

‘There’s a few things you should understand about how we’ve been living here over the last few weeks,’ said Tonks without preamble. ‘I’ve really been working to let Harry relax and work through the loss of Sirius, but to tell you the truth I’m a little disturbed at how quickly he seems to have adjusted.’ She made a throwing away motion with her hand, as though tossing the subject away. ‘First, though, you’ve no doubt noticed the layout in here.’

Hermione squinched her brows together, looking around and nodding. Looking between the two visible bed areas, she said uncertainly, ‘You and Harry don’t seem to have bothered with privacy. Why didn’t you put up normal rooms and so on?’

Tonks nodded confirmation. ‘It’s complicated. Um... firstly, so you know where I’m coming from, by the time you’ve finished Auror training you’re not really body conscious any more if you were to start with. There’s no time for it, and the training strips away that kind of stuff.

‘Harry needs someone to open up to. Someone he can trust not to spill his confidences, someone who’ll be on his side, but also someone who isn’t romantically involved with him. I think that to get Harry to open up to me, he has to be comfortable, really comfortable with me. He admires Dumbledore – or at least he used to – but he didn’t share all his problems with him. He’s an authority figure. You and Ron are his closest friends but he doesn’t seem to share the really deep stuff with you, and he doesn’t want to bother you with some stuff because I reckon he doesn’t want to impose on you. So I decided to try being an accepting big sister to him. Stronger than him in some ways, comforting and comfortable without any heavy emotional baggage.’ She looked at Hermione who nodded, still a little uncertain.

‘I think it’s been working, too,’ she went on with a little pride in her voice. ‘He lets me comfort him when he’s feeling down. I’ve been trying to teach him about flirting and teasing, too, and he seems to be getting that lesson. I’ve been teaching him not to be shy with me by not being shy with him, and that seems to be working too.’ She giggled for a moment in recollection.

‘What?’ prompted Hermione.

Tonks smirked. ‘I’ll tell you about last time Snape visited in a moment. Anyway, he doesn’t seem to react to me in a sexual way, either, despite opportunity and teasing.’ Tonks smiled at Hermione’s shocked face, and added, ‘At a guess I’d say you’ll be pretty happy with that, lover-girl. I wouldn’t have minded if it’d happened, but I reckon he’s saving himself for someone. Maybe it’s you.’

Hermione held up her hands, blushing a little and shaking her head in protest. ‘No, no, I don’t think that’s the case....’ She trailed off, unable to continue.

Shrugging, Tonks waited while Hermione took in her speech, giving her an opportunity to ask questions. She watched the younger girl’s expression as embarrassed shock faded and understanding began to dawn. ‘I see you’re getting it,’ said Tonks at last. ‘But let me spell it out for you. Harry no longer seems to attach any particular importance to seeing me nude, and he doesn’t seem to mind me seeing him either. Last time Snape came, by the time he was done Harry was so tired I had to bathe him and put him to bed, and when he started yelling for Sirius in his sleep half an hour later he needed skin to skin contact to calm him down.’ Tonks smirked, adding, ‘That morning was the time I really tested the sexual side of things, too, and he passed with flying colours. As I said, I wouldn’t have said no if he had wanted to, but he didn’t, and he even managed to react well to my teasing.

‘You need to understand, Hermione, that he’s a little brother to me. I love him to bits and I really don’t want to see him hurt. There’s nothing in our relationship to compete with you-and-him.’

‘How many times do I have to tell you there’s no me-and-him?’ asked Hermione, exasperated. Tonks just smiled. After a moment Hermione settled down, and began to think about what Tonks had told her. ‘I think I see,’ she said. ‘You didn’t want walls so that Harry didn’t feel closed in and so you could react to his needs, and you’ve worked to reduce his shyness so that he didn’t feel uncomfortable with the compromises the open-plan layout involves?’

Tonks nodded, smiling. ‘You could treat him the same way if you want, but I think you might find it awkward; I know Harry would. That’s part of the reason your “bedroom” isn’t visible from Harry’s.’

It was Hermione’s turn to nod. ‘The comfortable-with-nudity thing won’t work between Harry and I unless we’re lovers or in a sister-brother relationship.’ She looked at Tonks apologetically, seriously. ‘I don’t think I’m ready for that, Tonks.... For either of them.’ She blushed ferociously.

‘Keep your options open,’ said Tonks with a wicked smirk. Hermione’s blush deepened and Tonks finally pulled Hermione into a hug. ‘I wanted to have this talk with you is so that you don’t get all bent outta shape if I jump into his bed to comfort him if he’s having nightmares,’ she said. ‘I’m absolutely sure the poor boy’s never been loved before, not really, and I’m not gonna stop comforting him just because you’re here.’ Tonks’ eyes twinkled. ‘Of course, if you want to help out with the comforting thing I wouldn’t object, it’s just holding him to reassure him in his sleep, but I’ll understand if you don’t.’

‘The relationship angle,’ said Hermione, her expression somewhat unhappy.

‘Well, not quite like you think, lover girl. I’m absolutely sure that even if you turned up in his bed, naked, nothing would happen until you told him explicitly that it’s okay.’

Hermione goggled at Tonks. ‘Really?’ she asked in disbelief.

Tonks nodded, solemn for once. ‘I told you I tested him. He’s got all the right attitudes, he’s just way too shy and doesn’t know how to have fun. No, no, it’s just that if you do take to comforting him you might find that it’s hard to go back to sleeping alone.’

‘Oh,’ said Hermione, still looking at the floor, a small, sheepish smile on her face.

‘Plus he’s very impressively built,’ added Tonks mischievously. ‘You might find discovering that for yourself embarrassing, lover girl.’

Hermione blushed once again, a deep cherry-pink, but she looked up and her eyes sparkled mischievously. ‘What did Harry call you? Nymph? I must say I think you live up to your name,’ she said, finishing with a grin.

‘Well done!’ said Tonks, applauding lightly. The two girls shared a giggle.

‘So, how did you find out?’ asked Hermione, still giggly as she leaned closer to Tonks conspiratorially.

‘Well, it was the night I told you about earlier, the last time Snape came...’

* * *

An orange-pink presence coloured the right side of Harry’s world and a touch on his shoulder brought him out of his meditation. A peaceful feeling pervaded his being despite being jerked out of the meditative state, and he glanced up happily at the person who had brought him out of it.

‘Hermione?’ he said uncertainly.

‘Are you ready for some drills?’ she asked him. ‘It’s three o’clock, Nymph said it’s time to start.’

Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione’s use of that name. ‘You two had a good talk, then?’

Hermione nodded happily, then leaned forward to hug Harry about the shoulders. ‘Harry, I’m so glad she’s been here for you. I wish I could have come here earlier.’

A shadow passed across Harry’s eyes. ‘I’m sure your parents missed you too,’ he said.

‘You’re very important to me, too,’ she said softly. ‘Harry, will you let me help you like Tonks has?’

‘What?’ asked Harry in confusion.

‘You’re my best friend, Harry, and I want to be able to comfort you and help you.’

Harry frowned, still confused, and he searched for meaning in Hermione’s eyes. ‘I still don’t understand, ‘Mione,’ he said. ‘I’m just a stupid guy, you’ll have to spell it out for me.’

Hermione’s eyes flashed. ‘You’re not stupid, Harry Potter! You. Are. Not. Stupid! You’re smart and brave and handsome and I trust you absolutely. You’ve saved my life, you’ve protected me from a thousand dangers, you’ve helped me when I needed it and you’ve accepted my help when you needed it. You are such a good teacher your students substantially outperform the national average. You are constant and steadfast and... and...’

‘You’re my best friend too, Hermione,’ said Harry softly. He leaned forward to cup her cheek with his hand. She leaned into his hand and smiled brilliantly at him, and his heart skipped a beat. He felt her lean towards him and he leaned forward to meet her, resting her forehead against hers. He felt a burst of closeness to this girl but was surprised when Hermione took his head in her hands and kissed his forehead. Hermione held him to her briefly before letting go. She sat back and watched his reaction.

Harry could not help but smile happily. ‘I’d like to give you something,’ he said. ‘May I make you a ring?’

‘Make?’ asked Hermione, surprised.

Harry nodded. ‘Make. A friendship ring.’ He pulled one of the small gold bars Moody had acquired for him from his pocket and laid it in the palm of his off hand. He then took his wand and concentrated. Settling himself, he breathed deeply and calmed himself, visualising the design he wanted. Feeling his happiness and the depth of his friendship with Hermione and visualising it flowing towards his wand, he reverently he moved the wand in the prescribed pattern and muttered ‘Sigil Patronii Conjurus!’ under his breath. In response, there formed on the palm of his hand a gold ring. The band was two bands of gold formed into a flat twist. At one point the twist stopped and was replaced by a small flat area which bore a quartered coat of arms. He took the now-smaller gold ingot and slid it into his shirt pocket, then took the ring between his fingers. He held it out to Hermione. ‘This is a sign of my respect and love,’ he said. ‘Wear it as a reminder of our friendship.’ His words had a slightly sing-song nature to them, as though he was quoting something.

She held out her right hand, ring finger prominent. ‘Put it on me, Harry.’ Drawing a deep breath, Harry slid it onto her finger. It fit perfectly. As it slid home, Harry kissed her fingers and the ring. Hermione hugged him tightly.

Loud clapping interrupted them. ‘Nice one, lover boy,’ said Tonks loudly. ‘Did you two want to spend the afternoon canoodling or are we going to do some drills?’

Both teens blushed furiously. Harry met Hermione’s eyes and understanding flashed between them. ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Difficult choice,’ he said with a mischievous grin.

‘Tricky,’ agreed Hermione, who also could not help but smile.

‘Drill?’ he prompted.

‘Drill,’ she agreed. Hermione stood up and, retaining Harry’s hand, assisted him out of the chair. He stumbled a little as he stood up. ‘Aww, has poor Hawwy’s leg gone to sleep?’ she teased. He grinned at her, did a deep knee bend and shook the leg to get blood circulating, then nodded.

* * *

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

29 July, 1996

Dear Mr. Potter,

Thank you for your letter of 25 July in which you question your mark for your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL. I agree that you appear to have a worthwhile case to support an appeal for contestation of your mark, and as your head of House it will be my pleasure to assist you in the conduct of this appeal. I have sent notification the appeal to the relevant Ministry personnel and will keep you advised of its progress.

In the meantime, I remind you that your NEWT course selections are due by Monday, 5 August. On this basis of your appeal and my personal knowledge of your capabilities I can assure you of entry into the NEWT Preparation Defence Against the Dark Arts program if you should choose to request it regardless of your OWL grade.

I look forward to receiving your NEWT course requests.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Head of House, Gryffindor; Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Harry put the letter down on the kitchen table to one side of the ruins of his evening meal, and sighed. He picked up an apricot from the fruit bowl and inspected it minutely.

‘Something wrong, Harry?’ asked Hermione from her seat beside him.

Turning his head to face her, he said, ‘It’s good news, really. It’s from McGonagall. She’s handling my DADA appeal and has assured me that if I apply for the NEWT DADA course I’ll be admitted even if the appeal fails’

‘That is good news, isn’t it? So what’s wrong? Something’s bothering you.’

He shrugged. ‘I just...’ He put the apricot down and frowned at the tabletop. ‘I guess I feel guilty. She put in a lot of extra work pushing me to do well in potions, and I didn’t achieve a high enough mark to guarantee acceptance. Snape has to consider all applicants, but he’s only actually required to accept students with an “O” mark. If I apply he’ll probably laugh himself silly, the spiteful git, and knowing McGonagall she’ll try and get me admitted anyway because she’s pledged to try and make sure I make it into Auror Academy.’

Tonks put down her knife heavily. It rattled noisily on the table. ‘Harry, you’re being self-centred again,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you just write a letter to Professor McGonagall thanking her for her assistance on the DADA appeal and, while you’re at it, tell her about this thing you’re having about the Ministry? Then let her make up her own mind? If you don’t tell her she might waste effort as you suggest, but if you do tell her she can decide for herself. Right?!’

Harry shrank from Tonks, then blushed and nodded. ‘Yes, Nymph,’ he said. Taking the apricot he stood abruptly and stepped quickly over to the library where he jotted a quick note. A couple of minutes later Hedwig was on her way to Hogwarts, flying in the wake of the earlier messenger owl. Hermione kept quiet during the whole time, but when Harry returned to the table she put her arm around his waist and hugged him supportively.

‘Have you thought about what courses you’re going to apply for, Harry?’ asked Hermione after a moment. ‘We have to choose at least five courses, and may do up to seven.’

Smiling weakly at her, Harry said, ‘I suppose you’re planning to do Charms, Potions, DADA, Transfiguration, Herbology, Runes, and Arithmancy?’

‘Yes,’ said Hermione with a smile. ‘So, at a guess you’ll be doing Charms, DADA, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology, and Creatures? Will you be adding on a seventh course from the vocational units?’

Harry shook his head. ‘It seems a waste to do Creatures at the NEWT level,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to think of how I’m going to defeat Riddle... er, sorry, Voldemort. Everything I do needs to be aimed at that.’

Hermione looked at him worriedly. ‘But what about after you defeat him? What then? Surely you’ll need a proper set of NEWTs then?’

‘I’ll deal with that then,’ said Harry glumly. ‘If I survive, I’ll have plenty of time and money to try and figure out what I want to do. Other than find a wife and rebuild the Clan Potter, of course,’ he said with a ghost of a smile.

* * *

In the Headmaster’s Office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore sat working on paperwork as a fire burned cheerily in the office’s fireplace holding off the mild chill of the mid-summer Scottish night. Suddenly he paused, put aside his quill, and looked up at the door. ‘Come in, Minerva,’ he said even though there had been no knock.

The door opened, and Minerva McGonagall stepped inside. Waiting until she had closed the door, Dumbledore asked, ‘And what can I do for you this fine evening?’

‘Mr. Potter has written to me.’

Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles, a worried expression on his face. ‘Ah? Please, do take a seat,’ he said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk.

‘We may have a problem,’ said McGonagall. ‘I gather that his disillusionment with the Ministry has reached the point of no return. He writes that he no longer wishes to become an Auror, and asks my advice for courses that would maximise his likelihood of, er...’ She quickly donned her reading glasses and read from a piece of parchment, ‘Of defeating “that murderer Riddle.”’ She put away the note in her robes and deftly removed her glasses. ‘I assume he refers to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.’

‘Oh, dear,’ said Dumbledore. ‘The simplest way of giving Harry the training he needs to avoid incidental attacks was by training him as an Auror. You are sure of this?’

‘Obviously I can only be guided by what he writes, but you know how Mr. Potter has been treated by the Minister and his supporters.’

‘Yes, yes, quite so.’ Dumbledore steepled his fingers and composed his features as he thought. A knocking at the door interrupted his ruminations. ‘Come in, Severus, and please take a seat. We were just discussing young Harry. How did the Occlumency session go?’

Severus Snape entered the office and sat primly in the remaining armchair in front of Dumbledore’s desk. ‘Poorly,’ he said by way of reply to the Headmaster. The other two saw that despite appearing outwardly normal, Snape was deeply exhausted.

‘Oh?’ said Dumbledore. ‘How so?’

‘The boy has grown in strength in his mediation technique but was distracted by the presence of the Granger girl. I was able to gain access after only an hour,’ he sneered. ‘There was no sign of the boy’s senses showing him the way to a truly efficient shield but the power of his brute-force technique is surprising.’

‘I see no problem so far, Severus,’ said Dumbledore.

Holding himself rigidly, Snape continued. ‘He has no concept of a quiescent shield. If he is not actively protecting his mind, it is wide open. However, it is what happened near the end of our session that was “poorly,”’ he said. ‘In an attempt to encourage him, I pointed out what would happen if he were to face the Dark Lord with such weak shield. He reacted with no emotional control. Seeing that no further work was possible, I left.’

Dumbledore looked at Snape askance. ‘I somehow feel that—Yes, Alastor?’ he asked the suddenly-green flames of his fireplace.

‘Got a message from Tonks for you,’ said the green head of Alastor Moody.

‘Go ahead,’ said Dumbledore tiredly.

‘Message begins: Tell Dumbledore that if Snape does anything like that again I won’t hold Harry back, I’ll help him. I hope he’s happy, he’s probably just undone three weeks of work. Message ends.’

‘Thank you, Alastor. Was there anything else?’

‘No, that’s all. Out.’

The flames burned orange-red again, and Dumbledore looked at both Snape and McGonagall for a long moment. Noticing that McGonagall was about to take Snape to task, Dumbledore cut her off. ‘Thank you both for coming to me this evening,’ he said. ‘We will discuss this further in the morning.’

‘But Headmaster, what are we going to do about...’ McGonagall drifted to a stop as Dumbledore held up his hand.

‘I need to think on this. Please do me the favour of allowing me to contemplate our options overnight. We will discuss this in the morning. Goodnight, Minerva, Severus.’

After the door closed behind the two Heads of house, Dumbledore got up from behind his desk and sank into one of the comfortable wing-back chairs by his fireplace. Fawkes the phoenix glided over and sat in the suddenly old and tired man’s lap, crooning softly.

* * *

In the near-total dark of the attic of 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, Tonks rose from the impromptu meditation session that had followed her brief message to Moody and wandered over to Harry’s bed. The oversized tee-shirt she wore, inspired by Hermione’s choice of sleepwear, seemed to glow whitely in the moonlight which glanced in one of the windows. She sat on the edge of the bed where Hermione, also dressed in her underwear and an oversized tee-shirt, held a now-sleeping Harry. ‘How is he?’ asked Tonks quietly.

‘He’s asleep,’ murmured Hermione. ‘What did Snape say to him to do this?’

‘Described a scenario in which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named got wind of your relationship from Harry’s weak little head and promptly and personally tortured, raped, and murdered you and your parents, all in the name of inspiring Harry to greater efforts,’ snarled Tonks. ‘And he did it so nicely, too.’ Hermione stilled in outrage, struggling to keep from lashing out with Harry in her arms.

‘S’okay, ‘Mione,’ came Harry’s tired voice. Hermione and Tonks looked down to see Harry looking back up at them.

‘I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ said Tonks contritely.

Harry turned to release himself a little from Hermione’s embrace and put one hand on Tonks’ arm. ‘He had to do it,’ he said. ‘It’s the only way he....’ Harry closed his eyes and continued, ‘I got a glimpse... I think I finally understand what he’s talking about.’ He yawned again. ‘What he said, it’d never happen, ‘Mione isn’t defenceless an’ the Order guards her parents. Besides, it’s not like ‘Mione ’n me ’re really in a relationship.’ He didn’t notice Hermione’s breath catch at his tired statement.

Tonks sighed deeply, the last of her anger washing out of her with her breath. ‘Are you okay, Harry?’ she asked as she glanced at Hermione in brief concern.

He nodded. ‘Comfortable... warm. Don’t leave, please.’ She shared another glance with Hermione. Harry was being uncharacteristically open. Hermione nodded at Tonks’ silent enquiry and slid into bed next to Harry. She adjusted her nightshirt and lay down even as Tonks slid into the bed on Harry’s other side. Harry squirmed in simple, unconscious delight as Tonks hugged him lightly from behind and then he was fully asleep, as limp as a rag doll.

For a long time Hermione lay there, listening to Harry’s breathing and the quiet almost-sounds that Tonks made. For some reason she could not sleep. Perhaps it was the feeling of another person’s body warmth that kept her awake, perhaps the subtle movement of the bed as one of the others moved in their sleep. She wanted to read a little before sleep as she always did and she was a little annoyed that she could not... but at length she realised that she was not annoyed, she was comfortable and happy. My, what an unexpected day, was her last thought as she faded out to sleep.

5. Planning

The Time of Change

by Olafr (olafr@iinet.net.au)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13

Last updated: 2 April 2004. Revision 3 – pre-beta version incorporating changes consequential to beta reads of earlier chapters

Author’s Notes: I’ve noticed how slowly the summer is going. I always wondered how it was that JKR seemed to take forever to get around to starting the school year in GoF, but now I guess I know. Still no sign of Draco and his machinations, but they’re coming, they’re coming. *evil laugh*
5.
Planning

Hermione awoke for the sixth time to see the light of true dawn peeking in through the undraped dormer windows. The first tinges of golden sunlight painted the cathedral roof far above, and she lay there for a moment and admired the play of light and wood. She could almost see the lit patch move, and she almost fell asleep again, her heavy eyes closing as she was mesmerised by its inch-wise movement down the ceiling towards the wall.

Last night had been hard. Harry had cried out several times in his sleep, waking her from her nervous, light doze. He had called for Sirius, then later in an anguished, pain-filled voice that almost broke her heart to hear he had called for her and for Tonks, begged them not to leave him. Each time a hand on his cheek or brow had calmed him. One time, the worst time, his scar had been hot and it had taken hugs and calming voices from both her and Tonks to soothe him.

Propping herself up on one elbow, Hermione studied Harry’s sleeping face. Yesterday, awake, he had been in turns happy, calm, curious, and joyful; he looked healthy, fit, and well-rested. Now, however, she saw that the corners of his mouth were turned down slightly in his sleep. As she watched his brows scrunched together in a frown, his eyelids showing the movement of his eyes beneath the lids. REM-sleep, Hermione told herself, the state of dreaming. I wonder what he’s dreaming about?

Whatever it was, it did not appear to be pleasant. For a time Harry lay utterly still, as if drugged, then his head began to move and his expression moved towards disgust and terror. Hermione knew that the body did not generally move whilst in REM-sleep but even as she watched his eyes stilled and, with a low groan of agony, Harry began to move about. Tan limbs encircled Harry as Tonks woke and moved to comfort him. ‘Shh, Harry, it’s okay,’ she said quietly, but if anything his thrashing only became more energetic.

Horrified, Hermione watched as Harry’s scar became red and inflamed. She felt utterly helpless as Harry writhed, keening in agony as he thrashed about against Tonks’ now-firm grasp. An intuition came to her and she laid the back of her hand against Harry’s forehead. The scar was unnaturally hot and she hurriedly conjured a cool, damp cloth. She folded it until it formed a pad and gently pressed it to the scar which was by now showing signs of starting to weep blood.

Eventually, Harry calmed slightly. He was sweating. Hermione took away the magically-cool cloth and saw that his scar had left an imprint of blood on it but it appeared much less inflamed than before. On impulse Hermione leaned forward a little and with a hopeful, mental, Kiss it better, kissed the scar.

A sudden gasp, quickly cut off, and the stiffening of his body told her that Harry had at last awoken. She pulled back and looked at him in concern. He was looking at her with tired eyes, a pleased expression on his face. ‘Hermione?’ he asked uncertainly.

‘Was it Voldemort?’ she asked him.

He nodded and tried to sit up but Tonks’ encircling arms held him down. He turned his head and smiled at Tonks, saying, ‘Nym, I’ve got to write it down while I remember it clearly.’

Tonks shook her head. ‘Nuh uh, Harry,’ she said. ‘You’re trembling, you’re staying in bed until I get a restorative potion into you.’

‘Tonks...’ he began, frowning.

‘No, Harry,’ she said clearly. ‘Hermione’ll get you a paper and quill, I’ll get the potion, you can write it all down and then you can go to the bathroom.’ She waited until he nodded before slipping from the bed and hurrying to her side of the attic. Nearly to her wardrobe, she somehow tripped over the corner of a rug and fell flat on her face. A faint, ‘Bugger!’ floated through the attic and both Harry and Hermione snickered.

Hermione had conjured a small writing desk complete with a magnificent eagle-feather quill by the time Tonks returned with a large phial of a familiar, sparkling-blue potion. She had got parchment and ink from Harry’s desk. Harry looked up at Tonks briefly before taking the potion and quaffing it in one draft. Making a face at the taste he quickly recapped the phial and returned it to her. ‘Eugh, that stuff tastes awful,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Thanks, Nymph,’ he said to Tonks with a weak smile. His eyes told her that they would be discussing how she happened to have a stock of the particular restorative potion that just happened to relieve the after-effects of Cruciatus – and how she knew he needed it – later, before he bent and began to scratch out an account of Voldemort’s sending.

Later, after an abbreviated exercise period which left Hermione weak with muscular overuse and newly-appreciative of the restorative effects of a long, hot shower, the three sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Hermione had offered to cook to spare Harry the effort and to prevent Tonks from taking charge in the kitchen, but Tonks had gently refused and had cooked up a pleasant meal of scrambled eggs on toast, bacon, fried tomatoes and wilted spinach garnished with pine nuts.

They had not spoken except for things like ‘Would you pass the salt please, Hermione?’ and Tonks had passed Harry’s note to Dumbledore to Moody for transmission. Now, however, the meal was done and Hermione was anxious for the talking to begin.

Harry beat her to it, however. ‘Thank you, Hermione,’ he said. At her surprised expression, he added, ‘For being there for me. I’m just sorry that the very night you come, Riddle decided he just had to make my life difficult after leaving me alone all summer so far. It can’t have been pleasant for you, but I felt you there and it helped.’ He smiled gently at her, and Hermione found herself smiling in return. She took his hand and gripped it tightly.

‘I won’t pretend I got a good night’s sleep, Harry, but you’re more than welcome. I’m just glad I was able to help you,’ she said.

* * *

‘Minerva, Severus, thank you so much for your promptness,’ said Dumbledore as he led the two professors to a smallish circular table which sat with three carved chairs in the area normally reserved for the headmaster’s astronomical instruments. A lavish breakfast sat on the table, ready to be eaten. The dome was open to the sky, and the gentle summer sun shone out of clear blue sky to bless the setting. Breathtaking views of the Hogwarts grounds, the lake, and the mountains beyond showed over the low stone parapet. ‘Please, take a seat and help yourselves.’ Suiting action to word, Dumbledore took a sausage, an egg Florentine, and some breakfast potatoes before leaning back to nibble contemplatively.

Snape and McGonagall said nothing as they, too, ate lightly. They had repositioned their chairs so that they were as far from each other as possible, Dumbledore was amused to note.

Finished with breakfast, Dumbledore stood and faced to the south. For a long moment he stood with his head back and eyes closed, gesturing with his wand and muttering incoherently. At length he stood straight again and gazed, smiling, over the other two. ‘I have good news,’ he pronounced. ‘Harry may leave Privet Drive at any time. The blood protection has regained its full strength.’

Snape nodded neutrally while McGonagall smiled. ‘He has been invited to stay with Miss Granger, has he not, Albus?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ said Dumbledore. The old man stooped over the table pouring tea for the three of them, then took his cup and resumed his seat. He breathed over the surface of the tea then sipped, finally leaning back, his beatific smile reflecting enjoyment of the simple pleasures in life. After a long moment he composed himself and said, ‘Miss Granger is currently staying with Harry and Nymphadora at Privet Drive, and the three of them will be relocating to the Grangers’ residence in Wimbledon on the Sixth of August.’

A silence stretched between the three, then Dumbledore broached a new topic. ‘Severus, do you think there is value in persisting with your Occlumency training with Harry?’

Snape did not answer immediately, instead looking out over the magnificent vista, to all appearances enjoying the warming sunlight on his dark clothes in the utterly still morning air. A teacup was clasped steadily in his long, elegant fingers. Eventually he sipped his tea and turned his gaze to Dumbledore. He looked a little uncertain. ‘I do not believe so, Headmaster.’

‘But?’ asked Dumbledore after a beat.

‘Perhaps you should ask golden-boy Potter.’

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall stared at Snape in surprise. ‘Excuse me?’ asked McGonagall.

Snape sighed and shrugged eloquently, his tiredness now showing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Development of mage senses is an internal thing, from what I have read. He may be seeing results that I do not. Also, as far as straight Occlumency is concerned, Potter still has no quiescent shield and he must continue to work at it until he develops one. I have no idea whether the Dark Lord has gained access to Potter’s mind again. Judging by the lack of reports from the boy’s guard I would say not, but it is always difficult to tell what the Dark Lord is feeling. Potter has the link. For all that he is an uneducated, impatient brat, Potter is far more likely to have a useful insight in this area than I.’ Snape spat the last words, as if they somehow tasted bad.

‘I will ask him whether anything unusual occurred, and whether he feels he would gain benefit from continued training,’ said Dumbledore, cutting across McGonagall’s heated response. He turned his gaze to her. ‘On a related subject, I would like to discuss Harry’s course load for the coming year before sending a letter to him with suggestions.’

‘That is not a courtesy afforded most students, Headmaster,’ said Snape sharply, his old indignation at any special treatment of the Boy-Who-Lived settling upon him like a well-worn, comfortable cloak.

‘Harry’s rejection of the Aurory as a potential career path both offers opportunities and causes problems,’ said Dumbledore. ‘For example, the subject of Potions. Severus, were you planning to offer Mr. Potter a place in NEWT Potions?’

‘I am loathe to lower my standards, Headmaster,’ he said stiffly. ‘NEWT Potions is not a subject for the weak of mind or the careless; for those not thoroughly grounded it can be quite dangerous. I am very much of the belief that students who did not achieve an ‘O’ OWL belong in Everyday Potions, not NEWT Potions. Potter scored an ‘E’. However... there were only four students who scored an “O” OWL this year. There were twenty-six ‘E’ grades in this year’s OWLs, so I do not see how I could offer NEWT places to all ‘E’ students.’ He paused, considering. ‘I may consider allowing certain ‘E’ students admission. Mr. Malfoy only scored an ‘E’, for example. I was not looking forward to telling Narcissa that her child didn’t make the grade, and life might have been difficult should Lucius reappear were I not to ensure he gained admittance to NEWT potions.’

McGonagall sat forward. ‘Does Mr. Potter actually need to take NEWT Potions, Albus? You will recall he wrote asking for advice on courses specifically aimed at defeating You-Know-Who.’

Silence stretched between the three once again, made more intense by the sounds of birds that came from the background. At length, Dumbledore sighed and said, ‘Severus? What do you think?’

Snape mouth twisted as though he had bitten a persimmon. ‘Potter needs to be able to recognise potions, at least,’ he said. ‘And the component-based curriculum of NEWT Potions will certainly suit his developing senses better than the cookbook approach of Everyday Potions... assuming they develop at all,’ he growled.

‘Would Harry be unsafe in NEWT Potions, Severus? Are his lab skills sufficiently developed?’

‘If he doesn’t have the distractions of Weasley or that walking disaster Longbottom, he will be all right if he pays attention.’ He sat straight, frowning. ‘Very well, Headmaster, I will offer a place to Potter.’

Dumbledore smiled. ‘You could, of course, emphasise the degree of special treatment you offer to the children of Death Eaters if it would help your position, Severus.’

Snape shook his head. ‘No. With the exception of Draco, one of the others would survive the third week, favouritism or not. Only Miss Zabini would be safe, and she earned an “O” OWL. As always, most of my NEWT students will be Ravenclaws.’ He got to his feet. ‘Would you excuse me please, Headmaster?’

Dumbledore waved graciously. ‘Of course, Severus. Go and get your rest, and thank you for coming so promptly. I will see you this afternoon to settle the remainder of your NEWT placements. Shall we say around four o’clock?’

‘Thank you, Headmaster,’ said Snape as he left in a flurry of black robes. Dumbledore took a Palmier almost as large as his face and nibbled daintily at one edge of the crisp, flaky, honey-flavoured pastry.

‘Delicious,’ said Dumbledore.

‘So Mr. Potter’s load will be Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and...?’ said McGonagall.

‘I believe I shall encourage Mr. Potter to take Theory of Magic and Healing in addition to Physical Defence. I shall also encourage him to continue that excellent Defence Association of his.’ Dumbledore looked over his half-moon glasses at his vice-Headmaster. ‘Do you think he will have enough time for Quidditch with all that, plus special tutoring?’

‘He should have no problem this year, although he may not necessarily agree with that evaluation,’ said McGonagall with a wry smile. ‘As for next year, we shall have to see. Speaking of Defence, have you managed to secure...?’

Dumbledore smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling and his smile somehow feline. ‘Yes. Yes, I have.’

* * *

Harry and Hermione sat in the library, studying. Tonks read also, reviewing a thick tome on defensive magic. It was late morning. Harry broke the silent tableau by closing his book – Sensing the Insensible – and getting out his wand. Hermione looked up.

‘Wingardium Leviosa,’ said Harry softly with the appropriate wand gestures. Obediently one of the other books rose about a foot off the table, then sank down again. ‘Wingardium Leviosa,’ he muttered again. Again the book rose, and fell. Again Harry cast the charm, this time with his eyes closed, and in response the whole table rose.

‘Harry!’ shrieked Hermione in surprise. His eyes jerked open although the table remained steady in mid-air. Shocked and chagrined, Harry allowed the table to sink to the floor again.

‘Sorry, missed,’ he said red-faced.

‘It serves you right for casting with your eyes closed!’ said Hermione sharply.

‘Great control, though,’ chortled Tonks.

‘I’m sorry, Hermione,’ said Harry contritely.

Hermione smiled at Harry’s somewhat woebegone expression. ‘It’s okay, Harry, I’m not upset, I was just surprised. Just be careful, okay?’

‘Sure.’

‘What were you doing, anyway?’

‘Trying a test the book describes. I’m supposed to be able to “visualise the threads of magic.”’ Looking down at his lap, Harry added, ‘No luck so far.’

‘Cheer up, lover boy,’ said Tonks heartily. ‘I’m sure it’ll come to you in its own time.’ Hermione smiled, then glanced at the book Harry had put down. With a look of ah-hah! on her face, she grabbed it and quickly paged through the book. Harry and Tonks shared glances but maintained their silence as they waited for Hermione.

It only took a couple of minutes. ‘I thought so,’ she said didactically. Looking up at Harry, she gestured with the book and smiled encouragingly. ‘It says that it is easier at first to detect strong magic. So why not do something that requires a little more power than levitating a book?’

Tonks put down her book and stood. ‘Yeah, go on, lover boy,’ she said. ‘Get over to the exercise area and do something that requires some real power.’

Harry felt a sense of mischief rise within himself and he gave into his impulse. ‘Why would I do that, Nymph? Wingardium Leviosa!’

This time it was Tonks who rose, squawking, six feet in the air. Harry manoeuvred her this way and that, ignoring her protests. For her part, Tonks, at first greatly disconcerted, began to enjoy the sensation of unpowered flight and stuck out her arms, flapping them like a bird. Hermione, at first a little shocked, quickly began giggling as Tonks twittered her way about the library under Harry’s control before he eventually deposited her on his bed, the nearest soft surface.

‘No luck,’ he said.

‘Did you have to strain? Exert yourself?’ put in Hermione before Harry could get himself down again. ‘It certainly didn’t look like it.’

Harry shook his head and looked to her intensely. ‘No. You’re right, ‘Mione. Do you have any ideas?’ He looked around at the walls and ceiling. ‘Oh well, I’m not sure it’d be such a good idea right now. I suppose the anti-detection wards have a limit to how much magic they’ll hide.’

Hermione took one elbow in her hand and tapped the index finger of the other hand against her mouth, frowning in thought. Then her face cleared and she relaxed her arms and took a half-step forward, saying, ‘Why not find a disused quarry somewhere and try boring holes? I’m sure I saw a boring spell somewhere. You can put all your strength into it without worrying about doing any damage.’

‘That’s a great idea, ‘Mione!’

‘Now just a moment, Harry!’ interrupted Tonks.

Harry’s face fell. ‘Yeah, I know, Tonks. I know.’ He collapsed back into his seat, elbows on his knees. ‘No excursions, no excuses.’ He looked up at the open window wistfully. Tonks rolled off Harry’s bed and padded over to stand before him. She put a hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s not so bad, Harry. I’m sure the wards’ll be up to strength any day now and you’ll be able to leave. D’ya think the trip to the Grangers’ would’ve been permitted if Dumbledore wasn’t quite sure everything’d be okay by then?’

Harry nodded silently but maintained his dejected demeanour. Hermione leaned forward and said, ‘Don’t worry, Harry. Once we get to my house, we can go swimming or walking every day if you want.’

‘You’ll be running, actually,’ said Tonks matter-of-factly.

Harry was about to reply when the oddest feeling he’d ever felt burst upon him, so strongly it was almost painful, and he could not stop himself from jerking backwards with a gasp. His eyes flew open just in time to see Fawkes materialise in mid-air almost directly above his head. The identification ward dropped a momentary hash of letters before his mind’s eye before going quiet again and then Fawkes was moving, his magnificent red and gold wings spreading to take his weight against the air so he would not fall on his intended target. That he may not be Fawkes’ target never entered Harry’s mind.

‘Is that Fawkes?’ asked Hermione, who had looked around in surprise at Harry’s sudden movement, as the phoenix glided in for a landing on the left wing of Harry’s wing-back chair.

‘Yes it is,’ said Harry with a smile. ‘Hello, boy,’ he said affectionately to Fawkes. ‘I see the Headmaster has a message for me. May I take it?’

Fawkes trilled and Harry felt the warmth and relaxation of the phoenix’s song flow through him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tonks perch on the arm of a Hermione’s chair but he gave Fawkes his respect by never taking his eyes from the bird. It was the work of only a moment to retrieve the parchment and Fawkes trilled again, ruffling his feathers and showing no signs of departing.

‘You are to await a reply?’ Harry asked after a moment. Approving warmth flooded him again, and he nodded to Fawkes before turning his attention to the letter. As he cracked Dumbledore’s personal seal – a bumblebee – he noticed both Hermione and Tonks staring at him. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, vaguely surprised at their reaction.

Neither responded, so putting it out of his mind he opened the letter and began to read.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

30 July, 1996

Dear Harry,

I trust you are well and not yet stir-crazy from your enforced confinement at Privet Drive. I know it could not have been easy for you, just as it was in no way easy for Sirius to be locked up at Headquarters. Another regret, but one I could see no alternative to at the time... or now.

I write with good news. The blood protection is once again at full strength and you may now leave the confines of your Aunt’s house. This of course means that your visit to the Grangers’ may now proceed as planned. However I urge you not to put yourself about without good reason. Please take the time to learn disguise and misdirection charms from Tonks before venturing out.

Professor Snape wishes to know whether you wish to continue Occlumency lessons with him. He will not be insulted if you choose not to, but he feels that there is still more you need to achieve despite your success at deflecting full-power probes when prepared. Specifically he notes that you have no full-time quiescent shield of your mind, something that is needed to ensure that Voldemort cannot enter your mind by catching you unawares. If you would let me know in your reply to this letter, I will pass on your reply to Professor Snape on your behalf.

In a letter to Professor McGonagall you asked for course advice. She came to me for assistance with your request, and I made some enquiries on your behalf. Perhaps you might consider the following course load:

NEWT Preparation Defence Against the Dark Arts

NEWT Preparation Charms

NEWT Preparation Transfiguration

NEWT Preparation Potions

NEWT Preparation Theory of Magic

NEWT Preparation Healing

Introductory Physical Defence

In addition to the above, I wonder if I might prevail upon you to continue the D.A., although as a sanctioned student organisation. Perhaps you might rename it the Defence Association and allow students from any house; as flattering as its old name was I fear the school board might find it a little difficult to accept. I look forward to discussing the details of any continuance with yourself and Miss Granger when the opportunity arises.

Let me once again state my regret that I will not be able to offer you a position as Prefect this year. However, if you will permit me – assuming you do indeed agree to continue the D.A. as outlined above – then I wish to make the head of the D.A. a position with special status with privileges similar to those of a prefect. I look forward to discussing this, too, with you and Miss Granger at a convenient time.

Fawkes is, as you know, a most secure messenger and he will await your reply.

Albus Dumbledore

Harry sighed and let the hand holding the letter flop down to the arm of the chair. ‘Seven courses, plus the D.A.?’ he said weakly. ‘I should have known better than to ask.’

‘Professor Dumbledore wants us to continue the D.A.?’ asked Hermione happily. She was almost bouncing up and down with joy. At Harry’s nod and smile she asked, ‘May I see?’

‘What’s the D.A.?’ asked Tonks as Harry handed the letter to Hermione. Taking the letter, Hermione saw the text swim and reform into another letter, this one addressed to her.

‘Conformant text charm,’ she muttered as she started to read.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster

30 July, 1996

Dear Miss Granger,

Since I know you are staying with Harry and Nymphadora I thought I would take it upon myself to make a few suggestions for your coming school year.

As you will no doubt be aware, I have suggested to Harry that the D.A. continue as a sanctioned organisation at Hogwarts. For you, I request that you consider continuing as second-in-charge of that organisation, assuming Harry also agrees. I plan to make the position of Head of the D.A. a privileged position.

I suggest you consider the following courses for your 6th year:

NEWT Preparation Defence Against the Dark Arts

NEWT Preparation Charms

NEWT Preparation Transfiguration

NEWT Preparation Potions

NEWT Preparation Theory of Magic

NEWT Preparation Ancient Runes

NEWT Preparation Arithmancy

NEWT Preparation Healing

This is one more than the recommended maximum of seven NEWT subjects, but your professors and I agree that you have shown that you are capable of bearing the load.

You may wish to send your response with Fawkes. He is a most secure messenger.

Albus Dumbledore

Hermione leaped up from her chair opposite Harry and sat down at the library desk where she had left her parchment, ink and quill previously.

‘Hermione?’ asked Harry. Hermione dashed over again and took Harry’s hand.

‘Oh, Harry, this is going to be such a great year!’

‘What did Dumbledore write to you? I noticed the writing change as you took it.’

‘He wants us to continue the D.A.! You will, won’t you Harry?’

Harry looked away, sighing. ‘He’s suggested six NEWT courses plus something called physical defence, that’s seven courses. Plus quidditch... I really don’t know, ‘Mione.’ Hermione frowned and took his head in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

‘Harry Potter, you were doing more OWL courses than that last year. And you did well!’ She smiled, adding, ‘I have confidence in you, Harry. And if your list is anything like mine we drop Herbology and Creatures for more useful courses like Healing and Theory of Magic. If that’s the case you share all your courses with me except Physical Defence. I can’t wait!’

Tonks placed a hand on each teenager’s shoulder. Harry looked up to see Tonks leaning over him. ‘Is this a private party or can anybody join?’ she asked with a smile. Hermione, surprised, had an apologetic look on her face but a squeeze from Tonks’ other hand on her shoulder silenced her. She leaned forward and said softly, ‘It’s okay, Hermione.’ She leaned forward the rest of the way and kissed Hermione on the cheek, then Harry. She smiled briefly at Hermione’s stunned expression, and was pleased to note that Harry looked comforted rather than discomfited. ‘But I’m his bodyguard, and yours, too, now, and I have to know what’s going on.’

Harry and Hermione briefly explained last year’s secret organisation Dumbledore’s Army, its genesis in the teaching of Umbridge, and the role of six of its senior members in the expedition to the Department of Mysteries. Harry demanded the right to explain Sirius’ presence and his role in his life, leaning heavily on Hermione’s warm support to get himself through the explanation.

‘So Dumbledore wants you two to rename the D.A. to the Defence Association, make it a formal Hogwarts student association, and have you lead it?’ asked Tonks when the explanation was finished. ‘But you don’t know if you can sustain it given your other studies?’

Harry blushed and nodded. ‘I wanted a little time to spend... having fun,’ he said. Hermione nodded in agreement.

‘Professor Dumbledore wrote me that he would make the position of the leader of the D.A. a privileged position,’ said Hermione. ‘The position of Head Boy is privileged, too, according to Hogwarts – A History.’

‘Wow,’ breathed Tonks. ‘Your own room!’ She lowered her voice seductively. ‘Imagine that, lover boy. Just what could you get up to in there?’

Harry looked lost for a moment, then found his mental feet and grinned at Tonks. ‘You wish, Nymph, you wish.’

The banter was interrupted by a squawk from Fawkes, who held out a leg pointedly. Hermione blushed. ‘We have to reply to Professor Dumbledore,’ she said. ‘Harry, what do you want to do? Have you decided?’

‘I still don’t know about the D.A.,’ he said reluctantly. ‘It was only formed because of Umbridge. If we have a decent teacher this year...’

‘I don’t think that matters,’ put in Tonks seriously. ‘You should do it anyway, Harry.’ He stared at her in surprise as she continued, ‘You told me that Dumbledore said all the D.A. members averaged a full grade higher than the rest of last year’s students, right? Training people like that acts to multiply your effectiveness, Harry. You can’t fight fifty Death Eaters by yourself, but fifty well-trained assistants can, freeing you to concentrate on the main game. Through the D.A. you multiply your strength, your effectiveness, should Voldemort ever attack the school. Do you understand?’

Harry nodded hesitantly. ‘I guess so, Nymph. I... I suppose you’re right. The courses look interesting. I... I think I can trust Dumbledore in this, at least. I don’t think he’d ask me to do something I couldn’t do...?’

‘I think you’re right, Harry,’ said Hermione. Tonks nodded, but she didn’t look very happy.

‘I agree, Harry, but I think you need more people on your side. Oh well, at least I’ll be there as well this year so you can talk to me if you need to.’

‘You are?’ asked Hermione in surprise.

‘Sure I will. I’ve been granted a leave of absence from the Aurory and I’ll be there as overall head of security. And Harry’s bodyguard, to tell the truth.’ She grinned wryly at Harry, who returned the expression.

Hermione stood up. ‘Well, we’d better draft a reply to Professor Dumbledore.’ Sitting down at the desk she took a sheet of parchment and began to write. She wrote the date, then gasped and dropped her quill. ‘Ooh! Oh, no!’ Before Harry could wriggle out of the enfolding embrace of the chair, Hermione had stood and was staring at him, aghast. ‘Harry, it’s your birthday tomorrow. I can’t believe I almost forgot! And I wanted to organise a party for you, too.’

Tonks leaned forward, one hand on Harry’s shoulder to balance herself. ‘Well, we can still do it can’t we? I could have Moody floo-call people we want to invite today if there aren’t too many. We’ll just have to find somewhere to have it, that’s all. It’d be great in here, but the location has to remain secret. How about Headquarters? That place is at least unplottable so comings and goings won’t be noticed.’

Harry blanched, but nodded. Hermione noticed and came over to him again. ‘Harry? Are you sure?’

He took a deep breath and nodded again. ‘Yes, I’m sure, Hermione,’ he said. ‘I’d really like to have a birthday party, that’s if anyone wants to come, of course,’ he added under his breath, ‘and I’ve got to get over Sirius some time. It’ll hurt, but I think it’s necessary. You would have read those books you sent me, of course. You know it’s something I have to do, and tomorrow’s as good a day as any.’

Hermione put her hand on his neck, gently rubbing, as she stood beside him for a long moment. ‘Are you really sure?’ she asked him quietly, intimately. ‘If it’s too much we can have our own little party here, just the three of us.’

‘Yes, I’m really sure.’ Harry leaned into her, his shoulder resting against her hip. ‘Thanks, ‘Mione.’

‘I’d better write a note for Dumbledore, too,’ said Tonks.

‘Who did you want to invite, Harry?’

* * *

30 July, 1996

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Thank you for your suggestions for my courses this year. Please pass my thanks to Professor McGonagall as well. The suggested course load, while daunting, appears very interesting and I would like to undertake the course of study suggested. May I please ask you to so advise Prof. McGonagall?

Regarding the D.A., I have discussed this with Hermione and am prepared to run it this year, with Hermione’s assistance of course. Speaking of Hermione, may I respectfully point out that surely she deserves some acknowledgement for her role in the D.A? After all, she did the hard work of course planning while I simply delivered the lessons.

Tonks and Hermione have decided that they wish to throw a birthday party for me. We have agreed that this cannot be done here, but perhaps it might be possible to use Headquarters for the purpose? I would imagine that it would be necessary to set up portkeys to transport a small number of guests to preserve secrecy, which means we would require your participation as well as permission. Please let us know what you decide.

I am fit and well and learning lots, although I have not yet been able to sense magic and Occlumency still eludes me.

Yours sincerely,

Harry Potter

* * *

30 July, 1996

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Thank you ever so much for suggesting a course mix for me this year. I am aware that 8 NEWT courses is beyond the normal maximum, but I feel I can handle the load. Would you please do me the favour of advising Professor McGonagall that I will be electing the subjects you outlined?

Harry is well and is looking very fit, the physical training regime that Tonks has him doing has resulted in impressive changes. Last night was the first time all summer, to my knowledge, that Voldemort visited Harry in his dreams. His scar leaked blood at the last, about sunrise this morning. I cannot help but wonder if the Occlumency sessions with Professor Snape are doing more harm than good, since I feel it is possibly a direct consequence of Prof. Snape’s taunting and attacks that Harry was rendered vulnerable to attack last night. I appreciate the reason for this, but is there not another approach? Harry said last night before collapsing into exhausted sleep that he understands why Prof. Snape is doing what he is, and the way he said it says that he forgives him, but the dreams, both real and sendings from Voldemort... I feel that whatever Harry’s surface thoughts and feelings, the true state of affairs is that deep inside he bitterly resents Prof. Snape’s methods.

Harry seems to be adjusting to the loss of Sirius, I am happy to say. He does not appear to be internalising his grief and anger, which I am very grateful for. He wishes to visit Headquarters in an attempt to go to the next stage of dealing with Sirius’ loss. I agree this would be a very good idea if it can be arranged.

Tonks and I would very much like to throw a birthday party for Harry this year. I apologise for the late notice; I can only say that I was so looking forward to seeing him again that I completely forgot his birthday until today! To the best of my knowledge Harry has never had his birthday celebrated in the usual manner. Given that this year is a significant year according to some old traditions and usages, I feel it would be appropriate to make a special effort and help Harry celebrate.

We have discussed the subject of the birthday party with Harry and he has agreed that a small party would be very nice. Tonks and I, however, have different plans. Harry has given us a list of eight invitees (the two of us, yourself, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid if he is available, Remus Lupin, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom although he regrets that he is unable to invite Ron and Ginny Weasley due to their current stay in Romania and the shortness of time), but Tonks and I feel that it would be rather nice if as much as possible of the current membership of the D.A. and the outgoing Gryffindor Quidditch team could be invited to help him celebrate.

I realise that we are asking rather a lot of you, particularly since due to the security measures surrounding Headquarters it would most likely be necessary to use portkeys to transport the guests if the party is to be held there. But will you please consider our request? As an additional advantage it would give Harry support during the initial stages of dealing with the atmosphere of Headquarters and the memories it has for him. I am not at all sure that Harry will want to stay overnight, by the way, even though it may make sense to have us stay there until we are due at my home. Since Tonks came and provided the means for him to do magic in the summer, he has been accumulating some very good memories here in the attic and has evolved a good relationship with Tonks. It helps that he has not had to deal with his relatives at all... I wonder, do they even know whether he is alive? We have had no communication with them, and the entrance stairway from the house below has remained steadfastly locked throughout the summer to date as far as I am aware.

I very much look forward to hearing your reply. Please give serious consideration to our request.

Yours sincerely,

Hermione Granger

* * *

Dumbledore,

I concur with Hermione (love her dearly but is she incapable of conciseness?). Please advise whether this is possible ASAP. Do not want Harry to build himself up to something that might not happen. By the way, if you do choose to invite the D.A. please tell them Harry says he doesn’t want any birthday gifts except for their presence.

FYI, Harry & Hermione started a formal relationship late yesterday. Harry made a Pledge Ring for her, did the ceremony. It’s certain he’s a Maker. Don’t think Hermione realises what she saw him do. Recommend a class in wizarding tradition for Hogwarts 1st or 2nd years ASAP, perhaps converse to Muggle Studies?

Tonks.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore smiled warmly as he put down the last of the three letters that Fawkes had brought him. He had already decided that he would do as Hermione asked, he had wanted for so long to do something nice for Harry that he could hardly resist. Of course, it would be useful for other purposes to see Harry and talk to him; letter writing and even floo calls were no substitute for a face-to-face meeting. The secrecy of the Grimmauld Place residence meant that he could not invite the D.A., but he thought Harry would appreciate Hermione’s idea of inviting the Quidditch team, particularly as Harry’s ban could possibly be lifted by tomorrow afternoon.

It would be a convenient excuse to bring back the Weasleys, too, Dumbledore realised. With Voldemort’s successful penetration of Harry’s Occlumency last night, it was time to marshal Harry’s support network. He counted himself incredibly lucky that the blood protection had recharged itself with such alacrity, since Harry could now be permitted to have contact with others outside protection. It had been taking longer and longer for the protection to recharge each summer as Harry more and more saw Hogwarts as his home, but the supportive company this year appeared to have done the trick.

If only he had seen that ahead of time, rather than in retrospect.

With a regretful sigh, Dumbledore stepped over to the fireplace. He tossed in some floo powder and said, ‘Alastor Moody!’ The image of Moody’s head appeared in the green flames.

‘What is it, Dumbledore?’

‘A birthday party for Harry will be held at Grimmauld Place late tomorrow afternoon. He, Hermione and Nymphadora will be travelling there immediately after lunch tomorrow. I anticipate up to fifteen attendees, although there might be as few as eight.

‘The Weasleys will be recalled from Romania today, and I expect them to arrive at Grimmauld Place tomorrow morning. I am hoping to persuade Harry to stay at Grimmauld Place for the time between tomorrow and the sixth, when the three of them are due at the Grangers’ residence.

‘I need to meet with Harry this afternoon. Since it is dangerous for me to go there – unlike Harry, I am not immune to scrying spells – I will reserve a private room at the Leaky Cauldron for two o’clock. Please tell him I wish to meet with him for a discussion regarding Wormtail. Hermione and Nymphadora may wish to come along and do some shopping. Please tell Harry that now that his blood protection has been renewed, he is free to accompany the girls if he wishes once we have met. I anticipate the meeting will not require more than half an hour or so.’

Moody nodded. ‘Anything else?’

‘No, thank you, Alastor. I will keep you informed regarding the likelihood of Harry’s stay at Grimmauld Place.’

‘No need, I’ll be there in person. See you later.’

* * *

Harry picked himself up from the floor of the Leaky Cauldron and brushed himself off. He stopped himself from doing a cleaning charm just in time, and he smiled gratefully at Moody who did the charm for him. He tugged on the brim of his pointed hat, pulling it low over his forehead.

With a rush and a thud, Hermione appeared in the fireplace, her hair positively frizzy. She managed to avoid falling over and Harry saw her reach for her wand before aborting the movement with a look of disgust on her face. Moody smiled scarily and once again cast the cleaning charm, earning himself a brilliant smile in thanks.

There was a small crowd in the Leaky Cauldron. Conversation buzzed and the tink and chink of glassware, crockery and cutlery filled the air as a few late diners finished their luncheon. The fireplace rushed and thudded again, and Tonks made a squeak of surprise as she hit the floor face-first. She picked herself up, cleaned herself with a charm, and quickly made sure her hair was still the desired shade of azure.

‘Come on,’ muttered Moody as he led the way to a nearby doorway that opened onto a short passage. Three doors opened off the passage, one of which was ajar. Two overstuffed chairs and a mantelpiece could be seen through the gap in the door and Moody let the way into the room without hesitation. Harry followed him, stretching his senses looking for any surprises. Tonks brought up the rear and closed the door behind herself.

Inside, the room was about the size of the Dursleys’ lounge room. It had six large wing-back armchairs grouped in a semicircle. Dark wooden panelling lined the walls to chest height, with white plaster above that. A window looked out into the courtyard at the rear of the Leaky Cauldron, although the gateway into Diagon Alley was not visible from this point. The sky outside was clear and blue, Harry saw as he looked to the top of the window. It made him ache to be outside, enjoying the summer sun. He looked down at his pale arms for a moment then thought about what being outside would have involved in other respects – having to interact with the Dursleys, likely not being permitted to do magic, having to do chores – and decided that overall he was much better off as things had gone. The thought made him smile a little. He noticed Hermione noticing him smile, which brought a smile to her face which in turn made him smile more broadly.

There was nobody else in the room. Tonks and Moody took up guarding positions, Tonks by the door and Moody near the window.

The door suddenly opened and Dumbledore walked in, smiling genially, greeting Tonks and Moody with nods before moving over to Harry and Hermione.

‘Harry, my dear boy, you are looking well,’ he said happily. ‘You are feeling well, I trust?’

‘Yes, thank you, Professor.’

‘And Miss Granger, you look happy. I’m glad to see that.’

‘Thank you, Professor,’ said Hermione. Harry saw Dumbledore’s gaze go to Hermione’s right hand.

‘May I see your right hand please, Miss Granger?’ he asked, his eyes twinkling madly. She raised her hand for him and he took it, examining the ring she wore on her third finger closely. If anything Dumbledore’s smile increased in size as he released Hermione’s hand. ‘Excellently done, Harry,’ he said before moving towards the chairs.

‘I approve of the idea of holding a birthday party for Harry, of course. I have forwarded invitations as requested. Would tomorrow just after lunch be a suitable time to portkey over to Grimmauld Place? I specified four o’clock on the invitations, and that will give you time to deal with any issues that arise once you get there. I know that you will not find it easy, Harry, but I applaud your determination to work through your grief.’

A shared glance passed between Harry and Hermione and Hermione answered, ‘Thank you, Professor, that would be perfect.’

‘Now, perhaps if we were to sit down...?’

Tonks and Moody remained standing in their guard positions but Harry and Hermione sat down in adjacent chairs while Dumbledore sat opposite them. On an occasional table he put a small object which he then enlarged. Harry recognised it as a small pensieve.

‘This is a copy pensieve,’ said Dumbledore. ‘It is used to take testimony, amongst other uses. Unlike normal pensieves, memories deposited herein are not removed from your head; instead, they are copied. Copied memories usually last no more than a month, even with the best-crafted pensieves. This one will keep memories for about three weeks.’ He looked up from the pensieve and fixed Harry’s gaze with his own. ‘The Ministry has been forced in the last few weeks to recant on its previous position regarding the return of Voldemort. The effect this has had on public opinion and the resulting lack of confidence in the Ministry has in turn has loosened its grip upon the Wizengamot for the first time in some time, allowing us to act to clear Sirius’ name. The plan to do this is to use this pensieve and others like it to provide proof of Wormtail’s continued survival and pensieved memories of his confession. A positive result would in turn further loosen the Ministry’s grip, perhaps allowing the Wizengamot, and Hogwarts, to function free of interference for the first time in decades.’ Dumbledore’s eyes blazed and Harry had a clear sense of the Headmaster’s remembered frustration and anger. Automatically he sought his centre and the feeling faded, although Dumbledore still had the look of righteous anger banked within his eyes.

Harry put aside any indignation he might have felt if Dumbledore’s influence had been deliberate and considered the Headmaster’s statement. ‘You wish me to provide relevant memories, of course, and the topic is sensitive because those memories will be viewed by the entire Wizengamot,’ said Harry evenly. He felt free, empowered, the calmness of his centre allowing him to see things that would normally be obscured. It was an odd sensation, but not one he wanted to lose. ‘You made sure to point out the temporary nature of the copy to maximise the likelihood that I would agree, as I may have refused were the copy of my memories to be permanent.’

Dumbledore nodded and clapped briefly, a smile complementing once again twinkling eyes. ‘Well done, Harry. Yes. You are a private person, and thoughts are very private things. I did not think you would agree if you thought the copy was permanent.’

‘I would agree to anything to have Sirius’ name cleared!’ said Harry urgently with a thump of his closed fist on the chair’s arm. He forced himself calm again, and smiled. ‘I agree to your proposition, Professor Dumbledore. What do I need to do?’

‘This is similar to a regular pensieve, Harry; it is the properties of the pensieve itself that makes it a copy pensieve rather than a regular pensieve. Think of the memory, and touch your wand to your temple and draw out the thought. Touch the thread of the thought to the surface of the pensieve’s bowl and then replace the thought in your head by touching your wand to your temple once more.’

Harry nodded confidently and sat forward so that the pensieve was within easy reach. The encounter with Wormtail in the Shrieking Shack came first to his mind, vividly, and as he thought of it he touched his wand to his temple. There was an odd slithering sensation as the memory was drawn from his head and could think of it no more... it was gone. Dangling from the tip of his wand was a silvery thread which he dangled over the pensieve. As he touched the tail of the thought to the liquid the thread suddenly doubled, and the copy fell limply into the bowl of the pensieve. Touching his wand once more to his temple Harry felt the memory return to him.

Smiling grimly to himself, Harry went on to the next memory.

6. Facing Sirius

The Time of Change

by Olafr (olafr@iinet.inet.au)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: R (language)

Last updated: 2 April 2004. Second draft – not yet beta’d, minor revisions only.

Author’s Notes: Due to plot revisions made in post-beta versions of Chapters 1-3, Harry and Hermione are not boyfriend and girlfriend at this point. Corresponding revisions have also been made to chapters 4 and 5.

At long, long last, here it is. This is the first half of what was originally intended to be Chapter 6. I’ve been having problems writing this (no duh, it’s taken so long to get it out) and it finally grew so large I decided to split it, meaning that Chapter 7 is now half-finished with only the actual birthday scene to go.

6. Facing Sirius

With a sigh, Harry leaned back from the table and lowered his wand. He had spent the last forty minutes trawling his memories of everything to do with Peter Pettigrew, also known as Wormtail. Now the copy-pensieve that sat on the table between himself and Dumbledore had a thin layer of silvery thoughts in the bottom of its bowl, looking almost like jellified threads liquid pearl as they sat, not quite quiescent. He pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb, rubbing briefly.

The girls were not yet back from their shopping. They had left after Harry had deposited his second memory, giggling something about ‘essential supplies’. Unsaid was the fact that for the moment, Harry could not really show his face in Diagon Alley.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a gust, Harry opened his eyes again and looked upwards. The white plaster ceiling of the private room they currently occupied in the Leaky Cauldron was unadorned except for some massive, dark wooden beams. Looking down again, he saw that Dumbledore was sitting up in his chair, an expression of polite attention on his face. Smiling hopefully, Harry said, ‘All done, Professor.’

It was as if he had pressed Dumbledore’s ‘on’ switch. ‘Excellent, Harry!’ he said, leaning forward. For a long moment, Dumbledore stirred the memories with his wand, his eyes half-closed in concentration. ‘Yes, truly excellent, this will do perfectly. Thank you very much.’

Harry blushed. ‘You’re welcome, Professor.’

Dumbledore smiled benevolently and stood easily. Harry was encouraged to see no sign of frailty in this movements. ‘Ah, I almost forgot. Here is your key.’ He placed it in Harry’s hand. ‘I imagine you’ll have need of it once Nymphadora teaches you a few disguise charms, eh, Harry?’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Thank you, Harry, for trusting me to keep it safe for you.’ He reached down and scooped up the pensieve. A brief charm, and a clear lid covered the top of the pensieve’s bowl. Dumbledore slipped it into his robes. ‘Well, I must be away. I most certainly look forward to helping you celebrate your birthday tomorrow; thank you for your kind invitation.’ His eyes twinkled brightly over his smile.

Nodding and smiling, Harry stood also. He fingered the precious key that gave access to almost all that he owned in the world. ‘I’m looking forward to it,’ he said ambiguously. Dumbledore’s eyes only twinkled more brightly. The Headmaster then turned to Moody.

‘Will you be all right here until Nymphadora and Miss Granger return, Alastor?’ he asked.

‘We’ll be fine,’ said Moody evenly.

‘Good. Well, good bye, Harry; I’ll see you tomorrow.’ And with that, the Headmaster disappeared with only a soft, deep bluph noise to mark his passing. Harry thought it sounded like a large, soft feather pillow falling. Recalling his reading from Magical Transport, he marvelled at the Headmaster’s power and control in Apparition.

‘Wow,’ he breathed.

Moody looked at him sharply, his magical eye swivelling about as always. ‘Been doing some reading about Apparition, have we, Potter?’ he asked sternly. Harry nodded.

‘Yes, sir,’ said Harry with a slightly guilty smile. ‘I haven’t had a chance to practice, though.’

‘Don’t try it, Potter, unless I say it’s okay. Apparition is one of the few easily-trackable spells, and Boy-Who-Lived or no, the Ministry’d be on you like a ton of bricks if you tried.’

‘I know that, sir. The book describes some alternate methods, though, so once I’ve had a chance to get the basic technique correct, it should be possible to avoid detection with a little work.’

Moody stared at Harry, his expression mixed sternness and apprehension. ‘Which book?’ he asked urgently.

Harry jerked at Moody’s tone. ‘It’s one of the books Professor Dumbledore lent me, sir. Techniques of Magical Transport and Movement, Their Monitoring, and Control, or something like that. By, err, McGiven, I think.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, visualising the title page. ‘Yeah, something like that, anyway. It’s quite old, I think.’

With a sigh of relief, Moody relaxed. ‘For Merlin’s sake, Potter, don’t let it get about that you’ve seen that book. It’s on the Ministry’s controlled list.’ He frowned, the scars on his face and missing pieces of flesh resulting in a frightening expression. Harry was well-used to that by now, however, and ignored the scariness of the man’s face. After having known Moody, in one form or another, for almost two years, he had become used to translating the man’s grimaces and stares.

‘Controlled list, sir?’

‘That’s right. As you already know, that book tells how to bypass the monitoring the Ministry performs on Apparition. Amongst other things.’

Harry frowned. ‘Why would it matter if the information was widely known?’

Moody glared at Harry. His magical eye stilled and focussed on Harry, adding to the intensity of his gaze. ‘Potter, are you thick? Lots of people aren’t good enough to erect anti-Apparition wards strong enough to keep out a determined Apparant, or don’t want to use them for convenience’s sake. But if anyone could Apparate anywhere, and there was no way of finding out who Apparated in and out of Mrs Nigwhibble’s flat and stole her heirloom vases, how would we keep petty theft under control? Or track down a murderer? And you know very well just how dangerous Apparation can be if you don’t have your wits about you. That’s why it’s licensed, so we don’t have people dying from blood loss after they leave behind their legs from the knee down! For Merlin’s sake, boy, use your head! I know you have a brain. Use it!’

Stunned into silence by Moody’s tirade, Harry turned over the verbal torrent in his head. As he thought it over, he frowned. ‘But sir, what about privacy? And, um, how do we know we can trust the Ministry not to use this... um, I mean, if the Ministry is corrupted... or individuals... then... um...’ He ground to a halt under Moody’s expressionless stare.

He was astonished to see him crack into a broad grin, the blue magic eye resuming its normal randomness. ‘Quis custodiet ipsos custodes, eh, Potter? Who will guard the guardians... a very good question, boy, a very good question indeed.’ The old man then sighed, seeming to deflate a little. ‘Maybe we can discuss it over a firewhisky once you come of age, Potter. It’s not a question to discuss stone cold sober.’

Not sure how to respond, Harry floundered silently. Finally he said weakly, ‘I look forward to it, sir.’

Moody grunted. ‘Hmph. So, what else did Dumbledore lend you, Potter? No, wait, don’t answer that, it’s better if I don’t know.’ He grinned ferally. ‘Never ask a question you don’t want to know the answer to, Potter.’ His expression became glum again, and he continued, ‘Theoretically I should Obliviate the knowledge of McGiven’s book from you, but I trust Dumbledore, I trust you, and most importantly of all I’m no longer an active Auror, so I won’t. Just swear to me, boy, that you won’t misuse that knowledge, and you won’t share it with anyone.’

Harry stared at Moody, wide-eyed. ‘I-I swear!’ he stuttered in shock. Moody’s eyes narrowed.

‘Potter, Tonks told me Dumbledore gave you quite a library for the summer. It seems there’s more to it than I thought. Do me a favour. You’ve been doing well with wards and security charms. Learn about oath-taking, stealth, tracking charms, and for Merlin’s sake find a way to make Occlumency work for you, for all our sakes.’ His eyes flicked to the window and back again. He continued, ‘Here they come. I’m going to ask you and Granger to swear proper oaths – I can’t see you keeping her away from those books, it’d be like trying to keep an bee from honey, and you’re both trustworthy enough. But some of your other friends I’m not so sure about. So before we go to Headquarters tomorrow, we’ll do the swearing. I can’t let you swear the full oath – you have to be of age for that – but we’ll do what we can tomorrow. Look up the Oath of Confidentiality. Got that, Potter?’

Flabbergasted, Harry could only gasp, ‘Yes, sir.’ Moody nodded and quickly returned to his post by the window, his wand now drawn as footsteps sounded in the hallway. They stopped outside the door. Harry watched in surprised curiosity as a circle of light about the size of a galleon appeared at about hip-height on the door. It glowed puce, then lemon yellow, then flicked green-yellow-green before finishing in royal blue. It lingered for a second then disappeared, and the door opened to reveal a smiling Tonks and Hermione. Hermione carried a shopping bag.

‘All’s well?’ asked Tonks.

Moody nodded. ‘Yes. Ready to go?’

Tonks nodded, and the four trouped out of the room back to the floo. Moody did a don’t-notice-me charm then erected a timed silence wall around the fireplace, and the four of them floo’d away to Mrs. Figg’s house.

* * *

‘What’s wrong, Harry?’

Harry sat in his favourite wing-back chair, staring at the copy of Magical Transport which sat on the table in front of him. The moment they had returned home, he had dug it out and put it down on the table. He had been now been sitting, staring at it, without break for ten minutes. He blinked and looked up at Hermione. ‘I’m sorry, Hermione, I wasn’t thinking and now I’ve got you in trouble.’

With an astonished look Hermione sat in the chair next to Harry’s. With a quick motion she twisted it around so that he faced him side-on. She leaned forward. ‘What ever do you mean, Harry?’

‘It’s this book. It’s on the Ministry controlled list, and I’ve started reading it. Moody found out and he’s going to ask both of us to swear an Oath of Confidentiality to keep the contents of the book, as well as the fact that we’ve even heard of it, quiet.’ He snorted. ‘I know you haven’t read it but Moody’s assuming you won’t be able to resist.’

‘The Ministry has a controlled list? That’s censorship! What’s the book about?’

Harry nodded. ‘It is censorship. I don’t like it but I think I agree with the need. The book’s about magical transport. Apparition, portkeying, the floo system; how to monitor them, wards, detection... how to avoid monitoring.’

Hermione’s eyes glittered hungrily for a moment as she thought about the knowledge contained in the book. After a moment, though, her expression became concerned, then resigned. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I guess I see.’

‘Moody wants us to swear a formal oath tomorrow to keep it confidential. Do you remember a book on that kind of thing? He was really disappointed when I didn’t know how to swear.’

After concentrating for a moment, Hermione stepped over to a shelf and withdrew a thin volume. She placed it on top of the other book. ‘This is A History of Oaths and Oath-Taking. It’s the closest thing I can think of. There’s a whole series of books that seem to deal with culture and history.’

Harry’s face twisted into a sour expression. ‘Binns. Binns and Dumbledore.’

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, confused. ‘What about them?’ Harry jumped out of his seat and stood, limbs rigid. His eyes flashed.

‘Binns should have taught us this stuff in first year instead of blathering on about the eleventy-bloody-seven goblin rebellions of the middle ages! Bloody hell! And Dumbledore, how could he let the subject be taught that way?! Nobody can learn from Binns! Everybody goes to sleep all the time, except for you! Fuck!’ Harry kicked a nearby occasional table, sending it skittering with a crash. He leaned forward, eyes blazing and fists clenched in frustration. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’

‘Harry!’ cried Hermione. ‘Calm down! And mind your language!’ He looked at her, calming in spite of the frustrated anger that surged through his bloodstream and made his knees feel like he had to use them to jump with or else they would pop. ‘Sit down and listen,’ she urged.

With a snort, Harry made himself sit. He raised his eyebrows at Hermione in invitation to speak.

‘I agree. I agree we should have been taught this stuff in first year. But, Harry... I don’t think it’s entirely Professor Dumbledore’s fault. Or even partly, now that I think about it.’

‘Huh?’

‘You remember the OWL examination. It was three-quarters goblin revolts. In addition to any other aims, Hogwarts has to educate us to pass our OWLs, you know.’

‘Well actually I don’t, I went to sleep in that exam, but I still think—’

‘And that isn’t the only bias I’ve noticed,’ she went on in her plummiest tones. ‘House elves, goblins, werewolves, giants... everywhere we look we see the human wizards looking down upon or excluding or enslaving those who are different. History, Defence.... We learn the goblin rebellions to teach us to be wary of goblins. House-elves are so thoroughly enslaved that most have no concept of freedom and feel lost without the comforting security of their servitude! Giants are hunted down or confined to reserves, and by the way we’re taught about nasty encounters with them, too, and now this new Werewolf Control Act that was passed last year is the beginning of slavery or extermination for werewolves, just you wait. You remember that?’ Harry stared at Hermione in admiration as the words tumbled out of her, washing across him like the tide. She stood and began to pace, not slowing her delivery, her diction becoming flatter as her passion increased. ‘And what about the Veela? Or other magical creatures, and half-breeds? If they can interbreed with humans, are they not human too? Perhaps not! It depends on who you ask!’ She stopped, took a deep breath, and continued in a soft, intense voice, ‘History is written by the victors. The history we learn is all about ancient grievances, and teaches us xenophobia.’

‘Xenophobia?’

‘Fear of that which is foreign. Non-humans. Part-humans. Muggles. Dark magic. Blood magic.’ She paused a long, long moment, her eyes narrowed. ‘Slytherins.’

As Harry listened to Hermione’s increasingly-passionate rant, it occurred to him that perhaps she had a point. A good one. His frustrated anger at Binns and his own lack of knowledge about his new world, his new home, faded as Hermione’s points sank into his thoughts. His gaze fell upon the book that Hermione had been found for him.

‘Dumbledore selected these books for us,’ he said. ‘He must have had a reason for each one.’ He caught Hermione’s eyes. ‘There is at least one book here that could result in our Obliviation if the wrong people were to find out we had seen it,’ he said as he laid his hand on the cover of Magical Transport. ‘How many others are there?’ He stopped to swallow. ‘Each book is here because he feels we need to know what’s inside them.’ He smiled as a memory pushed itself forward. ‘In the letter he wrote me when he sent these books, he encouraged me to, um, “take full advantage” of them.

Hermione sniffed. ‘Well, obviously,’ she said. Then she blinked, slowly. ‘Obviously,’ she repeated thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps Dumbledore doesn’t have a choice, but he wants us to learn outside the prescribed boundaries.’

Snorting, Harry replied, ‘He wants to make sure his weapon is ready for use when the time comes.’

Shaking her head, Hermione chose not to answer Harry. Instead she turned to survey the collection of books. Harry turned with her. There had to be at least two hundred volumes.

‘So he wants me to get through all this before school starts,’ Harry said weakly. ‘In four weeks.’ Hermione nodded in agreement, her expression daunted.

‘Professor Dumbledore will have to take them back, if only because we won’t have anywhere to keep them,’ she said. ‘How are we going to...?’

Harry shook his head. In the background, the bathroom door closed. ‘I don’t know. I think we need to ask Professor Dumbledore’s advice. We’ll be meeting with him tomorrow, so why don’t we plan a list of questions we want to discuss? I know a few security charms; maybe Tonks can help us out there. We have to find a way to make sure that nobody listens in.’

‘Somebody call my name?’ called Tonks from the lounging area. Harry looked over and watched as she put down a book, face-down. Skipping over to the library, she stumbled briefly and ended up face down in Harry’s lap. ‘You want something, Harry-kins?’ she asked, a light blush decorating her face. Hermione cleared her throat and Tonks stood up, untangling herself from Harry.

‘We’d like to ask your help,’ said Hermione.

‘Sure,’ said Tonks. She sat in a nearby chair. ‘Whatcha want?’

‘Do you know any speed reading or learning charms?’ asked Harry. Hermione looked a little put out that he had spoken ahead of her but put on an interested expression. Tonks snorted.

‘Both charms and potions,’ she said cheerily. ‘But none that you’d want to use.’

‘Why not?’ asked Hermione, sounding a little offended that nobody had told her about them before.

‘Well, if you want to go into premature senility or, even worse, drive yourself mad with permanent, uncontrollable photographic memory, then be my guest. There have been some tragic losses to the Wizarding world over the years because people got impatient.’

Hermione’s face fell but she somehow looked relieved, while Harry looked disappointed. Then Hermione leaned forward and asked, ‘What about indexing and categorisation? There must be a way of sorting the information that there is here so that we can quickly identify which books we need to study to solve a problem?’

Tonks shook her head, while Harry got an ah-hah! expression on his face. ‘Hermione, most books have an anti-copying charm which prevents magic from being used on the contents. You can enchant magic on the paper but not on the words or the meaning.’ At Hermione’s surprised stare, he added defensively, ‘There’s a book here on parchment charms that I read, um, I think it was three weeks ago now. It had some interesting stuff on books and so on in it.’

After a pause, Hermione said, ‘So I guess all we can do is study.’

‘And hope Dumbledore lets us keep these books during the school year.’ He looked over the books once more. ‘Boy, I’m sure glad that sixth year is supposed to be a bit easier after OWLs. I wonder if we need to read every book?’

* * *

The jolting of his bed woke Harry. Another, more vigorous roll of the bed somehow felt like Tonks to his sleep-addled mind. He was deliciously warm and comfortable, his nose just slightly cool from the night air. He smiled to himself, wondering a little at Tonks’ preference for air that was almost cold while she slept, although the coolness encouraged one to snuggle beneath the warm comfort of the bedcovers at night.

‘Wakey, wakey!’ carolled Tonks as was her habit. Harry’s eyes snapped open to see Hermione sitting on the side of the bed, smiling down at him. Tonks wouldn’t finish that little morning ditty in front of Hermione, would she? He steeled himself, waiting, but when nothing followed he turned his head to see Tonks grinning at him from where she lay on top of the covers next to him, on the other side from Hermione.

When still nothing was said, Harry returned her smile. ‘Good morning,’ he said.

‘Happy Birthday, Harry!’ said Hermione.

‘Harry Birthday, Happy!’ said Tonks with a snicker.

Harry smiled weakly. ‘Thank you,’ he said with a blush.

Tonks reached under the feather duvet and hooked Harry’s armpit with her hand. ‘Come on, lover boy, come and open your presents.’ She got up on her knees and heaved, pulling Harry out of his warm bed. As usual he slept in only his boxers, and he scrambled to make sure they didn’t get left behind in Tonks’ enthusiasm. But she let him go almost immediately. ‘Come on, Hermione,’ she said. ‘Don’t keep us waiting, Harry,’ she added in a teasing voice.

After adjusting the temperature to the normal daytime level and dressing in some jeans and a tee-shirt that had been charmed to fit, Harry joined the others in the lounge area in front of the fireplace. Hermione and Tonks sat at opposite ends of the long couch, and Tonks patted the empty leather between the two of them. Harry sat.

‘Here, me first,’ said Tonks. She took a large, soft-looking present from behind her back and pressed it into Harry’s hands.

‘You shouldn’t have, Nymph,’ he said softly but with real gratitude in his voice.

Tonsk frowned. ‘I wanted to, Harry.’ Her face cleared, and she added happily, ‘Go on, open it!’

With a smile, Harry tore the wrapping paper off what proved to be a small stack of clothes: A pair of dark, charcoal grey slacks and two long-sleeved collarless shirts of a cotton-linen blend, one indigo and one an undyed, natural flax colour. He drew in his breath as he held up the indigo shirt. ‘Wow, Nymph, thanks ever so much!’

Tonks leaned forward and pulled him into a hug. She kissed him on the cheek and Harry blushed and smiled. ‘You’re welcome, Harry,’ she said sincerely as she released him.

‘Now me,’ said Hermione brightly. With a tap of her wand she removed the disillusioning curse on a large package which sat on the floor by her feet. Reaching down, she passed it to Harry whose eyes grew wide.

‘Hermione..!’ he protested.

‘Harry...’ she replied, warningly. Her expression said, Shut up and just accept my gift to you, don’t argue! Harry heard both messages loud and clear.

‘Thank you, Hermione,’ he said weakly, somewhat overwhelmed. He took the surprisingly heavy box from Hermione and began unwrapping it. Inside, to his total surprise, were a pair of shoes in black leather with leather soles, a double-stitched belt also of black leather, and a large, thick book. He lifted the book and read the title page. Wizarding Tradition, it said. The author was one Charles Larousse. On the fly-leaf opposite, Hermione had inscribed a dedication: To Harry, my best and truest friend. I hope this helps open the door. Love, Hermione. 31/7/96.

Eyes swimming, Harry looked up and gave Hermione a heart-felt smile. ‘Thank you very much, Hermione,’ he said as he hugged her. Hermione’s hands pressed hard into his shoulder blades as she returned the embrace. ‘You shouldn’t have, but thank you.’

‘It’s my pleasure, Harry,’ she said gently.

After a long moment during which Harry sat back and smiled at the other two, Tonks said, ‘So, go on then!’

Harry turned to her in surprise. ‘Go and what?’

‘Model your clothes! Go on!’

‘Yes, Harry, I’d like to see. I hope they fit properly!’ added Hermione with a smile.

‘You’ll need these, too,’ said Tonks as she tossed a small, plainly-wrapped package to Harry. ‘Go on!’

Harry retreated to his bed area and quickly changed. Inside the extra package were two pairs of black woollen socks, finely knit. Choosing the indigo shirt, he quickly muttered an ironing spell and donned the clothes.

They felt marvellous. The trousers were lined; at first this felt odd to him but he quickly became used to it. The socks felt light on his feet, and the shoes fit perfectly after a brief moment of odd snuggling which he put down to a fit adjustment charm pre-spelled onto the shoes. The shirt fit closely but with enough room for movement, and it felt stiff but soft against his skin. Snapping on the belt, he walked back to the lounge area to be greeted by Tonks’ wolf-whistle and Hermione’s wide-eyed amazement.

‘Wow,’ said Hermione. ‘You look fantastic, Harry.’

‘New glasses and a haircut would finish the look,’ said Tonks, grinning. She gestured in a ‘come here’ way to Harry. ‘Come on, lover boy, come and turn around for us.’

Stiff with embarrassment, Harry walked in front of Tonks and Hermione and turned around for them. As he faced them again, he noticed their frankly appraising gazes and could not help but blush. Tonks noticed.

‘What are you blushing for, lover boy?’ asked Tonks challengingly. ‘After I’ve bathed you, I don’t see why you should be embarrassed just standing in front of us?’

Harry’s blushed deepened but he gathered his resolve as he often had to when bantering with Tonks. ‘I’ve never stood and been looked over like a piece of meat before, either,’ he said with a smile.

‘Get used to it, Harry,’ shot back Tonks. ‘You’re growing up, and you look good enough to eat. Doesn’t he, Hermione?’ She grinned as a blush spread across Hermione’s cheekbones.

‘Can I change back now?’ asked Harry plaintively.

‘As long as you promise to wear those clothes to Grimmauld Place.’

With a nod, Harry hurried back to his bed and changed back into his everyday clothes.

‘Time for exercises!’ called out Tonks.

* * *

Moody arrived at exactly one o’clock, sailing through the wards on his old broom and landing lightly near the edge of the exercise area. Unlike last time, he stepped off his broom.

Harry nudged Tonks as he passed through the wards, and she looked up at him as he stepped towards the kitchen table where the three of them were finishing their lunch. ‘Wotcher, Moody,’ she said. ‘Like a cuppa? Hermione put the kettle on just a minute ago.’

The retired Auror shook his head. ‘No thanks. We’ll do the oath-taking, then we have to go. We’re expected in half an hour.’ He turned his head to take in Harry and Hermione. ‘Are you ready?’

Both teenagers nodded solemnly and moved to stand in front of Moody, facing each other, while Tonks moved to stand opposite Moody so the four of them stood on the points of a cross. Moody balanced his weight on his good leg, propping himself with his peg leg at a jaunty angle and stood with his arms crossed. Tonks smiled calmly but remained silent.

Harry cleared his throat. He took his wand and raised it in salute before himself. ‘In the matter of the existence of the books provided by Professor Dumbledore, their titles, and contents, I swear that the matter will remain in confidence between the four of us, Professor Dumbledore, and those whom he might nominate,’ he said with the manner of one reciting an unfamiliar formula. ‘Confidare,’ he added with a small twist of his wand. The air shimmered subtly for a moment. Hermione repeated his words and movements.

The brief ceremony complete, Moody nodded with a grunt of satisfaction. ‘Good,’ he said as his magical eye resumed its restless wandering. He nodded to Tonks and moved to sit in the chair at the head of the kitchen table.

‘We’d better get ready to go,’ said Tonks with a glance at Moody. ‘Harry, did you decide whether to stay overnight or not?’

Harry felt cold uncertainty squeeze his heart, and he shrank from Tonks just a little. Hermione stepped over quickly and hugged him, while Tonks took his other side. ‘It’s okay, Harry,’ said Tonks. ‘We’ll come back here for the night, okay?’ The warmth of the sudden embrace and Tonks’ reassuring tone of voice pushed aside the momentary silence of his heart, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a small voice, ‘I don’t mean to be a bother.’ At Hermione’s concerned expression he shook himself, and stood straight, hugging Hermione a little. ‘It’s okay, I’m okay now,’ he said more positively. ‘I do want to go to Siriu— I mean, Grimmauld Place, but... I just can’t face the thought of... not yet,’ he finished weakly.

‘It’s okay, Harry,’ said Hermione warmly. ‘Remember the books I sent you. You have to take little steps, keep going forward a little at a time. Just remember that you’ve got Tonks and I to support you.’

Harry smiled weakly. ‘Thanks, Hermione. I just wish Ron was here, too. I know we’ve had our differences, but he’s my friend too, and... I miss him,’ he finished quietly. More cheerfully, he added, ‘I hope he’s been having a good time in Romania.’

‘I miss him too, Harry,’ said Hermione a little wistfully. ‘He’s my friend as well, even if he’s annoying.’

Silence stretched for a long moment, but it was a warm silence. Harry felt it and took the warmth into himself. Finally Tonks stepped back from the group embrace. She tripped over the corner of a mat and, with an expression of resigned surprise, fell to the ground with a thud. ‘Ow,’ she muttered.

Harry snickered and stepped over towards Tonks to help her feet. Cheeks blazing, Tonks kippuped to her feet before he could reach her. Looking behind himself, Harry saw Hermione smiling at the scene and he felt very good, his withdrawal of before now gone.

With all three residents of the attic at 4 Privet Drive washed, groomed, and changed, Moody got up and held out a length of rope. Remembering a spell from his reading of Magical Transport, Harry waved his wand over the rope and muttered a Portkey testing spell under his breath. To his eyes, the rope briefly glowed intensely in a kind of fluorescent baby blue and information placed itself into his head about the destination and activation mode of the portkey.

Moody grinned toothily. ‘Learning some caution at last, Potter,’ he observed. ‘Good to see, good to see.’ Harry grinned mirthlessly back at Moody then waited while the other two also took hold of the rope. Then, after a brief incantation following which Harry felt the anti-portkey ward come down, Moody touched his wand to the rope and the four of them disappeared from the attic at 4 Privet Drive.

Harry landed neatly from a portkey for the first time in his memory, only to almost fall forward as Tonks fell hard against his back. Hermione gripped his forearm firmly to support herself but managed not to overbalance.

‘Harry! Hermione!’

At the first sound, Harry whirled, whipping out his wand to face the unexpected voice. Standing there was... ‘Ron!’

‘Ow,’ muttered Tonks from the floor where Harry’s rapid turn had flung her.

‘Hey, mate,’ said Ron with a nervous grin, both hands half-raised, his gaze fixed on Harry’s wand.

‘I thought you were in Romania with Ginny!’ Harry accused. He glanced down at Tonks who waved him off and pushed herself to her feet.

Ron glanced at Hermione who was looking at him quizzically. He frowned, feeling somewhat put upon. ‘Dumbledore called us back yesterday,’ he said tentatively. ‘We just got back this morning.’ He felt relieved if still somewhat aggrieved when Harry’s expression cleared and Hermione started smiling. ‘What’s wrong?’ he challenged. ‘Has something happened?’

Hermione shook her head. ‘No, not at all. We were just surprised to see you, that’s all. We thought you were with Charlie for the whole summer.’

Harry added with an apologetic smile, ‘It’s great to see you, Ron. Have fun over there?’

The slamming of a door sounded from the stairwell leading down, followed by the rapid thud of footsteps. ‘Ron! Are they here yet?’ called Ginny’s voice from the open doorway that led down the stairs to the kitchen.

With a burst of noise she arrived in the hall and spotted the new arrivals. Without slowing, she barrelled into Harry, grabbing him in a hug. ‘Harry!’

‘Oof,’ grunted Harry as he windmilled his arms, trying not to fall down. Moody gave him a firm shove in the back which restored his balance. ‘Hello, Ginny,’ he said, laying his hands on her upper arms.

‘Come on, you lot, clear the area,’ Moody said as he continued to shove, pushing Harry and Ginny down the hallway. Ginny loosened her grip and stepped away from Harry. ‘Keep the landing zone clear.’

At those words, Harry and Hermione shared a glance. Harry remembered the portkey landing areas he had seen at the World Cup, which had been roped off. With a new appreciation of some of the issues associated with portkey travel, Harry stepped forward away from Moody’s hand and Hermione followed, Ron’s sleeve firmly grasped in her fist. Ginny followed.

Hermione asked in a confused voice, ‘Why hasn’t Mrs Black...?’ Harry looked up at the place where the painting normally resided but now there was only clear wall. Shocked, he continued to look around. Also gone were the gruesome row of shrivelled house-elf heads. ‘What happened to--?’

Moody stopped herding them along the hallway just outside the dining room. ‘Should be safe enough here,’ he muttered.

‘Mum wants you to come downstairs to the kitchen,’ said Ginny.

‘Yeah, come on downstairs and we’ll play a game of chess,’ said Ron. ‘There’s nothing to do until your party later anyway.’

Harry stiffened and he looked away. Tonks noticed immediately and stepped forward, while Hermione moved over next to Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘You can do it,’ she muttered to him encouragingly. Harry nodded but didn’t look up.

‘Ron, Ginny... I... I’ve got something I have to do first,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll see you after that, though.’ He looked up to see Ron looking almost as though he had been slapped. Ginny looked surprised. He closed his eyes against the lump in his throat that formed at the betrayal in Ron’s face and turned to run up the stairs. Hermione gave Ron a scathing look, met Tonks’ eyes meaningfully, and followed Harry up the stairs. Tonks moved unobtrusively to block the stairs and Ron bumped against her as he tried to follow.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ asked Ron in frustration when he found that Tonks would not let him past.

Tonks looked up into Ron’s eyes, making sure he had his full attention. ‘Harry’s gone to make his peace with Sirius,’ she said solemnly. When she saw that Ron did not understand, she added, ‘To say goodbye to his surrogate father.’

‘Oh!’ exclaimed Ginny. Tonks looked her way and saw tears starting to run from her wide eyes. Her expression was horrified, but it quickly moved to concern. ‘Poor Harry,’ she said sympathetically. Tonks nodded and turned back to Ron. To her surprise, Ron’s indignation had only intensified.

‘Let me up there! Harry needs his friends at a time like this!’ he said.

She looked at him in surprise, then nodded. She stepped away from the bottom of the staircase looking as though she wanted to say something, but she kept quiet as Ron thundered up the stairs. Closing her eyes, Tonks let out a deep sigh.

‘What is it?’ asked Ginny. Tonks jerked; she had assumed that Ginny had followed Ron upstairs. She opened her eyes to see Ginny looking at her in concern.

‘Huh?’ she asked intelligently.

‘What didn’t you say?’ pressed Ginny.

Tonks prevaricated for a moment then gave in. ‘Hermione’s been preparing Harry for this all summer,’ she said seriously. ‘She sent him books on psychology and they wrote each other every day. Ron hasn’t been part of that, and I worry that he’ll upset Harry rather than helping. He’s very fragile even though he seems happy and well-adjusted. Coming here is a big step and if Ron’s watching then he might hide his feelings rather than letting them out.’

Ginny just stared at Tonks then ran up the stairs after Ron.

* * *

Harry and Hermione stood outside the door to Sirius’ bedroom. ‘Are you ready?’ asked Hermione, her hand on Harry’s shoulder.

He nodded. ‘Yes.’ Determined, he stepped forward and opened the door.

Inside, the room was dark and cool. In the dimness Harry could make out Sirius’ large bed against the wall to the right. Two large windows graced the outside window, and between them was a roll-top desk. On the wall opposite the bed was a fireplace. Above the mantle hung a large picture with a gilt frame.

‘Torca ignis,’ said Harry. The gas lights mounted on the wall of the room and in the small chandelier burst into life. The room was lit gently, the soft glow of the gas lights making it look warm and appealing despite the shabbiness of the ornate Victorian wall paper, the chair’s seat upholstery and the bed hangings.

The room was not tidy, Harry now saw. A shirt and some black robes were draped from a hat stand, and trousers were draped over the foot of the bed. Papers were scattered on the desk top, and one drawer stood proud, not fully pushed home.

Harry stepped over to the desk. A dicta-quill stood upright in them middle of the desk over a sheet of parchment. Other papers were scattered over most of the desk-top with more in the pigeon-holes at the back of the desk-top, but one sheet sat alone in a cleared part of the desktop. Reaching forward, Harry pulled it towards him. As he started to read it, he stiffened in shock. It was addressed to him.

Harry,

If you’re reading this then I am dead. I’m leaving now for the Ministry; I’ve heard that you have been lured there by Voldemort, and I’ve decided that I’m going to ignore Dumbledore and go to help. But before I go, I want to say something I wish I had been able to before.

I love you, Harry, like the son I never had. When you were born and later when I was named your godfather by James and Lily, it was as if you were my son, not James’. I love you, son of my heart.

By that love, please hear me now: Do not mourn me. Celebrate me, and hold me in your heart with love and fondness, not sadness and regret. I will see you soon enough when you, too, pass over into that which lies beyond. I know this, Harry, just as I’m sure that you were lured to the Ministry in defence of somebody that you love.

Find someone to love, live life to the full, have lots of children, and most importantly of all, enjoy your life. Grab it with both hands, make your own decisions, and live your life! Don’t allow yourself to drift, Harry. By your love for me, be positive in your life. Share your life with those you love. Love with all your heart. Believe.

I have to go now. I love you, son.

- Sirius

PS: I had better not be seeing you again for a long, long time.

The parchment slipped from his trembling hand as Harry finished reading it. It fluttered to the floor in a long, graceful arc as Harry curled up into a ball by the desk. Hermione watched in horror as a deep, painful sob was ripped from Harry’s throat. The paper finally came to a stop in the middle of the room. Torn between going to Harry and reading the letter, Hermione chose the former and stepped over to comfort Harry. Kneeling by him, she put her arms around his shoulders and hugged him.

The bedroom door opened and Ron stepped in followed by Ginny. The pair of them hurried over to where Harry and Hermione knelt on the floor. Ron stopped short, unsure of how to approach the pair, but Ginny knelt on the other side of Harry from Hermione and put a hand on each of their shoulders.

‘What’s wrong? Are you okay, Harry?’ She paused, then added, ‘Is there anything I – we – can do to help you?’

‘Just leave me alone,’ croaked Harry. ‘Please.’

‘No!’ yelled Ginny. She took both his shoulders in her hands, almost wrenching him out of Hermione’s grasp. ‘Friends don’t let friends eat themselves up from the inside. They help each other!’ She drew a breath and added, ‘Don’t push us away, Harry! Please! We love you, and it hurts when you keep us out!’

Harry stared at her for a long moment, then smiled weakly with watery eyes. With one arm he hugged Hermione to himself more strongly; with the other he grabbed Ginny and buried his head in her shoulder.

Ron smiled a genuine smile at the cute scene before him. Seeing Harry hold Ginny to him, he could almost believe that his friend had discovered feelings for his younger sister. He moved his gaze to Hermione, who smiled briefly at him before returning her attention to Harry.

Perhaps he had a change with her, after all.

Looking around, Ron noticed the letter on the floor. He stepped over and picked it up. Reading it, he gasped and read it again.

‘He really loved you,’ he said at last in a quiet voice. ‘I’m glad for you, Harry. Sad that you lost him, but glad for you too.’ He swallowed then added, ‘At least you had something normal in your life.’

Harry looked up at Ron in astonishment. His eyes searched Ron’s face, then he smiled weakly. ‘Thanks, Ron,’ he said. ‘You’re right.’

7. Happy Birthday, Harry

The Time of Change

by Olafr (olafr@iinet.net.au)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13

Last updated: 12 May 2004: Release 2: Radically changed party scene (I wasn’t happy with it).

Author’s Notes: My take on Dumbledore, for those who wonder whether there is something beneath the affable and appeasing manner in which he is dealing with Harry: Dumbledore has personally seen three major wars that affected Britain significantly: The Boer War, the World War I (aka The Great War), and World War II. He has been working in a political environment (a school) for at least half of that time. The man lives and breathes intrigue, he cannot help it, and he has seen most situations so many times before that he is not necessarily planning but remembering and reapplying. He is old enough to have fallen into habits of thought, and at that age time passes very quickly indeed. He is very, very practiced at almost everything you can imagine. Five years, while not the blink of an eye, is not a big deal.

The bottom line here is that Dumbledore is still manipulating Harry... he’s just changed techniques.

7. Happy Birthday, Harry

It was about an hour later that a knock came on the door. The four teenagers were sitting on Sirius’ bed, talking. All turned their heads to the door, which opened after a brief pause. Inside stepped Dumbledore. He paused and looked all four over carefully, especially Harry. He then smiled.

‘Harry, I’m glad to see you looking well,’ he said. ‘How are you? Are you feeling well?’ His eyes carried a heavy freight of meaning, asking Harry about his wellness at a wide range of levels.

Harry looked around the room, thinking about what the Headmaster had asked. For a long moment he looked at the picture of the younger Sirius that hung above the fireplace, then at last he nodded.

‘Yes, sir. I’m... fine.’

Dumbledore broke into a wide grin. ‘Good, good! And Nymphadora has told me that you’ve celebrated the initiation of a relationship with Miss Granger. I’m very glad to hear that; I wish you all the best and hope she brings you some much needed happiness in your life, Harry.’ Turning to Hermione, Dumbledore added, ‘And to you as well, Miss Granger, I wish you and Harry all happiness.’

Ginny took a breath that was half-sob. Ron’s reaction was immediate. ‘WHAT?!’ he yelled.

Stunned and disbelieving, Harry looked around himself at the others. Dumbledore’s smile was approving, almost beatific. Ginny and Ron both looked betrayed, while Hermione was looking at Harry with an expression he simply could not understand... surprise bordering on shock, disbelief... and was that hope?

‘Wha-what are you talking about?!’ he asked Dumbledore. ‘Hermione is my friend!’

Dumbledore looked confused. ‘Oh? I apologise, Harry. But Tonks told me you had initiated a relationship with Hermione, and I see that she wears the ring of the Ceremony of Harbat.’

Ginny gasped and grabbed Hermione’s hand while Ron’s eyes settled on Harry’s, glaring jealousy and betrayal. ‘Wow, Hermione, that’s beautiful,’ said Ginny. ‘Look at how perfect the ring is! Harry must feel really strongly for you!’

‘But, but, it was just a friendship dedication!’ protested Harry. ‘What’s wrong with you all?!’ He focused on Ron. ‘You’re all acting like I asked Hermione to marry me!’

Hermione looked around in confusion. She could not steady herself emotionally; she felt as though she was being carried along in a bubbling stew of feelings. Sadness, confusion, betrayal, and paradoxically also closeness and love swirled in her heart.

‘Harry,’ said Dumbledore gently, ‘the Ceremony of Harbat is sometimes used for precisely that. It is most often used, however, to declare a formal relationship that is often taken to be only one degree short of a declaration of intent to marry. For most wizards, the Ceremony of Harbat is difficult magic; many do not have the power or control to perform it. However, it is not simply a matter of power or skill. It requires a substantial emotional commitment as well, a clarity of feeling that is usually only found in those who wish to marry, which is why it is usually used, as I said, for exactly that purpose.’ He bowed his head in apology. ‘I apologise for the misunderstanding, Harry. It was not my intention to embarrass you or Miss Granger.’

Gathing his scattered wits, Harry eventually smiled. ‘That’s okay, Professor.’

Dumbledore smiled beatifically, and the others suddenly felt as though all was well with the world. ‘Well, then. Do you have a moment? I have some things I need to discuss with you.’ Seeing Harry look to his friends uncertainly, Dumbledore went on, ‘Harry, I’m afraid that while some of the things I have for you can be shared with your friends, some must be kept confidential. Perhaps if we were to talk next door?’

Harry nodded and stood up from the bed. ‘Back soon,’ he said.

Next door to Sirius’ bedroom was a large, richly-appointed library. Bookshelves lined the walls and stacks filled the room except for an area next to a large desk. There, the bookshelves changed to pigeonholes, and a reading nook had been set up with four wing-back chairs and a worn old Chesterfield couch, the dark brown leather worn and cracked to the colour of sand in places. This room, too, had two windows which faced the same direction as the ones in Sirius’ bedroom. However they were shuttered tightly, leaving the room in a deep gloom, and Dumbledore lit the gas lights with a wave of his hand.

‘Please take a seat, Harry,’ he said as he settled himself in a large wing. ‘Lemon drop?’ he said as he offered a small tin of the boiled lollies.

‘No thank you,’ said Harry. Nodding, Dumbledore took one for himself and sucked on it contemplatively for a moment as he slipped the tin back into his robes.

‘Well,’ said Dumbledore, ‘first, then, Voldemort. There has been no activity that we have noticed. Professor Snape has not been summoned since events at the Ministry. Have you felt anything in your scar?’

Harry shook his head, both disappointed and relieved. ‘No, except for the one time which I’ve already told you about. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a sending from Voldemort, Professor.’ He looked down. ‘Just a bad dream.’

‘Well, I’m sorry that you suffered that, Harry, but it’s good that you also have not heard from Tom Riddle since his defeat.’

Harry nodded but his expression was strained. ‘I worry what he’s getting up to,’ he said.

Dumbledore nodded agreement. ‘Quite,’ he said.. ‘Nevertheless, the Order is hunting him and his associates, so until a lead is uncovered – either through them or through your link with him – all we can do is wait.’

‘And train,’ said Harry firmly.

‘Yes, and train. I am very glad to hear reports of your progress to date. I am sure that you will continue to progress.’ Dumbledore paused, sucking contemplatively on his lemon drop. Returning his attention to Harry, he said, ‘Regarding which, Harry, allow me to explain something to you since I am not sure how you feel about it. Nymphadora, as you know, is your bodyguard. As such, she is in a position to observe the most intimate details of your life, and it is essential that you trust her fully. Furthermore, I felt that you needed someone to confide in, which was the main reason why Nymphadora was chosen rather than someone like Alastor. You should know, Harry, that Nymphadora passes on to me via Alastor reports your achievements and major events. She tells me how you are feeling and about your attitude and whether anything seems to be bothering you. However,’ said Dumbledore forcefully to quell Harry whose darkening expression and body language showed that he was about to interrupt in indignation, ‘she does not tell me anything personal, and her reports are general, not detailed. She is your Praetorian Guard, Harry. You can trust her absolutely to keep your secrets. While she is to report some things to me, it is mostly so that I know whether you need anything and so that I can track your progress. Only in case of strictest emergency would she reveal anything more, and then not necessarily to me, but only to whomever she needs to get the job done. Do you understand?’

‘What about the thing with Hermione?!’ Harry said, annoyed.

Dumbledore shook his head and smiled. ‘The ring makes that public knowledge, which is why Nymphadora passed it on. If it had not been for that, she would probably not have told me anything except details of your magical and physical accomplishments.’

Harry settled down, mollified. He smiled sheepishly. ‘Yes, Professor. I hadn’t thought about it, really. Thanks for explaining it to me.’

Dumbledore smiled benevolently, his eyes twinkling. ‘You are most welcome. You should be prepared for similar understandings, however. I suggest you ask Hermione if she minds wearing such a pure declaration of your love. She, too, will be asked about it, no matter what your original intent. Now then, what was next...?

‘I am very worried about events at Hogwarts last year. I fear that they may be the cause of considerable bad feeling between Slytherin house and the remainder of the school this year. As I told you earlier this summer, in addition to being your bodyguard, I have hired Nymphadora Tonks as coordinator of security at Hogwarts. I am very grateful that you and Miss Granger have elected to continue to run a defence association this year similar to last year’s Dumbledore’s Army. I believe I have said before how much I like that name,’ he finished with a chuckle. Then his face cleared and he continued, ‘My thought was that a cross-house association would help heal the rifts that have only deepened in the past years between the houses. Have you and Miss Granger had a chance to discuss this in any depth? Have you started thinking about lesson plans and membership?’

‘Not yet, Professor,’ said Harry. ‘Sorry.’ He took a breath and went on, ‘There’s something we need to ask you, Professor. About the books you’ve lent us....’

‘Ah, yes, Alastor told me about the oath he had you swear. Very prudent, I should have thought of it.’ His eyes twinkled at this, and Harry’s thoughts darkened.

‘With respect, sir, don’t play games with me,’ he blurted. Dumbledore’s expression drooped, and he nodded sadly.

‘I’m very sorry, Harry. Allow me to explain fully by way of apology. I gave you and Miss Granger access to those books, firstly, because I felt you would find them useful in your quest to take control of your senses; secondly, because I felt you needed to know some of the information covered by them, particularly in the area of Wizarding history, tradition and ceremony, and thirdly, to use as an inducement to encourage you and Miss Granger to continue to run the D.A. in some form. Having a cross-house activity with broad membership is that important to me, Harry. Since you have agreed, I will give you two continued access to the books for as long as you need them. I will also appoint you student defence coordinator, with powers similar to a prefect, and you will work with Miss Tonks as part of the defensive planning for the school.’

Harry stared at Dumbledore, stunned. Gradually his disbelief gave way to pleasure, and he smiled and nodded. ‘Thank you, sir. I appreciate your explanation.’

‘Excellent, Harry. Now then, Professor Snape informs me that you appear to be having difficulty with Occlumency again. While it is true that everyone needs to arrive at their own method for screening their mind, perhaps I might share with you a few things that I found useful?’ At Harry’s eager nod, he continued.

‘Well then, firstly, I found that in order to perform Occlumency it was necessary to learn to control my emotions. Consider a mask, Harry. To the world, the mask is happy, or sad, or neutral; whereas beneath the mask the wearer might have a very different expression, and the wearer’s expression can change without being noticed. Or perhaps consider a swan. Above the water, all is serene and smooth. Beneath the water, the swan’s legs paddle furiously.’

These examples crashed upon Harry’s understanding like a wave pounding the shore. He took a breath to control himself and nodded, smiling. ‘Yes, sir, I believe I do. I’ll have to think about it, though.’

‘Excellent. The other tip I wished to share with you is something I’ve asked Nymphadora to start teaching you – maintaining your awareness, moving and fighting while in a meditative state. Here, take these books,’ he said, holding out a package the size of a sugar cube, ‘and read them. They deal with Oriental philosophies that you might find useful both in establishing control and in learning the correct form of concentration. I wish that these books had been available when I learned Occlumency, as I feel they would have made it far easier for me to learn.’ Dumbledore smiled kindly, finishing, ‘But that is a story for another time.

‘Now, before we move on to the final things I have for you, was there anything more you wished to ask me, Harry?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Well, then. I hope you do not mind, but I have taken the opportunity to act promptly using the information you provided me with yesterday.’ He paused, turning his lemon drop over in his mouth with his tongue, pursing his lips to suck on it more strongly. ‘Sirius Black was pardoned earlier today, thanks in part to your evidence. The pardon includes compensation for wrongful imprisonment which will go to his estate. Furthermore, with the pardon, Sirius’ will becomes valid. It will be read tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock. Both you and Hermione are invited to the reading, which will be held at Gringotts. Nymphadora will be attending as well, since she is a member of a cadet branch of the Black family and is, of course, also named in Sirius’ will.’

Harry closed his eyes against the brief gripping feeling in his chest, then breathed deeply as the feeling quickly left him as his feelings eased. Another closure.

‘That’s good news,’ said Harry with a weak smile. ‘It’s nice to see that Sirius got justice at last.’ His smile twisted, and he added, ‘It’s only a shame that this couldn’t have been done before. I would have been happy to provide memories at any time.’ Dumbledore nodded dolefully.

‘Quite so, Harry. Alas, as I said yesterday, despite the right and wrong of things, we have not been able to bring the matter before the Wizengamot before this. You should know that although the Wizengamot is the highest judicial authority in the Wizarding world, it is a large body as such things go and like other courts of last resort it votes on which matters may be brought before it for consideration. The sad fact is, Harry, that all too many of the members of the Wizengamot are venal, and the Ministry has been able to keep certain matters from being considered despite a number of attempts.’

‘Venal?’

‘Capable of being obtained for money. Corrupt, in other words.’ Dumbledore’s expression reflected his deep sadness at this.

Harry’s eyes flashed. He stiffened for a moment, then nodded and relaxed. ‘I understand, Professor,’ he said with a weak smile. ‘Thank you for doing it.’

The twinkle returned to Dumbledore’s eyes and he appeared to relax. ‘We do what is right, Harry, but to the extent that you feel that you owe me thanks, you are most welcome. And may I thank you most humbly, for your part was far more important than mine. Without your willingness to share parts of your private self with strangers, and before that, without your willingness to risk everything to save someone in need, which in turn led to Voldemort’s public exposure, this thing could still not have been done.’

With a more genuine smile accompanied by a slight blush, Harry nodded.

‘Have you decided yet whether you will stay here for the remainder of your time before going to the Grangers’ house on the sixth?’ asked Dumbledore, changing the subject.

‘I’d... I’d prefer not to stay here, sir,’ Harry said, looking to the floor. ‘Perhaps after a few more visits, but for now....’ Harry shook his head.

‘Very well, I understand. Nymphadora informs me that things are quite comfortable in the attic at the Dursleys’. I was hoping to consolidate some security functions, but it would only be for a few days and a separate detail will be needed for the Grangers’ house, anyway.’ Harry looked relieved. Dumbledore held out a large, old-fashioned iron key. ‘Take this portkey; it will transport you, Miss Granger, and Nymphadora to the Fountain of Magical Brethren tomorrow afternoon at a quarter to four. You will be met there; the person who meets you will give you a password. The password will be “Rumplestiltskin”.’ Harry took the key and slipped it into a pocket. Dumbledore stood. ‘I must go downstairs now, Harry. I leave you to your friends. I will be in the kitchen if you need to speak with me. Oh, and Harry?’ He slipped a roll of parchment out of his sleeve and gave it to Harry. It was made up of several sheets, all rolled together and tied with a broad red ribbon. A blob of sealing wax sealed the roll. ‘Happy Birthday, Harry.’

‘Thank you, Professor Dumbledore,’ blurted Harry in surprise.

Dumbledore simply nodded gravely, a smile creasing the corners of his mouth and his eyes twinkling. The door closed behind him and Harry was alone in the room. Sounds from the room next door began leaking in, and Harry realised that a silencing charm or perhaps an imperturbment charm had been ended when Dumbledore left. Smiling at the roll of parchment, he decided to share whatever it was with his friends.

Returning to Sirius’ bedroom, Harry opened the door to see Ron and Hermione sitting fairly close together with Ginny looking from the other side of the bed with a smile on her face. Ron was speaking and leaning towards Hermione, his hands gesturing towards her as he spoke, whereas Hermione was sitting straight up, cross-legged on the bed, facing Ron.

Hermione looked to the door as soon as it opened, causing Ron to break off what he had been saying. Her expression was a little odd, and he felt a burst of wistfulness as he caught her eyes. ‘How did it go, Harry?’ asked Hermione. Harry shrugged and half-smiled.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘It was mostly about the Defence Association, as he called it.’ He turned to Ron, explaining, ‘He wants to make the D.A. a formal student association this year,’ he said. Returning to Hermione, he went on, ‘He said he really wants something to help bring the houses closer together after last year, and that he’d help out a little bit with reference works if we needed it.’ Hermione’s eyes grew wide and she smiled.

‘Oh, goody!’ For a moment Harry thought she was going to bounce on the bed and clap.

‘You are gonna do it aren’t you mate?’ put in Ron.

‘Yes,’ said Harry with a grin.

A pause settled on the group and Ginny spoke up. ‘What’s that, Harry?’ she asked, pointing to the roll of parchment in Harry’s hands.

Harry held up the roll. ‘This? Oh, it’s from Dumbledore. He said it’s for my birthday.’

Ron bounced onto his knees in excitement. ‘Well, go on Harry, aren’t you gonna open it?’

Hermione moved back from the edge of the bed, making room for Harry. She patted the spot she had vacated. Harry stepped over to the bed and sat down on its edge.

Turning this attention to the parchment roll, he broke the ribbon’s seal. The roll flipped open to reveal three sheets of parchment.

‘Hmm, let’s see,’ said Harry. ‘The top sheet is Sirius’ pardon....’

‘Wicked!’ shouted Ron. Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, and let go. When she did so, Ginny moved forward, kneeling on the bed, and hugged Harry.

‘That’s just wonderful, Harry,’ she said warmly. She let him go, revealing Harry’s blushing face. Ginny had pulled his head in between her breasts, and the feeling had been very pleasant.

‘What else is there?’ asked Ron enthusiastically.

‘Let’s see,’ said Harry as he gratefully turned his attention to the next sheet. ‘Huh, it’s a wanted poster for Wormtail! Look at this!’

Harry held up a wanted posted for Peter Pettigrew a.k.a. Wormtail. It had pictures of both his forms.

‘Wicked!’ repeated Ron. He took the paper and took a close look before passing it to Hermione. ‘What else?’

‘Um...’ said Harry as he saw that the final sheet was a letter to him from the Headmaster.

Dear Harry,

Now that your sixteenth birthday has come, you begin the final stages of your growth towards becoming an adult. In certain ancient times, sixteen was considered the age of majority. This can have implications in the Wizarding world of today.

I believe that you have not yet inquired of Gringotts as to the full extent of your inheritance from your parents. I urge you to do so at your earliest convenience. Some things may come into your full control today, and it is important that you ensure that any necessary arrangements are made.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Order of Merlin, First Class

‘It’s a letter from the Headmaster. He says I need to go see Gringotts. Something about my parents,’ he said vaguely. Harry folded the letter and stuck it in a pocket. Sirius’ pardon he rolled up again; the ribbon stuck itself together again magically when wrapped around the now-slimmer roll of parchment. ‘Might as well go tomorrow, I have to go there for the reading of Sirius’ will anyway.’

‘Sirius’ will?’ asked Ron stupidly.

‘Yes.’ He stood. ‘I’m going to go ask Tonks about disguise charms. Coming?’ he asked Hermione.

* * *

In the kitchen, much of what Harry thought of as the ‘inner circle’ of the Order was gathered around the long table. Mrs Weasley bustled about as two large pots of something ambrosial were stirred gently by magical spoons. As he came in she looked up. ‘Harry!’ she cried, and bore down on him like a ship under sail.

‘How are you, dear?’ she asked, pulling him into a smothering hug. Then, plucking him out of her cleavage, she held him at arm’s length. ‘My, how you’ve grown! Are those muggles treating you well? You’re at least looking fit and healthy for a change.’

Overwhelmed, Harry allowed himself to be manhandled by Mrs Weasley. ‘I’m very well, thank you Mrs Weasley,’ he said weakly once she allowed him to get a word in edgeways.

‘No thanks to those Dursleys,’ said Hermione darkly.

‘What ever are you talking about, Hermione?’ asked Mrs Weasley, her smile fading as she contemplated all the horrible things Harry could have been subject to. Hermione was about to answer when she caught a quelling look from Tonks.

‘It doesn’t matter, Mrs Weasley,’ said Hermione politely.

Mrs Weasley held Harry at arm’s length and looked him up and down, then said th Hermione, ‘Well, Harry’s certainly looking well enough—‘ She broke off with a gasp, he eyes wide. ‘Hermione! Is that a Harbat ring?! Who did...?’ Her gaze turned slowly back to Harry, her head turning as if being pulled by wires. Her eyes were wide.

‘No, no, it’s not that,’ put in Ginny easily. ‘Harry used it as a friendship pledge.’

‘Oh!’ said Mrs Weasley. She gathered up Hermione in a hug. ‘You’re so very lucky to have such a good friend as Harry,’ she said, almost crying.

There was an awkward silence broken only by the bubbling of the pots of the stove. Then there was a clearing of a male throat from the far end of the table, and Mrs Weasley started herding the four new arrivals back out the kitchen door. ‘Why don’t you four wait in the drawing room and greet the guests as they arrive?’ she suggested. ‘We’re just having a quick meeting here and we’ll be up to help you celebrate your birthday in proper style shortly, Harry,’ she said with a motherly smile. Then the door was closed in their faces, leaving Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny standing in relative dimness at the foot of the stairwell.

‘Well!’ huffed Hermione.

‘Come on, Harry,’ said Ginny as she took his elbow. She half-pulled him up the stairs, he following her reluctantly, with Ron pacing Hermione behind them. Half-way up, Harry stopped resisting and in a moment they stood in the drawing room. A banner floated in mid-air proclaiming “Happy 16th Birthday!”. Another, fastened to the chimney above the fireplace, said “Happy Birthday, Harry!”. Golden sparkles of light faded in and out around the banners, highlighting them genteelly. Seeing them, Harry cracked a smile.

The room was full of wing-back chairs as usual, but on a sideboard sat two large bowls of punch, one orange-red, one layered in all the colours of the rainbow. Glasses and trays of finger sandwiches sat between the bowls.

Ron stepped over and helped himself to a handful of the little sandwiches. ‘Yum!’ he said around a mouthful of asparagus, cheese, and bread.

‘Ron!’ yelled Ginny. ‘Have you got no manners?!’

‘Wha’?’ he asked indistinctly, still chewing. A few breadcrumbs sprayed out of his mouth to land on the floor below. Swallowing, he added, ‘What’s your problem, Gin?’ he asked without rancour. ‘I’m not allowed to eat?’

Ginny looked to Hermione helplessly, who just rolled her eyes. ‘At least use a plate,’ Ginny said after an awkward pause.

‘Hey, Hermione, ‘d you like some punch?’ asked Ron, unaffected.

‘They’re not alcoholic, are they?’ asked Hermione cautiously.

‘No, no, of course not,’ replied Ron indignantly.

‘They’re just party drinks, Hermione,’ said Ginny. ‘They’re hard to make so they’re only used for special occasions, that’s all. Dad made them earlier. Although,’ she added with a dark look at Ron, ‘the guest of honor is supposed to have the first drink.’

‘Your dad?’ asked Harry, puzzled. ‘I thought he’d be busy at work? Today’s a Wednesday after all.’

‘He doesn’t need to go into work until tonight,’ said Ron easily. ‘He’s doing raids at the moment, and that always means night work.’

‘Oh. Oh, I remember, when you and the twins rescued me before second year, he came back from raids when we were having breakfast.’

Ginny stared at Harry with an odd expression. Ron’s reply was lost in the thud of people arriving in the hall.

‘Wow, look at this place,’ came Oliver Wood’s voice through the open French doors. His tone was not complementary.

‘Do you think this is Harry’s place?’ came a female voice that Harry took a moment to recognise as belonging to Katie Bell, who had just graduated. She sounded doubtful.

Recovering from his surprise, Harry called out, ‘We’re in here, Oliver!’ He strode back towards the French doors.

‘Bloody hell, that’s Harry,’ said Lee Jordan as Harry rounded the doorway and practically ran into Katie and Alicia. Behind them stood Oliver, Lee, and Angelina, all previous members of the Quidditch team. Just then, the twins appeared with a double crack! as they apparated into the drawing room.

‘We’re heeeere!’ they cried in unison. ‘Let the party begin!’

‘Happy Birthday, Harry,’ said Katie as she grabbed him in a hug. She let him go after a brief moment, then Alicia likewise grabbed him in an embrace. Kissing him on the cheek, she said, ‘Thanks for inviting us, Harry. I’ve always wanted to—‘

‘Come on, come on!’ cried one of the twins, cutting off Alicia rather loudly – Fred, Harry thought. He smiled at Alicia as well as he could.

‘Thank you for coming,’ he said with sincerity, then as she let him go he backed into the drawing room to allow the others to enter.

Once again the thud of people landing abruptly on the floor came, but Harry was being dragged over to the drinks table by Fred (or was it George?). Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Neville and Luna coming into the room, followed by Tonks.

‘Come on, Harry, take a drink so we can get the party started!’ said the other twin, who was standing by the punch bowl filled with orange liquid. Harry planted his feet, visions of himself as a giant canary flashing before his eyes.

‘No!’ he yelled as he struggled against Fred’s grasp on his arm. ‘How do I know what you’ve put in that bloody stuff?!’

The room stilled and there were several gasps. Harry felt shock emanating from those around him. The Weasleys were staring at him with big eyes, and as he looked around he saw that everyone else was in shock, too, except for Hermione, who looked confused, and Dean and Seamus, who were at the back of the crowd having just arrived.

‘What? What’d I say?’

Tonks stepped forward. ‘It’s okay, Harry, I’ll explain later. For the moment just take my word for it that the drinks are tamper-proof.’ Raising her voice for the benefit of thei still-quiet audience, she added, ‘It’s not your fault you’ve never heard of Qualitas drinks. That Dumbledore! It’s his fault for having you raised as a Muggle.’

Hermione stepped over to join Harry and Tonks. Putting her head close to theirs, she asked in a low voice, ‘Tamper-proof?’

Harry was looking at the bowls uncertainly. ‘What are they? Why are they so special?’ he asked Tonks, feeling a little more comfortable with the notion of partaking of food and drink if the twins could not have spiked them with something interesting.

‘A very good question, Harry,’ came Dumbledore’s voice. Harry jerked his head around to see that the adults that had been downstairs were now filtering into the room, Dumbledore at their head. The Headmaster came over to stand by the drinks table, a red-faced and bashfully proud Arthur Weasley following him. ‘If I may have your attention please,’ he said, capturing the attention of the entire room. Conversation that had been starting up again stilled once more, and Dumbledore was the centre of attention. A multiple thud broke the silence as another group of people arrived in the hallway.

‘Thank you all for coming here today to help Harry celebrate the sixteenth anniversary of his birth. I do apologise for the short notice.

‘As many of you will already know, one’s sixteenth birthday is of particular importance in the ancient tradition. While many of the ancient ceremonies have no place in the world of today, it is common to mark the day with a celebration of special note. And so it is today. Perhaps we might begin with a quick round of Happy Birthday.’ With that, Dumbledore held his wand high like a conductor’s baton, then brought it down and then up.

On the upstroke, everyone responded in song. ‘Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Harry... Happy Birthday to you!’ Harry hadn’t heard much music in the Wizarding world, so he tensed himself for a cacophony similar to the singing of the Hogwarts song. To his utter astonishment, however, everyone sang in tune and in tempo. Hermione and Tonks grabbed his hands during the song and, when the song was finished, they planted kisses on his cheeks. Then Ginny leaned over and kissed his cheek as well, then Ron shook his hand, and for a few minutes Harry’s world dissolved into a happy blur of handshakes and brief kisses.

Harry was floating with happiness when Dumbledore spoke again. ‘It is with the help of Arthur Weasley that we are able to enjoy something rather special today. He has made for us not only the standard Qualitas drink for such an occasion, but using Muggle techniques he has come up with the layered version you can see to my right. I must say, I am quite looking forward to trying it.

‘But now, for the part of our guest of honor. Harry, would you please come forward?’ Puzzled, Harry did so. In a voice pitched only to him, Dumbledore said to Harry, ‘Harry, first fill a cup and take a drink. Then, draw your wand, and lick its tip. Think of how you feel about having everybody here to celebrate your birthday. With that feeling fixed in your mind, insert the tip of your wand deeply into the drink. The incantation is qualificare. Do you understand?’

Harry nodded, while his mind raced over some of the reading he had been doing over the past month. Qualificare meant to imbue, so the ceremony was no doubt meant to imbue something of his into the drink. His feelings, perhaps? He looked up at Dumbledore and deliberately did not attempt to shield his mind, and was rewarded with a fatherly smile and a twinkle of his eyes.

Stepping up to where Dumbledore had been standing a moment before, Harry turned to face the audience. His guests. People who had come specifically to be with him and join him for his birthday for the first time in his memory. He could not help but smile broadly.

‘Before I do this, I just want to say, this is very special to me,’ he said. ‘You see, this is the first time I’ve ever had a birthday party, and having you all here is just brilliant. Thanks very much for coming, and I hope I can share with you just how much it means to me.’ With that, Harry smiled to himself, dipped a cup into the orange-red liquid and, closing his eyes, took a large sip.

It tasted... zesty, he decided. Cool and fruity, but not tasting of any particular fruit he could identify. Magic tingled on his tongue, and the back of his mouth tasted... orange-red, he decided. How very peculiar. He swallowed, and it lit up within him in a kind of peaceful warmth that spread from his heart out through his body to his hands and feet. Added to the pure happiness of the fact that people were willing to come to his party, he now felt love and affection leaking in. Oddly, he also felt clearheaded and agile, which told him the drink was not an intoxicant.

Opening his eyes again, Harry drew his wand and licked the end as Dumbledore had said. Something about the potion – for he was certain that was what it was – was changed by its contact with him, and he now knew without doubt that the final part of the ceremony was to imbue that change into the main body of the drink. Pointing the wand straight down, he plunged half its length into the bowl even as he gathered his power. Pausing a moment to make sure he felt his love for his friends to the utmost, he tilted his head back and, closing his eyes, uttered with low-voiced power, ‘Qualificare!’

Tonks’ eyes widened in disbelief as she watched Harry enchant the drink. Standing in the front row of people next to Hermione, she felt a thrill run up her spine as she saw him put his all into the incantation.

There was a deep golden flash that spread throughout the bowl and then, for a long moment, nothing. Then, gradually, golden balls of will-o-the-wisp appeared here and there, spreading and multiplying until the bowl glowed so brightly that it almost hurt the eyes before settling down. She drew a breath at the appearance of the drink, which was now a metallic golden colour shot through with streaks of red and silver.

As the last sparkles of magic faded, she saw Harry open his eyes and pull his wand from the liquid. She saw him smile down at the transformed punch and then look up, first at Hermione, and then, in a heart-stopping moment, at her. He captured her eyes with his blazing green eyes, smiling a thank-you before moving on.

‘Most excellently done, Harry!’ cried Dumbledore, breaking the silence that had fallen over the small crowd. ‘It is now ready to drink.’

‘Do I have to do the same to the other one, Professor?’

Arthur Weasley stepped around Dumbledore. ‘No, that’s not needed, Harry; I’ll just seed the other bowl with some of this one. My, wasn’t that wonderful, Dumbledore?’ he went on excitedly, almost babbling. ‘I’ve never seen such a strong reaction in a Qualitas. I must say, I am looking forward to trying it.’ He closed his mouth, looked a little confused for a moment, then started patting his robes. ‘Now then, where did I put that funnel?’

Harry watched bemusedly as Arthur bustled about. From his robes he produced a funnel of sorts – it had a small, thistle-shaped bowl on top of a long glass stem. Taking about half a cup of the golden liquid, he dipped the stem fully into the layered drink and filled the bowl. Then, with a practiced lift, he withdrew it, emptying the funnel as he lifted it up. Broad silver and gold threads spread through each of the layers. Arthur watched carefully, then nodded in satisfaction. ‘Good, it’s done,’ he said.

‘Thank you, Arthur,’ said Dumbledore. Turning once again, he raised his hand and suddenly everybody except Harry held a small glass cup, full of the golden liquid. Most seemed to be expecting this, although Hermione and Dean both jumped and almost spilled theirs. Dumbledore raised his cup and said to the crowd, ‘I give you... Harry Potter! May long life and happiness be his.’

‘To Harry Potter, long life and happiness!’ was the fervent response. And then, as the echoes of the chorus died away, everyone drank.

The sudden silence that followed was shattered by Ginny, who broke into tears and fled the room. Harry reflexively moved to follow her but he was restrained by a small, firm, cool hand on his arm. Whipping his head around to berate whomever it was, he jerked to a halt upon realising it was Professor McGonagall who was restraining him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tonks talking earnestly to Hermione against the left wall.

‘You might want to wait a moment, Mr Potter,’ said McGonagall, sternly but gently.

‘But, why...?’

‘Why was Miss Weasley so affected?’ Harry nodded wordlessly, and McGonagall went on, ‘Mr Potter, I thought you knew about the Qualitas potion? You certainly acted as though you did.’

Shaking his head, Harry replied, ‘N-no, Professor Dumbledore told me what to do and I, er, I worked out that I was going to put something of myself into the drink, but...’

McGonagall sighed. ‘Ceremonies have magical power, Mr Potter. This is a ceremony of sharing. We share our wishes for longevity and happiness, and you share something of yourself with us, so that we might come to know you better. We give you a little of our power; you give us a little of your self; we are linked.’ She could see that Harry still did not understand, so she added, ‘It is this ceremony that is one of the major bases for our extended life span compared to muggles. There are other factors, of course, but nevertheless this is an important aspect of wizarding life.

‘As for Miss Weasley’s reaction, she feels deeply for you and what she felt... look around you, Mr Potter. What do you see?’

Harry did as he was told. ‘Everyone seems to be getting on really well. They seem happy, which is what I wanted, but some of the girls seem a little...’ He drifed off, unable to categorise some of the looks he was getting. The men in the room were uniformly happy and were chatting enthusiastically. Ron had a handful of sandwiches in his hand, but even he seemed to be cheerful as he talked to Lee Jordan about something. The girls, though... Katie and Angelina looked wistful, Mrs Weasley looked like she was about to come over and mother him to death, Hermione and Tonks looked like they were sparkling with happiness. He finally noticed Lupin in the corner, looking at him regretfully. ‘I don’t understand,’ he finished lamely.

‘When I drank, Mr Potter, I felt happiness and gratitude and affection, all of which you no doubt intended. But I believe you put your all into the casting, and as a result I also felt some other things. Loneliness healing, anger and resentment for past injustices, grief for lost family, fear for your friends, pain from your scar, a lingering wonder and curiousity, hope, and a deep, agapé love.’

Harry goggled at McGonagall. He wanted to ask what agapé meant, but all that came out was, ‘I... all that?’ She nodded slowly, then shocked him by smiling warmly at him.

‘The reactions usually differ somewhat from person to person. It’s common to see a divide in people’s reactions along sexual lines, but I have never seen one quite as deep as this. For myself... I am deeply honoured to have been allowed to see so deeply into you, Mr Potter. I will try to be worthy of your faith.’ She glanced over his shoulder. ‘If you will excuse me?’

With that, she swept away, and Harry was confroned by the three just-graduated Chaser girls: Katie, Angelina, and Alicia. This time it was Alicia who caught him up in a firm hug, babbling about how wonderful she felt and how grateful she was to have been included.

* * *

Harry stood against a wall, at long last left to his own devices. He was feeling bitter-sweet. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and he was very glad for that, and it was nice to be left alone for a little after such intense attention, but the knowledge that he had shared something so intimate with everyone here left him feeling embarrassed and vulnerable. That vulnerability made him yearn to talk with Tonks or Hermione or even Luna, but he couldn’t see Tonks or Luna anywhere and Hermione was being monopolised by Ron again. He watched them for a bit, seeing how they interacted. Hermione seemed reserved, but Ron was expansive, always reaching out in Hermione’s direction but never quite touching her.

It was plain to him that Ron was trying to connect with Hermione, and he could not help but feel a sharp stab of jealousy at the thought. His thoughts moved to how it would be if the two of them formed a relationship, and an aching wave of loneliness rose within him and he swallowed a thickness in his throat. He told himself it was stupid to feel that way, he had plenty of friends; everybody in this room at the very least liked him and were here because they wanted to be with him, but it did no good. He finally thought of Sirius. Unutterable sadness at being alone in a room of friends choked him and he shivered at the intensity of the feeling, clutching his elbows to his ribs.

He saw Hermione look his way, concern in her eyes. She said something to Ron in passing and headed his way, never losing eye contact. In moments she stood in front of him, her hand warm on the chilled skin of his arm.

‘Are you okay, Harry? I felt that something’s wrong.’

A pair of arms snaked themselves around him from behind. Whomever it was was most definitely female and, jolted from his introspection, Harry half-turned in the embrace to see that it was Luna who now had him in a hug. She looked him in the eyes, the dreaminess gone from her expression for a long moment before she lowered her shutters against the world once more. ‘He is feeling vulnerable and embarrassed so does not want to approach people, yet he craves touch and affection, especially from you and Tonks, and to a lesser extent myself,’ she said. ‘There are few things sadder than being lonely in a crowd of your friends.’

Hermione gaped at Luna while Harry closed his eyes, somehow relieved that Luna had speared his feelings exactly. Somehow he felt much better, and he did not think to ask how it was that she knew his mind so precisely. He swallowed and realised that he had been ignoring her the whole afternoon.

‘Luna, I’m sorry if I—‘ Luna’s finger over his lips silenced him.

‘I arrived late and was simply waiting my turn to greet you,’ she said straightforwardly. ‘You have not ignored me, and I am glad I was able to be here.’ She turned to Hermione, releasing one arm from Harry to gesture her closer.

Feeling better all the time, Harry released one arm from Luna and pulled Hermione in to make a three-way hug. Looking into her eyes, Harry said, ‘Thank you, Hermione, for coming to help me. I don’t know how you knew, but... thanks.’ Turning to Luna, he added, ‘Thank you very much to you too, Luna. Your letters were really helpful to me. Thanks for taking the time to write them. And thanks for seeing that I needed your help, again.’

Just then, Neville wandered over. ‘What’s happening? Is V-v-voldemort causing your scar to act up again, Harry?’

Harry looked up and, at the sight of numerous concerned faces, let the girls go. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks, Neville.’ He smiled to show he meant it. ‘Really. It was just something I thought of.’

To Harry’s surprise, Ron came over after detouring via the snacks. He pressed a plate of sandwiches into Harry’s hands. ‘Th-thanks, Ron,’ he said, his surprise showing in his voice.

Ron nodded and smiled. ‘You’re welcome.’ He glanced over at the door. ‘We’ll talk later about Ginny.’

Just then Mrs Weasley led a levitating birthday cake into the room. ‘Harry,’ she exclaimed as she bore down on him like a ship under sail, ‘come and cut your birthday cake.’

* * *

The cake and sandwiches and other snacks were long gone, and both bowls of drink were almost empty when the last of the non-Order visitors left. Somewhere along the way the Order members had disappeared, leaving the teens to themselves in the drawing room. Harry sat bonelessly in a wing-back chair by the fire in the drawing room, with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione in the other three chairs. Ginny had returned earlier, given Harry a rib-creaking hug and a kiss on his cheek, and apologised for running off.

‘That was amazing,’ said Harry at last, breaking the crackling silence. He wore a happy smile. ‘Thanks for organising it, ‘Mione.’ Catching her eyes, he broadened his smile for a moment just for her, trying to express the depths of his thanks.

She smiled back at him and nodded. ‘It was something I really wanted to do,’ she said. ‘I’m glad you liked it. But you should also thank Tonks, Mr. Moody, and Professor Dumbledore.’

‘Just call me Moody or Mad-Eye, girl,’ said Moody from the doorway. ‘And Potter, it was a real honor to share of you.’

‘I agree,’ said Professor McGonagall from behind Moody. ‘Thank you, Mr. Potter, for allowing me – all of us – to share of you.’ Her gaze shifted to include Hermione. ‘We have finished the meeting, and Miss Tonks said that she would be available to return home whenever you are ready.’

Harry nodded and pulled himself to his feet. ‘Yes, please,’ he said. ‘I had a great time, but this place still reminds me of...’ He looked down, feeling regret and sadness at Sirius’ loss but no longer disabled by grief. McGonagall nodded, and handed over a small cloth bag.

‘Then take this, and I will send Miss Tonks up shortly. I look forward to seeing you again at the start of term, Mr. Potter. And after seeing what you did with the Qualitas, I must say I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do in my class.’ She smiled briefly at him with genuine warmth before gathering herself and turning back towards the stairs.

Ron pulled himself out of his chair. ‘I’m sorry you’re not staying here for the rest of the holidays,’ said Ron. He looked wistful, and Harry knew that Ron wanted him to stay to rebuild their damaged friendship. He smiled sadly and shook his head.

‘Sorry, Ron, but... I just...’

‘I know, it must be horrible being here after....’ He twined his fingers together nervously, then added, ‘I know Sirius was special to you.’ Harry was amazed when Ron placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Are you okay, mate? Really okay?’

Nodding, Harry placed a hand on Ron’s arm. ‘Yes, I am. I really think I am.’

Ron flinched at the contact, but his tentative smile broadened and his face cleared as he realised that Harry really did feel alright. ‘That’s great! So how’re the muggles treating you?’

‘Tonks is living there with me, as a bodyguard I suppose, but she’s got the place fixed up with magic and the Dursleys ignore me. We each keep to ourselves.’ He took his hand off Ron’s arm and put it on his own shoulder, holding himself unconsciously. ‘It’s really the best it’s ever been. Tonks is like a kind of big sister, you know?’

‘You look like you’re eating well,’ said Ginny. She and Hermione were still sitting, and were smiling up at the two boys.

Harry shrugged at the unspoken criticism of the Dursleys. ‘Tonks again. When she first came I thought I was going to pop, but I’m used to it now. She’s got me doing physical training, too.’

‘I’ll say,’ said Ginny. ‘Look at him, Hermione, doesn’t he just look good enough to eat?’

‘Ginny!’ cried Ron.

‘I’m growing up, Ronniekins. Deal,’ she said in a flat voice.

Ron’s response was interrupted by the sound of Tonks crashing over the umbrella stand in the hallway. A moment later she appeared in the drawing room. ‘Are we ready to go, Harry and Hermione?’

‘Hey, write me a letter and tell me what’s been happening,’ said Ron hurriedly. ‘Poor Pig couldn’t get across the water to England, and I’m dying to know what you’ve been up to. We haven’t heard from you all summer.’

Harry nodded. ‘It might not be Hedwig who delivers it, Dumbledore’s got something funny going on with my mail so it all goes to Moody first.’

‘That rotten—‘

‘No, Ron, he did it after asking me about it,’ interrupted Harry. ‘It’s for my safety, and my sanity I suppose.’ At Ron’s dumbfounded expression he looked around and saw Moody still standing by the door. ‘What’s the latest count, Moody?’

‘As of this morning, three thousand, six hundred and twenty letters and parcels had been received from persons not known to you. One thousand one hundred and seventy of these contain photographs or other items. Two hundred and fifty one had perishable contents and are under stasis; two hundred and three howlers and thirty-five dangerous articles have been destroyed. Sixteen arrests have been made in regard of the latter.’

Ron, Ginny, and Hermione stared at Harry in astonishment. Harry smiled wryly at Ron’s reaction. ‘I don’t suppose you’re still jealous about the famous Harry Potter?’ he asked. Catching Ron’s eyes, he said wistfully, ‘I’ll trade, if you want. I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat except that then you’d be the one in danger, and without a family, and I can’t bear the thought of that.’

With that, he gripped Ron’s shoulder and squeezed it companionably. Then he turned and headed for the entrance hall. Hermione and Tonks joined him and he grasped the rope in Tonks’ hand. He waved at the still-stunned Ginny and Ron, and then the Portkey hooked him up and the world disappeared.

Author’s Note: The idea of having a potion changed by contact with a person is from Dune by Frank Herbert, of course. If you have to steal ideas, steal from the best. :-)

8. A Matter of Will

The Time of Change

by Olafr ([email�protected]

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13

Last updated: 11 December, 2004.

Revision 3: Added in scene setting for the shopping trip plus some internal dialogue. Added explanation for Qualitas potion, changed role of goblins, and returned Draco to his status as secondary villain. (He was too powerful in the first version of this chapter.)

Author�s Notes: This version should explain things a little better, I hope.

8. A Matter of Will

�Hey, write me a letter and tell me what�s been happening,� said Ron hurriedly. �Poor Pig couldn�t get across the water to England, and I�m dying to know what you�ve been up to.�

Harry nodded. �It might not be Hedwig who delivers it, Dumbledore�s got something funny going on with my mail so it all goes to Moody first.�

�That rotten��

�No, Ron, he did it after asking me about it!� interrupted Harry. �It�s for my safety... and sanity I think.� He looked around, saw Moody still standing by the door. �What�s the latest count, Moody?�

�As of this morning, three thousand, six hundred and twenty letters and parcels from persons not known to you. One thousand one hundred and seventy of these contain photographs or other items. Two hundred and fifty one had perishable contents and are under stasis; two hundred and three howlers and thirty-five dangerous articles have been destroyed. Sixteen arrests have been made in regard of the latter.�

Ron, Ginny, and Hermione stared at Harry in astonishment. Harry smiled wryly at Ron�s reaction. �I don�t suppose you�re still jealous about the famous Harry Potter,� he said. �I�ll trade, if you want. I�d trade in a heartbeat except that then you�d be the one in danger and without a family and I can�t bear the thought of that.�

With that, he gripped Ron�s shoulder and squeezed it companionably. Then he turned and headed for the entrance hall. Hermione and Tonks joined him and he grasped the rope in Tonks� hand. He waved at the still-stunned Ginny and Ron, and then the Portkey hooked him up and the world disappeared.

oOoOoOo

The portkey dumped Harry, Hermione, and Tonks in the middle of the training area in the attic at the Dursley home. Harry landed neatly, not even feeling a wobble � a pleasant change from his unfortunate previous history with portkey landings. Hermione had grasped his arm and he felt her tug on it to keep her balance. Tonks squawked as she began to topple, but Harry grabbed her arm and stopped her from falling over.

�Thanks,� she said with a sheepish smile.

Harry smiled in response, then looked around a little. The smile faded from his face, and he said, �I�m going to meditate for a bit. Excuse me.�

Hemione cut in. �Aren�t you going to open your presents?� she asked brightly.

Harry frowned in confusion. �Presents?� He looked down at the bag in his hand, then back at Hermione, smiling once again. �I didn�t expect... I mean, not after this morning....� He stopped and swallowed. Catching Hermione�s eyes, then Tonks�, he said, �Thank you. Thanks for everything about today.� Stepping forward, he caught Tonks in a brief but intense hug, then released her and caught up Hermione, who returned the hug, wrapping her arms about him. Tonks embraced the two of them, and Harry felt a return of the warmth of earlier that afternoon.

oOoOoOo

31 July, 1996

Dear Ron,

It was great to see you today. I�m really sorry that I haven�t been able to write to you before this summer, but I didn�t know where you were! I don�t think Hedwig would have liked me if I had addressed a letter to �Ron Weasley, Romania�, so I didn�t try. Sorry. Still, in person I could tell you stuff I can�t say in a letter, so you probably didn�t miss much after all.

Thank you very much for the model Antipodean Opaleye; it goes nicely with the Hungarian Horntail you gave me before. It got away when I first unwrapped it, and Tonks had to Immobilus it to get it to come back. Next time I�ll read the instructions first! But I like it, it�s really cool. It looks great with my other one, and every now and again they'll play together. It's fun to watch but then again pretty weird. I don't think the magic world will ever stop amazing me.

I�ll write again soon, but for now I have to go. Thanks again for a great birthday!

Harry.

oOoOoOo

31 July, 1996

Dear Ginny,

It was really great to see you today. Thanks for helping make my birthday party really amazing!

Thank you also for the griffin charm you gave me. It�s really wicked � what is it made of? It looks like silver but it�s too heavy for that. Tonks tells me that I�d look silly trying to wear it around my neck, so she�s telling me to get my ear pierced and wear it that way. Do you approve?

I need to go now, but I�ll be writing to you again soon. I�m glad to hear you had a great time in Romania catching up with Charlie and I look forward to hearing more stories from your visit there.

Your friend,

Harry

oOoOoOo

31st July, 1996

Dear Remus,

It feels odd to call you that, even though you asked me to when we chatted at the party. Thanks very much for coming � it was really nice to see you again. Especially with Sirius gone. I�m sure you miss him even more than I do. I miss him terribly. Even though I guess I didn�t know him very long, he was almost like a father to me. You knew him for far longer, and I�m sure it hurts even more for you.

You wouldn�t let me say this when we talked, so let me say it now: Even though Sirius� death is not entirely my fault, part of the blame is mine and for that I am very sorry. I wouldn�t blame you if you no longer wished to speak with me. The fact that you don�t seem to hold it against me amazes me, and I�m grateful for that. When you told me one doesn�t push friends away, you were speaking not only to me, but also to yourself, weren�t you. Well, anyway, thank you again.

I bet you didn�t think I could say that? I�ve had Hermione and my bodyguard helping me this summer, with reading and talk. Hermione�s books on coping with loss and general psychology have been both useful and fascinating, although they�re rather uncomfortable reading in places.

Thank you very much for the amazing gift. Where did you find my parents� wands? Not that it matters; I�ll treasure them forever as a memory of Mum and Dad. Do you think I can get a feel for them through their wands? Is there such a thing as aura magic?

I�m sure I�ll see you tomorrow. I look forward to it. I�m very sorry for not having been in touch so far this summer � at first I wasn�t in the mood, and then I wasn�t sure if you were doing something sensitive. Do you mind if I remain in touch? You�re just about the only person I know who knew my parents well. Of course you�re also my favourite teacher so far at Hogwarts; it�s a real shame you had to leave.

Anyway, I look forward to seeing you. I know it�s a bit strange to write when I expect to see you so soon, but I couldn�t wait. If there�s anything at all you�d like to talk with me about, please feel free to do so.

I hope you�re feeling better soon after the Full Moon on Monday last.

Yours,

Harry.

oOoOoOo

Hermione sat in �her� library chair, Flamel�s book open on her lap. The book was ignored, though, as she watched Harry write a stack of letters � thank-you letters, if she knew Harry. As she watched, he finished one with a flourish, sealed it with wax and a touch from his wand, then started the next.

She wanted to lose herself in study, but could not. It was frustrating not to be able to take refuge in her books, but as she watched Harry she realised that she had a decision to make. Earlier today, Ron had been all over her. He had been reaching out to her in classic �I want you� body language... but she did not feel as though she wanted him. She had known for some time that Ron had feelings for her. At first she thought she might have felt answering feelings in herself, but over the summer her feelings had changed. Friendship, yes, and fellowship... but whatever she felt for Ron, and no matter what Ron felt for her, she did not love him.

But... did she love Harry? He was easily her best friend, a far better friend that Ron if you could get past his tendency to push people away. At least she thought she understood why he did that now. She had devoured a number of psychology books and had privately discussed Harry with her parents� friends the Radfords, the psychologists. They had told her that it was likely the Dursleys� behaviour towards Harry had forced him to become independent and not to ask questions, and given her descriptions of his behaviour they felt he had no concept of self-worth.

And yet, he wasn't a weak person, not by any measure. His tendency to defer to others sometimes made him look that way, but there was something within him that was adamantine. When he believed that something was right and had to be done, he let nothing deflect him � the misguided trip into the Department of Mysteries was only the latest evidence of that. Somehow, in spite of or even because of his upbringing, he had become a person to admire in everything except his belief that his own existence had little value.

He loved her, of that she was utterly certain, although she didn�t know whether it was a romantic love. The Radfords had astonished her when they warned her that Harry probably didn�t understand romantic love, and may not even understand physical love, or even simple touch, whether friendly or intimate. But whether that was true or not, he loved her with an intensity and a sureness few others could match � her reading of some of the books referenced in Flamel�s book told her that the ring was ample evidence of that. And she knew absolutely that she loved him � he was her best friend, and they depended on each other. But... would he want her as a wife? Would she want him as a husband? Be the father of her children? She felt a warmth within herself at the thought, even as her rational mind noted that she still didn�t know the answer for sure, and probably wouldn�t for some time.

At the desk, Harry had now finished his letters and, curiously, handed them to Tonks instead of calling over Hedwig. He then spent some time petting Hedwig, talking to her and making much of her. Deciding to sate her curiosity, Hermione closed the book, set it aside, and got up.

Harry looked up at her and smiled as she came near him. �Hi, Hermione,� he said happily. She sat next to him, half facing him and Hedwig.

�You�re not sending your mail with Hedwig?� she asked.

He shook his head. �There�s too many letters, and besides, Dumbledore arranged a secure system for me to use. Anyway, most of them are for members of the Order. So this time, I�m not using Hedwig.�

Hermione leaned into Harry a little as she reached past him a little to pet Hedwig. The white feathers around the snowy owl�s neck were so soft she could hardly believe it, and she smiled as Hedwig leaned into her caress a little. The big golden eyes caught her and for a long moment it almost seemed as though she was being judged by the owl. A brief sense of otherness flashed through her, and then Hedwig gently nibbled her finger, the horny beak gently pressing on the tough skin of the first knuckle of her finger where her long use of a quill had left a semi-permanent indentation and a light callus.

�I can see why you like her so much,� she said.

Harry nodded. �She�s really special.� Like you, his eyes said to her, although then they shuttered and he looked away. Frustration rose in her, but she ruthlessly suppressed it; she hoped it had not reached her face. He went on, �Did you find what you were looking for?� as he indicated the library area with his eyes.

�Yes. I was reading about the Harbat rings, Harry. I...� She hesitated, then grasped her determination and Gryffindorness. �I understand now what the ring means, Harry, and I want you to know that I feel the same way. If I had the materials, perhaps I could make one for you. I�d like to try. I don�t know if I have the power or...� She allowed her uncertainty to cut off her voice. She looked up to see Harry smiling at her brilliantly, his eyes incandescent.

�Here, take this,� he said, handing her the remains of the gold ingot he had used to make her ring. �Whether you make the ring or not, whether you can or not, it won�t change the fact that you�re my best friend, Hermione. My very best friend.�

Hermione�s heart skipped a beat and she could not help but grin widely. �Thank you, Harry. Thank you very much.�

Tonks came over with such exquisite timing that Hermione knew that she had been listening. �Come on, Hermione, let�s make dinner. Did you want to learn some cooking magic? I�ve gotten quite good at it this summer.�

Harry grinned at Tonks and after briefly patting Hermione�s arm, stood up. �I�m going to meditate. Dumbledore told me something that I need to think about.�

Tonks nodded and gave him a gentle shove towards his bed. �You do that, Harry, but don�t let yourself get too internally focused. Whatever you learn meditating on your bed, you need to be able to do while you�re fighting, too.�

�I know, I know,� he said easily, his serious manner dropping away as he bantered with Tonks. �But I have to learn it first, don�t I?�

�Yeah, yeah, off you go. Come on, Hermione.�

oOoOoOo

Dinner was a small round of fillet steak, served on polenta with a redcurrant sauce. In a bowl was a large garden salad. Harry was a little uncertain about the stiff, golden polenta at first but after tasting it, he quickly ate about half of it, dipping it in the sauce, before slowing down.

�So, what do you think, Harry?� asked Hermione, breaking the silence that had fallen.

�This is delicious!� he exclaimed. Lowering his knife and fork, he smiled over at Hermione. �It�s really different from anything we�ve had before. Did you cook this, Hermione?�

She nodded modestly. �Yes. I�m glad you like it.�

�It�s really nice,� he replied. Tonks grunted agreement enthusiastically as she chewed on a mouthful of food.

�Mother cooks it sometimes,� said Hermione, with a pleased smile.

Harry looked up into the distance and smiled. �You know, today has been so wonderful. I still feel so good, like there�s a glow. It�s a really odd feeling, but I can�t keep from feeling good.�

�I�m glad to hear it,� said Tonks. �Now that was how a birthday should be!�

Hermione nodded in agreement. �Yes, it was a lovely party. And you looked so nice, Harry. You really should wear clothing that fits properly more often, you know.� Harry�s expression clouded briefly, but then he nodded and he fixed Hermione with his eyes.

�Well, then, why don�t we go shopping tomorrow? We have to go to Diagon Alley anyway to go to the reading of the will, and the clothes you two gave me looked and felt so nice, well, I have plenty of money in Gringotts, do you think you could help me choose the clothes?�

Tonks and Hermione shared a look. This kind of happy verbal diahorreah was terribly out of character for Harry. Still, there was nothing for it but to agree.

�Sure thing, Lover-boy,� said Tonky enthusiastically. �Do we get to burn your old stuff afterwards?�

�I�d be happy to,� added Hermione. �Tonks, do you know a suitable place? I�m afraid I�m not really all that familiar with Diagon Alley, since we only go there once a year for my school things.�

Tonks shook her head. �I don�t but I bet Moody does. I�ll ask him later when I check in before we go to bed.�

�Do you check in with him every night?�

Harry�s attention was diverted. �I never noticed. I wonder why? I mean, how could I miss you sneaking out every night just before bed? I mean��

�Shush, Harry,� interjected Tonks. �Of course you didn�t notice; I�m an Auror. But if you�re finished with dinner, it�s time to teach you two about disguise and concealment. Come on, let�s get started.�

oOoOoOo

Moody and Tonks met beneath invisibility cloaks in the front yard of the house at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging. Their heads together, Moody muttered sourly.

�What�s this with you wanting to meet in person, Tonks? What came up that can�t be handled with a messenger spell?�

�I�m worried about Harry. He�s been really off-centre this evening. Ever since we came back from Headquarters, he�s been really hyper, running off at the mouth like he hasn�t got a brain in his head. It�s so unlike him.�

Moody snorted. �Don�t worry about it, Tonks. It�s just the potion. He over-juiced it, that�s all. He�ll be fine once we sleep it off.�

Tonks stared at the thin air that she knew held Moody. �Over-juiced it?�

�Sure. Trust him to put his whole effort into it. You�re only supposed to give it a bit of a jolt. But he didn�t, probably because Dumbledore didn�t say anything and he didn�t know any better, so he shared a lot more of himself than was intended. So we�re all juiced up on the feelings he put into it, and they�re feeding back to him like they�re meant to but they�re all so strong that his system can�t deal with it. But once everyone gets some sleep and lets it all bleed off, the level of feedback�ll come back to a more normal level. And once he gets a good night�s sleep, his system�ll adjust and we won�t notice it any more until he needs it.�

�What are you talking about, Moody?�

�Tonks, the kid�s not the only one who needs to do a bit of reading. Qualitas ain�t just a coming of age thing, you know. It�s a community ritual. It promotes solidarity and good feeling when done normally. But here�s the thing that�s not generally known: It also sets up power sharing links. Each of us can call upon Potter�s power, now, and he can call on each of us. Usually it�s nothing major, but now that I think about it, Dumbledore no doubt deliberately let the kid over-power the potion like he did to increase the efficiency of the sharing. Did you see how much of the potion changed? The sharing channels must be like bloody great hose pipes. No doubt part of the reason he�s so hyper at the moment.�

Tonks thought about this for a moment, controlling her emotions with practice but not with ease. Eventually she said, �All this is because of You-know-who, of course.�

�That�s right. The kid�s powerful, but Dumbledore must be worried it won�t be enough. So...�

Crickets broke a long silence as they both contemplated this thought. Eventually Moody spoke again.

�Was there anything else?� he asked at last.

�Yeah. Harry�s let us take him shopping tomorrow. Get him a whole new wardrobe. He�s asked me and Hermione to help him pick. That�s great; we can help him out. But we both know Lover Boy�s richer than sin, even if he doesn�t. The Great Families expect him to dress to a certain standard, as you know.�

�Yeah, I know; why do you think they didn�t do anything about Fudge�s slander and libel last year?�

Tonks stopped for a moment to stare at the thin air next to her. �Oh. Yeah. Well, anyway, where should we go to get his stuff? You seem to know everything.�

�There�s only one place to take him, Tonks.�

oOoOoOo

The next day, it was about ten o�clock in the morning when a wizard and two witches appeared in a room in the Leaky Cauldron. This room was an ordinary hotel room, reserved the previous night by one of the Order members. All three were dressed conservatively: The wizard, who was of medium height and wore plain, black robes with a white shirt-collar peeking out, had neck-length hair the colour of polished oak peeking out from beneath his rather broad-brimmed, pointed hat.

The two witches appeared to be wizard�s sisters, one elder, one younger or the same age. The younger witch wore Hogwarts robes which declared her to be a Ravenclaw, while the elder wore a light dress of flattering cut beneath summer half-robes. Her wide, hazel eyes twinkled in the dimness of the room as the wizard tucked away the short length of rope that had been the portkey that had got them here.

�All right there, you two?� she asked in a quiet voice. Two nods were her reply. �Good,� she continued. �Harry, don�t forget you�re called...�

�Iain,� he replied to Tonks� non-verbal prompt.

�Julia,� added the disguised Hermione.

�And you�re Nymphadora,� added Harry with a grin.

�Elizabeth!� snarled Tonks, her eyes flashing red. Harry quailed, then recovered with a shiver.

�Don�t do that!� he said. �Reminds me of Vol--�

�Okay, okay, I get the idea,� put in Tonks, cutting Harry off before he could finish Voldemort�s name.

There was a long moment of quiet, before Hermione said brightly, �So, where are we going first?�

�Buckley�s,� said Tonks succinctly.

Harry sighed resignedly and followed Hermione and Tonks out of the Leaky Cauldron.

oOoOoOo

Diagon Alley was not crowded, Harry was pleasantly surprised to discover. Knots of people, mostly women, some with children, were scattered throughout the visible parts of the Alley, with some lone shoppers walking purposefully here and there. He mused that this was much more pleasant than in the last few days before school went back when it seemed that half the population of the Wizarding world did its shopping at once.

Tonks led the way down a part of the Alley he had only visited briefly during the summer he had blown up Aunt Marge and run away to the Leaky Cauldron. Its sober signs and restrained storefronts had not been interesting to him at the time; in fact he had been somewhat intimidated, so he had not explored thoroughly.

Now, though, he saw with more experienced eyes that there were all kinds of interesting things tucked away down here. Tonks led a cracking pace, though, so he just noted that he should spend some time exploring down here more thoroughly before she led them through the front door of a shop that oozed restrained elegance. The sign on the glass said, Buckley and Nunn, Gentleman�s Outfitters.

Inside, the smell of new cloth and the vague spiciness of leather and wool stored in cedar tickled Harry�s nostrils. A bell tinkled discreetly as the door closed behind them, and from behind a curtain a tall, cadaverously thin man came, strutting in long, awkward strides like a wading bird.

�Good day, madame,� he said with a peculiarly emphatic movement of his adam�s apple, almost as though he was gulping his words even though they were mellifluously enunciated. �How may I assist you?� His eyes drifted to Harry expectantly.

�My cousin needs a new wardrobe. Everything,� said Tonks. She pinned the man with a stern gaze. �He would prefer that his presence not be... advertised.�

The man managed to look offended without losing his vaguely servile expression. �I assure you, madam, that Buckley and Nunn prides itself on its discretion even more than on the quality of its merchandise.� He pulled out a wand and waved it, muttering a brief phrase. A door revealed itself near the curtain, which the man pushed open. �My name is Rogers. Please step inside and we will begin.�

Behind the door was a large fitting room with mirrors on all four walls. A low platform about six inches high and two feet square stood to one side, and a curtain could be drawn across the middle of the room. A three-seat couch and an armchair sat in the public side of the room. Rogers herded Harry into the curtained side of the room, saying, �Please be seated, ladies, and we will begin.� The door closed itself behind Hermione as she followed Tonks into the room, and Harry looked to Tonks. She waved her wand at him and his hair returned to its normal black. At Tonks� nod, he removed his hat.

As he did so, he watched the man, Rogers. He was gratified to see that apart from a brief flick of the man�s eyes to his forehead, there was no reaction. Doffing his cloak, he fought back a wry smile as Rogers� lip curled at the condition and fit of Harry�s rather ragged clothes.

Into the silence, Hermione put in, �Harry is forced to live with his relatives, who treat him abominably. They have never bought him clothes of his own; instead, he is forced to wear their rather obese son�s hand-me-downs.� Shocked at her mortifying admission, Harry turned to yell her into silence but held his voice when he noticed how embarrassed she looked. �Harry has ample funds of his own, but has not been able to access them, or Diagon Alley, until now for a variety of reasons.�

Unable to keep quiet any more, Harry hissed, �Hermione!�

Hermione�s eyes flashed. �Be quiet, Harry,� she said. �We have to trust Mr Rogers. We can trust him because if it became known that he talked about any client of his, his business would evaporate overnight. He and other shopkeepers like him cater to the rich and people who desire privacy, and they charge a premium for that service. It�s his job to make you look as good as possible, because if he made you look stupid he would risk his reputation, and reputation is everything in a store of this kind.�

Harry stared at Hermione, mouth agape. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and was about to speak when Rogers cut in.

�Quite so,� he said proudly. �I do not recognise you, ma�amselle...?�

Hermione glanced at Tonks who waved her wand and muttered a few words, and her appearance returned to her real self with a shimmer. �I am Hermione Granger. This lady is Harry�s guard.� Her tones were pure upper crust, with a core of steel. Harry had never quite heard the like before from her. He returned his gaze to Rogers, and was amazed to see him smiling genteelly. The man appeared much more relaxed, almost like a cart horse settling into harness.

�Very good, Miss Granger,� he said with a bow. �If you will wait a moment, I will measure Mr Potter and we will begin, if that is acceptable.� Rogers waited for Hermione�s regal nod before drawing the privacy curtain.

oOoOoOo

�I hate this stupid hat,� muttered Harry as the long pointed tip of said hat caught for the third time on one of the overhead signs in Diagon Alley. Tonks� hat-stick charm, which prevented the hat from being ripped from his head (which she had applied after the second almost-revealing of the boy-who-lived�s scar and eyes), jerked his scalp painfully.

�I told you, walk in the middle of the road so you don�t catch it,� said Tonks.

�But it feels so rude just to barge down the middle like that,� he complained.

�And what about them? Aren�t they being rude by forcing you to go around like that?�

Harry shrugged. �I can�t help other people.�

Tonks and Hermione shared a glance, and Hermione chimed in.

�It�s a shame you couldn�t get the disguise charms down, Harry,� she said easily.

�Iain!� hissed Tonks under her breath.

�Iain,� corrected Hermione with a blush. �Still, I suppose you just need a bit more practice.�

Harry shrugged. �Maybe.� Under his breath, he added, �Bloody scar.�

As the three of them ambled along Diagon Alley back towards Gringotts from Florean Fortescue�s, where they had gone to kill time after finishing early at Buckley and Nunn�s. They stepped around knots of gossiping housewives and clumps of people who gathered around some spectacular window displays by the stores that populated the most desirable part of the Alley � from a retail point of view � near the Leaky Cauldron, Harry thought back to the rather rushed disguise training that Tonks had given Hermione and himself last night. Hermione had had no problems, and was able to produce a credible disguise in fairly short order. But Harry himself had had no end of problems. No matter what he tried, he had been unable to make a disguise stick except for his hair.

Harry rather thought that his scar was the root of his problems in that area. He could feel the illusion beginning to take before it would suddenly unravel, accompanied by a... well, not a twinge, as such, but the oddest feeling from his scar.

And so it was that he was wearing this ridiculous getup on a lovely summer�s day while Tonks and Hermione � no, Julia, he reminded himself � got to be comfortable. It didn�t help that there were any number of other people dressed just like him in Diagon Alley that day; Harry�s sensibilities were still thoroughly Muggle for all that he had spent so much of his life � all his teens, really � in the Wizarding world.

When they finally ascended into the main lobby of Gringott�s, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Even with the coming reading of the will, which he was honestly dreading, it was nice to not have to worry about his scalp being pulled off his head.

He grimaced a wry smile to himself. Perhaps he exaggerated. A little.

�This way,� said Tonks. She led them over to a desk to one side of the tellers, where an elderly goblin sat. As Tonks approached, he looked at her in a polite, but wordless, inquiry. �Despatch department,� she said. �Four o�clock.�

A flick of his eyes to the hidden top of his desk, and with a gesture of his right hand a door behind him opened. �Please enter,� he said neutrally, the gesture of his hand becoming an invitation to pass to the door.

Tonks nodded her head, and stepped past him to the door in the wall behind the goblin. Harry and Hermione followed. They entered a small, windowless room and the door closed behind them. A moment later, the other side of the room changed to reveal a doorway, which opened of its own accord. Through a brief attack of dizziness, Harry saw another windowless room, this one furnished comfortably with a large semi-circular table surrounded on its circular side by leather-upholstered chairs. The walls were old-fashioned, wood panelled up to eye height with white plaster above in the Tudor style, and the floor, also of wood, was covered in a large rug of intricate, twisted design in red and blue.

Other than the furniture, the room was empty. Tonks led the way in and plonked herself down in a chair. Harry and Hermione paused, looking about.

�You may as well sit down,� said Tonks. �The others will arrive soon, and then the reading will take place.�

Harry slipped into the seat to Tonks� left, and Hermione sat to his left, which was at the end of the table. �Say, Tonks, why did you ask for the Despatch Department?� he blurted suddenly. He was amazed to hear Tonks giggle.

�It�s from the newspapers,� she said in response to the strange looks she got from both teens. �There�s a section called Births, Deaths, and Marriages, right? Well, the slang term for that is Hatches, Matches, and Despatches.� Hermione giggled immediately, and a few moments later Harry grinned in spite of himself. The he looked around, the smile left his face, and he closed his eyes. For a long moment there was utter silence.

�I wonder why they�ve got a blackjack table in here?� mused Hermione to herself. She looked to Harry, who had now had a peaceful look on his face, then to Tonks, who was smiling wistfully at Harry. Hermione was about to say something when Tonks� eyes flicked to the door behind them. It opened with the rattle-click of a turning doorknob, and in walked a tall woman of regal bearing, her long, blonde hair caught in silver hairclips to drape freely over her back. Her black mourning dress was beautifully tailored. Behind her came Draco Malfoy, also dressed in black, his eyes hungry and an anticipatory grin on his face.

When he saw Harry and Hermione, however, his eyes blazed and his fists clenched, his mouth twisting into a sneer. �What are Potty and the mudblood doing here?� he spat hatefully.

�Draco,� said Narcissa in a warning tone. She pulled out the chair next to Tonks and prepared to sit. She paused, looking back at her son Draco who was trembling, like a pit bull terrier about to pounce.

�I asked you a question, Potty!� he snarled.

Harry came out of his trance and looked around, a half-smile on his face. �Good day to you, Draco,� he said calmly, almost welcomingly. �Are you having a pleasant summer break?�

Hermione�s eyes widened at the wildly uncharacteristic utterance, then widened further as the likely reaction such a statement would generate occurred to her. She shifted her gaze to Draco, and was rewarded by the sight of his eyes popping, his pale complexion disappearing beneath the flush of apoplexy as rage gripped him.

�Why you...!�

Harry shrugged and turned away, ignoring Draco, while Tonks looked up at Narcissa. �Long time no see, Aunt Narcissa,� she said with a grin.

Narcissa turned her icy gaze onto Tonks. �Hello, Nymphadora,� she said neutrally.

�I see you�re still having problems instilling basic politeness into young Draco, there,� said Tonks. Narcissa gave Tonks a look and sat.

The fingers of Draco�s right hand flexed, and his wand appeared in his hand.

�Do, please, use magic, Mr Malfoy� said Tonks, suddenly alert. �Please give me an excuse.�

�I�ll do what I want, you half-muggle mutt,� snarled Draco. �I asked a question and I expect an answer!�

�Draco!� Narcissa�s voice cracked like a whiplash. �Sit down and be quiet. If you use that wand, you will truly deserve what follows.�

Draco was taken aback at the lack of support from his mother. �W-wha?�

Tonks smiled viciously. ��Stupidity is the only capital crime, the sentence is death, there is no appeal, and execution is immediate.� Heinlein � an interesting fellow.�

Hermione smiled at Tonks� comment, making a mental note to look the saying up later.

The door opened again, and Remus Lupin entered, followed by Arthur and Molly Weasley, and almost immediately thereafter a door behind the flat part of the table opened and a goblin of indeterminate age entered, carrying a bluish metal cylinder about a foot long and three inches in diameter. It looked to Harry almost like a scroll case. A rather aged wizard in formal business robes, carrying a thick pile of parchment, followed the goblin.

�If you will all be seated, we will begin,� said the Goblin in a businesslike fashion. With a glance at Draco, he added, �I remind you all of Gringott�s policy regarding the use of magic.�

Everyone moved to be seated except Draco, who looked lost standing on his own despite the aggressive posture he held, his wand ready to strike.

The goblin looked significantly at Narcissa. She closed her eyes and sighed. �Draco! If you do not put up your wand now I will break it myself!�

Harry smiled at Draco�s predicament as the platinum-haired boy stood there indecisively, pride warring against obedience, until finally he relaxed and his wand disappeared. The look he threw at Harry promised death, but Harry continued to smile peacefully at Draco. It had come to him that in an environment such as Gringott�s, where a total ban on the use of wand magic was strictly enforced by the goblins, the best way he could annoy his enemy would be to be excruciatingly polite to him.

And so he had, even though it required iron control to do so. The way Draco had reacted had been a magnificent reward, and Harry promised himself to do it again as soon as he could. As Draco sat, reluctance in every line of his body, Harry smiled at him politely then turned his attention to the goblin.

�This is the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Sirius Terence Black. My name is Mortlock. My assistant is Mr Reginald Pace from Pace, Fairchild, and Wills. This firm administers both the Black and the Potter family trust, amongst others. Thank you all for attending today.� Mortlock sat, and Pace stood up, resting his hands upon the stack of parchment.

�Before we begin the usual process, there is a prerequisite step that must be completed. Mr Potter?� Pace�s voice was firm and assured despite his apparent advanced age.

�Yes?� asked Harry.

�Mr Black wished to adopt you. He was prevented by a Ministry bar on his actions due to his status as an escaped prisoner. However, the paperwork which was required before you could be asked was submitted some months before his death, and with his pardon, it could be processed. It now has been.� Pace laid a single sheet of parchment on the table in front of Harry.

�The adoption requires only your approval to go forward. To anticipate some likely questions, if you are adopted, you have the choice of calling yourself Potter, Black, Potter-Black, or Black-Potter. You would remain the scion of the Potter family. The Potter family trusts, properties, and so forth would not be merged with the Black trusts; they would remain separate from the Black family inheritance and you will be required to maintain them that way, preferably by appointing separate heirs for each.�

�If I do not sign, what will happen?� He wanted to ask about the Potter family trust but managed to hold his tongue, concentrating on the most important question.

Pace�s expression remained fixed as far as Harry could tell, but something about him conveyed the impression that not to sign would have a bad outcome. �Then you would not have been adopted into the Black family as Sirius Black�s son on 13 March of this year.�

Harry closed his eyes. He already had two dead parents... why would he want a third? And yet, some instinct told Harry that Sirius had gone to a great deal of trouble to do this. It was an expression of Sirius� love for him, a declaration that he wanted to live as a family with him. The words of Sirius� hasty letter to him came back to him...

Opening his eyes and wiping away the beginnings of tears, Harry nodded. �I�ll do it. I�ll do it in memory of Sirius.�

�AVA-!�

�DRACO!� Narcissa�s voice cracked like a whip, stilling the room as if an Impedimentia charm had been cast. Harry jerked his attention from the goblin to see that Narcissa had Draco�s wand hand in her own, holding it down. Draco�s rage was incandescent.

Looking back, Harry took a quill from Pace. He signed as the goblin directed, then held still as Pace pressed a lancet into the pad of his thumb to drip a drop of blood onto the contract. It was immediately absorbed and the contract flashed white.

�It is done,� said Pace formally. �I acknowledge you as, Harry James Potter-Black, son of Sirius Terence Black.� The air shimmered, there was a brief pressure on his being, and then it was done. He sat, and shuffled some papers to the bottom of the stack before him.

There was a moment of silence during which Mortlock looked from Tonks to Narcissa. Getting the hint, Tonks sat forward and turned to Narcissa. �Aunt Narcissa, I must caution you formally that if your son so much as begins another spell today, I will be forced to arrest him and charge him with at least three offences, one of which, if he were to be convicted, carries a mandatory sentence of imprisonment. I have not done so already out of recognition of the family bonds we share, but I can no longer take that into consideration. I�m sorry.�

�I thank you for your forbearance,� said Narcissa in tones that were velvet lined with steel. �As well as that of Gringott�s bank. The family of Malfoy most humbly apologises for the behaviour of its son. I assure both of you that he will behave himself henceforth. If necessary I will silence him myself, after seeking permission from Mortlock, of course.� Her eyes glanced at the impassive goblin, who was waiting patiently for them to be ready to continue. He nodded slightly, and Narcissa returned her molten gaze to her son. Unable to stand up beneath the threat of that gaze, he bowed his head and, flushed with embarrassment, sat down without a word.

�If we are ready, we will begin the reading of the will itself.� Mortlock touched the table, and a circular part of its surface the same size as the metal cylinder rose up about an inch. He set the cylinder on the raised section of the table, then ran his finger down its side as if he were opening a vault door.

The cylinder broke in to four parts, the sides laying down flat. Within it, a white substance remained in cylindrical shape, then reformed itself into a model about eighteen inches high of Sirius Black sitting in a chair. Harry gasped, but retained his control.

�Hi, everyone. I declare my son, Harry James Potter-Black, to be my principal heir. So take that and stick it up your arse, Draco Malfoy, I know you�re there, no doubt hoping to get your sticky little hands on the Black fortune. Well you�re shit outta luck, kid, so why don�t you go take a long walk off a short pier.� The miniature figure of Sirius paused for a moment to grin viciously before composing himself. He continued in more measured tones, as though reading from a document.

�As per the conditions of the trust, the liquid assets of the Black family trust are divided equally between Harry James Potter-Black, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, and Andromeda Black Tonks. In the event that any of them predecease me, their share is to be distributed amongst those remaining. Control of the Black Family Trust, and all the goods and chattels therein, passes to Harry James Potter-Black.

�My entire personal belongings and wealth I bequeath to my son, Harry James Potter-Black, except as follows:

�To Remus Lupin, last of the true Marauders, one hundred thousand galleons. I also bequeath to Remus my little black books, and the sum of five thousand galleons which must be spent within thirty days of the bequest, solely on clothing and accessories. Remus, my old friend, let me do for you in death what you would never permit while I lived.

�To Arthur and Molly Weasley, for taking such good care of my son when I could not, fifty thousand galleons.

�To Nymphadora Tonks, my favourite niece, ten thousand galleons.

�To Fred and George Weasley, worthy successors to the Marauders, ten thousand galleons.

�To Ron Weasley, son of Arthur Weasley and good friend of my son, ten thousand galleons and my collection of racing brooms.

�To Hermione Granger, for supporting my son at all times through thick and thin, twenty thousand galleons. In addition, a diminishing-balance fifty-year trust fund shall be established from my personal wealth sufficient to provide Hermione with an annual stipend of one thousand galleons, to be used for the purchase of books.

�And that�s all. I look forward to seeing some of you again, but not for a long, long time.�

The figure dissolved and the metal container snapped shut, once more containing the white material. Mortlock laid a bulky scroll next to it.

�This is the legal version of Mr Black�s Last Will and Testament. It will be available for review to anyone who requests it. Except for a secret codicil which will be dealt with privately between the parties concerned, its substance is no different from what was just heard.�

There was a long silence, then Draco stood so violently that his chair tipped over backwards and went skittering noisily across the floor. Harry met his eyes, and recoiled at the insanity that boiled there. The blonde-haired boy was trembling, a drop of blood trembling as it dangled from the knuckles of one clenched fist.

�You will pay, Potter. You have taken what is rightfully mine. I swear by all that I am, that I will have vengeance!� There was a pause, as if Draco expected something to happen but it did not. Harry looked up at him, fighting to maintain a calm expression, and Draco stormed out, leaving a room full of stunned people behind him.

Narcissa Malfoy was the first to recover. She bowed in Harry�s general direction. �I apologise for the conduct of my son.� Her eyes were somewhat wild, however, and she looked even paler than she had coming into the room. With another sketchy bow, she turned and scurried out of the room.

In her wake was left a nervous silence. Mortlock stood, gathered his things, and left quietly by the door behind him. A moment later another goblin, visibly youthful, scurried in and handed Harry a leather wallet about the size of his hand, embossed with the Gringott�s logo, and a piece of stiff parchment sealed with red wax. As the goblin scurried away again, Harry examined the seal on the letter. He didn�t recognise it. The goblin handed smaller leather wallets to Tonks and Mrs Weasley, and quietly left.

As though the closing of the door after the young goblin released some kind of weird stasis, everyone suddenly stood up. Mrs Weasley strode over to enfold Harry in a huge hug. �Oh, Harry,� she cried, pulling his head firmly into her shoulder. �That�s just awful; what a terrible, terrible boy he is!�

Harry got his hands onto Mrs Weasley�s shoulders and pushed back gently. �I�m sure it�s nothing,� he said with a weak smile. He saw Tonks, Arthur and Remus exchange a look of concern. Mrs Weasley let him go as Hermione wrapped herself around his left arm. He looked down at her, seeing that her eyes were shimmering.

�It�s not nothing, Harry,� she said worriedly. �You saw what he did � he swore an oath! A vindicius oath!�

Tonks snorted. �He certainly tried! But he failed.�

Letting out a deep breath, Harry slumped, leaning heavily against Hermione. He felt as though he was a balloon whose air had been let out. �I know, Hermione, and Nymph, I know that, too,� he said softly. He moved his gaze to Tonks, then Remus and Mr Weasley. �Even if the oath didn�t work, he�s going to be more irrational than ever. But what can I do about it except be careful?�

The adults exchanged a glance once again. �We�ll discuss the situation with Albus,� said Mr Weasley at last.

The sombre silence that followed was broken by the sound of the door behind the desk opening once more. A new goblin entered and placed a leather folder and another one of the wallets on the table in front of Mr Pace before turning to leave. Something about the goblin tugged at Harry�s memory. He stood straight again, almost unconsciously moving his arm within Hermione�s grasp so he could hold her close. Where had he....

�Griphook?� asked Harry uncertainly. The goblin�s eyes widened and he looked up at Harry closely. His fleshy lips parted in a toothy smile that revealed carnivorous teeth.

�Mr Potter, I did not expect you to remember me,� he said in a voice that was probably warm for a goblin, Harry thought. �It has been several years.� Harry nodded wordlessly. �I will no doubt see you again.� With that, he turned and left.

Mr Pace took the large folder and opened it before Harry, turning it around so he could see its contents.

�Your family�s assets will come into your control on your twenty-first birthday,� said Pace. �From yesterday, your sixteenth birthday, you have been able to get access to the family vaults and draw upon them even though you as yet have no control over the trust assets and its disposition. I must brief you and give you your keys.� He glanced at the other people in the chamber. �It is best done privately.�

Harry hugged Hermione with his arm briefly. �I want Hermione and Tonks to be with me.� He looked to the others. �Does anyone else feel they should stay?� Mr and Mrs Weasley shook their heads and made to withdraw, but Remus Lupin looked torn. Harry noticed this, and said, �Please stay, Pro-- Remus. If you can help, I�ll probably need some advice.�

Remus looked relieved. �Thank you, Harry. James had to take up the reins of the family�s wealth quite early, too, and he would talk with me about some of it, so perhaps I can help.� Harry�s eyes grew wide and he nodded eagerly.

�Please stay, then!� he said.

oOoOoOo

Author�s Notes Redux: Some ideas and words in this chapter owe their existence to other authors, and it isn�t right to just use them without attribution. So this is where I own up.

The notion that Harry becomes Sirius� primary heir is too common to assign to a particular author. The idea of Sirius� bequeathing a book-buying allowance to Hermione came from Harry Potter and the The Year of Rebellion, by Full Pensieve. The notion of a wizard�s oath as an actual magical spell comes from numerous works by DrT and Kinsfire. Draco�s descrption of Tonks as a �half-muggle mutt� came from Gentry Green by Lisa Roquin, and the notion of Sirius adopting Harry to ensure that he is properly the heir to his fortune and properties comes from Sorceror�s Apprentice by Kinsfire.

The quotation that Tonks butchered is from Time Enough For Love, by Robert A. Heinlein: �Stupidity cannot be cured with money, or through education, or by legislation. Stupidity is not a sin, the victim can't help being stupid. But stupidity is the only universal capital crime; the sentence is death, there is no appeal, and execution is carried out automatically and without pity.�

9. Occlumens

The Time of Change

by Olafr (olafr@iinet.net.au)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13

Last updated: 27 February, 2005.

Author’s Notes: This one was been giving me real trouble until I realised I’d fallen into the trap of trying to tell everything, not just the story. It seems to be going okay now, though.

I’ve decided to change to the more ordinary system of using double quotes to quote utterances. I had been using single quotes, aping the typography used in the books, but have decided it isn’t worth putting up with complaints and is no harder to do it the traditional way. I have no plans to go back and change the previous parts, though.

This part was originally intended to included the move to the Grangers. But I decided to introduce the Grangers next time.

9. Occlumens

Mr Pace took the large folder and opened it before Harry, turning it around so he could see its contents.

“Your family’s assets will come into your control on your twenty-first birthday,” said Pace. “From yesterday, your sixteenth birthday, you have been able to get access to the family vaults and draw upon them even though you as yet have no control over the trust assets and its disposition. I must brief you and give you your keys.” He glanced at the other people in the chamber. “It is best done privately.”

Harry hugged Hermione with his arm briefly. “I want Hermione and Tonks to be with me.” He looked to the others. “Does anyone else feel they should stay?” Mr and Mrs Weasley shook their heads and made to withdraw, but Remus Lupin looked torn. Harry noticed this, and said, “Please stay, Pro-- Remus. If you can help, I”ll probably need some advice.”

Remus looked relieved. “Thank you, Harry. James had to take up the reins of the family’s wealth quite early, too, and he would talk with me about some of it, so perhaps I can help.” Harry’s eyes grew wide and he nodded eagerly.

“Please stay, then!” he said.

oOoOoOo

Back in a quiet corner of the Leaky Cauldron, and once more in disguise as the Banks family, Harry, Hermione, and Tonks nursed butterbeers. They were enjoying the last moments of their outing before returning back to Privet Drive. It hadn’t taken long to finish the business at Gringotts – it had quickly become apparent that Harry, having absolutely no experience in matters of finance or property or anything else along those lines, would be better served by Remus’ patient tutoring. It had been decided that Remus would visit the following day to spend a couple of hours with Harry, commencing his education, and getting Harry to the point where he could educate himself by studying books.

Personally, Harry rather thought that the whole business sounded like an enormous drag, but he acknowledged that he had to know enough to realise when he was being cheated.

For the moment, though, he was content to sit back and sip his butterbeer before returning to his studies tomorrow.

“I still can’t believe it,” said Tonks out of the blue.

“Believe what?” asked Harry, somewhat uncharacteristically.

“That thing that Sirius pulled with the Trust.” She snickered suddenly, then blurted, “Aunt Bella is going to be so pissed!”

Harry smiled, as did Hermione, who added, “Well, it only makes sense. He was forced to distribute the cash and so forth – the liquid assets – and so of course he made sure that the trust was as illiquid as possible. The nine hundred galleons that were distributed were probably what he kept in the trust as a spending reserve, that’s all.”

Both Harry and Tonks goggled at Hermione. “Where do you learn words like that, er, Julia?” he asked. “Illiquid?”. Hermione sniffed.

“Just because you don’t read the newspapers, Iain, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t learn from them.”

“I’d just as soon avoid contamination by that squalid little rag, the Daily Prophet, if you don’t mind,” spat Harry. His lips twisted in revulsion as he realised he was repeating a phrase he had heard used by Vernon Dursley.

“Children,” scolded Tonks.

“That reminds me,” continued Harry in a milder tone of voice, “how did you know how to handle Mr Rogers? That was really strange; you spoke politely, but, um...”

Hermione smiled. “I’ve been shopping with my cousins once or twice.”

“Excuse me?” asked Harry with a blank look.

“My mother’s sisters’ children. My aunts both married into money, and their children are about the same age as me. They took me shopping a couple of times, and showed me how to deal with people like him.” At Harry’s confused expression, she added, “Well, actually, they were showing off and telling me how important it was to be firm with them.” She looked up at the far corner of the room. “It’s a completely different world, Harry. I had no idea; Mother says most people have no idea how the rich go shopping. They certainly don’t just drive down to the nearby Marks and Spencer.”

“Really?” asked Tonks.

“Yes, you see, celebrities use services like that to avoid being mobbed and the rich use them as a security measure.”

Harry leaned forward, his interest captured. “Go on,” he said, eager to learn how to avoid attention.

oOoOoOo

All too soon it was Monday again, and Harry sat, slumped over, in the comfortable armchair he had earlier conjured in response to Snape’s arrival. Snape stood and looked down at him, almost pityingly. “Potter,” he said as he gathered up his cloak. Harry looked up, his eyes bloodshot and his face slack with exhaustion. Snape continued.

“You did much better this time, but you are still missing the point. You are still using muggle mental disciplines, are you not?” He while Harry pondered the question, and at length he nodded. Snape rested his head in his hand, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and let out a soft sigh. “Potter, are you a wizard or aren’t you?” he spat disgustedly.

Harry looked at Snape incredulously before turning his head away. Snape donned his cloak and turned to face Tonks, who had watched proceedings from her seat at the kitchen table. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the know-it-all, Granger, sneaking a worried look over the top of her current book.

“I will be in contact to schedule times once you have moved to the Granger house,” said Snape to Tonks as he walked smartly towards the table. She handed him his broom, which he took with a nod. A moment later, he was disillusioned and gone.

Tonks made her way over to where Harry still sat in his chair. His head lolled somewhat, now flung back against the chair back, but his eyes were open wide and staring up at something only he could see. Tonks paused, hesitant to disturb him, and then hurrying footsteps from Hermione caused her to delay further, leaving Harry where he was.

“Don’t disturb him!” whispered Hermione urgently as she grabbed Tonks’ arm, hard.

“Wha-?”

“Shh! He’s had inspiration. Leave him be!”

Just then, Harry started to laugh. At first a single bark, then a brief chuckle, and then a broad grin split his face as he laughed heartily out loud, almost hysterically. His eyes focused and his gaze fell on the two women.

“I’ve got it!” he cried as he leapt out of the chair, spinning in the air to face the two girls. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it! I’m a wizard, Snape, so take that!” With that pronouncement he jumped forward and grabbed Tonks, spinning her around and kissing her on the cheek before letting her go. Spinning, he did the same with Hermione whose expression was a mixture of discomfort and surprised pleasure.

oOoOoOo

In the sitting room adjacent to his office at Hogwarts, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore felt the peculiar flood of pleasure and power coming from Harry’s link and smiled to himself. At last, he mused to himself with a smile playing about his lips, Harry’s taken the first significant step. Congratulations, dear boy.

oOoOoOo

It was dark and quiet when Harry awoke, suddenly alert. Pale light from the half moon etched silhouettes of the open windows on one wall of the tall, cathedral-like attic space.

The bed was warm, and lifting his head, Harry saw that both Tonks and Hermione were sleeping peacefully to either side of him; Tonks on his left, and Hermione on his right. He could hear Tonks’ breathing, almost a light snore, and he smiled at her as he sat up. Just past her, he could see the glowing hands of his clock. Twenty past two. What had woken him? With a thought he checked the wards, but there had been no activity.

The covers behind him rustled, and he turned his head to see that Hermione was now awake, leaning on one elbow. “Are you all right, Harry?” she asked. Her voice was muzzy, and he could visualise her blinking sleep out of her eyes. In the pale half-light of the moon reflected from the walls, he could barely make out her silhouette, dark against the dim, pale grey that was the white sheets of the bed. He nodded in reply.

“Yes, thanks,” he said in a low voice to try and avoid waking Tonks. “I’m just suddenly... awake,” he continued.

“No pain from your scar?” She leaned towards him, reaching towards his forehead. He held still and let her lay her palm against his head, measuring. A burst of smell came to him as she leaned forward and pushed back the covers somewhat, a warm bed smell, essential Hermione. He closed his eyes, breathing in and smiling. At length she removed her hand. “It doesn’t feel hot.”

“No.”

“Last time you did Occlumency, you had problems with your scar. We were worried that might happen tonight as well, which is why we’re here with you.”

Harry nodded again, continuing to smile at Hermione. “Yes, I know. It looks as though I’m going to be okay, though.” He reached out towards her hand was resting on the covers, pausing at the last moment before he made contact, then finishing the motion. “Thank you.” For everything, even for being, the tone of his voice said.

Hermione gripped his fingers and lay back down again. He could feel her smiling up at him. “Thank you,” she replied, ambiguously. She squeezed again, then turned hers within his grip so that their fingers interlaced. Harry’s heart lurched briefly at the intimate gesture. He had been somewhat afraid that Hermione would get up and go to her own bed, but she showed no signs of doing so. He lay back down, and Hermione pulled the covers up once again against the cool night air. “Go back to sleep. We have to pack up tomorrow.”

“Only take an hour, no poin’,” said Harry blurrily as the warmth and comfort of the bed drew him once more towards sleep. “Dgnigh’,” he mumbled.

Hermione smiled and whispered “Goodnight, Harry,” even as she saw him relax into slumber. She flexed her fingers a little, feeling Harry’s larger fingers entwined within her own, and she was not truly surprised when he moved his fingers just a little in response. He was lying on his side, facing her, and it was their left hands that were entwined. Her hand was getting a little cold, and she worked the sheet and duvet that covered them down until she could pull the covers up to her neck, their arms now beneath the covers, but the position wasn’t completely comfortable. Thinking about it for a moment, she contemplated spooning with Harry, and in an impulsive moment decided to do it. Turning her back to him, she pulled his arm over her and snuggled loosely up to him. She breathed in, and out, realxing herself, absorbing the extra warmth through her back. It was almost too warm, but not quite, and she quickly faded out into a contented sleep.

oOoOoOo

Severus Snaped jerked out of sleep in agony as his mark burned like a white-hot brand. As he rolled out of bed and threw on his black robes and cloak, he worried abou the intensity of the call. The Dark Lord is seriously angry at something, he thought, which in turn recalled memories of similar summonings that he had experienced previously.

Moments later he disapparated out of his summer home to find himself in the Dark Lord’s headquarters. Quickly he walked, not scurried, into the next room where Voldemort made his throne room. Bellatrix was already there. He knelt at his master’s feet and kissed the hem of his robes. “My Lord.”

Snape was shocked when the Dark Lord ignored him. “Bellatrix, you have your assignment. Go, teach young Draco the virtues of circumspection since it appears the good Professor here has not been able to.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Bellatrix bowed herself out.

There was a long pause, during which Snape remained bowed on the ground. At length, Voldemort spoke quietly, almost gently. “Severus. For the second time as many days I find myself... disappointed in you.”

Panic gripped Snape’s heart, and for a brief moment he could not speak. After a moment of calming discipline, he knelt back and asked, “My Lord?”

“You were to ensure that Lucius’ son Draco was to be a suitable recruit... yet he is apparently so intemperate that he almost had the rights of the Malfoy family at Gringotts revoked. You would appear to be a total incompetent as a head of house, Severus; how is it that you keep your job?

“And now, the Potter boy. You were to ensure that the boy’s mind was opened up to me through your lessons to the boy, were you not?”

“My Lord, I have most definitely been doing that. Our most recent session was tonight.”

Now Voldemort hissed in fury. “I know that! I have been timing my attacks with your lessons. Yet, tonight, not only can I not penetrate his mind; I can no longer feel his stray thoughts in my head! So, my faithful servant, not only have you failed in your task, you appear to have achieved the exact opposite!”

“But, my Lord, I--”

“Should I believe that your true loyalty lies with the old man after all? Does he tolerate you because your true alleigance is him, not me? Was Draco’s intemperance and uselessness a deliberate ploy?”

“My Lord, how--”

“Silence! You should count yourself fortunate that I can sense your black heart through the mark of fealty that I gave you, Severus, but you will learn the price of failure none the less. CRUCIO!”

“CRUCIO!!”

“CRUCIO!!!”

oOoOoOo

Hot.

The feeling of sweat trickling down his ribs and an unpleasant pressure from his bladder awoke Harry in a hurry. The sun was up, he saw, and his arm was loosely draped around Hermione, who was spooned up to him. What was more, Tonks had his chest in a firm grip, and she was snuggled firmly against him, her breasts pressed into his back and her legs nestled against his.

A tight heaviness in his groin told him he had a truly spectacular morning erection, and he was glad that, for whatever reason, Hermione’s hips were not nestled against him. Well, part of him regretted the fact, but the greater part of him, his conscious mind, was glad that she wasn’t. He didn’t want to scare her off... that primal part of him wanted to sleep with Hermione again.

For now, however, the moist heat beneath the covers was too much and he had to get up, if only to relieve hydraulic pressure. Delicately he lifted his arm off Hermione, only to have her grab his hand once more and pull it against her diaphragm. He pulled more strongly and she let go, and he saw to his regret that he had woken her. She turned towards him, rolling onto her back, and her hips bumped his groin and she stopped as if burned.

“Sorry, gotta go,” Harry got out in a strangled voice. He sat up, dislodging Tonks, and, gathing himself, did a handspring over the still-dozing auror to land on his feet by the side of the bed. Hermione stared at him and blushed before turning away, and he looked down to see himself poking out of his boxers. His face heated and his ears felt as though they would burn up as he quickly spun, tucked himself in, then padded quickly to the bathroom.

Much relieved, and beginning to feel a little cold from the unusually cool morning air, Harry re-emerged from the bathroom to hear giggling from his bed. He blushed once more then set his jaw and returned to his bed, where he saw Tonks and Hermione sitting up, facing each other, their faces wreathed in smiles.

“Sorry, Hermione,” said Harry as he reached the bedside once more. “I didn’t mean to...”

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. “That’s okay, Harry, I know you didn’t...” and then she burst into giggles again, accompanied by Tonks. Harry stood there, hands on hips, waiting for the two to finish.

“Do I want to know?” he asked at last, then grinned as both girls shook their heads. Hermione was looking at him with wide eyes, and he looked down, making sure he hadn’t exposed himself to her once again. Everything appeared to be in place, so he looked up again, somewhat confused, but decided to ignore it for the time being. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I just wanted to thank you both for keeping me company last night. I slept really well, and I appreciate it, even though I guess in the end it wasn’t necessary.” He had spent his time in the toilet rehearsing this little speech, and he looked up to see that both Tonks and Hermione seemed to appreciate it.

“No problem, lover-boy,” said Tonks brightly.

“I liked it too,” said Hermione quietly. “But you’re welcome, Harry.”

Tonks swung herself out of bed. “Come on, you two, it’s almost seven. We’ll get in an hour of exercise then it”ll be showers and breakfast before Remus comes over again.”

“Was he going to come at ten again?” asked Harry.

“We talked about it as he was leaving yesterday. He’ll be here at nine thirty and will be staying for lunch. After lunch we’ll skip potions, since we’re out of a few things, so I’ll be running a few drills with both of you to promote your awareness. We’ll pack tomorrow morning and Moody will come and help us move out at eleven.”

“Oh,” said Harry, a little surprised. “Well, that’s good.”

Tonks nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. Harry took a shirt and a pair of shorts from his drawers and slipped them on, followed by a rugby top to keep himself warm against the surprising – for summer – coolness of the morning air. He then wandered over to the window picture and gazed at the clear, cloudless blue sky. “Going to be a nice day,” he said.

There was no answer except for light footsteps as Hermione hurried to swap places with Tonks in the bathroom.

oOoOoOo

Later, as he prepared breakfast (this morning it was scrambled eggs on toast with bacon, fried tomatoes and spinach), Harry flexed the arm that wasn’t holding a spoon thoughtfully. The exercises that Tonks had them doing put him in mind of the time he had seen gymnastics on the telly. He had thought so for quite a while, really, and as he looked down his arm he was glad to see that his body was beginning to take on some of the shape that he had seen on the guys on the TV. It was when the Olympics were last on, and he had snuck a look at the telly while Dudley and Uncle Vernon were watching. Putting down the wooden spoon he was using to stir the eggs, Harry pressed both hands, spread-fingered, against his abdomen and was gratified to feel that it too was beginning to take some shape, and was rock hard. He didn’t presume that he could be a gymnast, but he had heard overheard snippets of how the girls at Hogwarts had sighed over the male gymnasts. He had never thought he could be like them, but now, with hard training and by concentrating on the goal as he exercised, it appeared he was getting results.

He glanced over at Hermione, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading, and Tonks, who had just stepped out of the bathroom wearing a comfortable-looking dress of some kind, and wondered whether the exercises would give to Hermione some of the muscular fullness of limb and firmness of body that Tonks had.

The ka-chak! of the toaster as it launched the browned slices of bread into the air broke his train of thought, and the glanced over to make sure the toast slices landed properly on the plates. Sure enough, they did, and he scooped up the saucepan with the scrambled eggs and a serving spoon to begin dishing up breakfast.

“Smelling great, lover-boy,” said Tonks as she sat down, on the other side of the table from Hermione but leaving the space opposite her for Harry to sit.

“Mmm, yes,” put in Hermione as she closed and put down her book. Harry slid a plate in front of her and she breathed in deeply. “Yum.” She looked over at Tonks, who was digging in to her own plateful. “The morning exercise is making me hungry.”

Tonks nodded. “It’s meant to. You need some muscle on you, Hermione, if you’re going to keep up with Harry in a fight. Endurance and agility don’t come just by clean living and good thoughts, you know.”

“I know that,” replied Hermoine with some asperity. “It’s just... is that potion you give us after we finish exercising helping the process along? You damage the muscle fibres when you exercise, so if that can be healed more quickly you can get results faster without as much soreness. Besides, Harry must be using something like that. It’s only been a little over four weeks since the end of term, and he’s bulked up enormously, and he’s become very strong. Those upside down presses you have him do, do you know how strong you have to be to do one of those? I’ve only ever seen them done on the telly. I know for certain I can’t; can you?”

Tonks was about to interrupt Hermione but settled back as her speech flowed onwards. Putting down her knife and fork, she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, frowning thoughtfully. “As it happens, no, I can’t, but women and men have different weight distributions, less in the arms and shoulders and more in the hips and legs so that’s to be expected. Also, men add bulk much more easily than women, and Harry’s at just the right age to bulk up quickly since his hormones are going nineteen to the dozen at the moment.” She leaned her head forward, resting her jaw against her chest, looking beneath her brows at Harry. Then she smiled, grinning at Harry reassuringly before turning back to Hermione. “As it happens, Hermione, you’re spot on about the post-exercise potion. It helps prevent soreness and allows you to train harder and more frequently. That, and a few techniques I wasn’t going to teach you yet which let you use magic to temporarily increase your strength and so on are part of the reason why wizarding folk don’t compete in Muggle organised sport.”

“Oh?” The tone of Hermione’s voice said, But what about people like Malfoy?

“Besides, most wizards use magic for everything and aren’t very fit.”

“Except for climbing stairs,” put in Harry ruefully. “I always wondered how Ron stays as thin as he does.” He grinned, and added in a teasing manner, “I wonder if all Gryffindor girls have legs as nice as yours, Hermione? All that exercise, very good for you.”

Hermione stared at him briefly, shocked, then tossed a plum at him. “You’ll have to ask them,” she said haughtily. “You should be careful, though, Harry. If you ask some girls to show you their legs, they might think you’re propositioning them. That’s no way to keep a girlfriend.”

Harry’s eyes closed in brief pain, and he looked away, swallowing, the happy expression he had been wearnig flowing away from his face. “I can’t see that being a problem,” he said in a quiet voice. He looked again at Hermione, then Tonks, then down at the table; his arms he held close to himself, his hands clasping each other in his lap, his shoulders slumped. Hermione and Tonks shared a look, Hermione aghast at Harry’s reaction to what was meant to be a friendly joke and maybe a hint that she herself might fill the role, and Tonks just concerned. Hermione got up and hurried around the end of the table to grab Harry in a hug.

“Harry?” she asked quietly. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad...”

“I just don’t see the point,” he said to the table, stiff within Hermione’s arms. “Cho was a disaster, and I’m much closer to you and Tonks and Luna and even Ginny than I ever was to her, and you’re my friends. Why have a girlfriend? All it got me was hassle and tears and a kiss, and frankly I don’t see what all the fuss is about; it was hardly something that was going to inspire me to go off and do great deeds. Besides, everyone I know is either a friend, or is taken, or doesn’t trust me, or sees me as the-boy-who-bloody-well-didn’t-have-enough-sense-to-lay-down-and-die!”

Tonks and Hermione shared another look before Hermione returned her attention to Harry. She squeezed him within her grip, laying her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t know. I didn’t know what I said would hurt you.”

Harry twisted his head to look Hermione in the eye. “You never hurt me, Hermione. Annoy me sometimes, yes, but not even that lately. I really don’t know what I’d do without a friend like you.” He moved his arms to hug her back, and Hemione sighed as she fitted herself to him more fully. After a few seconds she kissed his neck and pulled back. They disengaged and Hermione reached over the table to pull her plate and cutlery over so she could sit next to Harry.

Tonks broke the somewhat awkward silence. “It’s nearly nine, you two, so let’s finish breakfast and clean up before Lupin comes.”

For a time there was only the sound of cutlery on plates, then Hermione broke the silence. “So, Harry, I suppose you’ve finally mastered Occlumency, then?”

After a moment to chew and swallow, he nodded. “I think so. You know I woke up once in the middle of the night, and that might have been when Voldemort was trying to send something to me. Or it could have been something else, though nothing excited the wards as far as I could see.”

“How did you end up getting it to work for you?” asked Tonks curiously.

Harry shrugged. “I just did a relaxation sequence, visualised a barrier to thoughts around my head, and initiated it using the keyword Occlumens.”

“Initiated? Keyword?” asked Tonks, flabbergasted.

Hermione snickered. “Harry’s been reading his magical theory books,” she said approvingly. He nodded, and grinned as he ate a forkful of toast and egg. “So that’s it, then?” she continued to Harry.

He shook his head. “I’m sure I couldn’t have done it without most of what I’ve gone through so far. If that makes any sense.”

“I suppose,” said Hermione, somewhat disappointed. Then she cheered up. “Harry, have you read about conditioning magic yet?”

Once again he shook his head, chewing. “No,” he added once he had swallowed.

“Well, it doesn’t matter for now, but let’s discuss Occlumency again once you’ve covered it. It’s a part of spell invention.”

“Ah. I haven’t read anything on that yet. I’ve been trying to concentrate on the stuff Dumbledore said I’d need to learn my mage sight.” He sighed. “Another thing that makes me different.” Hermione huffed in exasperation.

“Harry, I’m different. I’m a muggleborn and intelligent, and I top the school academically. Tonks is different – how many metamorphmagi are there? Does she try and hide her talent? No! She revels in it! So why can’t you enjoy being different? What’s so wrong with being a parselmouth, with perhaps being a mage? You’re lucky! Most people who are normal want nothing more than to stand out. Look at Ron! Why do you think he gets jealous? For God’s sake stop moaning about being different and start enjoying it, and maybe people will start to enjoy it with you.”

“I, I don’t understand.”

“You need to open up! You need to start to enjoy yourself! People act towards you as you do towards yourself! If you act like you’re of no value, people will eventually agree with you. If you act like you’re worthy of people’s hatred, they will wonder why and will learn to hate you, just like you want! So stand up, and enjoy yourself! Enjoy the fact that you’re different! Enjoy the fact that you can do magic that others can’t even contemplate! Take pleasure in it! Don’t lord it over people like some others do, but take enjoyment from the fact that you can do things that people can’t! Stand up for yourself and don’t let others get you down, and act like you feel you’re worth something! Enjoy your self! And then, maybe, people will start to look at you and not at the scurrilous libel that passes for news in the Daily bloody Prophet!” She took a deep breath and continued, more gently, “I see how depressed you get when you regret not being normal, and it just makes me so sad. So please, take pride in yourself.”

Harry stared at Hermione, open-mouthed. For a long moment the two teens stared at each other. He wanted very much to take her in his arms and hug her, soothe away the unspoken For me that had accompanied her final plea.

The sound of two hands clapping jerked Harry out of his fugue, his wand falling into his hand. As he turned to face the training area he brought up his wand in a slashing arc and muttered, “ImpedimentiaProtego!” with all the urgency and power that his leaping heart could muster.

There was no second clap. There, perched on brooms about ten feet away, were Moody and Remus Lupin. Lupin was captured in the moment of clapping, his hands about six inches apart, whereas Moody, equally still, was grinning viciously. Quickly Harry cast a detection spell which flooded the training area with a red mist, then let out a deep sigh when it showed nothing new. Somewhat peeved at both Moody and himself, he allowed his shield to dissolve and conjured up shackles and chains that joined Moody’s wrists, ankles, and neck, and summoned the old auror’s wand before releasing the Impedimentia.

Moody promptly continued his previous movement, was caught short when he found he was shackled and chained, and fell off his broom to the floor a few feet below. Lupin finished his second clap, then turned to look in amazement as Moody fell helplessly to the floor.

“Ha, ha, very funny, Moody,” said Harry with a slight smile playing about his lips. “I’ll let you go if you tell me how you did it.” Moody just grinned at him and, after wandlessly summoning a spare wand from his clothing, vanished the chains and shackles.

“Impressive, Potter,” he said. “I think I’ll let you try and figure that one out for yourself. I’m sure it won’t take you long.” He finished with a cackle, then waved to Tonks to accompany him to the other end of the attic.

“Hello, Harry,” said Remus belatedly. “And to you, Hermione. May I say how much I enjoyed your oration. I agree, of course, with everything you said. I only wish I could do the same... but even though I turn into a vicious beast once a month, I at least don’t let it get me down, and don’t dwell upon it.” With a glance at Hermione, he added, “Nor do I have such wonderful support.”

“Er... right,” said Harry, completely unsure how to respond to either Hermione or Remus. His old teacher noticed this, and cleared his throat.

“Right, then. Let’s make a start, shall we, Harry?”

“I was about to make some tea,” put in Hermione. “Why don’t you and Professor Lupin set up in the library, Harry, and I’ll bring some over to you?”

“I’ve already asked you to call me Remus, Hermione.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” said Harry gratefully, and he led Remus Lupin over to the table in the library.

oOoOoOo

By ten thirty the following morning, all the books, their clothes and effects were shrunk and packed into Harry’s trunk and the furniture and other items that Harry had conjured had been vanished. Now, as a final step, he vanished the lining of the walls and ceiling, the walls surrounding the bathroom, and the floor coverings; he then undid the enchantment which expanded the volume of the space. He watched in satisfaction as the walls gradually went to nothing and the tiled roof with its rough beams came down to meet him, stopping just over their heads.

At last, the attic was as it was when he first returned to the Dursleys this summer. The heat began, as the sun-warmed tiles began to radiate into the small space. The bathroom had reverted to its previous state, and Harry’s thin paliasse lay on the plywood floor by the now-prominent casing for the extending staircase which would allow them access to the house below.

Tonks looked around once more, nodding. “Okay, Harry, I think that’s good. It’s time to take down the wards, so I think you’d better put away your wand. You too, Hermione.” Hermione simply drew up the tail of her blouse to show her wand tucked into the waistband of the skirt she had chosen to wear today. Harry caught her glance his way. She seemed to be checking his reaction, so he nodded and smiled at her. Hermione looked away again, looking around the space. She dragged her foot over the flooring, which was somehow gritty once more. Tonks watched her and eventually stepped astride her broom. “Harry, if you want to shrink your trunk I’ll take down the anti-detection wards.”

“Okay. Reducio.” Leaning over, Harry picked up the trunk and slipped it into his pocket. “You know, I always wondered how it is that we can shrink a trunk full of things that’ve already been shrunk and things don’t blow up,” he said casually.

“Oh, that’s because the Reducio charm actually generates a local distortion in space-time, a fractal dimension,” put in Hermione easily. “It’s acttually the same process as the room expansion charm, and the engorgement charm. The fractal dimension number is related to the degree of squeeze or expansion. The dimensions will only merge if the degree of shrinkage or expansion of nested objects is exactly the same, the likelihood of which is vanishingly small. Of course, the explosion is said to be spectacular if it does happen.”

Harry stared at Hermione for a long moment, then smiled and shook his head. “I’ll have to get you to show me that book some time, ‘Mione,” he said. “I think I understand what you meant, although I have no idea what a fractal dimension is.”

Hermione looked embarrassed. “Actually, I don’t, either, not really. It’s not explained in the book that way, and I read about fractal dimensions in dad’s New Scientist and I wondered if that was the concept the book was trying to get across. They had a very long-winded and detailed explanation that basically boiled down to, ‘It’s safe to shrink shrunken objects as long as the shrinkage factors are at least slightly different, but if they’re exactly the same then watch out.’”

“Why didn’t you say that the first time?”

“Well, you’ve been getting into all this theory lately, I thought you’d be interested.”

“Well, I suppose I would be if I knew what a fractal dimension was, and whether you’re right about them or not.”

Tonks sighed loudly and pushed gently off the floor. Hermione let the discussion with Harry drop and watched with interest as Tonks removed first the keystone, the pyramid right above their heads, and once that was removed she dropped the wooden corner pieces into a small sack one by one.

“Now, you two, don’t forget that you can’t do magic again until I get this set up again at the Grangers’ place.”

“Yes, Tonks,” they chorused.

Landing, Tonks shrunk her broom and put it in the sack she held. “All right, it’s time to go.” With that, she pointed her wand at the attic latter and muttered under her breath, and with a loud clack! and a metallic creaking noise, the hatchway unlocked and the ladder lowered and extended itself. Up through the now-open accessway, the sound of Tom Jones crooning one of his love songs floated up.

At Tonks’ gesture, Harry descended the stairway first. He was struck by the smell of the place; it was as if he had been away for the school year. It was nothing unusual, just the normal smell of the Dursleys and their house, but the attic had smelled different, at first more of baked wood and tile and kind of outdoorsy, and later he supposed the three of them had grown used to their own smell in the attic, cooking their own meals and whatnot. But to suddenly run into the familiar smells of disinfectant, beef stew, and the usual post-breakfast eggy-bacon-toasty smell of the house was something of a surprise.

Breathing deeply, Harry continued down until he stood in the upstairs hallway. He looked around while he waited for the other two, and saw that Dudley had fully reclaimed his second bedroom. Curious, he stepped inside and saw that his old bed was no longer there; instead the room was dominated by a home computer with a racks of several somethings that Harry assumed contained data for the computer surrounding the large computer screen. The room smelled, rather, kind of like stale and sweaty Dudley; Harry took a look at the computer chair and saw that it was sweat-stained and there was a large stain of some kind at the centre of the front of the seat. It almost looked like... “Eww.” Stomach turning at the mental image of Dudley sitting shirtless in the chair, hunched down with his fist working in his lap, Harry turned away and hurriedly returned to the stairs just in time to watch Hermione and then Tonks descend.

It was the middle of the day, and it was a weekday. Harry did not expect anyone except Aunt Petunia to be home; Dudley would be out with his gang and Uncle Vernon would be at work. The sound of a vacuum cleaner starting downstairs told him that Aunt Petunia was indeed home, and the lack of any music coming from Dudley’s room likewise told him that his cousin was out as expected, so Harry led the way downstairs. Just as he reached the bottom, the vacuum cleaner switched off and Aunt Petunia came out of the lounge room and practically ran into him. She stopped with a start and a little shriek, her hand going to her chest. Harry thought she looked as though she might have heart failure; she was staring at him and panting in shock.

“Are you all right, Aunt Petunia?” he asked, somewhat concerned. She nodded, swallowed, and stood upright.

“What are you doing down here, boy?” Her tone was a little unsteady, but that was to be expected. She had just received a major fright. Then a creak from the staircase drew her eye, and she jerked again in surprise to see Hermione and Tonks on the staircase. Turning back to Harry with fire in her eyes once more, she continued, “And where did these two come from!?”

“This is my friend Hermione Granger. Hermione, I don’t believe you’ve met my Aunt Petunia.”

“You’d better not have been getting up to any funny business up there, boy.”

Harry grinned mirthlessly. Summoning the discipline that he had learned dealing with the Dursleys for fifteen years and keeping a tight hold on his temper, he continued, “And this is Auror Tonks. An Auror is a kind of wizarding policeman.. or woman, in Tonks’ case.”

Aunt Petunia paled. “Police?”

Tonks nodded, and moved forward with a stern expression on her face. “It’s just as well for you that Harry has the sense to call for help when he needs it,” she said disapprovingly. “You should thank him that you have not been arrested for improper imprisonment, neglect of a minor in your care, and failure to provide proper shelter to a minor in your care.”

“Tonks, please don’t. I have to come back here next year; please don’t make it any worse than it is.”

“You’re leaving, then?” asked Aunt Petunia.

Harry nodded. “Yes.” He sighed. “I rather imagine I’ll be back again next July, though. We can wish that Voldemort will be vanquished before then, but somehow I don’t think that’s going to happen,” he finished resignedly. He noticed the odd looks he was getting from both Hermione and Tonks, and immediately felt defensive. “Well, whomever up there is organising my life seems to be having a bloody fantastic time; there’s no way I could be allowed to have a normal school year!”

Hermione stared at him. Shaking her head, she smiled at Harry’s outburst. “Even if we were to say that, oh, let’s just say the Old Gods are actively moving in your life, Harry, which personally I don’t believe, I really don’t think you’d like a normal year. You’d get bored, and probably end up going around generating excitement just for something to do.”

Tonks snickered at Hermione’s rejoinder, while Harry blushed. “I think a bit of quiet would be nice,” he said weakly, but smiled as Hermione joined Tonks in laughter. After a moment the laughter died down, and Aunt Petunia nodded slightly.

“Well, have a good year then,” she said a little hesitantly.

“Thank you, Aunt Petunia,” replied Harry automatically. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” added Hermione, and the three of them walked out the door. Harry couldn’t help but look back at the house as they turned at the front gate to walk down Privet drive, and he was not really surprised to see the Aunt Petunia looking out the loungeroom window at them. He wasn’t at all certain she was happy to see them go. She had seemed a little... wistful? With a sigh, he made a mental note to think about it a little later, when he had a chance.

The day was still and warm, with the sun blazing down out of a pellucid sky. The feel of it on his skin made Harry stretch out his arms and turn up his head, beaming beatifically to the benificent sun as the three of them walked along the footpath. He could feel the warmth and the power of the sun seeping into himself, seeming to flood him with life and energy. The feel of the open spaces around him also lifted his spirits; no longer was his world circumscribed by four walls, no matter how spacious and no matter how good the company. He felt like he wanted to skip and spin and laugh out loud for the sheer joy of it.

“So, how do we get to my place?” asked Hermione. “Has something been planned, or do we have to make our own way there?”

“Oh no, we’re going to take a portkey once we get to a nice quiet spot in that nearby park.”

That sounded wonderful to Harry, except for the minor detail of taking a portkey which he didn’t really mind that much... and another minor problem with Tonks’ grand plan. He lowered his arms and straightened his head.

“Erm, Tonks, I think... I think there might be a small problem with your plan.”

Tonks stopped and turned to look at Harry in surprise. “What’s that?”

“Well, you see, that park’s got a playground, and, err, it’s a lovely day, and, well, it’ll probably be croweded with mums and their children.”

“Really? The whole park?”

“It’s not a very big park.”

It turned out that Harry was right. The small park was being well used by the mothers of the neighborhood with their children too young to go to school, enjoying the lovely sunshine of the day... and the nearest large park was some distance away. In the end, they huddled in the alleyway in which Harry had encountered the dementors a year before. Tonks brought out a portkey – a small, crumpled tin which had stored corn kernels in its previous life – and moments later they landed in the entry hall of the Granger home.

10. At Home With the Grangers

The Time of Change

by Olafr (olafrt@gmail.com)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13

Last updated: 13 November, 2005. (V2. Thanks to Mark Hunter for feedback on the initial draft.)

Author’s Notes: Introducing the Grangers. (The title for this chapter alludes to a recent British drama/comedy, At Home With the Brathwaites. But the Grangers are nothing like the Braithwaites. Really.)

10. At Home With the Grangers

It turned out that Harry was right. The small park was being well used by the mothers of the neighborhood with their children too young to go to school, enjoying the lovely sunshine of the day... and the nearest large park was some distance away. In the end, they huddled in the alleyway in which Harry had encountered the dementors a year before. Tonks brought out a portkey – a small, crumpled tin which had stored corn kernels in its previous life – and moments later they landed in the entry hall of the Granger home.

oOoOoOo

“Hermione, is that you?” The woman’s voice emanating from the doorway which led deeper into the house was loud and somewhat strident. It was the voice of a confident person, with the projected tone of someone who has undergone formal voice training. Footsteps sounded, the sharp, echoing tok-tok-tok of wooden heel and shoe-leather on polished floorboards.

“Yes, Mum, it’s me,” called out Hermione. Harry was surprised to see that her voice now also had a more rounded tone. “Harry and Auror Tonks are with me.”

The footsteps came closer, and then, in a flurry of blazing red track-suit pants and black pola-fleece vest worn over a lavender blouse, Emma Granger erupted into the room.

“Oh, hello, honey, it’s good to see you home,” she said as she engulfed Hermione in a hug which was returned with equal vigor. After a long moment, the two stepped back, and Mrs Granger turned to face Harry, a large smile on her face. “And you must be Harry. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Hermione; I’ve wanted to meet you properly for quite a while now.”

“Thank you for allowing me – er, us – to stay with you,” said Harry awkwardly. He shook her offered hand, which was cool and dry.

“You’re welcome, Harry. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” With that, Mrs Granger turned to face Tonks.

“This is Nymphadora Tonks, Harry’s bodyguard and trainer,” put in Hermione quickly but smoothly. Mrs Granger nodded and offered her hand to shake.

“Welcome, Nymphadora,” she said warmly.

“Please call me Tonks,” replied the pink-haired Auror as the two briefly shook hands.

“Well, won’t you all come through? I’ll make a cup of tea and we can discuss living accomodations,” said Mrs Granger as she turned to lead the way through the house. “I believe that Mr Moody said you’d be using magic to do something about that?”

The hallway opened out into an enormous, sunny back room that combined a kitchen, dining, and living area. Large, rough brownish tiles on the floor and almost-white walls allowed the eye to pass through the wall of quartered sash windows to the lush garden of the back yard. A clerestory penetrated the middle of the ceiling and allowed light to shine on the rear wall of the room, which was covered in framed photographs, some old, some new; on the wall opposite the kitchen was a large fireplace bracketed by rather comfortable-looking bookshelves. The books therein looked at a glance as though they were used, rather than simply stored; some had worn spines and in many places the arrangement was somewhat haphazard, and to one side of the fireplace a television sat, this week’s TV guide on top, drooping down in front of the screen. Large overstuffed couches and armchairs faced the fireplace and shelves, and between the kitchen and lounge area, a large eight-seat dining table currently bore a table runner, some globular glass tea candle holders, and a large arrangement of flowers that appeared to have been taken from the spectacular garden.

It was, quite simply, the most comfortable room that Harry had ever been in.

“Would everyone like tea, then? Or would anyone like coffee instead?” asked Mrs Granger over the sound of the tap as she filled the kettle.

“Tea, please, mum,” said Hermione as she made a beeline for the lounge area. “Come on, Harry.”

“How about you, Harry? Tea or coffee?”

“Tea for me, please,” he said.

“Me too,” said Tonks, who moved over to stand between the dining table and the large, flat kitchen bench near where Mrs Granger had disappeared into a walk-in pantry.

Harry smiled at Hermione who flung herself into one end of a well-worn dark brown three-seat Chesterfield and patted the cushion next to her. He sat as directed, leaving room next to him for Tonks. He looked around, taking in the titles of the books and some of the photographs, twisting to see the ones on the wall behind him.

“What do you think?” asked Hermione after a minute. Tonks and her mother had struck up a conversation over the heating kettle, and she was free to concentrate on Harry. She felt wonderful and happy, and she drank in Harry’s face as his eyes darted here and there, an expression of amazed joy on his face.

“This is super!” he exclaimed softly, his attention returning to her. “I love your place, Hermione.”

She nodded. Looking out at the garden, she said, “I think it’s pretty neat, too. I guess I’ve become used to it, but it is nice.”

“It’s lovely. Is your room like this?”

She shook her head. “It’s blue, and really, it’s still mostly decorated like an eleven-year-old lives there. I haven’t had much of a chance to ask mum and dad to redecorate it. I only live there for two months a year, after all.” She smiled to herself briefly. “Mum bought me a bigger bed a year ago, though.” At his surprised glance, she added, “A full-sized single bed, you git.” She slapped his forearm indignantly, but a grin took the sting out of her words.

Tonks and Mrs Granger joined them then, each carrying two steaming mugs. Tonks gave her spare to Harry, while Mrs Granger gave hers to Hermione. Mrs Granger sat in a large, pale armchair, while Tonks sat in a loveseat upholstered in deep, Turkish red which was almost buried in a sea of brightly-coloured cushions. After a ritual sip of the tea, Mrs Granger placed her mug on a coaster on the coffee table that sat between the seats and sat back, looking over at Harry and Hermione.

“Now, Dora, you told me that you hope to set up in our attic and expand the space in there to make a training room, library, and sleeping space?”

Tonks nodded while Harry smiled bemused at her acceptance of even part of her first name. His own use of ‘Nymph’ was at least partly teasing.

“Why is that? Surely you’d need separate rooms for privacy?” continued Mrs Granger.

Tonks’ gaze flicked to Harry. “I’m sorry if this embarrasses you, Harry, but...” She turned to face Mrs Granger, and continued, “When I set up the attic expansion at Privet Drive, it was mostly because Harry’s relatives had locked him in the attic and wouldn’t notice. I didn’t create separate bedrooms because he has terrible nightmares, sometimes on his own and sometimes fed to him via his link with Voldemort.” At Mrs Granger’s look of surprise, Tonks clarified, “We found out this year that there was a mental link of some kind made when Voldemort’s killing curse bounced off Harry here, when he was a baby. As a result, Harry can see through Voldemort’s eyes sometimes, although we’re almost certain Voldemort can’t do the same. But he can send visions to Harry, usually in his dreams.”

“They hurt Harry dreadfully,” said Hermione quietly, placing her hand on Harry’s arm to keep him quiet and to offer comfort. “Sometimes his scar even splits open and bleeds.”

“So as you can see,” said Tonks, “I needed a way of getting to Harry quickly. Open-plan living arrangements with a separate bathroom and toilet seemed like the best idea. When Hermione came, we added her bed on the other side of the library area to give her privacy, and nobody had any problems.”

“Harry’s been doing training to help him control the link with Voldemort,” said Hermione. “Usually afterwards his mental shields are at their weakest, like a muscle that’s been exercised, and it was nice to be able to hold him and help comfort him when he woke up screaming in pain one night.”

Mrs Granger raised an eyebrow at Hermione’s pronouncement, whereupon Hermione blushed slightly. Harry’s gaze was on his knees, and he too seemed to be blushing. Hermione could feel him trembling, and it came to her that he was in fact mortified with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Harry, we don’t mean to embarrass you,” she murmured to him. “But mum needs to know.”

“Why?” he muttered rebelliously.

“Because I’d been hoping to keep doing what we’ve been doing, and I need her permission for that.”

Harry raised his head to look Hermione in the face, and she was shocked to see the look of a trapped animal in his eyes before he blinked and smiled weakly at her. “I suppose. I’m just being stupid, really.”

“What are you trying to get my permission for, Hermione?” put in Mrs Granger.

“I want to keep the organisation we had at Harry's place – with library, training area, and sleeping area all in one large room with privacy dividers.”

Mrs Granger didn’t answer, but took a sip of her tea as she thought. “I’ll think about it,” she said at last. Her lips pursed as her eyes flicked between Harry and Hermione. The action made him aware that he could feel the warmth of Hermione’s arm where she sat very close to him on the couch.

Tonks picked up on the vibes and slurped the last of her tea noisily. “Ah, that was wonderful. Now, Harry, I think it’s time to set up this room. You can practice your conjuring again once I get the anti-detection wards set up.”

“Can I help too?” asked Hermione eagerly.

Tonks looked to Mrs Granger, who smiled and said, “I don’t see why not, provided you’re properly supervised. But I’d like to speak with you about something first, Hermione. Dora, why don’t you take Harry and make a start?”

“Okay. Come on Harry.”

Hermione got up and moved to help her mother with the mugs and the much-reduced plate of biscuits, taking them to the kitchen. As she moved to gather up a tea towel, preparing to dry the dishes that her mother would soon wash, Emma paused and turned to her daughter. “Hermione, is Harry your boyfriend?”

Confronted by a direct question, Hermione did not think of lying. She blushed a little and shook her head. “No.”

“But you’d like him to be?” She put the plug in the sink and ran the water to fill it. A gentle smile formed as she said this, and her voice was caring.

“Yes.”

Adding diswashing detergent, Emma waited for a moment while the sink filled but Hermione added nothing. “But?” she asked as she turned off the tap and started placing mugs in the water. She started washing the cups as she waited for her daughter to reply.

“But I’m almost sure he doesn’t understand!” replied Hermione eventually.

“Understand what?”

“Anything at all!”

oOoOoOo

“Now, Harry, we’re going to do something a little different this time. We’re going to expand the attic like last time, but we’re going to also extend the staircase.”

“We? But I can’t do magic at the moment or the Ministry will detect it.”

Tonks nodded. “Right you are, loverboy,” she said with a smirk at the way Harry rolled his eyes at the appelation. “But we’re going to try something. Not everyone can do this, but if you can do a Patronus, this’ll be a piece of cake for you. I could cast all the needed spells myself, but you’re quite a bit stronger than me, Harry, so if you lend me some power I can do the whole lot in half the time, and without completely shagging myself.”

“Lend you some power? I’m... stronger than you?” Harry’s amusement at her teasing had given way to incredulity. Him? Stronger than a qualified Auror?

“Sure you are,” said Tonks without a trace of resentment. “I... Look, Harry, let’s get this done and then we’ll sit down and talk, okay? I think it’s time you knew a few things.”

Harry’s mood darkened and he frowned. “You haven’t been doing a Dumbledore have you, Tonks? Keeping stuff from me for my own good?”

She shook her head. “No, yes, not really... Yes, but it was stuff you would have known anyway if you’d only been a little more observant anyway!” she added hurriedly as his frown turned into a glower. “And I’m going to tell you now, okay?” She stepped up to him and drew him into an embrace. “Please don’t think badly of me, Harry. I would never mislead you, I love you quite a lot, you’re the little brother I always wished I’d had.” Harry’s stiff body relaxed in her arms at last, and she kissed his forehead. He smiled at her in a tentative way as she let him go.

“I’m your little brother?”

“Well, yes, sort of. I mean, I you’re closer to me than a real brother would be, but you’re not really what I want in a boyfriend or husband so I don’t love you that way. You’re important to me and I feel very close to you.”

“Oh.” She looked at him and he thought she looked a little vulnerable, so he drew her into an embrace. “Well, I guess I feel the same way, Nymph. I never really thought about it; you were just there, but now that you spell it out I feel just the same way about you.” He tightened the hug briefly and she lay her head against his shoulder. They stood there for a long moment before Tonks pulled away.

“Well, then, loverboy, let’s get to it shall we?” she said, slapping him gently on the chest as she stepped out of his arms. “Then we’ll find Hermione, do the furniture, and all sit down for a bit of a chat, huh?”

“Okay.”

“All right then, where were we? Ah, yes, power sharing. Harry, I want you to find your magic and visualise feeding me a little bit. Only a tiny bit, mind you, at least until we know how much I can take.”

Nodding, Harry closed his eyes and slipped into the light trance he used to find his magic. Once he had finally mastered occlumency – which was nothing more or less than an adamantine shield he visualised surrounding his head that he had first established that night after Snape’s taunting – Tonks had urged him to try to use the meditative techniques to find his so-called magical core. It had taken him only one session to do so, with almost catastrophic results. When he had found it, it had come to him as a glowing ellipsoid of energy sitting in his abdomen, its base resting between his hips. Then, when he had reached out and touched it, it had filled him with a sense of boundless, writhing energy, squirming and trying desperately to find a way out of his mental grasp. He had been able to maintain control, but only just, and the experience had left him weak and rather cautious. Since that initial experiment, he had confined himself to simply increasing the speed of his visualisation, Tonks saying that they would work on different ways of him gaining direct control over his core once they were settled at the Grangers.

Now, though, Tonks was asking him to do something different. It didn’t sound hard, so he opened himself to his magic and opened his eyes. Tonks herself still stood in front of him, smiling encouragingly, so he very carefully imagined feeding energy to her. He thought of a hose between them, and one appeared to his sight, a translucent cylinder about the size of a garden hose that joined them at their belly buttons. As he watched, Tonks appeared to glow briefly, then settled down, breathing a little more quickly than usual.

“Try that,” he said as he concentrated on maintaining the connection, maintaining a nice low pressure in the “hose”.

Tonks felt... wonderful. She had known the moment Harry had succeeded, as there had been an almost orgasmic rush as Harry started feeding power to her. It was almost more than she could take, and she feared that despite her cautions that she might be quickly overwhelmed, but she soon realised that somehow he had managed it so that the magic was simply present, and was not trying to force its way into her being. She smiled a brilliant smile at the somewhat distracted youth, and turned to her work.

The rush as she cast the spells that created a new opening into the attic space above the stairs and extended the staircase was like nothing she had ever felt. Magic positively leaped to do her bidding, and for the first time she could feel the reaction in her hand and wand as she channeled power into the spells. She walked up the newly-created stairs, carefully at first then confidently as it became obvious that the construct was quite solid. Quickly looking around the attic space to judge the proper layout of the wards, she saw that the Granger home had the same general outline and roof arrangement as the Dursleys – a simple gable roof – and the same arrangement of wards could be used. Drawing her shrunken broom from the bag containing the ward blocks, she quickly expanded it and placed the six blocks as before. Then, with a smile at how easily this was going, and with an utter confidence she had never felt before in her magic due to the backup from Harry, she went ahead and cast the room expansion spell.

“Oh, bugger.”

oOoOoOo

“What do you mean, ‘anything at all,’ Hermione?”

Hermione flushed bright red, but she pushed through the embarrassment and said, “I don’t think he understands what a girlfriend is. Or what a relationship is. Or what love is, for that matter.”

“How can anyone not understand that? I mean, telly, and books, and newspapers, and... What’s wrong, Hermione?”

“You don’t know how Harry’s been brought up, mum. His aunt and uncle are abusive, even if they don’t actually beat him. But they never let him watch the telly, force him to work like a slave, they made him sleep in a broom cupboard. The summer of ‘92, they kept him locked in his room with bars on the window and fed him through a cat flap. Like a prison cell.” She wiped her eyes, determined not to cry. “He used to tense up when I touched him or hugged him, mum, like he thought, like he thought I was going to hit him. He always wears these horrible rags, but his relatives are quite comfortably off, and he’s always so thin at the start of term. It’s like they don’t feed him.”

“Are you sure, Hermione? Harry certainly doesn’t look under-fed. Are you sure you weren’t being fooled by his clothes? And are you sure they weren’t just a fashion statement?”

Hermione just shook her head sadly. “This year has been an exception, mum, and even this year started with Harry locked in an unsealed attic with no furniture and only cold water to wash with. I saw it when Tonks took the charms off earlier today. It was filthy and dark, and it heated up really quickly even though it’s not all that hot today.”

Emma nodded, her expression even. “And what about you, honey? Even if Harry doesn’t understand about love and relationships, you certainly do. Should I allow you to continue to share the training room with Harry and Dora?”

“Mum!”

The older woman looked Hermione in the eyes, and she gradually broke into a broad smile. “Yes, I think I can trust you. You’re going to spend all your time with them anyway... and of course, if I can trust you for ten months of the year, of course I can trust you for the other two. Besides,” she added a little wistfully, “I can understand you not really wanting to sleep in a little girl’s room any more.” She sighed. “Well, you’ll be seventeen in three months. I think you can make your own decisions about where you sleep and with whom you sleep. Just remember that if you want to talk about anything, dear, even if it’s sex or things like that, you can come to me. And you might not want to get too used to male company – you do still have another two years at Hogwarts, after all.”

Solemnly, Hermione nodded, before getting up and pulling her mother into an embrace. “I love you, mum. Thank you.”

“I love you too, hon.” The hug soon broke, and Emma nodded in the direction of the stairs. “Why don’t you go and see what they’re up to? I’ll just tidy these away and then I’ve got to go into the surgery.”

oOoOoOo

Harry dashed up the stairs, worried that something had gone wrong. “What’s wrong, Ton...? Oh, wow.” The attic had been expanded to the same shape as before, but to an enormous degree. The room was easily large enough to hold a cricket ground – including the stands! It was also quite high, and Harry could easily see himself practising his flying in a space like this. “Why’d you make it so big, Nymph?” he asked enthusiastically. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

Tonks saw Harry grinning wildly at the thought of this enormous space and contemplataed leaving it as it was. The larger space would cause problems as far as organisation of the beds and so forth was concerned, but.... “Well, we’ll leave it be if you want it that way, loverboy, but you’ll be responsible for doing the decoration, then.”

“Decoration?” This enormous room was far bigger even than a cathedral; it was like a piece of outdoors. Outdoors. Hmm. “Yeah, decoration. Great idea.” He turned as Hermione thudded up the steps behind them, coming to a halt with a gasp. “Hi, ‘Mione. Do you like the room? All Tonks’ work!”

“Why did you make it so big? I didn’t even know it could be done so large! This is amazing!” Their voices echoed back softly after several seconds in a kind of rarefied hush.

“I didn’t mean to make it this big,” said Tonks with a small frown. Then she broke out into a big grin and looked around, head craned back to take in the ceiling. “But it sure is amazing, isn’t it?”

“How did you make a mistake?” asked Hermione, honestly curious. “We were taught to visualise the difference in size, and I read in The Magic of Space by Venn that it’s best if you try and put an actual number on the expansion or shrinking factor.”

“Yeah, well, I always just learned how hard to push to get the result I needed,” said Tonks, rather nonplussed. “Thing is, loverboy here was feeding me a little extra power.”

“Feeding you power?”

“Yeah.” Her gazed moved to Harry, and she added, “Look, I was going to leave it the way it is but I think this is just a bit too big to be practical without setting up other walls and so on, and we’re trying to avoid that. So let’s redo the expansion charm and furnish this place, and I’ll tell you all about it. Harry, I want you to do something for me, and I promise I’ll explain this evening. I want you to maintain the link to me, feed power to Hermione, and do the furniture. We’ll do the unpacking, decoration, and stuff like the pots and so on. Okay?”

“I don’t need extra power,” said Hermione, confused.

“It gives Harry a chance to practice. We’ll discuss the reasons why this evening, okay, Hermione?”

Hermione looked Harry briefly in the eye, then smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

Harry returned her smile then calmed himself and closed his eyes to set up the power link to Hermione. It took only a moment – he simply duplicated what he had done for Tonks – and a brief “Oh!” let him know he had succeeded. Grinning, he opened his eyes to see Hermione staring at him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tonks collapse the rather excessive expansion and then redo it, this time much more slowly so that she could cut it off when it reached the correct size.

“What first?” he asked.

“Library shelves, please,” said Hermione before Tonks could say anything. “Then the bed suites, then the tables and chairs.”

“Good,” said Tonks. “I’ll do the bathroom and plumbing. Can you handle the decoration, Hermione, and start the putting away?”

Hermione grinned widely, like a kid in a candy shop. “Oh, yes please!” Harry almost expected her to jump up and down, hands clasped under her chin, but he saw that she controlled herself. “I’ve always wanted to try something like the ceiling in the Great Hall.”

Tonks looked at Hermione but said nothing. Harry turned, guesstimated where to establish the first shelf, and began.

oOoOoOo

It was some time after dinner, and Harry, Hermione, and Tonks were sitting in the lounge area. Tonks had created a large fieldstone fireplace and chimney, and true to her word, Hermione had cast a charm on the room that made it appear as though the tops of the walls and the ceiling were transparent. A fire was blazing against the cool of the evening, and above their heads stars spread themselves across the inky sky in glorious display. Harry knew that the sky outside was in fact rather washed out, so he assumed the spell actually presented the sky as though there were no aircraft or light pollution. Whatever the cause, it was stunningly beautiful.

The three of them were seated on a large, soft, circular cushion about the size of a double bed that faced the fire. Tonks had conjured it when she realised that she did not want to set separately from Harry in an armchair, but she also didn’t want to isolate Hermione by having her sit on the other side of Harry. So now the three of them sat fairly closely, facing each other, with Hermione perhaps closer to Harry than Tonks.

They had been building to this discussion all evening. The fitting and furnishing of the reborn attic had gone well, and with Hermione helping, the three of them had finished the entire job by the time the Drs. Granger had returned home. By then Harry had re-established the wards, so Harry had known Hermione’s parents were coming even through the silencing charms and they were welcomed at the top of the staircase. Hermione in particular had reveled in this chance to show off her skills, as she had never before been able to show her parents her skill in magic. Mrs Granger had seen that her daughter had privacy and unfettered access to a small but high-level library. She had smiled to herself at this reminder of her daughter’s quirks.

Dinner – Indian take-away, eaten downstairs in the dining room – had been late.

Now, the three were back up in their open-skied domain and it was time to talk. Tonks leaned forward.

“Harry, let me start by apologising to you. I’ve been hiding something from you, and I suppose you could say that by doing so I’ve been not so much manipulating you, but allowing you to develop unfettered by normal constraints.”

Harry had initally frowned, but by the end of Tonks’ opening statement was staring at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Hermione laid a hand on Harry’s arm. “Perhaps if you explain, Tonks. When you’re finished, I can come clean too.”

“What?” Harry’s surprise was total – Hermione had played a role?

“Whoa there Harry, don’t jump to conclusions,” said Tonks. “Just listen to me, to us, and then you can decide how you feel.”

“Yeah,” added Hermione with a nervous smile. “You don’t want to do a Ron, do you?”

Grimacing, Harry nodded and reached to Hermione’s arm to return her comforting touch. “Okay.” Turning to Tonks, he said, “What’s going on?”

She swallowed before plunging ahead. “Harry, the thing we’ve been keeping from you is just how special you are. We’ve been keeping limits from you so you don’t prevent yourself from doing something by telling yourself you can’t do it, simply because the books say it can’t be done.

“I was all for it, initially. It started when we realised the stuff you conjured wasn’t disappearing like it usually would. It seems you have a knack, Harry. Things you conjure tend to be permanent unless you vanish them. People like you are called Makers.

“As a result of that, the Headmaster asked us not to tell you the ordinary limits of things, to see if you could go beyond them. And since then we’ve found a couple of other ways in which you’re special, too.

“You understand, don’t you, Harry? There’s nothing at all wrong with being special. I’m special, and I revel in it. If you can do that too, and if you can learn that just because a book says you can’t do something that you might be able to anyway, then we’ll all be better off. Okay?”

“I don’t like being special,” muttered Harry, feeling decidedly sorry for himself even though he could see Tonks’ point. “People point and expect me to do all the work – that’s when they don’t turn on me.”

“So? Ignore them. We know the truth, and we love you for yourself.”

“Why can’t Harry sue the Prophet for libel?” put in Hermione. “I can’t believe they got away with that scurrilous rumour-mongering over the last few years. And Minister Fudge must be exposed to a slander suit?”

“Neither slander nor libel are criminal activies, so it’s not something the Aurors get invovled in,” replied Tonks in her ‘professional’ voice. “Harry’d need to launch a civil suit. But he’s not of age, so it’s his guardian’s responsibility.”

“The Dursleys,” spat Harry.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t write some threatening letters, though, Harry,” said Hermione brightly.

“Yeah,” said Tonks. “A nice letter warning whomever that if they don’t cease and desist, and make amends, then you’ll launch a suit once you come of age, should get them to shut up.”

“Wish I’d thought of that when it mattered,” grumbled Harry. He sighed deeply and gave a weak smile. “I suppose you’re right, Nymph. I agree with what you’ve done and I’m glad you didn’t let it go on very long before telling me. More than I can say for some,” he finished darkly.

Tonks hugged Harry. “Thanks, Harry,” she said, kissing him on the cheek as she released him. “You’re a sport.”

He smiled at that, not sure how to respond since a flirty reply to Tonks felt wrong with Hermione present. Eventually he said, “So what else is there?”

“Huh?”

“What else about me is special. You may as well give me the full list.” He grinned, finally thinking of a way to respond to Tonks’ earlier statement. “Or do I have to tickle it out of you?” he grinned, reaching out with the first two fingers of each hand hooked, ready to play havoc with Tonks’ ribs.

Tonks retreated wide-eyed, scooting around to hide behind Hermione. “No, no! That’s okay, I’ll tell you!” Hermione grinned at Harry, and the two of them tackled Tonks with a four-pronged tickle attack. The Auror dissolved in shrieking laughter.

At length, the three of them lay together on the enormous circular cushion, breathing heavily.

“So,” said Harry, “you were saying?”

“I dunno if I should tell you after that display of treachery, lover boy.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“I almost wet myself.” Hermione giggled. Tonks added, “And as for you, missy, I’ll get you later.”

There was silence for a time as Harry decided that simply waiting was better than pressing for getting information out of Tonks right now. After about a minute, Tonks sat up and looked at Harry seriously.

“Okay, Harry, pay attention. You already know you’re a Maker, and that Albus thinks you’re a Mage.”

“That means he’ll have the ability to directly see magic?” asked Hermione, looking for confirmation.

“Yep. It doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s very powerful, but as it happens Albus thinks Harry’s also got quite a bit of raw power. After the power sharing thing we did this afternoon, I think I’ve got to agree with him.

“Let’s see, what else... that little ceremony on your birthday is a community ritual; it was developed back in the days when a community would elect one or two defenders to protect the village from outsiders – you know, bandits, raiders, acquisitive lords. It’s supposed to set up power sharing channels but Albus rigged it so you’d make them much larger than normal. That’s what I was testing this afternoon. In theory you can share power with anyone who drank the potion, and likewise you can draw on their power if you need to. It’s not done all that often these days – it’s mostly a family thing – I believe he did it so you would have an extra pool of power to draw upon when you’re facing Riddle and his merry men.

“Umm, then there was the fact that you don’t seem to be limited by ordinary limits – or maybe that’s just that you don’t know what you’re not supposed to be able to do, and some of the rest of us would be well served by not being limited that way as well. And finally, there’s something odd about your body. I’m pretty sure you’re not actually a metamorphmagus, but you seem to have magical control over your body somehow. Your hair doesn’t seem to grow if you don’t want it to – you’ve never been to the Hogwarts barber, have you? - and-”

“What barber?” interrupted Harry.

“Oh, really, Harry.”

“See?” said Tonks with a smile. “In addition to the hair, you’ve grown muscle much faster than you should have over the summer. I deliberately tried to get you to do this to find out if you are in fact a metamorph, but you’ve changed much too slowly to actually be a metamorph but much too fast for it to be anything but magical. I don’t know what’s going on, but I plan to keep pushing you physically so we can get you looking all nice and buff. Besides, if you’re nice and fit you won’t get hit by a curse when you’re too puffed to dodge out of the way.” She shared a glance with Hermione that told the younger girl that it was also being done simply for her enjoyment, but Harry didn’t need to know that.

Harry felt rather odd. He was wasn’t sure if he should feel proud, or outraged, or something else entirely. It was all rather overwhelming, really. Eventually he simply decided not to think about it, but instead to just get on with his life, and maybe live a little rather than simply existing.

“Thank you, Nymph,” he said. “I do appreciate you looking out for me.”

Tonks’ expression softened for a moment before returning to its normal animation. “Don’t thank me just yet, lover boy!” she crowed. “Training starts again tomorrow morning. Don’t forget your shield!”

“So what is on tomorrow’s agenda?” asked Hermione.

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow, we’re going to teach you two to Apparate, and once you’ve got that down we’re going to visit an old disused quarry the Aurors use sometimes for training.”

“What ever for?” asked Harry.

“Remember how we decided you needed to try some powerful spells to get started seeing magic? That’s what for.”

11. Seeing Double

The Time of Change

by Olafr (olafrt@gmail.com)

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13

Last updated: 15 February, 2005.

Author’s Notes: Seeing double – Harry manages to see magic for the first time, and Hermione takes Harry swimming. (Cliché? What cliché?) Also, I have not yet read HBP so I don’t know Rowling’s mechanics of apparation or even whether she spells them out or not. (I’m waiting for the paperback edition to come out.) I decided to ignore that lack and invent my own, so I don’t want to hear any complaints that the technique isn’t canon. :-)

11. Seeing Double

Tonks’ expression softened for a moment before returning to its normal animation. “Don’t thank me just yet, lover boy!” she crowed. “Training starts again tomorrow morning. Don’t forget your shield!”

“So what is on tomorrow’s agenda?” asked Hermione.

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow, we’re going to teach you two to Apparate, and once you’ve got that down we’re going to visit an old disused quarry the Aurors use sometimes for training.”

“What ever for?” asked Harry.

“Remember how we decided you needed to try some powerful spells to get started seeing magic? That’s what for.”

oOoOoOo

“Okay, you two, today we’re going to learn Apparation. You’re both bright people, and I know you’ve both read McGiven, so neither of you should have any trouble at all.” Tonks frowned, and set down the well-knawed peach pit she was holding. “Moody told me that he had a word to you two about that book. Let me emphasise what he said. If anyone official finds out you even know about that book, let alone have read it, there’ll be serious trouble. As in, forced Obliviation, trouble. So keep it quiet. Okay?”

“Yes, Nymph,” said Harry with a half smile. Hermione nodded solemnly.

Tonks snorted at Harry’s apparent flippancy but nodded. “Good. Now, we’ll be taking a portkey to an Auror training range. It’s unplottable and so forth, so you won’t need to worry about underage magic detection there. It can get pretty cold there, even at this time of year, so you might want to bring a cloak. Oh, and wear robes.”

A few minutes later, the two joined the now bright cyan haired Tonks downstairs. After saying goodbye to Hermione’s parents, the three of them poked the old ballpoint pen that Tonks produced and, a dizzying moment later, they had landed... nowhere.

It was cold, shockingly so to bodies acclimatised to summer’s warmth, and a stiff wind was blowing. The wind that seemed to want to snatch his loosely-buttoned cloak away, and Harry struggled to button it closed as he looked around. The sun shone, painting the surrounding landscape in bright greens and yellows. Clouds were scattered across a sky which was slightly deeper in colour than he was used to, making them appear to stand out as though painted. There were no trees, only a low scrubby ground cover with bare rock peeking through here and there. They appeared to be on top of an enormous swell of land, far too large to be described as a hillock but not large enough to be a plain, and in the distance Harry could see that they appeared to be surrounded by similar humps in the landscape separated by deep dells. They were utterly alone, completely out of sight of civilisation.

“Welcome,” came the voice of Alastor Moody from right in front of them, “to the Skinsdale Moors.” He shimmered into view, his wand held to the top of his own head. He was frowning at Harry darkly. “I expected better of you, Potter,” he said in a disappointed tone. “What happened to those wards you were using all the time? You should have spotted me straight off. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

Harry jumped as Moody shouted his catch phrase, then nodded sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said.

“You will be, Potter, you will be. If you don’t smarten up, that is.” He turned his head to face Hermione. “That goes for you, too, Missy. You’re supposed to be intelligent – use your head!” The admonition was gentle, for Moody, but Hermione still looked down guiltily and nodded.

“Now, pay attention, you two,” continued Moody. “You can do pretty much what you want here and you won’t get in trouble for it. But that doesn’t mean you can do stupid things! Keep your heads, and always tell us what you’re going to do before you do it. That goes double if you’re tryin’ somethin’ new!” He paused a long moment, waiting for both teens to nod, then looked to Tonks, who addressed the two.

“Harry, Hermione,” she said, “you’re here to learn by doing. You can’t really get into trouble here, and we’re here just in case you somehow manage it. So I don’t want you to hold back. There’s no-one here to look silly in front of, so if you leave your clothes behind somehow then nobody’s going to tell and there’s no reason to be embarrassed, and the worst that can happen is that you get a chill. Understand?”

Again the two nodded, and Harry quickly glanced at Hermione and the two exchanged nervous smiles.

“So, who’d like to go first?” she asked. “Hermione?”

Hermione nodded, and Moody made a quick gesture with his wand, causing a large yellow cross about a metre across to appear on the ground about twenty metres away. A second gesture made similarly-sized circle, two metres to Hermione’s left.

Harry watched as Tonks led Hermione over to the circle and spoke with her for about a minute. He couldn’t hear what she was saying to Hermione as the wind carried away her words. She then returned to join Moody and himself. For a long, long minute, Hermione stood there, wand in hand, and suddenly, with a sharp crack!, she disappeared, reappearing almost immediately just in front of the yellow cross. Tonks apparated next to Hermione, had another quick word, then returned. Ten seconds later, Hermione apparated once again, this time appearing in the exact centre of the circle.

“Well done, Hermione!” called Tonks, clapping loudly so she could be heard against the wind. “Do it once again, then we’ll let Harry have a go.”

Hermoine duly apparated once again to the cross and back again, then ran over to Harry, a grin a mile wide splitting her face. “Harry, I did it!” she cried in triumph as she grabbed him in an embrace. Harry put his arms around her to steady her then let her step back.

“Well done, Hermione,” he said with a matching grin. “How was it?”

“Oh, I had to concentrate quite hard to make the first jump, but after that it was easy!”

“Okay, loverboy, your turn,” said Tonks, taking Harry’s arm and leading him away from Hermione. “Now, remember the incantation, but before you say it, make sure you take a moment an feel every part of yourself and, if you can, your clothing. It’s not hard, it just needs a little practice. You remember everything?” Harry nodded, casting his mind over the pointers he had absorbed from the book. “Good. One final point, your wand. Most wizards use their wand because they’re lazy, but it’s not strictly necessary. Feel your magic, feel how it fills your body, how it flows into the things you’re touching. That’s the best way to make sure you don’t leave something behind. Okay?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good. Now, you saw what Hermione did earlier. I want you to aim for the centre of the cross. Okay? Good. Then just do it.”

Harry concentrated, using his meditation practice and his experience in feeling his magic guide him into a state where all outside distractions no longer existed. He felt his magic, how it filled his skin. He felt his clothes where they touched him. He extended his magic to flow like liquid, visualising his clothes being coated in it. He opened his eyes, and saw the cross, and visualised standing there.

Now he was ready to go, he decided to be brave, be confident, and decided to leave his wand in its holster. He concentrated further, feeling the potential of his magic thrumming around him, and murmured to himself, “Go.”

oOoOoOo

Moody watched as Tonks gave the usual pep talk to Potter as she walked him over to the circle. Or maybe not so usual, given Dumbledore’s ideas about teaching the kid. All appeared to be well, however, with a few nods from the kid and then Tonks returning with a smile and a nod. She stopped standing next to him. Granger stood a few yards away, concentrating on the boy, so he wasn’t surprised when Tonks leaned over to murmur in his ear.

“A galleon says he’ll get it first time.”

He snorted. “I don’t take sucker bets, Tonks,” he growled. His magic eye caught something, and he concentrated. “Merlin’s hairy balls! He’s going to deafen us!” The Potter kid was now glowing perceptibly to the magic-sensitive vision of his replacement eye, and with every moment it only got brighter. “Put your hands over your ears!” he called to Granger. Then he noticed that she, too, was beginning to glow. Frantically, he checked Tonks, who was also beginning to glow to his sight. “Shit! Did you remember to tell him to drop those links yesterday, Tonks?!” he yelled. He backed away as he began to feel the kid’s magic, like ants skittering over his skin. He felt a gentle pull from within himself. He was being grabbed by the kid’s apparation field! He frantically apparated ten yards back, and his view of the world around him returned just in time to see Potter disappear, taking Tonks and Granger with him. The odd little pull continued for a moment longer, and then--

CRACK-BOOOM!!!

The sound was like the hammer of Thor, and a pressure wave slammed through him, almost knocking him off his feet. Great clods of dirt and grass was still rising from the kid’s departure point, sucked up by his departure, and Moody quickly formed an impervious shield to protect himself from the debris. After all, what goes up, must come down, and he didn’t want to be covered in dirt and mud any more than the next fellow.

The good news, though, was that Potter was standing exactly on the remains of the landing point, the two girls right next to him, almost touching. The three of them were standing on a rough circle of untouched grass surrounded by a ring of scoured dirt and flattened plants. Clods of dirt were starting to land all around Moody, and as a ringing started in his ears he cursed himself for forgetting to raise a soundproof shield. He watched Potter look up, then jump and turn, bowling over Tonks and himself. After a few moments more the rain of dirt came to an end, and he dropped his shield before apparating over to the others to make sure they were all right.

oOoOoOo

The feeling as he apparated was like nothing he had expected, nothing like the book described. The scenery simply changed; the feeling was almost that of pressure coming off.

The sound wasn’t right, either. Some sort of hollow thunder was echoing off the hills, and he looked up to see whether he was going to get wet. Nope, fluffy white clouds... where had the thunder come from?

Hermione’s panicked scream in his ear made him jump to face her, only to find an unexpected body behind him. The two of them went down in a tangle of limbs before Harry realised the person beneath him was Tonks.

The scream stopped, and Harry looked up at Hermione in dazed surprise. She returned his surprise, as his mattress began to writhe beneath him, he was amazed to hear a giggle bubble forth from his classmate.

“Get off me!” his mattress commanded. Finally coming to his senses, Harry quickly rolled off Tonks into the bare dirt. (Dirt? He could have sworn the landing area was all grass?) Tonks breathed a sigh of relief just as a low tud announced Moody apparating in.

“Everyone all right?” he asked loudly and tonelessly, his magical eye focusing for a long moment on each of the other three in turn.

“What happened?” asked Hermione, eyeing Harry carefully. Noticing the large yellow cross beneath their feet, she continued, “How did Harry apparate all three of us? We weren’t even touching him.” She remembered what Moody had shouted immediately before the jump, and frowned in thought. She grasped her want and closed here eyes, concentrating. “Harry! You’re still feeding power to me! You must have followed the links when you were visualising yourself.”

Moody shook his head as though bothered by an irritating fly, then pointed his wand at each ear briefly. “That’s better,” he said. Looking to Harry he continued, “Potter, your apparation field was far too large; I reckon you took a couple of yards worth of the air around you as well when you jumped. The thunderclap almost deafened me, you know, and that’s not good form! This isn’t some pissing contest where you see how big an apparation field you can raise!”

Harry looked sheepish. “Yes, Moody,” he said.

“I want you to try again, but if you can’t tell the difference between yourself and your magic, then drop the links first.” He gestured with his wand, and a large hollow square appeared about fifteen metres away. “This time, your target’s the square.” He turned to Tonks and Hermione, who were turning to step back. “You two stay there; if he takes you with him again at least it’ll keep the collateral damage under control.”

oOoOoOo

It was later that morning, and Harry, Hermione, Moody, and Tonks were huddled in the shelter of a small hut that Moody had conjured. They sat around an incongrously fancy table, which Harry had produced at Moody’s request, sipping on hot mugs of tea. Harry was not actually unhappy, but he was feeling rather out of sorts as he had been unable to apparate alone without actually dropping the links to Hermione and Tonks, and even then, he had always torn up the ground at his point of departure accompanied by huge claps of thunder.

Eventually, Moody had had enough. “That’s enough, Potter,” he had said. “Re-read the book and we’ll try again tomorrow.”

“The whole thing?” Harry had asked, incredulous.

Moody had given him a withering look. “Just the stuff on apparation,” he had eventually ground out. Harry had blushed, feeling about an inch high. It was then that Moody had waved his wand and the hut had appeared.

“So now what?” asked Harry, feeling somewhat sorry for himself. It was the first thing he had tried recently that he had not been able to make work reasonably quickly.

“Gonna make a virtue of your current problem, Potter,” said Moody, almost lightly for him.

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione. Tonks and Moody shared a look.

“We’re going to have Harry throw some nice, powerful spells so he can try and get his mage vision working,” said Tonks.

“What kind of spells?” asked Harry, perking up.

Tonks pulled a sheet of parchment folded lengthways from the neck of her robes. She held it out to Harry who took it and opened it. He looked at the sheet for a moment before raising it to his nose to sniff it.

“Smells like... Nymphadora,” he said, smiling what would have been a wicked smile if he had been feeling more positive. He snickered at the Tonks’ silent snarl at his use of her name.

“What’s the spell, Harry?” asked Hermione. The somewhat dull light in the hut suddenly brightened as the sun came out from behind another of the clouds scudding across the sky, propelled by the ceaseless wind.

“It’s a stone cutting spell, apparently,” he said distractedly as he skimmed the writing on the sheet of parchment.

“We’re goin’ down into a valley near here,” said Moody. He dropped a crushed aluminim drink can on the table without further comment. “Potter, when you’re finished reading that, give it to Granger. We’ll all take turns castin’ that spell for a bit, see if a bit of power can get those eyes of yours workin’. I reckon we’ll teach the you two young’uns a thing or two about projectin’ power into your spell, too, while we’re at it.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” enthused Hermione. Harry returned his attention to the page, sipping his cooling tea as he did so, sure that the coming session would at least be fun.

oOoOoOo

“Six clubs.”

“Six hearts.”

“Errr... six... no trumps?”

“Pass.”

“Hmm. Seven clubs.”

“So what happened then, hon?”

“Well, after Harry and Moody vanished the hut and the furniture, we took the portkey into this really bleak little valley. It wasn’t quite a ravine, really, it was much too broad but not really very big overall. About forty metres across, I suppose, and really steep-sided.”

“What’s your bid, then?”

“Oh, seven hearts.”

“Um...”

“What then, dear?”

“Moody started by demonstrating the spell for us. It makes a wide blade, really, which slices through rock. You’re supposed to use it to cut blocks and slabs of stone, but it requires ever so much power. They used it to cut the stones which make up Hogwarts, which is part of the reason it only took three years to build.”

“Harry, dear, if you don’t think you can make a bid, you are allowed to Pass if you like.”

“Oh, er, yes. Pass, then. Thank you.”

“Hmm. Err. Eight clubs!”

“Feeling confident are we daddy?”

“Are you cocky enough to make it eight hearts, daughter dear? That’s quite a bid.”

“Three hundred points worth.” Hermione eyed Harry shrewdly. “Yes, I think... eight hearts!”

“Stupefy!” The red jet of the spell bounced off Harry’s back to leave a black scar on the not-quite-white paint of the wall behind him.

“Nym! Must you?”

Nymphadora Tonks appeared suddenly, Harry’s invisibility cloak draped over her arm in a shimmering, liquid waterfall. “Constant vigilance, loverboy,” she lilted.

“I’m gonna find a bloodly lock for that trunk,” Harry grumbled. “If it’s not Ron bloody Weasley helping himself, it’s Nympha-bloody-dora.”

“Language, Harry!” admonished Hermione.

“Nymphadora, dearest, if you wouldn’t mind...?” asked Emma, nodding towards the black mark.

“Oh! Sorry.” She gestured at the black mark with her wand. “Reparo! Besides, Harry, you don’t keep it in your trunk.”

“Trunk, dresser, same thing.”

“So, were you perchance going to risk nine clubs, father dearest?”

Dan eyed his daughter, his eyes narrowed and his jaw jutting a little. After a long moment, he shook his head. “I don’t think so, daughter mine. Hearts it is.”

“Oh, goody!” Hermione reached out and took the three cards in the middle of the table into her hand, quickly sorting them. She frowned in thought. “I see you weren’t really serious with your clubs bid, father,” she teased somewhat absently as she frowned at her hand.

Dan just smiled at his daughter before turning to Harry. “So what happened next, Harry?”

Harry frowned mightly. “Apparently, in addition to being a Mage, a Maker, a Parseltongue, and almost but not quite a Metamorph, plus no doubt a number of other things with Leading Capitals,” said Harry, “I’m also, er, somewhat more powerful than normal.”

Hermione looked askance at Harry, but quickly pulled three cards from her hand and placed them to her right in a neat, face-down pile. “Right, I’m ready,” she said.

“What does that mean?” asked Dan.

“Who’s your partner?” interrupted Emma, addressing her daughter, sensing as Hermione had that Harry was being made rather uncomfortable by the line of questioning.

“How about the ace of diamonds?” asked Hermione brightly.

There was silence for a long moment. Then, Harry jerked upright. “Oh, that’s me!”

“Glad to hear you had something behind that no-trumps bid,” said Hermione somewhat tartly, though she wore a broad smile.

“It’s your lead, Hermione,” said Dan.

“Yes, yes. I think we’ll see what my partner’s got up his sleeve. Let’s see what you make of this,” she replied to her father with a grin, placing the Six of Diamonds face-up in the centre of the table.

“Ouch! You wound me, daughter.” He turned his attention to Harry. “So I’m curious. What does ‘somewhat more powerful than normal’ mean?”

Harry blushed and ducked his head, concentrating on the middle of the table where the cards would soon be played.

“Oh, really, father!” said Hermione in exasperation. “Can’t you see you’re embarrassing Harry?”

“Why? What’s to be embarrassed about? Now if he was weak or something, that’s be like having a small... er...”

“Daddy!” shrieked Hermione.

“Ahem, well, I don’t see what Harry’s got to be embarrassed about. Isn’t it a good thing to be powerful?”

“I can’t believe you! Imagine, bringing that up.” Hermione’s cheeks and neck were crimson.

“I don’t see why it’s a problem unless he really does have a...” Harry

“Why don’t you quit while you’re ahead, honey?” put in Emma.

“Speaking as someone who’s nursed Harry,” said Tonks suddenly with a mischevious lilt to her voice, “I can say that Harry is above average in all respects.”

Tonks’ remark fell into the conversation like a stone into a pond, leaving a thick silence in its wake.

“Were you going to lead something, Hermione? And why won’t anyone answer my question?”

“Just leave it, Hon,” said Emma quietly, giving Dan a ‘we’ll talk later’ look.

oOoOoOo

Later that evening, Tonks sat with Emma and Dan in the living room. Harry had eventually come out of his shell as the game had gone on, and he and Hermione had run upstairs to get some sleep readily enough once Tonks had informed Harry that his physical training would resume tomorrow in all its former rigour. It was after eleven o’clock.

“Dan, you should understand something about Harry,” said Emma. “Dora told me a bit about his upbringing.” Dan looked his wife in the eyes, his expression serious. She went on, “From what Dora says, Harry’s been abused in a number of ways. Tonight’s behaviour...” She sighed. “Dora?”

Tonks tried not to look like she’d eaten something bad. “Harry was brought up believing he was a freak and abnormal, and being beaten and locked in his cupboard for days on end every time he did accidental magic or even some normal ‘kid’ things, like showing imagination. Despite his power and ability, which are simply amazing, he’s only a fair student.

“I’ve been working on him this summer to try and get him to enjoy being better than normal,” she went on quietly. “And he’s been pretty good about it lately. But when you put him on the spot tonight, Dan, I think he felt threatened. He knows me well, but he hardly knows you at all, and I think your questions put him off balance, even though you meant them positively.” She paused, then went on, “The Headmaster put Harry through the little-known ‘full’ version of a fairly common coming-of-age ritual on his birthday. In the form that Dumbledore did it, it’s a power sharing and community ritual. I’ve noticed that I can sometimes tell what Harry’s feeling, and I’m sorry to say that your questions made him very nervous. I think he felt like he was being accused of being bad, like a five-year-old.”

“How’s he feeling now?”

Tonks shrugged. “I’m not sure. I can’t feel anything at the moment.”

Emma frowned. “Does Harry know about this?”

Swallowing, Tonks shook her head. “I don’t think so. He now knows about the power sharing aspect of it, and he’s been told about the emotional aspect, though I don’t think he knows that strong feelings are shared between members of the Community... especially his, since he’s the Centre.”

Emma frowned in thought. After a moment, she asked, “Did Harry know about this before he took part in the ritual?”

oOoOoOo

12 August, 1996

Ron,

Made a rather shocking discovery earlier today mate. Turns out I’m one-fifth owner of the Holyhead Harpies, of all things! (Imagine that – thanks to Sirius, I’m part owner of the one team I can’t play in! Just as well I wasn’t seriously contemplating a Quidditch carreer as my ownership would make it rather awkward.) Anyway, this is significant because I’m told that makes me a member of the Quidditch Owners’ Association – and that means I can do something nice for my friends.

In the past, I’m sorry to say that your birthday presents have consisted of mostly things like Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Botts’ Beans. I’d like to make up for that, if you’ll let me. Please find enclosed two tickets in the Owners’ Box for each of the remaining Cannons’ games this summer, and in the hope that you’ll either broaden your horizons (joke, mate! - well, sort of) or give them to Ginny, two tickets to each of the Holyhead Harpies’ games that are on before Hogwarts returns. That’s three games for each team, or six in total. And I don’t want to hear anything about not accepting them – it’s not like they really cost me anything to get in the first place (except Sirius’ death so I could inherit... sorry, I didn’t mean to get morbid). So early happy birthday, mate, and I hope you take someone you like to each game – not necessarily the same someone.

Life here at the Grangers has taken some getting used to. As you know, I’m staying with the Grangers for the remainder of this summer. Tonks is with me as well, acting as a bodyguard cum big sister; she and I are staying in the attic. Tonks magicked the room larger and beds and bookshelves and so on have been created. Tonks is great fun to be with, and she’s been telling me a bit about being an Auror and scaring the bejeezus out of me about NEWTs. She’s joking, I hope, but she and Hermione have been ganging up on me and I’ve found myself doing some study almost every day. (Yes, despite the fact that there’s no homework assigned.)

As I told you at the party, she’s also got me doing a whole lot of fitness work and physical training, working on my strength, endurance, and agility. Or so she claims. I think she just likes to make me sweat. (Speaking of the party, I need to have a chat to you at some point about one aspect of that. But on the train or the first week back is soon enough, as it’s not urgent. It’s not really the kind of thing you put in a letter.)

Evenings are what’s really different, though. Hermione’s parents don’t allow her to study in the evenings. That’s family time, and now that Tonks and I have joined them that rule applies to us as well. So we’ve spent time talking, reading books (fiction – that is, stories), playing games. I’ve learned how to play a card game called 500, which is more complex than it looks, but great fun. I’ve also learned about Monopoly, and that Hermione can be utterly ruthless.

Hermione’s different when she’s with her parents. More confident, I guess. They tease each other, and I tell you it’s taken some getting used to being teased myself by people I hardly know. Tonks, of course, fits right in, but she can be quite a tease herself.

Speaking of Hermione, mate, I’ve got a rather difficult thing to ask. Hermione shook me awake this morning, and something about her just took my breath away. She was all surrounded by this light, like she was glowing from within, and it made her look like an angel descended to Earth. (Did I write that? Whew!)

So anyway, it struck me that I really like her. Yes, that way. I was thinking of maybe asking her out, and seeing if just maybe she likes me. Frankly I doubt it, but Tonks has been on me to “go for the gold” a bit more when dealing with people, so I figure I just might give it a go. What have I got to lose? She can only say no. Actually, no, she could actually hex my goolies off, make me feel like a total twat, spread nasty rumours about me, and worst of all hurt me... but I figure it’s worth the risk.

The thing is, I figure you might feel you like her a bit too. I’m not asking your permission to approach Hermione – she’s not yours, not so far as I know, and if she is then I’m sure she’ll let me know in no uncertain terms – but I suppose I’m really trying to sound you out a bit and find out if you’re really going to get your nose out of joint if I go ahead and she doesn’t reject me. I suppose I figure you’ve felt that way for most of the last year, and you’ve had a good long time to take your own chance and maybe it’s my turn, but I suppose what I’m trying to say is... Bugger, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. It’s so much easier to just write a short note - “Hi Ron, having a great summer – how ‘bout those Cannons?” - than this kind of letter. Tonks’ influence again – trying to get me to open up some more, and I want to be a better friend to you so that means telling you this kind of stuff, she says. She’s also told me she wants me to write to three people I’ve never written to before and normally wouldn’t write to, classmates of mine. Sheesh.

I feel like I should just screw this up and start again, but I can’t face it. Gryffindors go forward, and so does this letter.

Wishing you all the best, and do enjoy the remainder of your summer,

I remain, your friend (I hope),

Harry Potter

P.S.: Looking forward to seeing you on the train – and early happy birthday! Enjoy the games.

PPS: I’ve also included a selection of batteries for your father. Tell him to touch the shiny parts of one of the square ones with his tounge. I’m sure he’ll get a charge out of it.

oOoOoOo

Harry was a little surprised when Pigwidgeon hurtled into the attic late the following day, interrupting the afternoon exercise period. Harry had removed the letter and set it aside for later reading, but Tonks had soon sent him off to read it as he was distracted and not paying attention to what he was doing.

Tremulously, Harry opened the letter. He knew that the letter could easily spell hard times for his relationship with his long-time friend, but he clenched his jaw, firmed his stance, and broke the seal on the letter.

The news was good. Ron was thankful for the tickets, and agreed with Harry that while he (Ron) did feel as though he too might Like Hermione, that was no reason why Harry shouldn’t see if she Liked him, since as Harry correctly pointed out, Hermione was after all her own person and could (and habitually did) make up her own mind. He then went on to say that he rather thought he might try inviting Lavender to the first game – after all, as Harry had pointed out, she could only say no and Gryffindors go forward. And yes, thank you, he had passed on the Holyhead Harpies tickets to Ginny, who had also been very appreciative.

He had finished by saying that Harry’s rather touchy-feely letter had made him feel rather awkward at first, but added that it was nice to receive as well provided that there was no hugging on the train platform to be expected. Well, maybe a little one, but that was all. And definitely no kissing. At all.

Harry snorted with laughter at this – it appeared as though Ron was growing a sense of humour. He set aside the letter from Ginny that she had included, returning to his exercises under Taskmaster Tonks with a light heart.

oOoOoOo

Later that evening, Tonks, Harry, and Hermione were in the attic. They had eaten there, as the Grangers had gone out to a dinner party being hosted by friends of theirs. The three of them were reading – Tonks was reading a Victorian romance novel, while Harry and Hermione were sitting side by side on a comfortably-plush couch, reading books from the Headmaster’s collection.

Harry was reading McGiven again, or at least, he was trying to. He was supposed to be trying to understand where he had gone wrong and looking for alternatives to apparation... but he couldn’t concentrate. Hermione’s nearness called to him, and he found himself looking up at her as she concentrated on her own book. The letter he had written to Ron, and Ron’s surprising reply, kept running through his mind. He thought about all the times she had smiled at him, supported him, even hugged him. Her support earlier this summer... the times she had held him while he was weak after a session with Snape. Maybe... maybe she did like him the way he liked her. Her shoulder brushed his as she turned a page, and his hypersensitive awareness of her immediately noticed when she didn’t move away.

Something about her scent tickled his brain, and he breathed in, softly but deeply. He was reminded of the time she had slept with him in his bed, together with Nymph. They had ended up spooned together, her bum nestled against him, her holding his hand against herself.

Thinking back, Harry felt now as though his heart would burst. He felt himself being pulled towards Hermione. It was not a physical thing, but he could not help himself as he leaned closer to her. He wanted to kiss her neck, to discover whether she tasted as nice as she smelled, but the censor of his mind held him back – the thing that told him that nobody would want him, and more usefully told him not to tell both ‘Mione and Nymph that they were unspeakably hot, and they should strip off their clothes and jump into the sack with him Right Now. And so he hung there, too timid to lean forward and kiss her, too caught in desire to move back and pretend nothing had happened.

She must have felt him breathing on her. She turned to look at him, only a few inches away, her eyes first questioning and then smiling gently. He could not move away, even though his internal censor was screaming at him to back away. He rather thought she looked like she would welcome a kiss, and Gryffindors go forward, but he could not make himself. And so he hung there, trapped in uncertainty.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione at last. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all. I, err....” He could no longer hold her eyes; he leaned back and looked away. He himself blushing.

Hermione put down her book and once more closed the gap between them, placing her hand on his arm. “What?” she asked gently. She looked at him blushing, and wondered if maybe, just maybe...

“I was wondering...” Harry swallowed. “I was wondering... ifyou’dbemygirlfriend.”

Her eyes grew wide, and he could see what looked like it might be an incredulous joy dawning in them. Then they shuttered, and he could no longer read her. She studied his face for a bit, a broad, close-lipped smile growing on her face. “What did you say?”

He swallowed, gathering his resolve. He was committed now; he knew that she had understood him and she wasn’t one to deliberately injure someone. He hoped that her teasing meant that the answer would be ‘yes’.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” he said unsteadily, forcing the words out.

Her smile grew brilliant, dazzling him. She flung herself forward, flinging her arms around his neck. “Yes!” She pulled back a little, once again looking him in the eyes. “Yes.” He felt her arms tugging him forward, and he knew she wanted him to kiss her. He looked to her lips, involuntarily tensing, then leaned forward to press his lips against hers. His eyes closed, and for a long moment he enjoyed the intimate contact, then pulled back a little.

He opened his eyes again to see her frowning prettily. “You’ll have to kiss me a little better than that if you want to be my boyfriend, Harry Potter,” she said. Her voice bore a teasing lilt.

Determined to do his best, Harry thought back to some of the movie clinches he had seen in passing at the Dursleys. He stood, pulling her up by her hands and then embracing her. He was pleased to see that she was now three inches shorter than he. She fit nicely into his arms. He smiled and pulled her into his embrace, leaning forward to kiss her properly.

Her lips were petal-soft and mobile as they kissed for the second time. Harry was surprised when she took his lower lip between hers but returned the favour and soon he was lost in her, his whole world was Hermione, her lips, her self, and the unavoidable discomfort in his groin. Harry ignored the messages from his personal proximity wards which recorded Tonks’ approach and subsequent departure as he continued to lose himself in Hermione. Eventually they parted.

“Wow,” said Harry reverently. Hermione pushed him down onto the couch again and sat in his lap before pulling him in for another long kiss. She felt his excitement but ignored it for the moment since his hands seemed to be behaving themselves. At length they parted once more and Hermione put her forehead against his.

“My boyfriend is a wonderful kisser,” said Hermione in a breathy voice.

“Thanks,” said Harry weakly. “You’re pretty amazing, too, ‘Mione.”

Hermione hugged him and squirmed on his lap. “Is that because of me?” she asked quietly.

Harry looked down guiltily and nodded, embarrassed. “Yes. Please don’t be offended, Hermione, I can’t help it.”

“I trust you, Harry. I’m not ready for sex yet, but I know that you can’t help being excited. I can’t help it either, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” She leaned into him, positioning herself to kiss him.

oOoOoOo

The sixteenth of August was one of those days that made Harry wonder if he was living in England or India. Since early the previous day, the wind had set out of the south-east. The weather had started unsettled but had cleared by mid-afternoon, and it had become surprisingly hot before the sun had eventually gone down, taking some of the heat out of the day.

Now, though, it was mid-morning and the summer sun blazed out of a blue vault unmarked by the tiniest suspicion of a cloud. It was already blazing hot, and the weather forecast predicted it would reach a shocking thirty-eight degrees – one hundred degrees in the old scale – before a slight cooling in the early evening. In a country where summer temperatures were notable when they exceeded thirty degrees, this was almost unprecedented heat.

To Harry, though, who had been cooped up inside for a whole month, the feeling of the sun’s almost physical power on his skin was pleasant beyond belief. He had shed his top very early on in the exercise period this morning, and the feeling of sweat running down his chest and ribs, the rivulets cooled by the fitful gusts of warm breeze, was positively delightful, even if he was also feeling quite overheated.

“Whew! I feel like a swim,” said Hermione. She ran her fingers through the thick mass of hair which she had pulled back into a rough braid for the exercise. Harry thought it made her look completely different. She looked towards the neighbors over the left-hand fence, and frowned in disappointment. “It’s a pity the Falmouths are out, we could go over there.”

Tonks looked up from where she was crouched, breathing heavily after leading Harry and Hermione through the last part of the exercises. “Oh, I know!” She stood and clapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders, leading him towards the house. “Come on, Harry, let’s go put a pool in upstairs.”

“But--” began Hermione, before being cut off by a lighting frown shot her way by Tonks. “Oh, all right. Can we at least have an open air illusion?”

“Oh, we can do better than that,” said Tonks. “Boy, am I glad I was a Ravenclaw,” she muttered gleefully under her breath.

After quickly waving her wand to clean up the sweat and dirt that clung to each of them, Tonks led the way upstairs with Harry and Hermione following her. “What do you think she’s got in mind, Harry?”

“Probably a little magical exercise for me,” he said dourly. Hermione glanced at Harry in amazement. He had never complained about his workload before, but she saw that he was grinning at her cheekily. She slapped his near shoulder lightly.

“Oh, you.”

Upstairs again, Tonks led the way to the far side of the exercise area. She stopped by the wall and turned to face the other two. “Now, pay attention, Harry,” she said. “This is some pretty advanced stuff, but I think you’ll be able to do it easily. You’ve certainly got the power; it’s just a question of whether you can visualise things clearly enough.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod.

“Good. What we’re going to do is extend the space expansion charm from this wall. It’s best if you create and merge another bubble instead of trying to extend this one; that way if you get it wrong we can’t be hurt by the collapse of the bubble we’re standing in now. Okay?” At Harry’s not she went on. “Now, what we want is an outdoor appearance, with a wall of windows and some French doors going right here,” she said as she slapped the wall for emphasis. “Now, in addition to the space expansion bubble, if you’ve got enough power – and you do, lover boy, for sure – it’s easier if you fully visualise the finished environment at the same time. So, if you’re ready, I’ll guide you through it. Okay?”

With a nod and a quick smile at Hermione, Harry took his wand and closed his eyes. With practiced ease he entered what he thought of as his ‘heavy magic’ mode, which was actually a form of focussed concentration.

“Now,” said Tonks, “pull up some magic and hold it ready. I’m going to describe what I want, you’re going to visualise it using your magic, then when the visualisation is complete you let your magic go with a direction to execute the visualisation. It’s a large-scale conjuration mixed with the space expansion. Understand?”

“Uh-huh,” grunted Harry affirmatively. He had seen swimming pools before, in television advertising. “How big?”

“As big as you can manage,” said Tonks.

“An Olympic standard pool is fifty metres long by twenty metres wide, Harry, and it’s eight feet deep at one end and four feet at the other. They usually have a small spa pool nearby, about three metres square with a stepped bottom, half a metre deep near the edge to form a seat and then stepping down to a metre deep in the centre, where your feet go. Spa pools have bubble being forced through them in high-pressure jets; it’s a little like being massaged. Some pools have a diving pool as well; they’re usually ten metres square and five metres deep. Each pool has a way of circulating the water and keeping it fresh. Around the pool’s there’s usually some kind of stone flagging and then a grassy area, sometime shrubs and so on. There’s usually an open roofed area where people can relax out of the sun, too.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” said Tonks. “Have you got all that, Harry?”

“I don’t get the bubbles in the spa,” he said. “Or this pumping you’re talking about.”

“Why don’t you just visualise a large pond then, Harry? With a grassy area to rest, and a gazebo or something to relax in? Make the walls illusions of forest and or something, so we get the impression of a house build on a private, secluded lake. Can you do that?”

Harry nodded. “Just give me a minute.”

Tonks and Hermione watched as Harry stood facing the blank wall, his head bowed in concentration, his wand held lightly in his hand in front of him almost like a conductor’s baton. After a few minutes, they each once again felt a slight tugging on their beings that gradually became stronger, until finally Harry raised his head and, eyes still closed, flicked the wand.

What followed was, of course, magic, but magic to a degree and complexity that even Tonks, who was well experienced in the magical world, drew breath at seeing. The bottom half of the wall melted into white-painted French doors and sash windows, a white-framed wall of glass, each pane of glass about a foot and a half on a side. As the glass became clear, a wave of change swept away from them, leaving behind a scene from a painting of satyrs and nymphs. Before them lay a shallow but broad dell, a greensward leading the way from the house to the shore of a lake that appeared to be over a hundred metres across. Most of the shoreline was narrow, with luxurious trees and shrubs discouraging exploration, but to one side a wide gazebo stood near the shore of the lake. A wooden jetty protruded into the water about ten metres.

Harry breathed out explosively and opened his eyes. The scene was almost exactly as he had visualised it... ah, there was no sun. After a moment’s thought and another wave of his wand, the sourceless light was replaced by bright sunshine. He smiled proudly.

“Not bad,” he said to himself. Hermione grabbed his arm, jumping up and down in excitement.

“Oh, Harry, that’s amazing!”

“Not bad, he says,” said Tonks, shaking her head. Harry turned to her, hurt.

“Hey! I tried as hard as I could! I’m sorry I couldn’t do it perfectly the first time!”

Tonks stared at him, shocked, then shook her head. “No, Harry, you don’t understand. Hermione’s right, that’s amazing!”

“Oh,” said Harry, mollified. He blushed a bit in embarrassment at the misunderstanding. “Then thank you, I guess.”

“Was it really hard?” asked Hermione. “I could feel you, or rather, I could feel something pulling on me a little towards the end there.”

Harry nodded. “So that’s what that feeling was. I had to gather up my magic extra-hard to do it; I guess I was pulling something from you two as well? Oh well, at least I know what it feels like now.”

“I think you’ve been doing it a bit during apparation, too,” said Tonks. “Maybe that’s why you’ve been having problems.”

Harry shook his head. “I guess so.” He was very noncommittal; something sounded wrong about Tonks’ statement but he couldn’t quite think what.

“Shall we get changed and go swimming then?” put in Hermione excitedly. She pulled on Harry’s arm and added, “I want you to wear those Speedo’s we got you, Mr Potter.”

Harry looked at her hesitantly. He nodded after a moment, and was left by the newly-created glass wall as the girls dashed away to get changed.

oOoOoOo

Inside, Hermione and Tonks ducked into the bathroom to get changed. Tonks pulled on a tie-side bikini with a halter top in a shiny crimson fabric so bright it almost screamed. Finished, she watched as Hermione pulled up her on-piece suit then efficiently ran settled the seams so it sat comfortably. It was navy blue and somewhat modestly cut, with a double white stripe printed on it vertically above the left leg.

“Do you want to give Harry a thrill?” asked Tonks suddenly.

Hermione paused and thought for a moment. Her body language was uncertain. “I... You don’t mean going naked, do you?”

Tonks snorted in amusement. “No, but that’s not a bad idea. What I meant was, I could zap your suit so it’s a little see-through when it’s wet.”

“Oh! Well, I don’t know....”

“Come on, lover-girl. It’s totally private up there, just you and me and lover-boy. You don’t feel like teasing him a bit?”

Hermione thought it over for a bit, then nodded. “Oh, very well,” she said, then broke into a smile. “What are you going to do?”

By way of answering, Tonks got out her wand and muttered under her breath. Hermione’s suit changed from the dull dark-blue nylon to pure white with a bright sheen to it. She smiled as Hermione squeaked.

“You took out the lining!” she accused Tonks.

“Of course! Otherwise what’s the point?”

Hermione turned and looked at herself in the mirror. She had to admit the new suit made her look really good. She noticed that her nipples were lightly denting the now-unlined fabric, and she smiled at the thought of what the sight would do to Harry.

That’s if he didn’t just look away. She grinned at her reflection and nodded.

“Thanks, Dora,” she said. “Come on, let’s go!”

oOoOoOo

Harry stood nervously by the door, now dressed only in a bright green pair of Speedos. He didn’t feel as under-dressed as he had thought he might, as the swimsuit was lined and actually fairly thick so he didn’t have to worry about showing off his every detail to the girls. He knew it didn’t really make sense given the times Tonks had bathed with him, but it was a rather different thing being outside than in a bathroom.

Giggling suddenly burst from the bathroom, and Harry turned to see the girls coming out of the bathroom. Tonks was dressed in a rather small bikini, with midnight blue hair for contrast, but it was Hermione and her white swimsuit which drew his eye. She saw him looking and caught his eyes with hers, smiling at him.

Tonks broke into a run as she passed Harry. “Come on, last one in’s a greasy Snape!” Hermione stopped next to him and laid her hand on his forearm.

“Come on, Harry.”

Harry allowed himself to be tugged forwards. “You look amazing,” he said. She smiled at him in a way that sent a thrill up his spine. It was somehow a rather dangerous look.

“Just you wait, Mr Potter,” said Hermione. “Come on!” And with that she, too, broke into a run, leaving Harry to try and catch up. Tonks ran ahead of them down the jetty and jumped off then end. Hermione followed her, but Harry was nowhere near confident enough to just jump into water no matter how inviting it looked and instead waded in from the shore of the lake. He stopped when the water got up to his shoulders, about two thirds the way out to the end of the jetty. Instead he put one hand on the jetty, the top of which was only about six inches above the surface of the water, and enjoyed the coolness of the water.

“Come on, Harry!” called Hermione. Harry just shook his head, a little vexed that Hermione had forgotten that he couldn’t really swim. He had been taken to swimming lessons like the other children in school, but he had been dunked so many times by Dudley and the other children that he had never managed to feel comfortable or confident in the water. He had failed his swimming test dismally, despite only being required to swim twenty-five metres to pass it. He so wished for a handful of gillyweed, as it would give him all the instincts he needed to be comfortable in the water. He remembered the feeling of stroking through the depths, perfectly comfortable and knowing just what to do, almost like flying was to him.

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice was nearby, and his memory played back for him the sound of footsteps and a wet sound as she had sat down on the jetty right next to him. He cursed himself for, once again, neglecting to maintain his awareness all around himself. “Harry, look at me.”

He turned to look, and his breath caught in his throat. Hermione’s modest-looking swimsuit had turned practically transparent, hazing her skin like a whitish cellophane but hiding absolutely nothing. He jerked his eyes away from her breasts and her rigid nipples, dark pink and rigidly erect from the cold water, up to her eyes. She was smiling at him.

“I-I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

Hermione reached down and took his head in her hands. “It’s okay, Harry. It’s all right for you to look. Boyfriend privileges.”

“Boyfriend privileges?” repeated Harry, shocked.

“Mmm-hmmm.” Hermione let go and leaned back, straightening her hips as though about to slide into the water. For a long moment she hung there as Harry looked her up and down. He was surprised to see how see-through the suit was; he could see the individual hairs at the edge of her pubes. Slowly Hermione lowered herself into the water, ending up floating in front of him. She placed her arms around his neck and pulled herself close. His arms went around her almost automatically. She was warm and a little slippery in the cool water.

Harry didn’t know what to say; he was almost overwhelmed. He felt himself stiffening despite the cool water. In a frantic attempt to distract Hermione, he found himself saying, “And I suppose you get girlfriend privileges?”

“Yup,” she said, somewhat uncharacteristically Harry thought. Her hips bumped into his once, twice, and then she wrapped a leg around his hips. He could feel his half-erection (for the water was far too cold for him to become fully hard) press into her. She smiled at him and pulled him in for a kiss.

The kiss was very nice indeed, and Harry felt himself reacting more as her body heat warmed him up a little. When Hermione wriggled against him, he broke the kiss. “Hermione, wait,” he said. He was starting to wonder if this was in fact Hermione. Perhaps it was Tonks, playing a joke on him?

She relaxed a little and stopped her wriggling. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head, his thoughts racing. He wanted to ask her a question that only she would know, but he realised that he’d told Tonks so much while they were together at Privet Drive that it would be difficult to think of one Tonks definitely wouldn’t be able to answer correctly. Besides, Hermione could be offended, and that was the last thing he wanted. So he decided to try and sense if it was her. Recently, he’d had an odd feeling, almost a different taste or smell to things. Perhaps if he were to...

Harry opened his eyes and caught Hermione’s gaze, staring into her lovely brown eyes. As he did so he allowed himself move into his centre, the eyes-open meditation that he had been learning, and tried to open his senses to the world around him.

It was then that it happened. A glow surrounded Hermione, an explosion of colour and light that surrounded her like the corona of the sun. He gasped in amazement as, suddenly, the glow resolved itself into a myriad of glowing threads, each bright enough to make him want to squint and yet, not. A moment later, he became aware of another glow at the end of the jetty with a very different taste that somehow made him think of Tonks, and then further away again he could sense...

Everything. He clutched Hermione convulsively as his mind’s eye flooded him with sensations and information. He could sense the birds in the trees – oh, look, here comes Pig. He could sense the trees, and the grass, and even the gray blight that was the lack of life where roads passed. He could sense the people all around them, and the mind-twisting distortion that was the expanded space bubble they currently occupied, and there was Moody hiding in another pocket attached to the front of over-the-road’s house. He felt the connections, the delicate but omnipresent web of links between everything; he could feel...

Something jolted him. “...rry?! Harry?! Harry!!” Hermione’s voice was panicked. “Tonks!” she screamed. “Something’s wrong with Harry!” He jerked against her convulsive grip, lifting his loosely-hanging arms back around Hermione’s waist.

“I’m here,” he said quickly. “I’m here.” The vision, the overlay of his senses had gone away when he was jerked out of his meditative state although Harry could feel it at the back of his mind, waiting to be heard. “I’m okay.”

“Oh, Harry!” sobbed Hermione. She was still clutching him and he could feel her tears hot on his shoulder above the water. “I was so worried!”

“I’m sorry, ‘Mione,” said Harry with a smile. “I’m sorry, I just, I, well, I thought you might be Nymph playing a joke on me so I tried to sense whether you were you. And I saw, ‘Mione.” His voice was filled with wonder. “I saw.” He closed his eyes in an extended blink, and as he closed his eyes he could see Hermione etched in golden light before him.

“Oh!” cried Hermione excitedly, all thought of tears forgotten. “You mean your mage sight?” Harry nodded. “What’s it like?”

“It’s... there’s a glow, and it’s made up of all these little, um, strings I guess.” He struggled for words to describe what he had seen. “It’s like seeing, but not seeing; there’s taste and smell and feeling, but not.” He sighed, then smiled at Hermione’s perplexed expression. “I can’t really describe it.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised,” said Hermione. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Harry nodded and darted forward to give her a peck on the lips. “Boyfriend privileges!” he said afterwards, and Hermione giggled.

“Just don’t forget there are girlfriend privileges as well!”

oOoOoOo

Dear Harry, Hermione, and Tonks,

We’re holding a belated birthday party for Ginny tomorrow evening at 5 o’clock at the Burrow. As Ginny counts you all amongst her friends we’d very much like it if you would come and help us celebrate her fifteenth birthday.

RSVP.

Yours truly,

Molly Weasley

oOoOoOo

Author’s Notes Redux: Hermione’s appearance in the swimsuit is based on a particularly vivid memory of mine from when I was fifteen, of a girl who was chasing my mate Mina. To this day I have difficulty believing that this girl wore that suit to a public swimming pool. My imagination was also bolstered, if that’s the word, by some of the pics at Wicked Weasel (http://www.wickedweasel.com). This is a bikini shop operating out of Byron Bay (Australia’s eastern-most point, a resort town, and a rather surfie/hippy place) run by an ex drummer of the band Midnight Oil that features some fairly extreme cuts and/or fabric choices. It also has some fairly racy pictures of a number of girls wearing their bikinis, both professional and amateur. (If you do choose to visit that site, take care, as it’s not work-safe.)