Unofficial Portkey Archive

Wherein the Dursleys meet Tonks and Harry meets Godric; Harry goes back to the Ministry, starts training, and sits for a board of inquiry; he has an audience Minister Fudge, and sits for a press conference that leaves a number of people very unhappy; he decides to hire a lawyer and to do something nice for Ginny; he sends and receives various letters about Hermione's situation.

Disclaimer: I neither own nor claim any other rights in the characters and other concepts created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money, nor do I seek any commercial advantage from this work. As such it constitutes "fair use" as defined in 17 U.S.C. §107.

Chapter 5 - Back to the Ministry

Like the calm before the storm, the next few days passed routinely - if anything could be called routine in the life of someone rich, famous, fated to face the most powerful Dark wizard in the world in mortal combat - and who was not quite 16 years old. Harry continued running with his cousin every morning, and worked out diligently at the gym. Lao Kung was both pleased and proud that his meditation techniques were proving so effective in enhancing Harry's Occlumency powers. Indeed, the old Sefu seemed so content that Harry could not bring himself to bring up the old man's not letting on that he had been teaching Harry Occlumency techniques all along.

There was the usual - this summer's usual, anyway - flow of Harry's post. His aunt and uncle were finally resigned to the comings and goings of post owls. On Saturday, a carpenter turned up at the house and installed a protective cover for what Uncle Vernon said was going to be a large ventilating fan in the attic just under the eaves. The carpenter regarded Uncle Vernon somewhat strangely, since there was no fan and no circulation vents between the attic and the inhabited parts of the house. But he kept mum and got paid.

As soon as the carpenter left, Uncle Vernon summoned Harry. "All right," he growled, "that's done. You're to leave the fan cover louvers open except in heavy rain so those blasted birds may enter and leave discreetly."

"I'd be happy to do that," Harry answered honestly. "But they'll just get stuck in the attic and make a terrible racket. There's no way into my room from there."

Uncle Vernon had not thought of that. "Oh blast…. What to do?"

"Well…. I could handle it," Harry offered, trying to be helpful.

"The Hell you will," his uncle spat back. "You'd probably destroy the whole roof."

"I'm not as powerful as … er … Mister Moody - the wiz … one you met a few days ago. Rather, I think you saw I'm pretty precise with my … with what I can do."

Uncle Vernon's face got that unpleasant expression that let Harry know he had presented his Muggle guardian with a Hobson's choice. "Oh all right!" Uncle Vernon said grumpily. "I'm not going to spend another farthing on this. You can make a ruddy bird hole in the ceiling of your room - so long as you're careful and you keep it well hidden."

"I'll be careful," Harry promised. "I have to be."

"Just get on with it," his uncle brusquely declared. "And remember, from this point forward no more ruddy owls in the rest of my house."

"Don't worry," reassured Harry. "I'll place it in my closet where nobody can see it."

On Friday Harry received an effusive thank you letter from Ron for the use of his broom. Despite Ron's tone, the letter did not lift his spirits. Ron told Harry that he would not be back from camp until at least 10 August - only three weeks before the start of school. It could even be another week before Ron returned if the Hogwarts team made the finals of the tournament that concluded the Quidditch camp. Harry resolved to try to convince Dumbledore to let him go to Denmark to watch the final, if the team got that far.

Harry also received what could only be described as a "thanks for nothing" letter from Ron's fiery sister, Ginny. Ginny was incensed that Ron got to use Harry's Firebolt … whilst at the same time Harry had not spared her even the kindness of a note. Harry winced at being called "a complete ingrate," and wondered why she reacted so volcanically to him. True, he had just selected Bill as his guardian. True, not much more than a year ago, he had given Fred and George 1,000 Galleons, which made their joke shop dream into a reality. True, he had given Ron use of his very impressive, internationally rated broom.

But then, he had not done anything for Percy and Charlie, had he? Of course, they were no longer resident at the Burrow to rub Ginny's nose in it. Small wonder Ginny was in a "what have you done for me lately" (granted, he had saved her life several years earlier) snit.

Ginny had reason to feel ignored and left out. She had, after all, played a vital role at the Ministry. Indeed, she had arguably acquitted herself better than Ron. But all she had gotten for her troubles had been a broken ankle, and undoubtedly much grief from her rightly worried parents.

Harry certainly did not want to stay on Ginny's bad side - not if Ron's description of the Bat Bogey Hex Ginny used on Draco Malfoy the day of the "events at the Ministry" had been even close to accurate. He took her threat to hex him quite seriously.

He hoped her emotional tirade at him was just Ginny being Ginny, and not the type of anger Cho had displayed at him. Ginny had said she was over her silly, hero-worshipping infatuation, and he wanted to believe her. They were both overly emotional, and tended to set each other off. His mood swings had been getting worse. They needed to be damped down, not wound up.

When not working out, Harry mostly withdrew to his room. Sometimes he brooded, sometimes he listened to Dudley's CDs, and increasingly regularly he puttered about on the Internet doing such things as looking up song lyrics using Dudley's computer. His cousin had given him the password and allowed him free reign when he was away. All the while, Harry fretted over the way he had been tricked by Voldemort into going to the Ministry barely two weeks before, and how that trick had irrevocably changed his life.

After the latest revelations from Dumbledore, he felt his loss of innocence and his deprivation of a normal childhood more acutely than ever. Before, even though he had been the "Boy Who Lived," he had still had a passably normal life - without prophecies, solicitors, newspaper articles (well, there had been some of those), wills, politics, or piles of fan mail. Now scores of things were converging on him helter skelter. None of those things was familiar, and all of them should not have been the concern of anybody still looking towards a sixteenth birthday.

On occasion his cousin, and once even his aunt, commented about Harry seeming distant and distracted, but Harry could not bring himself to talk about his situation. It was just too complicated, and with the prophecy too dangerous, to talk to about with his Muggle relatives.

There was one break in Harry's repetitive regimen of workouts and withdrawal. Sunday morning Harry was towelling off following his post-run shower when he heard the doorbell ring. Evidently his aunt answered the door because Harry heard her scream first. Thinking wildly that Voldemort might be attacking, Harry leapt out of the shower only half dried, slipped on the tile floor as he sent the mat flying, and careened half running, half falling into his room where he threw himself at his wand and his glasses. Harry also banged his shin smartly against the wrapped headmaster portrait that Dumbledore had given him. That was a not-so-subtle reminder that he was supposed to hang that picture, but had yet to do so.

By the time Harry struggled into his clothes, he was already certain there had been no magical attack, since he could catch snatches of Uncle Vernon bellowing at someone: "HOOLIGAN…!! PUNKS LIKE YOU SHOULD BE ARRESTED…!! DISTURBING THE PEACE AT THIS HOUR OF THE MORNING…!! IN MY DAY WE DIDN'T…!! GET A HAIRCUT AND TAKE A BATH!!" Harry felt sorry for whomever it was. Somebody had probably come to the wrong address by accident.

Harry was just about to ignore the whole ruckus when he heard Uncle Vernon fall silent in mid-bellow. Aunt Petunia screamed again, and Harry heard Dudley's footsteps come pounding up the stairs. His wide-eyed cousin charged into Harry's room. "Harry," he panted, "come down, I think it's another one of your funny friends."

Harry lurched to his feet and hurried downstairs. There in the front doorway with her wand out and still pointed at Uncle Vernon was Tonks. Her eyes were narrowed and she looked like she had just encountered something exceedingly unpleasant, like a Boggart hidden in a toilet tank. And indeed she had….

Tonks' expression was nothing compared to Uncle Vernon's. His purple face, spittle-specked mustache, and distended lips were moving as if he were still yelling at the top of his lungs, but not a sound emerged. Uncle Vernon had only been half-dressed when he had responded to Aunt Petunia's scream, so the overall effect in Harry's opinion resembled an egg on toothpicks - a very bedeviled egg at that particular moment.

Harry could understand at once why Uncle Vernon was upset. Unlike Moody, Tonks looked quite convincingly Muggle in her appearance - only she looked like no Muggle with whom Uncle Vernon would ever be caught dead associating.

Tonks' outfit was a cross between punk and Goth. She was wearing high-healed boots and black jeans that were torn in strategic places. The torn fabric was held together with at least a dozen five-centimetre silver safety pins. She had a bare midriff with some sort of ring in her navel. Above her waist she wore a black T-shirt with a large red star that had a green seven-pointed leaf on it. The shirt was emblazoned with "The Clash" above the star and "London's Burning" below it. At least Tonks' hair was a natural colour (she often coloured it pink), but it was done up in numerous ten-centimetre black spikes that stuck out in all directions. She had also applied black lipstick.

"Wotcher Harry," greeted Tonks. "How've you been keeping? As I was trying to tell this great lump here - if he would ever let me get a word in edgewise - I'm here to check up on you. Dumbledore understood that your relatives said they wanted someone who looked more like a Muggle than Mad-Eye. That's me. I hang out with Muggles all the time. Nobody can out-Muggle me! How have the Muggles here been treating you? Better than they treat me, I hope."

"They've been all right," said Harry. "You'd better end that spell, though, before my uncle explodes."

"Happy to," said Tonks cheerfully. "Although I must admit that would be something to see…. Finite."

Uncle Vernon deflated like a released balloon. Panting loudly, he addressed Harry. "Boy … if you know … what's good for you … from now on … everybody checking … up on you … will look like … a respectable … normal person … not like this … blasted hooligan."

"I'll let Dumbledore know," Harry promised. `Be careful what you wish for...,' he thought.

"I've got something for you, Harry," Tonks revealed.

"Great," Harry said, smiling. "Let's go upstairs. I need you to help me hang a picture Dumbledore gave me."

In Harry's room, Tonks took what looked like a tea bag out of her back pocket, dropped it, and picked it up again. A wave of her wand caused it to expand to the size of a large handbag. Tonks removed a large stack of parchment and handed it to Harry. These were guardianship papers, in triplicate, for Harry to sign. Bill had already executed them. There was one copy for Harry, one for Bill, and one for the Ministry's records. Thus, Harry quickly signed three more binding magical contracts, with Tonks as his witness. As they were finishing up, Harry asked Tonks if there was any news.

"Well, the Deaters … Death Eaters … have been pretty quiet…." Tonks allowed. "An occasional odd disappearance, but nothing more. Unlike them, we've been active," said Tonks, lowering her voice until she practically whispered in Harry's right ear. "We tracked down the brother of Sirius' old wand on the Continent. That allowed us to interrogate Sirius' wand…."

"You used the Priori Incantatem effect," Harry observed dully.

"Oh, you know about that?" Tonks observed tartly.

"A little," Harry allowed - not really wanting to get into the circumstances under which that knowledge was acquired.

Tonks let it go. "We went backwards through the last dozen spells Sirius cast with it," she continued. "Our test conclusively proved that Sirius did not perform the curse for which he was sent to Azkaban. We'll be repeating the whole procedure before an investigating magistrate in just a few days. You'll have to testify at some point, but this independent evidence should make the case to clear Sirius."

Harry smiled weakly, but said nothing.

"Harry," cried Tonks. "I thought you would be more excited about this."

"I'm happy enough," said Harry. "But I'd much rather have Sirius than all the money in the world. I can't help it. It feels like blood money to me."

"There are things worse than blood money, Harry," reminded Tonks. "You have to accept that Sirius is gone. Don't get mad, don't get sad, get even - that's the ticket."

Harry was a little confused, but since he had no real desire to talk about Sirius anymore, he changed the subject. "Can you help me hang this picture? Dumbledore gave it to me four days ago, and I haven't gotten around to putting it up."

"What is it?" asked Tonks curiously.

"I think it's one of Hogwarts' old headmasters, so Dumbledore can check up on me if he needs to," said Harry, hoisting the package by the wire on the back. Tonks ripped off the covering and then stood as if rooted to the floor.

"Come on, Tonks," urged Harry impatiently, with the wire beginning to cut into his hand. "Help me get it over to the wall, will you."

"Harry, that's not just any headmaster, that's Godric Gryffindor," Tonks admiringly observed.

"In the flesh - well actually not," commented the founder of Harry's house. "Next time, I'll thank you not to keep me in the dark for so long. I can't look after you if I can't look at you."

"Sorry, sir," Harry apologised, still shocked that he evidently rated Gryffindor himself.

"You must understand that I can't be here very long or very often, because my spirit must pass between hundreds of portraits," the image of the great man explained. "However, you may call on me if there is something urgent, using a special appearance charm. Pay attention…."

"Should I take notes?" Harry asked, reaching for a handy Biro and a scrap of paper.

"Suit yourself," the Founder shrugged. "This spell requires you to burn three hundredth-weights of Floo powder under my portrait - no more, or I'm prone to sneeze - then point your wand at the centre and … say, are you trained in silent spell casting yet?"

"Er … not much, sir," Harry answered.

"Then say, `Aparecium portratus,'" Gryffindor instructed. "And enough of this `sir' business. I'm no stuffed shirt, you know."

"Yes sir," said Harry, still with more than a touch of awe in his voice. "Mr. Gryffindor, do you know that I used your sword … er … to kill a Basilisk?"

"I certainly do," confirmed Gryffindor, "as I had to decide whether to send the sword to you. That was not just any Basilisk either. It was Salazar's personal pet. That was just one of a number of positively unforgivable things that he did. I had been trying for a thousand years to find some way to do away with it, and finally you became my instrument…."

"Oops!"

THUNK.

"OUCH!" squawked the portrait. "Hey, be more careful there! That's my wand arm…."

Poor Godric. Tonks had backed into the foot of Harry's bed whilst trying to move the picture towards the wall. She had fallen onto the bed and dropped her end of the portrait, which banged heavily into the floor on its upper right-hand corner.

An irritable Godric Gryffindor ignored Tonks and concluded, "You have the right stuff, Potter. That's why I urged Dumbledore to give you my portrait. Now, since I'm currently in more danger of being damaged by this walking disaster area than you are, I must be off."

"Hey! I'm not that bad!" Tonks yelled at the portrait. "Just a mite clumsy…."

With no interest in learning how clumsy Tonks was, the image of Godric Gryffindor departed, muttering something about a "menace," and left an empty frame behind.

It occurred to Harry that the Order was now naught for two with his relatives. He asked Tonks, "Do you think Dumbledore can send somebody a little more to my Uncle's liking next time…? Maybe somebody like Remus?" I haven't seen…."

CRASH!!

The question was barely out of his mouth when Tonks accidentally kicked the corner of Harry's desk, lost her balance and careened into Hedwig's cage (which, to be fair, was largely obscured by Harry's invisibility cloak), sending them keeling over. The now empty Gryffindor portrait fell to the floor, and nearly ripped on the corner of Harry's trunk.

"R-R-Remus … did you say?" Tonks moaned from a heap on the floor. "Why … that would be wonderful - except there's a full moon coming up…. And he's travelling all the time…. And he works too bloody hard…. But I'll see what I can do."

Tonks bade Harry farewell only a short while later.

Promptly he sent a note to Dumbledore asking for only "respectable Muggle" impersonators from now on. He was almost dumbfounded by the idea that Godric Gryffindor himself had been involved in making life-or-death decisions about him in his Second Year.

Once again he resorted to physical exercise to escape mental turmoil.

First, he got Dudley to help him hang poor Godric; then he went outside to do some chores.

After several more hours of gardening to earn Muggle money, Harry decided that the Cadbury offer looked very good indeed, but that he wanted payment in pounds, not Galleons. As soon as the guardianship papers were finalized, he would have Bill, and whichever solicitor Bill chose, negotiate a deal with Cadbury.

Turning to other things Muggle, Harry also finished the remaining chapters on electricity that night. The last assigned chapter, on how electricity functioned in the human nervous system, had been very interesting, and Harry now had a good idea why Dumbledore had wanted him to read this material in anticipation of intensive magical training at the Ministry. The later chapters - about various technical things like transistors and nuclear power - looked far less inviting, and Harry was relieved Dumbledore had not assigned them.

Harry had some difficulty with his meditation that night. He was twitchier than usual in anticipation of his visit to the Ministry tomorrow morning, especially after what Dumbledore had told him about the direction his fame had been headed of late. But he had other reasons to be on tenterhooks. He knew that the Headmaster would be meeting with the Grangers tomorrow, and he was worried about whether that meeting would yield a favourable outcome. Harry was no believer in any religion, but he briefly addressed himself to whatever deities might be out there with a silent prayer for the Headmaster's success.

Harry awoke to the harsh sounds of his alarm clock at 5:30 the next morning. Before he knew it, there was a small popping noise and Harry felt himself being showered with bits of the clock. Harry groaned and smiled at the same time. He was getting better at wandless, silent magic, but with the ability to do it, came the need to control it. He found his wand. "Reparo," he mumbled, and the alarm clock reassembled, once again serenading Harry with its dulcet tones. He turned it off and started preparing himself. Harry had left himself plenty of time to get to Mrs. Figg's. He was not about to be late.

Less than an hour later, Harry was making his way to Mrs. Figg's house at Number Seven under the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father. Not being entirely sure what he would be expected to do, he wore his best (only) set of dress robes - but under them he was clad in Muggle jeans and his constellation T-shirt. At Mrs. Figg's, Harry met Bill, who was to escort him to the Ministry.

"Very well," Bill began. "The Ministry wants us to ask each other personal questions to confirm each other's true identity. I suppose I'll start. Tell me how I first met Fleur?

It was a good question, since nobody but Harry would know the answer. "You two first met at the relatives' reception before the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament," Harry answered confidently.

"Right in one," Bill cheerfully confirmed.

"My turn," Harry continued slyly. "Why weren't you wearing your fang earring when I last saw you?"

"Harry, this is Ministry mandated security, not truth or dare," Bill answered testily. With his ears reddening, he delicately indicated, "As you have probably guessed, you interrupted the two of us during an intimate moment."

Seeing Harry smirk, Bill assumed his guardian role. "That brings me to rule number one: Thou shalt not make uninvited inquiry into your guardian's romantic affairs."

"Yessir," Harry responded, still smiling.

"Now I need to go to the Ministry anyway," Bill continued. "I have to file the completed guardianship papers, but before I do, I want you to understand something, because this relationship can still be voided by either of us. You must accept that the role you've asked me to play is that of a surrogate parent - I'm not here to be a surrogate brother. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yessir," Harry answered, no longer smiling.

"Whilst we will, of course, consult and discuss matters in a civilised fashion, my being your guardian means that, when I make a decision, you are expected to comply - even if you don't like it. If you can't do that, tell me now."

"I can do that," the boy agreed in a soft voice.

"This is important, because I've heard everyone from Dumbledore to Ginny talk about how you have a `certain disregard for the rules,'" Bill explained. "I want you to understand from the outset that when I set a rule, it's a real rule, and not something that's optional."

Harry sighed, but answered affirmatively, "I'll do that…. I promise."

Today's journey to the Ministry was considerably more comfortable than either of the two times Harry had gone there before. He neither used the run down visitors' entrance from Muggle London nor rode some maniacal beast. From Mrs. Figg's fireplace, they travelled by Floo powder, so all Harry had to tolerate was some soot. That was certainly preferable to either a graffiti-scarred telephone box or a flying, flesh-eating demon-horse. Harry was expected this time, and they flooed in via the Aurors' entrance.

The reception Harry received was worthy of a visiting head of state. Indeed, the ministers of magic of smaller countries like Luxembourg, Albania, or Djibouti would not have drawn anywhere near the amount of Auror interest that Harry did. The "official" welcome party consisted of Chief Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, Kingsley Shacklebolt, three other Aurors Harry did not recognise - as well as two Unspeakables who never identified themselves, and another person who said only that he represented the Muggle intelligence service MI-5. Beyond that, however, another fifteen or twenty people who worked in the general area were milling about. It looked like a scene from outside the winners' locker room after the Quidditch World Cup. Waiting for Harry…. They were all waiting for him….

Bill brought the boy of the hour into the anteroom. Everyone moved forward, some more quickly than others, to get a glimpse (or more) of the fifteen-year-old wizard whom the Daily Prophet had been touting as "the first hero of the second war," and even "the Chosen One," for the past several weeks. Harry was embarrassed to find himself asked for autographs by wizards and witches several times older than he was.

Chief Scrimgeour, a fierce looking man with a great mane of rapidly greying locks almost as untamable as Harry's, greeted the boy. "Harry Potter, I'm most pleased to welcome you to our Auror Candidate School. You will receive an accelerated course of instruction concerning many of the subjects that our usual recruits are taught. I hope you don't find it too much to handle. Your guide and mentor will be Captain Shacklebolt…."

"Call me Shak," the auburn Auror remarked, far more informally than his superior officer did.

"Your serious training will begin tomorrow," Scrimgeour continued, ignoring the interruption. "You will be instructed by a team of four handpicked trainers. Today is simply for intake and a little basic orientation. After that you will be debriefed by the inquiry into the events at the Ministry. In the afternoon the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge will meet with you in the Succession Room, which if you don't know, serves as the Minister's formal office. My orders are to have you there in time for a meeting to begin promptly at 2:00 p.m…."

As Scrimgeour droned on about what was to come, Harry got the sense that he would be receiving much of the same training in spellwork and various forms of practical magic that official Auror candidates received. The difference was that Harry was expected to learn everything in a little over two months, instead of the usual nine-month instructional course that Auror recruits received before being released to their probationary field training.

Concentrated education, Harry knew, had never been his strongest suit. His mind quickly wandered to a certain someone whose strong suit seemed to be any kind of education. He made a mental note to use the communicator that evening to ask Dumbledore about his meeting with the Grangers.

When Scrimgeour finished with his introductory spiel, it was 7:30. Harry had a little more than two hours to complete Auror intake before beginning a debriefing that would last at least a couple of hours. Then there was this mysterious meeting with Minister Fudge. If Harry were lucky, he would get a maybe an hour of actual instruction before returning home at 5:00 p.m. Bill accompanied him to the intake area so that both of them could get fitted for Auror partner rings.

These rings were definitely high-tech magic. Aurors worked in pairs, and each member of a pair had a charmed ring that allowed his or her partner to locate and identify the other's aura instantly. The charm worked in the dark and was unaffected by disguises, invisibility cloaks, or even an Incognitus transfiguration. Using a variant of the Four Point spell, partners could locate one another's rings - and thus each other - at a distance. It was necessary, however, to scan both partners' auras at the outset to activate the charmed rings. Harry was not an Auror, so he had to pick a non-Auror partner. As his guardian, Bill was the logical choice.

After Bill left, Harry's first stop was to obtain his Ministry-issue equipment from the Auror quartermasters. Shak escorted him down a long hallway, painted a drab greyish green. The monotony was broken only by faded and Spellotaped posters bearing sloganistic exhortations ("Practice Elementary Wand Safety," "Do Not Apparate for 24 Hours After Giving Blood," "Death Eaters Can Strike At Any Time. Always Wear Your Partner Ring."). Along the hallway was a row of windows. A witch or wizard charged with dispensing a particular type of gear occupied each window. The drill required Harry to stop at each window successively, and he became increasingly laden with training equipment. He received:

• Two sets of standard dark grey Auror training robes, one fireproof and one waterproof;

• Auror footwear that never became untied and which was traction-charmed to permit the wearer to stand, walk, and run normally on almost any solid surface, even wet ice;

• Several pairs of wick-dry, thermal controlled socks;

• Dragon hide gloves;

• A dragon hide spell-resistant vest;

• A charmed belt with five expandable storage spots;

• A portable clamshell combination Foe-Glass and mini-Sneakoscope;

• A jock strap charmed to repel or absorb physical blows (female Aurors were issued anti-rape knickers instead);

• An unbreakable athletic band for his glasses, that only Harry could remove;

• A yarmulke functioning as a hard hat;

• A wrist holster for his wand, that Harry could make invisible at will;

• A charmed spare wand container, shaped like a cigar holder, used as a suppository (Shak warned Harry that this piece of equipment "took some getting used to");

• A knife, similar to the present from Sirius that Harry had ruined in the Department of Mysteries, that could open doors and untie knots - but including a set of cutlery that could detect all common poisons;

• A broom identification kit that, when attached to the user's broom, prevented anyone else from using it (except for sweeping) by spraying the offender with ethanethiol;

• A magical first aid kit containing a wide range of curative potions for broken bones, sprains, open wounds, fevers and other maladies, as well as poultices for healing curse and hex marks;

• A collapsible cauldron for field potions brewing;

• The Auror's Handbook of Offensive and Defensive Magic, and an accompanying workbook on silent spell-casting;

• The Auror's Guide to Survival Magic, primarily devoted to functioning in harsh wilderness environments; and

• Ancient Magic for Modern Times, primarily devoted to wandless and persistent magic.

At the last window Harry was given an Aural Pensieve, which resembled an old fashioned down pillow in a case emblazoned with brocaded runes. Two long antennae extended rather droopily from it. Whilst Harry at least had a general idea of what his other equipment was supposed to do, this thing stumped him entirely. He stared blankly at this final acquisition. Seeing his perplexity, Shak explained. "You're to receive the accelerated course of instruction, using your books only for in-class reference. Outside class you really won't need the books, as books. Unlike most of your equipment, which stays in your wardrobe, this goes home with you."

"Uh-huh," Harry nodded, still wondering what the thing was.

"All of your homework reading will take place as you sleep using this special Pensieve," Shak explained some more. "Instead of complete memories, the pillow contains sounds - the sounds of the lessons being read. Before you go to sleep, tap the pillow with your wand, state the number of the lesson you have been assigned. Then lie on the pillow and insert the knobs on the end of the antennae in your ears. A regular Pensieve shows you visual memories, but the Aural Pensieve implants memories with sound alone. Whilst you are asleep, the lesson will be transferred directly to your brain and implanted in your long-term memory."

Harry received a wardrobe in the Auror training area for stowing his gear. Shak then led Harry through double doors labeled "Candidate Evaluation." There he was given a vision test. His wand was tested, as were his magical reflexes. Harry was photographed. His aura was recorded (again). A set of his fingerprints were taken, as was a sample of his hair. Then Harry was given a very brief physical examination.

Finally, he was led and into a large room that contained an old fashioned copper steam boiler attached to several pipes and gauges. Shak explained: "Harry, this is where we measure your baseline magical power. This boiler has been in use for over 100 years. It contains exactly 379 litres [100 imperial gallons] of distilled water at a temperature of 20 degrees Celsius. Each candidate Auror uses a simple spell to heat the water in the boiler. You apply the spell for ten minutes. This gauge (he pointed to a small dial at the base of the boiler) measures how much water is left in the boiler after you are finished. The gauge in the corner (he pointed to a more elaborately calibrated black gauge) measures the total force of the steam generated by your spell. The spell is pronounced "Celsio" and is commenced by an upward flick of the wand after which you keep it trained on the target. You may stand anywhere along this arc, which is five metres from the boiler. Hold the spell until the buzzer sounds. You may begin when you are ready, excuse me…."

Shak had a brief conversation with a man in the corner of the room, whom Harry recognised as one of the nameless Department of Mysteries representatives. When Shak returned, he was carrying a device, on a strap, about the size of a paperback book. "Harry, this is somewhat a departure from normal, but I have a request from the Department of Mysteries that you wear this device whilst performing the test. I cannot go into details, but the device measures your output and conductivity."

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"I cannot tell you," said Shak. "All I know is that this is Department of Mysteries business and therefore highly confidential - even from me. You don't have to do it. It is totally your choice."

Harry mulled the situation over, and agreed to wear the device. He stood at the line, and took a deep breath. Harry used his concentration techniques to clear his mind and focus entirely on the boiler. He pronounced the spell, flicking his wand as shown and aiming it squarely at the boiler. His wand emitted conical reddish light that made contact with an area of boiler about a metre in diameter.

Harry closed his eyes to better concentrate, conjuring up the mental image of himself pushing beads of light along a golden thread during his duel with Voldemort not much more than a year before. Not long afterwards, Harry heard the satisfying low hiss of escaping steam. The hiss steadily rose in pitch until he had the boiler whistling like a teakettle. It was a difficult spell to maintain. Harry soon felt bone-wearying tiredness, but through sheer force of will managed to continue until at last he heard the buzzer.

Harry fell to his knees as he ended the spell, sweating profusely, his breathing ragged and heavy. He was only semi-conscious as he felt strong arms gripping his shoulders and lifting him to his feet, and another set of arms removing the mystery device. Harry opened his eyes and saw Shak's broadly smiling face. "Excellent, Harry," he boomed. The boiler contains only 33 litres of water; you boiled over 90% of it away. You produced almost 30 thousand kilocalories of heat energy in ten minutes. That's better than I did when I was in your place. Your magical power is in the highest 5% of our applicants."

An equally upbeat technician approached Harry, and gave him what looked like a parchment version of a cash register tape with various figures on it. Shak continued, "Here are the written results of your power test. This is for you to keep." The Auror's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "If I were you, I would show this to your Head of House. I have reason to believe that she would be very interested to see these results."

After additional discussion of his training schedule, Harry received his first homework assignment. Then it was time to shower and change back into his dress robes. He found that he liked the Auror's shower room very much. Each shower had five showerheads that moved and directed their flow, as commanded, to wherever he requested. One of the perks of being an Auror, he thought.

The debriefing took place in a conference room on the uppermost floor that was charmed to appear as if it had a breathtaking view of central London. Shak accompanied Harry to the room, where the Chairman of the Board of Inquiry, Mad-Eye Moody, welcomed him ("Good to have yeh on board, Potter. Now we just might get ta the bottom of things."). Mad-Eye introduced the other three Aurors, Clifton Branstone, Quimby Quirke, and Theodora Doddinghurst. They were most interested in the "breakdowns in security" that had allowed first the Death Eaters and then Harry's rescue party access to the Ministry long after it should have been closed to outsiders. The two Unspeakables never identified themselves, and never explained their interest, but told Harry to call them "Smith" and "Jones." The Muggle from MI-5, Sean Moore, was a security expert especially interested in determining if any of the Death Eaters were in league with Muggle terrorist groups.

The debriefing took hours, as Mad-Eye required Harry to go into excruciating detail about every aspect of not only what he did whilst in the Ministry, but also the run up to it. Many times Harry could not tell whether his information was of the slightest value, but occasionally there were exchanges between his interlocutors indicating that they had learned something useful. For example, the Ministry wards, whilst able to detect brooms, Apparition, and various Muggle transportation devices, were incapable of detecting animals, since use of animals to travel was considered archaic. By using Thestrals to get to the Ministry, Harry and his friends had been able to land only a few feet from the entrance completely undetected.

As Harry described everything he remembered about the events at the Ministry, he mentioned the brain room and Ron's close encounter with one of the brains. Both Smith and Jones tensed visibly when they heard this, and their follow-up questions indicated that they, at least, had been unaware that anyone had physically come into contact with a brain. `A bad sign,' Harry thought. He was worried that Ron might be worse off than he, Harry, had previously believed.

Although they were very guarded in what they revealed, Harry learned from the Unspeakables that Ron had been struck early on in the battle with the Death Eaters by some sort of spell that impaired his higher faculties (an Intoxicans Hex or possibly an Idiotus Jinx, they speculated). Physically touching - let alone grabbing - any of those brains was a very, very bad idea. Any physical contact triggered certain "security features" that neither Smith nor Jones was at liberty to discuss, or even to identify. They warned darkly that the effects of these features on a target, which is what Ron had become, were potentially long lasting and characterised by unpredictable sequelae.

The Aurors also wanted a blow-by-blow account of every spell, curse, and hex that each Death Eater had cast - regardless of the intended recipient. At times this portion of the debriefing resembled a macabre scouting report. Harry had the sense that the Aurors were most interested in the tendencies, powers, and weaknesses of possible duelling opponents, as if sizing up opposing members of a Quidditch team. `These Aurors don't need me, they need Lee Jordan,' Harry thought. Mad-Eye, on the other hand, kept up a running commentary critiquing Harry's performance and suggesting alternate hexes that he might have used.

This lightest part of a rather sombre meeting came to an abrupt end when Harry described Antonin Dolohov's silently cast slashing purple flame that felled Hermione and later grazed Harry as it had glanced off his partially formed Protego Charm. Harry went through the sequence and description three times in response to ever more detailed inquiries, including from "Smith" and "Jones," who had heretofore remained silent throughout the discussion of Death Eater spells. Not even Professor Snape had examined Harry's potions more minutely.

Smith and Jones asked for a break and discussed things with the others out of Harry's earshot. Quirke and Branstone then left, whilst everyone else took a quick lunch break. The wizards passed around plates and called out their lunch orders. Harry, who had gone without magically prepared food since leaving Hogwarts, broke into his first grin since the debriefing began. From an extensive menu, he ordered pasta e fagioli and fettuccine Alfredo.

Mad-Eye, as was his habit, spurned the Aurors' menu entirely and produced a personally prepared brown-bag lunch and his hip flask.

Quirke and Branstone returned about fifteen minutes later, accompanied by two of the most physically imposing wizards Harry had ever seen - this side of Hagrid, that is. These two brawny brutes were wheeling an extremely large, extremely old book chained to a trolley. They brought it to a halt in the front of the room and stood on either side of the book, arms crossed, muscles bulging, looking menacing. Even Mad-Eye stopped what he was doing and watched with rapt attention.

Quirke told Harry that this was the Book of Merlin, Merlin's own master spell book. It was the only one of its kind in existence and had been continually updated for well over a millennium as new spells were invented. The Book was the most valuable manuscript in wizarding Britain, if not the world. Harry was one of the few non-Ministry personnel who had ever laid eyes upon it. Even Mad-Eye had never seen it in person before. Branstone instructed Harry that he was going to tap the Book three times with his wand whilst saying a secret silent spell. After that, Harry was to recite everything he could remember about Dolohov's curse.

Harry did as he was told. A slight breeze came up as the pages of the Book of Merlin flipped by themselves, first this way and then the other as he added more details. When he stopped speaking, the pages stopped turning. After making the wand movement that Harry associated with Finite, Branstone approached the book. "The Dark Fire of Tu Fan," he announced. Reading from the Book of Merlin, Branstone described a curse that had originated in Tibet over a thousand years ago. It first appeared in Europe as one of the spells brought back from the Orient by that noted traveller, linguist (and wizard), Marco Polo.

The Dark Fire was a killing curse, far older but not as powerful as Avada kedavra. It operated by overloading the nervous system, causing autonomic breakdown and resulting in cessation of breathing and heartbeat. It was an emotion-based spell and because of that the Ministry classified it as Schedule I illegal magic. Use of the Dark Fire had never become widespread in Europe. It was more complicated than most other deadly curses, and far more difficult to learn than Avada kedavra (also, few European wizards could speak Tibetan).

The one major advantage of the Dark Fire was that it is almost the only deadly curse that could be performed silently. Even Avada kedavra had never been successfully adapted to silent magic. Nevertheless, the silent version of the Dark Fire was not as powerful as when the full Tibetan incantation is recited.

Whilst Branstone was still speaking, Quirke whispered something into the ear of one of the massive guards. The guard nodded and the two of them started to wheel the Book of Merlin away. "Wait just a minute there, boys," called out Mad-Eye Moody. "I want ta see the description of this spell fer myself." Since Mad-Eye was Chairman of the Board of Inquiry, none of the Aurors could raise a valid objection, although they all looked rather timorous at the prospect of the volatile ex-Auror so close to such an irreplaceable object.

Mad-Eye approached the Book of Merlin and gently, almost reverently, placed his hands on its pages. He studied the entry with such concentration that Harry wondered if Mad-Eye would have heard had he called out. The old man was plainly trying to absorb more than just the words - he seemed to be connecting with the aura of the Book itself.

Abruptly, Mad-Eye nodded to nobody in particular and stepped back from the Book. "Potter, pay attention," he growled. Moody whirled around, his wand out, and silently performed the same slashing motion that Dolohov had used. A line of light purple flame shot from Mad-Eye's wand. The flame passed over a folding table, the wall and the faux window on the far side of the room. The wall smoked slightly, the window was etched, and after about ten seconds, the table collapsed, inconveniently spilling the remains of their lunch across the floor.

"That look like the genuine article," Potter?" Mad-Eye asked, and then took a swig from his flask. Harry nodded affirmatively, amazed at how anyone could master a spell like that in only a couple of minutes. "One question answered then," Mad-Eye pronounced. "Potter, yeh and yer friend are exceedingly lucky that Dolohov was impaired when yeh encountered him. Hate ta say it, but if he'd been at full strength, I seriously doubt that either of yeh would have survived."

In an eerie reprise of the professorial style that he had never had the opportunity to actually use at Hogwarts, Mad-Eye explained, for Harry's benefit, the distinction between emotion-based and power-based spells. Emotion-based spells required the user to in the proper emotional state of mind for the spell to work properly. The stronger the emotion (provided it was the correct one), the better the spell worked. An emotion-based spell affecting the nervous system could even cause affinities because of its effect on the brain. An affinity was a magically created connection of some kind between two people that was usually secondary to a dangerous or illegal spell.

The most well known emotion-based spell was the Cruciatus curse. It was notorious for giving rise to affinities between people victimised by the curse either simultaneously or in quick succession. Because Death Eaters often cursed entire families at once, Cruciatus-based affinities had been widely studied by wizard healers. Mad-Eye was about to launch into a discussion of the Longbottoms when Smith and Jones interrupted - signalling that this subject was better not discussed at this time.

Affinities created by the Dark Fire were had never been studied in any systematic fashion. Not only was that curse much rarer, it was usually fatal - an adverse effect that, of course, prevented any other symptoms from being studied. There were only a few vague examples mentioned in the literature.

"What … what about my link to Voldemort?" Harry asked, putting the cat amongst the pigeons. That question prompted a general discussion that even the Unspeakables joined enthusiastically. Jones explained, "Avada kedavra is a power-based curse, not an emotion-based one, but it's rather unique in a number of ways."

Quimby added, "It's hard to say, but conceivably the Killing Curse could create a strong affinity between the user and the victim, or even between successive victims."

"I'll bet it's hard ta say," Moody added a bit sarcastically, "seeing as how everyone - saving Harry here - ends up dead as a result. That's a bit of an impediment ta future study."

"How does it work?" Harry had to ask.

"Avada kedavra operates by withdrawing all electrical energy from the body. That instantaneously shuts down the nervous system, causing universal cellular apoptosis, and thus instant death without any apparent injury," Theodora Doddinghurst explained authoritatively.

`Must be a healer,' Harry speculated to himself, not understanding half of what she said.

Mad-Eye added, "The killing curse was relatively recently developed. The first documented public use was only in 1921."

Doddinghurst further observed that Harry's own case "had prompted some healers to speculate about Avada kedavra-based affinities - but because you are a unique case, it has never been possible to do anything more than speculate. Everyone else hit with the Killing Curse has, of course, died."

"Are there any emotion-based curses that aren't considered Dark Magic?" Harry asked.

"Well, there's the Cheering Charm," Mad-Eye answered. "That's an emotion-based spell of a lower order that…."

"That's all well and good, but we do have work to do," Smith cut across.

"Yes, if we don't get back on track, we'll never finish before Mister Potter has to leave," Jones added.

The two Unspeakables thus intervened in order to keep Mad-Eye from setting out on another tangent. As much as Harry wanted to learn more about this fascinating aspect of magic, if they failed to return to the business at hand they would not be finished before Harry's audience with Minister Fudge - and Fudge did not like to be kept waiting.

The meeting continued, with Harry asked for his opinions about security in the Ministry. There was the obvious fact that a dozen Death Eaters had penetrated not only the Ministry, but also the ordinarily top secret Department of Mysteries, without being detected in the slightest. Harry pointed out what he thought were additional problems with the visitors' entrance and with the lifts.

Smith and Jones focused their inquiry on Harry's visions. They were very interested in them - especially the last - because what Harry saw was only known to relatively few. One or more of those few were now suspected of being in league with Voldemort.

It was this interest that caused Smith and Jones, whilst not trying to be disagreeable, to put Harry through the most unpleasant encounter of the day. They needed to find out exactly how badly the Department of Mysteries had been compromised prior to the invasion. Not only was this inquiry necessary in its own right, but the information could also be of great value in possibly identifying the insider who had provided the Death Eaters with information.

In order to access every detail of the false vision that Voldemort had insinuated into Harry's brain, the two Unspeakables had to use Legilimency. Mad-Eye was not going to stop the Unspeakables from trying, but he gruffly informed Smith and Jones that he expected Harry would be a "tougher nut to crack" than they thought.

Harry reluctantly agreed, but after so many defensive lessons in Occlumency, he was unable to relax and let the process proceed without resistance. Several times, he let loose with spontaneous magic that left the acrid smell of ozone behind. In the worst incident, a Furnunculus-like curse of some sort knocked Jones flat on his back and left his face covered with Christmas tree worms for several minutes. Both Smith and Jones were quite the worse for wear before they obtained the memory they needed.

Due to Harry's newfound and somewhat surprising resistance, the debriefing's foray into Legilimency took considerable time. At a quarter to two, Shak appeared to bring the debriefing to a reluctant end and to take Harry to Minister Fudge's office suite. Mad-Eye offered Harry the gratitude of the Board of Inquiry, and left Harry with an emblematic "Constant vigilance!" reminder ringing in his ears. After getting Harry cleaned up from the gruelling Legilimency session, Shak performed a Disillusionment Charm in order to avoid subjecting him to any more staring crowds.

Minister Fudge greeted Harry somewhat awkwardly in his enormous ceremonial office. He bustled about with the artificial warmth that Harry had by now come to associate with politicians and their hangers-on when they were trying to impress someone. Nevertheless, mindful of Dumbledore's instructions, Harry played along, determined not to let his true emotions get the better of him.

The Minister "trusted" that Harry was finding his current media portrayals "more to your liking" than those he had experienced prior to the "imbroglio" at the Ministry.

Harry never mentioned that he had not even been taking the Daily Prophet.

Fudge apologised profusely for being "wrongheaded" and "misguided" in his prior refusal to accept the reality of Voldemort's return.

Harry refrained from mentioning Fudge's attempts to expel him from Hogwarts and to jail Dumbledore for something Harry had done.

After a few more pleasantries, Minster Fudge started fumbling about looking for something on his large, paper-strewn desk - apparently some document that he wanted Harry to see. His eyes following the Minister's hands across the desk, Harry noticed a folder, facing away from him so that he had to try to read it upside down. The folder said something about testimony by Lucius Malfoy. Harry wished that this had been the document Fudge wanted him to read, - at least it would have made interesting reading. Red-faced and defeated, the Minister finally yelled to an aide Harry could not see to "bring me another copy of the press release."

The aide did so.

Smiling broadly, Fudge intoned unctuously, "Congratulations, Harry. What you and your friends did in defence of the Ministry and of our society was unprecedented, and for that you will receive unprecedented recognition. The Wizard Council has decided to award you the Order of Merlin, Second Class. The award is for organising fellow students to prevent Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters from stealing secret information from the Department of Mysteries, and also for your role in capturing eleven Death Eaters - four of whom had had recently escaped from Azkaban. Each of your five compatriots will receive the Order of Merlin Third Class for his or her efforts. Please appreciate that the Order of Merlin has never before been awarded to any underage wizard."

Harry quickly scanned the document Fudge presented him:

For Immediate Release - June 29, 1996

Minister of Magic Cornelius Oswald Fudge announced today the decision of the Wizarding Council to award the Order of Merlin, Second Class to Harry Potter for his conspicuous gallantry on the night of June 11-12, 1996, in organising a expeditionary force of five fellow Hogwarts students. This force thwarted He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and twelve of his followers (Death Eaters) from stealing highly classified information from the Department of Mysteries, on the Ninth Floor of the Ministry of Magic in London.

Each of the five other students - whose identities are not being released pending parental notification - will receive the Order of Merlin, Third Class for his or her part in the successful defence of the Ministry. This defence brought about the capture of eleven of twelve Death Eaters and the flight of the Dark Lord himself. Four of the captured Death Eaters were among those who had recently escaped from Azkaban. In view of the number of Death Eaters taken prisoner, the Council also voted to award 2,000 Galleons to each of the six students.

"These decorations are unprecedented, in that no student or other underage wizard has ever had the Order conferred," declared Minister Fudge. "However, they are equally well-deserved, as these students demonstrated pre-eminent bravery in the course of defeating the forces of darkness in the first battle of what will undoubtedly be a long and hard-fought war. Let their efforts serve as an example to us all that the Dark Lord and his evil minions can, have, and will be defeated."

In addition, the same session of the Council decided to confer an Order of Merlin bar upon Albus Dumbledore, who already holds the Order of Merlin, First Class.

Details of the ceremony at which the Orders of Merlin will be conferred have yet to be finalized, but it will in all likelihood take place at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry some time this autumn.

"I don't deserve this," said Harry flatly. "I was tricked and led my friends into a trap. All of us almost got killed. If not for Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, we would have been dead. If anybody deserves such an award, they do, not me."

"The Council is also awarding Dumbledore a bar upon his previous Order of Merlin for his personal duel with Voldemort," Fudge hastily added. "As for the Aurors and the Order, they were doing their duty."

"My godfather, Sirius Black, was wrongly convicted of murder - without a trial. He risked his freedom coming to my rescue and got killed," responded Harry. "He did a lot more than anyone's idea of duty. Remus Lupin is a werewolf, who can't find a decent job because of the discriminatory laws you've passed. I can't speak for the others, but I can't accept this in good conscience."

"But, Harry, you must," spluttered Fudge, rising from his chair and agitatedly wringing his hands. "You've just put your finger on why these awards properly belong to you and your friends. Your efforts are a symbol to us all that not only can You-Know-Who be defeated, but that ordinary persons can successfully defend themselves. Not everyone is an Albus Dumbledore, an Auror, or even a Sirius Black, but everyone can put up a fight if prepared for it. You showed that the Dark Forces could be defeated. We need that."

"I know all that," conceded Harry. "That's what's going on in the Prophet too, I reckon. Look, this is a big surprise. I wasn't prepared for anything like this. Dumbledore wants me to cooperate with you in any way I can to boost morale, so I'm not about to spoil this party. But I'm really uncomfortable with this. Perhaps if something was done for Sirius and Remus before the ceremony that you have planned in the autumn…. They don't deserve what they've received, and Sirius was the only real family I've ever had. I … I take his loss very personally, and I know he is innocent. I just want his name cleared. If that doesn't happen, I might well have second thoughts about this."

"Thank you, Harry, and well said," soothed Fudge. "I'll have you know that in recognition of Remus Lupin's efforts, I am planning to repeal the Werewolf Registration Act that caused him so many problems. Further, the Ministry is going to open a well-funded medical research effort against lycanthropy that will involve, among other places, Hogwarts. As for Mr. Black, I am not in the position to promise anything, except that as we speak a hard look is being given at the evidence upon which he was convicted and at other evidence that has since come to light. If the Wizengamot concludes that he was wrongly convicted, Mr. Black will be cleared."

"I really can't ask for more, thank you," responded Harry.

"Excellent," beamed Fudge. "Now let's face the press, shall we?"

"The … the … the press…?" stammered the boy. "Now?"

"Yes, of course," Fudge answered matter-of-factly. "What you just read is a press release. It is being distributed in the pressroom right now. I know the reporters are going to have some questions for you. Is there anything you'd like before we start - water, make-up, you name it, and it's yours. Personally I prepare with one shot of Ogdens' Old Firewhiskey," the Minister chuckled, removing a shot glass from a desk drawer and a hip flask from beneath his robes.

"Just … just … just some water and a chair," stammered Harry, his face as white as a sheet. "I've never done this before."

"Remember that you can say `no comment,' and refuse to answer any question you don't like," instructed Fudge with the lazy air of an old pro at handling the press. "They will ask a lot of stupid questions, many of which are personal and none of their business. It's best that you only let each reporter ask one question. That way nobody can follow up on anything you've said, since each reporter will have his or her own question already in mind. And to the extent you have been told by anybody that certain information is to remain a secret, you should of course not answer at all. Are you ready to go? It's through this door."

Nothing could have fully prepared Harry for the bedlam that marked his appearance. Alerted by a Ministry declaration that the Minister would have an "important announcement" later in the day, at least fifty wizard reporters were crammed into a room intended for only half that number. There was even a Muggle reporter with a badge indicating that he normally worked the Palace beat, although Harry had no idea why. The press conference was covered live by the Wizard's Wireless Network, which had set up bulky equipment that blocked the view from the left-hand side. Several photographers jostled for unobstructed shots, and one of them sprawled over four rows when a folding chair he had been standing on collapsed.

Harry felt he was almost literally being fed to the wolves as Minister Fudge made some brief opening remarks that did not go beyond the information in the press release, took no questions, and introduced him. The effect was electric. The reporters, given their first chance ever (except for one interview with Rita Skeeter) to ask him questions, ignored the Minister of Magic completely. After several minutes of pandemonium in which everyone shouted out questions at once, Harry pulled out his wand, shouted "Silencio," and then imposed order himself, going down the row one by one.

The questions began close to the topic at hand. Harry expressed his "gratitude" for the award of the Order of Merlin several times and praised his as yet unidentified cohorts effusively. His most serious concern was not to compromise any of the operational details of Ministry security, which resulted in a number of "no comments."

There was a dicey question about the contents of the prophecy that Voldemort had been trying to steal. Harry felt fortunate that he was aware of what was publicly known about the prophecy and what was still secret. He dodged the question with the response that the Ministry's record of the prophecy had been destroyed during the battle - which was true, but which also gave the desired false impression that the exact words of the prophecy were impossible to know. Another reporter asked him what, with the Order of Merlin already in hand, did he expect "when" (not if) he defeated Voldemort. He was flummoxed by that question, and responded, "I dunno, Order of the Garter, maybe? Disney World?"

Then the order of questioning came to the one reporter most familiar with Harry's personal situation, Ms. Skeeter:

"Is it true that the only fatality on either side was your godfather, the convicted murderer Sirius Black?" she asked.

Harry glared. "Yes, Sirius was killed in the battle, and he was my godfather. But he wasn't a murderer. He was innocent and was sent to Azkaban without a trial."

From this point on, the press conference became considerably more personal. Harry expressed confidence that Sirius would be cleared, and this comment was met by questions that suggested that he had a financial interest in that outcome. That question caught him unawares, and he laboured to answer, since he had to admit that the interest did in fact exist.

After the "serious journalists" representing ordinary news organisations had had their say, it was time for the more exotic publications. Some of these questions also proved difficult. The reporter from Teen Witches' Weekly asked Harry if it was true that his "girlfriend" had been seriously injured in the battle. He stammered badly, as first and foremost he was not going to say anything that could possibly jeopardise Hermione's return to Hogwarts. Finally, he answered, "No, I don't have a girlfriend, but I have a best friend who is a girl. All of us suffered some sort of serious injuries. I was hit with the same spell that she was, and I was also briefly possessed by Voldemort."

This answer (along with the one-question-per-reporter rule) had the intended effect of changing the subject. The collective shudder that went up when Harry used Voldemort's name was also part of it. Questioning about the possession brought out the fact that Voldemort had been unable to possess him for any significant period of time before being forced to leave by something within Harry that he could not name. This information left the impression that the boy was even more powerful than suggested in previously published accounts.

The last question before Harry had gone through all the reporters was the only one that caught him in an untruth: "I believe you misspoke before when you said that all of the students who accompanied you were seriously injured in the battle, isn't that correct?"

Harry did a doubletake, until he saw the questioner. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name and affiliation," he said.

"Xenophilius Lovegood, from The Quibbler." He replied.

"You are correct, sir," Harry said, as they shared an inside joke. "I misspoke. One of them was knocked out, but then required no further medical treatment."

Mr. Lovegood smiled and nodded silently at Harry. The older man had the confirmation he needed, and now knew that his own daughter was one of those to whom the Order of Merlin would be awarded. He was deeply proud of his most unusual child. Then Mr. Lovegood said:

"Oh, and I have one question for the Minister."

Fudge, who had hovered in the background throughout, had been on the verge of leaving. He abruptly stiffened at that statement. Fudge knew that he had no harsher - or, thankfully, more bizarre - critic than The Quibbler. "Yes, Mr. Lovegood," he said with exaggerated courteously.

"When will the Malfoy transcripts be made available to the public?"

Minister Fudge sighed and swallowed as he took his time with his answer. Most of the reporters had stopped paying attention and were packing up to leave. Fudge was in no mood to stop them. He answered, "My understanding is that the transcripts might be available as early as this afternoon, from the usual source." Fudge then declared the press conference over and beckoned Harry back to his office.

"Harry, you were magnificent," Fudge bubbled. "Casting Silencio over the entire press corps to begin the conference. I'll have to remember that one myself, but I'm not at all sure that I could get away with that. Where did you get that capital idea?"

Harry laughed, "I've seen one of my best friends' mother do that to her children when they wouldn't be quiet at the dinner table. When I first got up there, and everybody was shouting at once, I was at a loss what to do. That was the first thing that came to mind."

"Excellent," chortled Fudge. "The press as unruly children. Harry, you are destined for greatness. Someday, I wouldn't be surprised if you sit where I do now."

"Thank you, sir," replied Harry, "but I don't think I would last very long in your line of work. Even when they're on your side, these reporters are such blithering idiots. I can't believe that, after what I've been through, somebody would suggest that I want to clear Sirius' name because of some damn money."

"Harry," sighed Fudge, "the press is motivated by only one thing - to sell its peculiar product. Anything scandalous, be it money, sex, drinking, you name it, the press will chase it. You know that already. Just remember those Rita Skeeter stories a year ago. And believe me, nobody sympathises with you more than I do. I've been hit with just about everything in their repertoire. Why, I've even been accused of killing goblins for pleasure."

"Yes, I remember that one," said Harry. "Even though I was inclined at the time to believe everything bad that anyone said about you, I couldn't believe that."

"Harry, I said it before and I'll say it again. I was stupid and stubborn in not believing you and Dumbledore, and I hope you accept my apology. I also apologise for pushing you out in front of the press like I did, on such short notice. But I had no choice, once the Council approved the awards. You simply can't keep anything like that a secret around here for very long. It's a simple fact of life that the Ministry leaks like a sieve to the press. It always has and always will. I thought you deserved to hear about these honours officially from me first, since it was my idea to award them. Having some reporter ring you up with no warning is hardly the way to go. I thought it best to get it all over at once."

"Perhaps it was," said Harry noncommittally.

"Oh, and Harry, I've been in touch with the Head of the Department of Education, and whilst I can't reveal details, I want to say that the O.W.L. performance that you and Miss Granger turned in was spectacular. It will give me something to boast about to the other Ministers for the rest of the year. I was Head Boy at Hogwarts myself, and between your grades, the Triwizard Championship, and the Order of Merlin, I'm sure you know that you're a shoe in for that position - as is Miss Granger. But if there's anything I can do to help you out, all you have to do is ask. You deserve as much after all the trouble I recently put you through."

"Whatever will come, will come," said Harry, not really wanting that kind of "help." "I'd rather have your help in making sure Hermione comes back - and also in clearing my godfather's name, since he died rescuing me."

"Harry, I will try my best," the Minister affirmed. "Miss Granger's situation is essentially a Hogwarts issue, and I have learned my lesson from last term. I'm leaving Hogwarts matters to the Headmaster. But if it becomes necessary, I will authorise the use of any magic necessary to ensure her return. Whatever authority Dumbledore requires in this respect, he shall have."

"As for Mr. Black, you know better than anyone that I don't control the Wizengamot - I now thank Merlin for that in your case. But I do have some influence with some Wizengamot members. You've impressed me enough today that I am ready to use that influence on Sirius' behalf, even though that will make me look more foolish about what I did before than I already do right now. There are worse things, however, than looking foolish."

Fudge finished, "Anyway, Harry, I've kept you long enough. It's time for me to turn you back over to the Aurors. Let me show you to the door."

Harry, now feeling much more at ease with a very personable Minister Fudge, obligingly made ready to leave. As drained as he was from the shock of the award and the pressure of the press conference, he was still pinching himself about having a lengthy private meeting with the surprisingly affable head of the entire Wizarding government. He let Fudge shepherd him to the door…

More bedlam ensued when Harry went outside. As he exited Fudge's office with the Minister at his side, he briefly saw Shak, Tonks and three other Aurors - conspicuous in their dress dark maroon robes - before being blinded by the rapid-fire detonation of flashing cameras. The five Aurors were struggling to hold back a surging crowd that was pushing forward to touch, speak to, or simply see Harry. Spontaneously, the multitude broke into applause and shouts of admiration. And these were, Harry guessed, mostly Ministry employees.

Shak growled at Harry through gritted teeth whilst Fudge waved to the cameras, turned, and went back inside. "He had to do it this way, didn't he? No point in bothering with any Disillusionment Charm this time. Let's go, Harry."

Surrounded by a phalanx of five Aurors, Harry pushed through the pressing crowd, ignoring the shouts and requests for autographs. Harry was startled by a red flash and loud report from one of the Auror's wands. An instant later, torn and burned pieces of what was nevertheless recognisable as a woman's undergarment floated down around Harry.

"Can't be too careful," that Auror said. "I'm Hugo Halliburton. I'm going to be one of your instructors."

"You weren't by any chance trained by Mad-Eye Moody, were you?" asked Harry.

"Actually, I was," replied Hugo without a hint of sarcasm.

"Figures," said Harry. "What was that all about?"

"Somebody threw it at you," Hugo remarked with just the touch of a leer, "and I fought it off."

BANG.

"Another one," Halliburton stated humourlessly.

After a few minutes that seemed much longer, Harry and his entourage had made their way back to Auror headquarters. Harry was surprised that, even after escaping the crowd, the Aurors retained their grim faces. Harry turned to Auror Shacklebolt. "Shak, I didn't screw up at the press conference or anything, did I? Minister Fudge said I was very good."

Shak responded curtly. "Harry, you did just fine - better than any of us had any reason to expect under the circumstances. Fudge is the one who screwed up, a real corker."

Shak abruptly strode off. Hugo Halliburton quickly took his place, accompanied by a middle-aged witch with once jet-black hair now tinged with grey. "This is Camille Wrexham, another of your instructors," Hugo said introducing her. "We need to go over the programme with you."

Between the two of them they explained that Harry's training would group spells, charms, hexes, and curses by category, with at least a dozen related items to be learned each day. Tomorrow's training would involve disorientation, and he was to review the lesson on disorienting magic. The first part of each lesson would involve verbal casting, with nonverbal casting emphasised, to the extent Harry mastered it, in the second, more practical portion of the lesson. His succeeding lessons would involve shielding magic, then restraining magic, then concealment, then evasive manœuvres, then pain infliction, stealth and concealment, and so on and so on. By the time it was over, he would know literally hundreds of new spells, many of which were N.E.W.T. level or beyond.

As Hugo was taking him back to his wardrobe in the locker room, Harry saw Shak across the room speaking excitedly to, of all people, Arthur Weasley. Both of them looked upset. Mr. Weasley looked exhausted as well. Harry heard none of their actual conversation, and lost sight of them as Hugo repeated to him the explanation of how to use the Aural Pensieve - going so far as to physically hook the boy up to the device. When he was asleep the Pensieve would essentially read the relevant material directly to his brain.

"Sleep learning!" Harry marveled. "Won't Hermione be jealous...?" He stopped short, making another mental note to write to Dumbledore tonight about her situation, and also to inquire after her with Mr. Weasley, if he were still present. Harry looked around. He spotted Shak again, but he was now talking to Tonks. Both of them still looked very serious and troubled. Taking the bull by the horns, Harry approached them

"Shak, Tonks, what's going on? You, and just about everybody else, have been acting as if something is terribly awry ever since I've been back from Fudge's office. If I ballocksed something up, tell me, so I'll know not to do anything like it again."

"Harry," Shak said, his lips extremely tight, "like I told you before, you did nothing wrong. You were top notch. We were all listening to the Wireless. You didn't give up any classified information and your handling of those obnoxious reporters - especially your use of the Silencio spell - was far beyond your years. It's just…." Shak was clearly searching carefully for the right words, "…just that the entire thing should never have happened, particularly not now."

"I'm sorry I'm so thick, but I still don't understand what's so bad," pressed Harry. "Fudge said he liked the Silencio bit himself."

"He would," groused Tonks.

"All that means is that the Minister and I agree on one thing," muttered Shak. "Listen Harry, I'm really not the one you should be discussing this with. This is a Dumbledore-level issue. It's well over my head."

"Well, unfortunately Dumbledore's not here right now," complained Harry, having a hard time believing that anything was beyond Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror captain. "Shak, I saw you talking to Mr. Weasley a few minutes ago. He's the father of one of my best friends, and he's very highly placed right now. Let me talk to him, then."

"Harry," hissed Shak, "I said this was a Dumbledore issue, and I meant it. It involves the Minister of Magic himself, dammit. You should not be discussing it with anyone who works for the Ministry - and especially not me or Mr. Weasley. It will do none of us any good if it becomes known that you consulted us about this. Here's what I want you to do. I know you've got a fancy link to Dumbledore right now. Use it. Tell him about the press conference, and that none of us feels competent to discuss it with you. Do you take the Daily Prophet?"

"Why yes, although I just started yesterday," answered Harry, taken aback by the question.

Kingsley lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. "Then I want you to read tomorrow's edition - all of it - especially any stories that DO NOT involve you."

"Okay," said Harry - still completely at a loss to see what everyone was so agitated about. "If you say so. But this is weird."

"You have no idea," grumbled Tonks.

"Come on, I see Bill Weasley now," said Shak, sounding relieved. "It's time for you to go home. We'll see you tomorrow - for serious training. Be prepared. I know you can do this, and I know you must."

Harry left with Bill - both Disillusioned and disillusioned. Once again he was aware that people he trusted were depriving him of information, although he was not even sure what exactly this information was about. He talked with Bill on the way home, but Bill had not listened to the press conference and probably knew even less than Harry. His guardian was deeply impressed by the Order of Merlin, however.

Bill did have some news. He had met with a couple of the solicitors Dumbledore had recommended, and had selected one, Blackstone "Blackie" Howe of the firm D'Israeli, Braddock & Pickle. He hoped Harry would have an opportunity to meet Mr. Howe before too much time passed. Bill was surprised when his ward immediately assented to the engagement of Mr. Howe. But Harry had a couple of things that he wanted done right away.

First, he wanted Bill to buy another Firebolt broom - Harry was neither aware of nor interested in the price - and to send it ASAP to Ginny in Denmark. He had never meant to favour Ron over his sister, but that was the appearance, and Harry was not proud of it. He had decided to redress the situation by getting Ginny an equivalent broom.

Second, he wanted to sign a Chocolate Frog card contract with Cadbury right away. He was willing to take the deal almost as offered, except that he wanted to be paid in Muggle money - English pounds, specifically - and he wanted an advance of £500 immediately. Harry had decided that he was sick of being penniless, and lurking in the background was the possibility that he would have to take action to retrieve Hermione. That would probably require Muggle money, and with his notoriety he did not want to chance having to go to Gringotts to get it. If this Blackie Howe fellow could negotiate a better deal, fine, but Harry wanted it done quickly. Dashing off a hand-written note, Harry gave both Bill and Blackie authority to sign his name to a binding contract.

Bill also had significant news of another sort - the goblins had finally agreed to Dumbledore's latest proposal and were ready to ally against Voldemort. But they wanted a large, elaborate ceremony with Harry as the centrepiece. This function had been tentatively set for midnight, 18 July, which was the 7^th of Rodlaak on the goblin calendar. The date was the 500^th anniversary of the commencement of the Goblin Rebellion of 1496, which Harry knew from Professor Binn's History of Magic class (or, more properly, from copying Hermione's notes) had resulted in an independent goblin state that had persisted for over 50 years.

When Harry got home, he found out (the hard way) that he had an owl from Mr. Weasley. Errol, the Weasleys' ancient owl, was passed out cold in the middle of Harry's bedroom floor after colliding with and knocking over Hedwig's then-unoccupied cage. Harry tripped over the cage and ended up on the floor himself, his nose inches away from Errol's leg - to which a letter remained attached. Mr. Weasley's note concerned the matter at the top of Harry's agenda:

Dear Harry:

Just a quick note to keep you apprised about the mission to Hong Kong. Albus reports to me that he made good progress at the first meeting today - which was really yesterday, your time. His belief is that Hermione's mother is persuaded, but not her father, at least not yet. Albus is optimistic that arrangements can be worked out, but this will require another meeting tomorrow.

Albus has asked that I attend this next meeting because of my prior relationship with the Grangers. All I did before was have a few drinks with them once at the Leaky Cauldron, but Dumbledore wants me to be there. I am therefore going to be Apparating halfway around the world in a few minutes in the hope that my known, friendly face might make some difference.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Regards,

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation

Harry then whipped off a quick note to Dumbledore, not even knowing if the recipient had his communicator with him in Hong Kong. After asking for any news about Hermione and offering his encouragement to the Headmaster, he brought up the evident widespread displeasure of Order members and Aurors with, seemingly, the very idea that he had given a press conference with Minister Fudge. Harry wrote that "it was feeling like the bad old days when nobody would tell me anything," and asked Dumbledore to tell him what the fuss was all about.

Following another late dinner - eating with the Dursleys was becoming a rarity these days, something not altogether bothersome to Harry - Harry practised Lao Kung's Occlumency mind-clearing techniques. He set the Aural Pensieve to activate in 45 minutes and fell asleep rapidly, with two sets of carefully crossed fingers on each hand.

* * * *

Author's notes: Sefu is Chinese for a master martial arts teacher. Earlier I used a Japanese term and was correctly criticized, since no Chinese would use a Japanese term. Too much bad blood

A Hobson's choice is between nothing something bad

Harry's Internet lyric searching becomes important

The Dursleys like Tonks as little as Moody, and will find the next visitor even worse. Be careful what you ask for

Babe Ruth was described as an egg on toothpicks

Tonks' T-shirt is one I used to have

Deater is Auror slang for Death Eater

Two similar sounding ways to interrogate a wand: (1) prior incantato spell used by A. Diggory, GoF #9) and (2) priori incantatem effect (GoF #34). PI spell can be done with any wand, but only shows the last spell cast. PI effect requires identical wands in opposition, and can reveal the wand's complete history if maintained long enough

Transistors and nuclear power are actually relevant

After HBP I use silent magic and identification questions more

I caught "Scrimgeour" in OoP #7, but thought it Dawlish's first name. Auror names & titles now conformed to HBP. Shak is more important here than in HBP

Auror recruits receive nine months of formal instruction, and two years of probationary field work, to get the "three years" described in OoP

Auror partner rings will figure heavily

Quartermaster's scene based on old army movies

According to Guinness, wet ice is the least frictional substance and ethanethiol is a British name for ethyl mercaptan, the smelliest substance

Harry eventually does in the boiler

The DoM device is like a Holter monitor

Kilocalorie calculation is scientifically correct

Sean Moore, the MI-5 rep, combines names of two actors who played James Bond

I'd been to Olive Garden the evening I wrote the lunch scene

Tu Fan was a medieval Tibetan state

Schedule I is the top US illegal drug category

In canon, even Voldemort does not perform the Killing Curse silently. I give my explanation

Affinities quickly become crucial

The nature of Avada kedavra becomes important

Apoptosis means cell death

Furnunculus ordinarily produces boils. Christmas tree worms are coral reef creatures

"Conspicuous gallantry" and "pre-eminent bravery" come from official descriptions of British military decorations

A bar is signifies a multiple award of the same British military decoration

Lycanthropy research becomes a factor later

Banning follow-up questions is routine at press conferences, for the reason given

The palace beat? First clue in a long-running mystery

The Order of the Garter is real. The reference to Disney World satirizes the commercials

Clues abound about why the Order is upset after the press conference

Shak's reason for not wanting Harry asking him or Arthur Weasley becomes apparent later

"Weird" followed by "you have no idea" is a Simba/Scar exchange in "Lion King"

Blackstone is a famous British lawyer. Howe is from a joke law firm name - Dewey Cheetum & Howe

D'Israeli - a 19th Century British PM; Braddock - an 18th century British general; Pickle - a lawyer friend of mine

The goblin rebellion date is made up and moved it back 100 years to avoid overlapping with the canon rebellion of 1612

- 10 -

1

C:\Documents and Settings\Owner\My Documents\HP & The Fifth Element.ch5 back to ministry.doc 09/27/03

-->