A/N: Again, a HUGE thanks goes out to mathiasgranger. Matt is fantastic.
I also have to admit I'm very impressed with the response this new version's been getting on Portkey. Keep the reviews coming! I'm still in shock, 31 reviews on the last chapter! That's the highest I've ever gotten on a single chapter. With the posting of this chapter I'm two away from not having pre-written chapters anymore, and while I'm not going to threaten to take longer in updating if I get less reviews, more reviews will certainly inspire me to work faster. ;)
Please bear with me on the italics.. I've tried changing the font colours to make up for them not working but that only seems to work when it wants to. :/
Oh, and if I get a chance I will post chapter 23 tomorrow. I'm leaving early Thursday morning for Wisconsin for my cousin's wedding, and while I'll have my laptop with me, I've no idea if the hotels I'm staying at will have internet service. If they do I'll be sure to post while I'm gone. And if it's any comfort to anyone who will be disappointed at having to wait until Tuesday night (which is when I get back) for another update, it's going to take 28 hours to drive to and from Wisconsin so I'll have plenty of time to write in my notebook. :D
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the great and wonderful JKR. Harry Potter is not mine. I'd certainly like him to be, I can think of quite a few creative uses for him that Jo's never even touched on in the books, but that's besides the point. It's all hers.
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Harry and Hermione made their way towards the large oak front doors of Hogwarts Castle. Hermione made a move to raise her wand and flick the doors open, but before she could even send the message to her hand to do so, the wooden doors slammed wide open, their iron hinges locking in place.
Harry shifted Ginny's weight in his arms as he charged through the doors, Hermione in tow. He entered the Great Hall and called out, "Professor McGonagall!" at the top of his lungs. Hermione quickly caught up to him, still confused by what was happening.
The teens didn't have to wait much longer. Moments after her name being called, Professor McGonagall strode into the hall. "Mr. Potter, I do believe that I specified to send a response with your owl. Barging into the castle is most certainly not-why are you carrying Miss Weasley?"
A look of concern affixed itself upon McGonagall's face as she bore down on the trio. Quickly coming face to face with Harry Potter, she gasped at what she saw in his arms.
Ginny appeared almost comatose, except for the look on her face. There was not a mark on her anywhere, but her peaceful, blank expression gave McGonagall shivers. It appeared as though Ginny had been the victim of an Avada Kedavra curse.
"What is going on?" she demanded, quickly levitating Ginny from Harry's arms and leading the way to the hospital wing. "What happened to Ginny?"
Hermione was at a loss for words, unable to explain the situation. Harry did his best to explain to Headmistress McGonagall what had happened when Ginny arrived at his parents' house in Godric's Hollow.
"I don't know how she found us, but she did," he began, doing his best to ignore their surroundings. As they made their way to see Madame Pomfrey, several portraits took it upon themselves to discuss what they were witnessing. Harry couldn't help but hear snatches of their conversation, many of them speculating that Ginny had once again been possessed by Voldemort or that Harry had done something to her. He cleared his throat and continued, shooting several glares at the portraits as he explained. "We were headed outside to call Atheos in when we saw her. She was just coming over the hill so we went out the front door to meet her. She said something about having to see us, and then warned us that something bad was going to happen."
Harry paused to watch the gentle rise and fall of Ginny's chest as they rushed towards Madame Pomfrey, trying to assure himself that since she was still breathing, she must be okay. "Right as she said it she looked like she was in terrible pain. She managed to get something out about a curse, and then she passed out. If I didn't know better myself, I'd swear that someone had used the Cruciatus on her, but she was fine when she got to the house. It wasn't until she started talking that she looked like she was in pain."
McGonagall let all of this information absorb as they arrived at the hospital wing. The double doors opened as she levitated Ginny through, leaving Harry and Hermione to follow her in. She set Ginny down on the nearest bed and called out, "Poppy! Get out here at once!"
After a few grumbles and the chance to make herself appear decent, Madam Pomfrey's head peeked out of her personal quarters. "For Merlin's sake, Minerva, what could be so important?" Her eyes fell upon the limp body of Ginny Weasley, and she immediately went into Healer mode.
She fired off questions left and right, demanding to know what happened to the girl. Harry and Hermione filled her in on what little they knew, regretful that they had no idea what had happened to Ginny before she stumbled into Godric's Hollow.
Madam Pomfrey administered several potions to the young witch, forcing them down her throat as she was still unconscious. She quickly performed several diagnostic spells to gauge Ginny's heart rate, blood pressure, and several magical levels.
"Oh dear," she muttered, heading back to her potions cupboard. She came back, armed with several more remedies. In Harry's entire experience in the hospital wing, he had never seen Madam Pomfrey use so many potions and spells at once.
He braced himself for the question he was about to ask, fearing the worst. "How bad is it?"
Madam Pomfrey sighed, her mouth set in a grim line. She turned to face Harry, looking him straight in the eyes. "We'll be lucky if she makes it through the night," she admitted, feeling utterly dejected. "I do promise that I will do my best. I'd like to remain optimistic as to Ginny's outcome."
Hermione let out a small gasp at this admission, tears welling in her eyes. She and Ginny had been good friends for so long, and as furious as she was with her over the love potion, she didn't want her to die.
Harry turned to his girlfriend and took her hand in his, comforting her as best as he could. The truth was that he, too, was in need of some comfort, but he wasn't about to voice that concern. What he was witnessing in front of him on a hospital bed was the one thing he had been the most afraid of. He had tried time and time again to warn his friends about the dangers of being associated with him. He couldn't even recall the number of times he had stressed the fact that just being his friend could endanger their lives.
Now he was facing the reality more than ever. Since his introduction to the wizarding world he had suffered many losses, and he couldn't help but blame himself. There was Professor Quirrel in his first year. True, he was a host for Voldemort at the time, but only because Voldemort was after him. Ginny and Hermione had been petrified in second year, along with several other students. All because of him. He began to mentally recount the number of people who had died or become gravely injured because of him, finishing with Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore.
Harry did his best to push the thoughts to the back of his mind, and refocused his attention on the still figure on the bed before him. He was about to say something to Ginny, despite her unconscious state, when McGonagall cut him off.
"Perhaps you and Miss Granger should go visit with Professor Dumbledore's portrait," she said, dismissing them. "The password is Nosebleed Nougat."
Harry gave her a quizzical look that he couldn't help. He knew that Dumbledore had tended to use candies and bon-bons as a password, but never would he have imagined that he would use one of Fred and George's Wheezes as a password. Let alone that McGonagall would keep the password.
McGonagall seemed to understand Harry's confused expression, and decided to explain. "Professor Dumbledore changed it just before he was killed, and I haven't the heart to change it to something else. Besides, what student would suspect that the password would be one of the Weasley twins' confectionary products?"
Seeing the logic in her explanation, Harry turned to leave the Hospital wing with one last wistful glance at Ginny Weasley. He couldn't help but feel responsible in some indirect way for her condition, and even though he knew that he hadn't actually caused her current state, he knew that it was in some way because of him.
Hermione seemed to understand what Harry was feeling, and reached out to wrap an arm around his waist. She gently dragged him from the room, and they headed down the hallway towards the Head's office. Knowing that her boyfriend was most likely feeling guilty, Hermione did her best to make him feel better. She didn't want him to blame himself for Ginny's hospitalization, even though he probably was anyway.
The journey to the Head's office seemed like an eternity to Harry. He dragged his feet as he barely moved forward, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.
Hermione kept walking forward until she realized that her arm was no longer around Harry. She turned to face him, her heart aching as she saw him.
He stood in the middle of the dimly lit hallway, his eyes downcast and his shoulders drooping. His guilt was more than apparent by his body language; he was sullen and gloomy, and Hermione could hear his thoughts. He was clearly shouldering the blame for everything.
She quickly closed the distance between the two of them and placed both of her hands on Harry's shoulders. His face remained pointed at the floor, and she cupped his chin with her hand to force him to look at her. "Harry, you can't blame yourself for this," she said, looking deeply into his eyes. She got lost in them for a moment, noticing that when he was upset and on the brink of tears, his eyes seemed to glow a brighter green than usual.
He sniffled, holding back a tear. He hated to cry, but he felt that everything was his fault. Harry turned his face away, not wanting Hermione to see the tears welling in his eyes.
Dammit, Harry, would you just listen to me? She demanded. If he wouldn't look her in the eye and listen to what she had to say, she would find another way to get through to him. She knew that he couldn't escape from their telepathic connection. This is not your fault. I know it feels like it to you, and I know that you've always warned us that being your friend would be dangerous. Ginny knew that, and she accepted that. If anything that's happened to her is because of Voldemort, please believe me when I tell you it was her own choice to befriend you. She knew the risks involved, and still remained close.
Harry whirled back to face Hermione, his face flushed with anger. "It is my fault!" he insisted. "I don't know what the bloody hell has happened to her, but she might not live to see tomorrow and I know that somehow this has something to do with me! Don't stand there and try to tell me not to feel guilty, because I do! Everyone who is close to me is in danger. If Voldemort does have something to do with this and Ginny dies because of it, it will be my fault." He paused, drawing in a breath. He was furious now. "If this is what he does to my ex-girlfriends, imagine what he'd do to you!" he declared, throwing up his hands in defeat.
His words stung Hermione like he had slapped her across the face. She couldn't believe that he was starting with this again. "For the love of Merlin, Harry! Does everything I tell you go in one ear and out the other?" With her hands on her hips and a stern glare on her face, Hermione was clearly not impressed with Harry's latest revelation. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not going anywhere! I was aware of the risks when we became friends six years ago, and nothing has changed since then."
Rather than reply to anything she had just said, Harry resumed walking towards the Head's office. Hermione followed him, gently slipping her hand into his. Harry gave her a reassuring squeeze, signifying that he didn't want to argue anymore.
They spent the rest of their walk in silence until they arrived at the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the office. Harry muttered the password and the gargoyle swung aside, granting them access.
Upon entering the office, Harry was cheerfully greeted by several of the former Headmaster's portraits. Armando Dippet called out, "Harry, m'boy! So good to see you again!" His voice was much louder than the rest of the portraits, drowning out their hellos.
Phineas Nigellus glowered at Harry from his portrait, still partially blaming the young wizard for the end of the Black family line. His scowl was his only form of greeting he offered to Harry; he crossed his arms and sat back, not saying a single word.
Harry's eyes finally came to rest upon Albus Dumbledore. He was by far the largest and most prominent portrait in the room, in an ornate gilded golden frame that took up a large portion of wall space. He appeared to be napping, as his half-moon glasses had slid down the bridge of his nose and he was emitting a quiet snoring noise.
Despite the sobering effects of seeing that his mentor was truly dead and in a portrait, Harry couldn't help but allow a small smile to spread across his lips. Dumbledore looked almost comical to him due to the manner in which he was resting.
Hermione did her best not to gape at the former Headmaster's portrait. Her mind was still whirring with Harry's declaration that Voldemort would not be lenient with her in any way, but she, too, was astounded by Dumbledore.
In a polite attempt to wake the older wizard, Harry exaggeratedly cleared his throat.
Dumbledore jolted awake, quickly glancing this way and that to attempt to discover the source of the noise. His gaze finally rested on Harry and Hermione standing before him, and he smiled. "Harry, so good to see you! And Hermione, you're looking well," he greeted them warmly.
Harry gulped, his throat tightening with emotion. He was still having trouble coming to terms with the fact that Dumbledore was truly dead, and hearing him address him like nothing had happened was tough.
Hermione did her best to pay attention to the wizened wizard, but couldn't help looking around the office a bit. She recalled Harry telling her of all the things the room had once been filled with, and she sadly noticed the change since McGonagall had moved in.
While Fawkes still had his perch next to the desk, the large bowl of lemon drops was missing from the desktop. The curtains of the large windows were closed, which was a shock in itself. In Dumbledore's entire reign as Headmaster, the curtains had always remained open. Several of his objects were missing from the room, including his Pensieve, but Harry noticed that both the sword of Gryffindor and the Sorting Hat remained intact.
"Professor, are you…" Hermione asked, trailing off. She wasn't sure how to phrase her question properly.
Dumbledore's portrait laughed, the usual twinkle in his eye. "Dead? Real? Anything you could have possibly finished that sentence with, I certainly have the answer to. Yes, I am most certainly dead. I am as real as a wizarding portrait can get, I'm afraid. I last updated my portrait a few days before my untimely demise, and thanks to Minerva I've had ample opportunity to be informed of what I am missing out on. She did, however, tell me that you and I had left for a mission of some sort, Harry. She claims to not know any of the details, and I was desperately hoping you would be able to fill me in. I'm assuming that this had to do with a Horcrux? I do hope that you have informed Miss Granger of their existence."
Harry shot a nervous glance towards Hermione. "Actually, Professor, there's something I should tell you. It was because of the Horcrux that you and I found, sir, that you died." Giving Harry a curious stare, Dumbledore remained silent, inviting the boy to continue. "We went to a cave near Voldemort's orphanage, where you thought you had found Slytherin's locket. You drank this vile potion that was making you weaker, so that I could get to the locket at the bottom of the liquid. When we got back to Hogwarts, you were so weak from the potion that Snape killed you."
"Ahh, yes," Dumbledore sighed. "Minerva did tell me that Professor Snape had been the one to deliver the final blow. No matter, however. You destroyed the locket, I trust?"
"No, sir," Harry admitted, his eyes cast towards the floor. "When I had a chance to retrieve the locket from your robes, after you were killed, I found out it was a fake. There was a note inside, from someone called R.A.B., and they claimed to have taken the real locket."
Dumbledore's face fell, clearly not expecting the news. "Well then," he stated, clearly unnerved by Harry's admission. "Have you discovered who this R.A.B. is?"
Harry shook his head, feeling terrible. He was clearly disappointing the former Headmaster. "I'm not entirely certain, but after some research that Hermione and I have done, we think it may be Sirius' brother, Regulus."
It pained Harry greatly to so casually mention his godfather, but he knew that he must be strong in the presence of Dumbledore's portrait. He felt that there were a great many things the elder wizard had neglected to tell him before he was murdered, and did not want to seem too unstable to handle the truth.
When did you find that out? Hermione asked him silently.
It was something I'd asked the Book of Requirement. Harry shrugged.
The portrait nodded, seemingly agreeing with Harry. "The initials do fit. Regulus Alphard Black," he admitted. "It would only be fitting for his middle name to be that of the Uncle who was disowned for crediting Sirius as his heir."
"There's more to it than that, though," Harry interjected. He pulled Hermione closer to him, bringing her into a better position for her to join in the conversation with the portrait.
"Why, Miss Granger!" Dumbledore grinned delightedly. "Your eyes! They are now such a stunning shade of green! Correct me if I'm wrong, but when I was still alive, they were brown, were they not?"
Hermione nodded, amazed that the former Headmaster paid such close attention to detail.
"I must admit, I am delighted to see that the Potters' wedding rings have fully manifested themselves. To see your eyes the exact shade as Lily's and Harry's definitely warms my heart." Dumbledore chuckled to himself.
"Please, sir, if you could, we'd like to know more about these rings." Hermione asked, courteously. She was not entirely sure how to deal with a wizarding portrait of someone she knew well; it was not quite like telling the Fat Lady the password for entrance to Gryffindor tower.
"All in due time," Dumbledore said, his eyes still twinkling. "Harry, I do believe you were about to tell me something else about the Horcrux?"
He nodded, taking in a deep breath. "We found and destroyed another one."
His eyes lighting up, Dumbledore clapped his hands together in glee. "Fantastic! Which one? How did you do it this time?"
With that, Harry proceeded to relate the entire sordid story to his mentor, with Hermione interrupting him to make small corrections such as the correct ratio of nitric to hydrochloric acid for the chemical formula they had used to destroy the shield.
"I must say, I'm intrigued," the elder wizard admitted. "Using a muggle method to destroy the Horcrux in combination with a spell is definitely a solution I had not thought of. What was the name of the book you found it in?"
"Dark Magicks, it was in my parents' library."
At this admission, Harry earned himself a rather strange glance from Dumbledore. "Your parents' library?"
Harry suddenly realized he had a lot more explaining to do than he was aware of. He did his best to get through everything, Hermione helping along the way. She told Dumbledore of her fight with Ron in the Burrow, sending her off to find Harry. Together they explained their trip to Diagon Alley and London, where they had picked up the rings in the Gringott's vault. There was also Hermione's subsequent attack from Draco Malfoy and his goons. Hermione's eyes remained focused somewhere in the distance as Harry recounted the details of that terrible day, doing her best to push the memories back.
They continued with the admission that they Apparated to Paris for dinner, and their growing relationship. Ordinarily Harry would have felt like his love life was none of the former Headmaster's business, but something deep inside was nagging at him to be as truthful as possible. Harry told of the fight between Hermione and Ginny in the St. Mungo's lobby, causing Dumbledore to chuckle at their behaviours. As difficult as the situation may have been at the time, it was quite amusing to picture the twin slaps the two witches had delivered.
Hermione took over the explanation, feeling that she was in the better position to inform Dumbledore of Ginny's use of a love potion as Harry was the one under it at the time. She explained how she had finally deduced the sneakiness of Ginny's plot to get Harry back, and how she and Harry had fled the Burrow after learning of her deceit.
Together they told of their trip to Godric's Hollow, Harry making sure to mention that Hermione had not let him drive the speedy little BMW roadster he had purchased in London. He had received a concerned look from Dumbledore at the mention of the expensive car, but he reassured the wizard that, after his inheritance from Sirius, his parents, and Dumbledore himself, the car had barely made a dent in his finances. He reasoned that Hermione had mentioned it would be a less magical way to travel, and it might come in handy at some point.
As Harry explained to Dumbledore his surprise at finding his parents' house intact, he noticed Hermione rummaging through their trunks out of the corner of his eye. She had taken them out of her pocket and enlarged them, clearly looking for something. He continued his explanation of the charm on the house as he silently asked Hermione what she was doing.
I packed the important books, she admitted. The Book of Requirement, the book that we found the Horcrux destruction spell in, a few of your dad's books, and some other ones I thought would be important.
Harry did his best not to become cross with his girlfriend for her overwhelming love of literature. Ginny's welfare had been in their hands as she was packing, but he reassured himself that it could not have been that bad, as Hermione had packed for the both of them in a few mere seconds.
Allowing his girlfriend to hunt for the books, Harry brought up their discovery of Ginny coming towards the house, and the events that followed. He made sure to repeat Ginny's words verbatim for the old wizard, hoping that he would be able to offer some insight as to what was happening.
Making sure not to leave out that they were training with physical exercise every day as they researched the different Horcruxes and their possible locations, Harry couldn't help but fiddle with his dad's wedding band. He dragged it back and forth across the chain, almost nervously. Harry was careful as he mentioned The Book of Requirement to Dumbledore, hoping that the old wizard would trust they were using the book solely for the purpose of learning more about the Horcruxes. He could see that Hermione had finally found the tomes she was looking for, and felt that they needed a bit of explanation first.
In a triumphant display, Hermione turned back to Dumbledore's portrait and held out the books for him to see.
"I brought them with me, Professor, just in case. I have the Dark Magicks book, and I managed to grab The Book of Requirement just before we left the house." She said proudly, showing off the books to the portrait. "I even have Harry's notes that he made."
Harry blushed, silently appreciating how thorough his girlfriend had been. "I managed to draw some maps of England and surrounding countries. I'm not sure exactly why I need them yet, but they appeared in the book when I was trying to learn where the remaining Horcruxes were hidden. The maps in the book highlighted a few things I'd never noticed before, so I copied those into my versions of the maps."
As Hermione shuffled Harry's note parchment for the portrait to see, Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"Well," he began, "I can certainly tell that the two of you not only make an excellent pair, but you are well on your way to completing the Horcrux mission. This, however, is a topic we can elaborate upon later. I had Minerva call you here for one purpose, although now it seems we have two very important subjects to address." He gestured within his frame to two very comfortable looking chairs that were opposite the desk.
Taking his cue, the young couple moved the chairs closer to the portrait. Harry cautiously took his seat, nervously waiting to hear what Dumbledore had to say.
"I have quite a bit of information for the two of you in regards to those rings you wear. Minerva also informed me that you two arrived with Ginny Weasley, which concurs with your story of her appearing at the Potter residence. I will leave it up to the two of you which subject we discuss first. The rings, or Miss Weasley."
"Ginny," Harry blurted out, not giving Hermione a chance to say otherwise. Fortunately she agreed with him. The young witch's life currently hung in the balance as she lay in the hospital wing, and needless to say, both Harry and Hermione were concerned for her well-being.
"Very well then," Dumbledore said, making himself comfortable in a chair of his own that had appeared in the background of his portrait. "Harry, from what you have told me of Ginny's words in Godric's Hollow, it clearly sounds like she was trying to warn the two of you of something terrible that was about to happen."
Harry did his best not to snort at the former Professor's choice of words. Trying to warn him-she had said right out that something bad was going to happen!
"I must admit that I am very concerned over her physical reaction to these words. You said it seemed like someone was using the Cruciatus to harm her?" Dumbledore asked, making sure he had the facts straight.
Nodding, Harry added, "At first she seemed okay, but the moment she said something negative, she was in pain."
Dumbledore seemed to think this over for a few minutes. "Tell me, did it appear as though she had come to you of her own free will, or like she was under the Imperius?"
Harry also had to take a moment to think about Ginny's actions. He had to admit that her coming after himself and Hermione seemed rather odd, especially considering she was by herself. It was not like Ginny to just chase across England to track down two people who clearly wanted nothing to do with her. "I would have to say the Imperius, sir," Harry relented. "It was so strange for her to show up. Hermione tells me that she made it absolutely clear that Ginny was not to be around us anymore, as she didn't trust her."
"I suppose that, since Ginny is alive, there is no need to mention the possibility of the killing curse?"
Dumbledore's question was met with odd glances from the young teens sitting in front of his portrait.
"Forgive me for asking, sir, but what do the Unforgivables have to do with this?" Hermione interrupted.
Sighing deeply, Dumbledore settled himself further into his chair. "Have I ever told you the story of my brother, Aberforth?" he asked.
Hermione and Harry exchanged glances. They knew about the Hog's Head innkeeper and that he was related to Dumbledore but they never expected that he would have a story.
Seeing no objection from the pair, Dumbledore continued. "I must admit that I never pictured him going into the business of bars and lodgings when we were younger, but alas, that is where his unfortunate fate has led him." He readjusted his half-moon glasses, contemplating whether or not to clean them on his sparkling blue robes. "Many years ago, before Voldemort's time, there was a dark wizard named Grindelwald."
Recognizing the name, Harry had to add, "Sir, isn't he the one mentioned on your Chocolate Frog card?"
Chucking, Dumbledore said, "Of course, Harry. The card says that I am famous for discovering the twelve uses of dragon's blood, defeating Grindelwald in nineteen-forty-five, working with Nicolas Flamel, and that my likes include chamber music and ten pin bowling. I wonder, have either of you ever been bowling before? It is quite the experience!" his eyes twinkled. Seeing that neither Harry nor Hermione had the patience for a discussion on strange muggle sports, he continued with his story. "As I was saying, Grindelwald was to me like Voldemort is to you, Harry. In fact, I believe that at one point, Grindelwald may have even been young Tom Riddle's mentor."
"This is all fascinating, Professor, but what does it have to do with your brother?" Hermione interrupted.
"Patience, Miss Granger," Dumbledore chided. "After all, what is the sense in telling you the story if you do not understand where it is coming from?" Sensing no further interruptions, Dumbledore continued his tale. "Grindelwald attempted to employ a concept which you are very familiar with, Harry. He did his best to use those who were close to me in attempts to defeat myself. For reasons unknown to me, he chose to use Aberforth against me. Not that Aberforth and I were ever very close, mind you, but it was an attempted ploy to get closer to me.
"The reason why I asked you about the three Unforgivables in relation to Ginny is that I suspect Voldemort may have used the same potion on Ginny as Grindelwald did on my brother. I must admit that it is not a commonly known potion, but it would not surprise me to discover Voldemort using it, as Grindelwald was his guide. He most likely passed on any knowledge he had of the Dark Arts to young Riddle. Now, I would be willing to venture out on a limb to say that Voldemort and his followers are relatively unaware of your relationship with Miss Granger. They are probably still under the impression that you and Miss Weasley are dating, which would be why Voldemort chose to use her.
"The potion I suspect Ginny is under is called the Obeir potion. It is untraceable, and very few wizards are aware of the potion's existence. Otherwise, the Ministry would control it. The potion combines the effects of all three Unforgivable curses. The person who is forced to drink the potion must follow the commands of the person who gave it to them, or suffer the consequences. By being forced to follow instructions, they feel as though they are under the Imperius. If they do not follow orders properly, they feel excruciating pain like the Cruciatus. And if they are given a specific task that they fail to complete, they are killed in a similar manner to using Avada Kedavra." Dumbledore said solemnly, taking in the looks on the two teens' faces.
After the information took a few moments to sink in, Harry chose to speak. "Sir, why would Voldemort use Ginny to get to me, though? Even if we were still together, I'm not thick enough to not notice such a serious change in my girlfriend."
"Ahh, that is the interesting part, Harry. This is where the story concerning my brother, Aberforth, comes in. It has always been my belief that Grindelwald used the Obeir potion on him, hoping that Aberforth would lead me straight into his lap, making the final battle that much easier for him. Unfortunately for Grindelwald, a few uncalculated events took place. One was that the person he entrusted to make the potion happened to be a bit of a poor Potions master. The potion must be stirred clockwise constantly for several hours, and I believe that the Potions master stirred counter-clockwise, and most definitely not for the allotted amount of time. Second, Grindelwald did not take into account my brother's love of wizarding whisky."
"Whisky?" both Harry and Hermione said incredulously.
Nodding, Dumbledore's portrait continued. "Ogden's Old Firewhisky. Some of the most potent alcohol known to man and wizarding kind, I'm afraid. Aberforth drank it like it was water. Wizarding alcohol when mixed with potions often has a similar effect as mixing one muggle prescription with another. For example, and pardon my crudeness with the subject, but it is like mixing muggle antibiotics with muggle contraceptive pills. The antibiotics alter the effectiveness of the contraceptives, often resulting in an undesired effect. In the manner of muggle medicine, it is pregnancy. However, in our world, mixing alcohol with potions often causes the potion's intended effect to go awry. In this case, it led to my brother's strange actions, and his being shunned from the wizarding public."
"Strange actions?" Harry questioned, desperately throwing the subject off of muggle birth control pills. He knew that Aberforth was one of the stranger wizards he'd ever met. In fact, he was right up near the top of the list with the ex-Auror, Alastor Moody, but he had never heard of these `strange actions' that led to his becoming an outcast.
"I must admit, Harry, that I am rather surprised that the gossip concerning Aberforth has not made its way into the student body. I can think of several students who would love nothing more than to have something like this to hold over their Headmaster," he admitted.
Hermione gave her former Headmaster a quizzical look. For the majority of his story she'd done her best to sit quietly and listen attentively, but her female chromosomes couldn't pass up the possibility of gossip in relation to Dumbledore. While she prided herself on not acting like the other girls in her dorm, Hermione couldn't contain her curiosity at Dumbledore's hints. "It takes quite a bit for a wizard to be extradited," she said, fidgeting with her wand. "What did Aberforth do that was so highly frowned upon?"
Dumbledore did his best to contain a smirk. "The most commonly told story is simple, and consists of one sentence. I, however, know the entire truth, including the specifics of what happened. To put it neatly, my dear brother performed questionable charms on a goat."
Shooting each other shocked glances, Harry and Hermione were both utterly confused. "A goat? Why on earth would Aberforth have attacked a goat when he was supposed to have been attacking you?" Hermione voiced her concerns.
"Ahh, my dear, therein lays the flawed piece of the potion. The bottle really should have a label that reads `Caution: Alcohol and certain potions may alter the effectiveness of this potion!' in my opinion, but it is not a commonly known fact that Ogden's Firewhisky will modify the effects of the potion. From what I have been able to discern by viewing Aberforth's memories in my Pensieve, his instructions were to lead me directly to Grindelwald by whatever means necessary. Grindelwald and his minions had mentioned something along the lines of Petrifying me, and then either transporting me via levitation, Portkey, or Side-Along Apparition. Judging by the charms and spells my brother performed, he chose the method of Side-Along Apparition."
Harry shot his former mentor a puzzled glance. "How do you know, Professor? Aside from his memories, there must have been other wizards present for him to have been shunned by the community."
"How right you are, Harry!" the elder wizard exclaimed jovially, peering down at him from his portrait. "Aberforth did indeed Petrify the poor goat, but rather than fall on its side, the goat remained standing. Its knees had been locked in place by the spell, and when Aberforth made a move to come in close enough contact with the goat, two wizards walked in on him. His position was rather, erm, how shall I say this…questionable?" Dumbledore appeared mildly uncomfortable as he explained. "Aberforth had been out behind the Hog's Head when he was found by two bar patrons, who had stumbled outside while slightly intoxicated from a few rounds. He had taken the goat by surprise, sneaking up behind it to use the petrification spell. With his brain so addled by the combination of the potion and the Firewhisky, he simply bent over from his place behind the animal and grabbed the goat around the middle."
Dumbledore paused for a moment, allowing the mental image to form in the young witch and wizard's minds. When a look of horror and disgust crossed their faces, he chuckled. "I am afraid to say that the two of you reacted in the same manner as the bar patrons. They fled the scene, later claiming that Aberforth had attacked a defenceless goat, Petrifying it so that it could not move, and made a move to, well…I'd rather not say, if you don't mind, but I'm sure that your minds will be able to figure out what they thought Aberforth was about to do."
Harry and Hermione nodded, doing their best to erase the image from their minds. As Harry fought against the picture of Dumbledore's brother and the defenceless goat, he struggled to ask a question. "Sir, I understand how the Firewhisky managed to mess up the spell, but why a goat? A goat and a human being, that human being you, hardly have any similarities."
"I must disagree, Harry. There is one main physical similarity between the goat Aberforth went after, and myself. Goats are well-known for one particular feature-"
"Their beards!" Hermione interrupted, fully reverting into know-it-all mode. "A goat has a very human-like beard, and it can grow extremely long."
Harry examined the former Headmaster, eyeing his very long beard.
"Apparently, the similarities between my beard and the beard of the goat were enough for the potion, which was why Aberforth went after the goat in the first place," the older wizard chucked, his blue eyes twinkling. Even in death, he found the reasoning behind his brother's attack on a goat rather humorous.
"But he failed to complete the task! Why didn't he die?" Hermione pestered.
Albus Dumbledore sighed gently. Even though he never tired of Hermione's quest for knowledge, he couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a question she wouldn't think to ask. "As I stated, the potion seemed to feel that the beard of the goat and my beard were the same thing, therefore considering the task at hand to have been completed. Firewhisky clearly addles any normal wizarding brain, and it certainly had the same effect on the Obeir potion coursing through Aberforth's body."
"How does this relate to Ginny?" Harry asked, his mind returning to the redhead who was barely hanging onto the thread of life in the hospital wing.
"Ahh, the young Miss Weasley. I daresay that, despite her current unfortunate condition, I believe she will pull through. Poppy Pomfrey has worked mysterious wonders many times in this castle. One thing troubles me, though. She may be able to revive Ginny and bring her back into a normal state, but the Obeir potion must run its course. There is no known counter-curse or antidote to its effects."
Harry took in the sombre words, misinterpreting them to believe that Ginny would have to kidnap him and bring him to Voldemort in order for her to be all right again.
"But Professor!" Hermione was already jumping out of her seat, bringing herself eye to eye with the portrait. "You just said yourself that there is a way to counter the effects of the potion!"
"Did I?" he asked wearily, glancing around. "I should think that you, Miss Granger, had carefully deduced from rumours surrounding my brother, Ginny's actions, and your thorough research what potion Ginny was under, and the proper way to counter it." There was a slight glimmer in his eye as he winked at the brunette witch.
Hermione opened her mouth to argue that Dumbledore had just blatantly told her that Firewhisky would addle the potion enough to have Ginny attack something similar to Harry, when his implications sank in. He clearly did not want to be credited with Ginny's rescue, and wished for Hermione to be the one to `make the discovery'.
"I think that you may find in your Dark Magicks book a brief mention of the Obeir potion, and that wizarding alcohol may disrupt the effects of the potion. It seems to me like this book is not only written about the Dark Arts, but also ways to either counter their effects or destroy objects created with them." Dumbledore motioned to the old and tattered tome that rested on the top of Hermione's enlarged trunk.
Hermione flipped through the pages and did, indeed, find a reference to the dark potion. However, had she not known what she was looking for, she probably would not have noticed it until it was too late.
Having a stroke of genius, Hermione picked up the Book of Requirement, and concentrated as best as she could on discovering precisely what ailed Ginny, and caused her to act in the manner that she did. Moments later, as she opened the cover to the centre of the book, she was greeted by several paragraphs on the Obeir potion, a full list of ingredients and brewing methods, and the simplest way, among others, to counteract the potion: alcohol.
She couldn't help but recall something she had once heard on an absurd muggle television show her father occasionally indulged in. `Alcohol: The cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems.' It was something that the father figure in the television show had said in the latest season when his imaginary town had experienced a temporary liquor prohibition. It was ironic that the man's name was Homer, after one of the wisest men in Greek history, when it was clear to her that he barely had three brain cells bouncing around in his skull. Hermione realized that alcohol was not only the cause of Aberforth's downfall, resulting in his attacking the goat, but it was also the solution to his problems. After all, had he not been guzzling Firewhisky like it was going out of style, he would have most likely delivered Albus Dumbledore directly into Grindelwald's lap and his imminent death. In that case he would have been persecuted as one of Grindelwald's followers, much like Voldemort's Death Eaters, and sentenced to life in Azkaban.
Understanding the former Headmaster's wishes, Hermione's thoughts immediately returned to the task at hand. "So basically, you're telling us that once Madam Pomfrey has revived Ginny, all we have to do is get her absolutely sloshed on Firewhisky and have her attack an imaginary Harry?"
Dumbledore gave an almost imperceptible nod, the twinkle in his eye brightening. "Might I suggest, now that you are both of age, you consider sampling the other various beverages you might find at both the Hogs Head and the Three Broomsticks? I daresay that Firewhisky might be a tad strong for Miss Weasley, and you may be able to find something better suited to her tastes."
Harry stared at the portrait, having a bit of trouble believing that Dumbledore was practically instructing the two of them to go out and drink at the Hogsmeade bars, but then again, there were many things he did not know about the former Headmaster.
He looked over to his right, seeing Hermione frantically taking notes. It would be just like her to not want to forget a single thing Dumbledore had said, and she was clearly making sure that they would be successful in helping Ginny.
Hermione quickly looked up from her parchment, resting her quill in her lap. "Professor," she began, "I'm assuming that you would prefer for us to wait for word from Madam Pomfrey that Ginny is awake before we attempt to help get the potion out of her system?"
"Absolutely," replied the portrait, smiling at her. "Which means that we have more than enough time to discuss the side effects of the rings you two are currently wearing." Dumbledore spread his hands to the edges of his gilded frame, clearly indicating the bands that hung on chains around the teenagers' necks.
Immediately they both reached up for the warm metal, grasping it in their fists.
"If you wouldn't mind enlightening an old man as to what you've been experiencing since you removed the rings from Harry's vault, I would be more than happy to explain what has been happening." Dumbledore reached towards a table in his portrait, and a mug of hot chocolate appeared. He brought it to his lips and enjoyed the rich flavour, watching out of the corner of his eye as Hermione eyed him curiously.
"Sir, I was under the impression that wizarding portraits could communicate with the living, but much like ghosts, could not eat or drink?"
"You are correct," he grinned, setting his mug back on the table. "However, just because I appear to be quite thoroughly enjoying a steamy cup of cocoa does not mean I really am. While I feel the taste in my mouth and the hot cocoa running down my throat, I am not really consuming it. It is simply one of the many aspects of magic in our world."
Seemingly satisfied with the explanation, Hermione began the story of the rings she and Harry both wore. She saw no surprise in Dumbledore's eyes when she mentioned that the diamond in Lily's engagement ring was a Glitra diamond, and made sure to leave the more embarrassing parts of the story out. She explained to Dumbledore how her eyes had changed from a chocolate and cinnamon brown to Harry's emerald green, and how they were able to communicate telepathically. Harry also felt it necessary to point out that their mind link was what enabled him to rescue her from Draco in time, and that they occasionally emitted a powerful glow when they were feeling particularly emotional.
Hermione took great care in outlining everything that she felt had happened because of the rings. As she finished recounting the recent events, Dumbledore rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in his cupped palm.
"I must admit that several of the events you described also occurred between James and Lily. However, there are a few that they did not experience, that I was certainly hoped to see in the two of you. Lily and James retained their own eye colour, and while they weren't able to communicate telepathically, they were able to read each other's emotions. Rather than receive messages of specific words, they were able to receive an impression of what the other was thinking or feeling. At times they did seem to emit some sort of a glow, but it could be likened to that of a beautiful and happy pregnant woman rather than a lit torch." Sitting back and relaxing a bit, Dumbledore pursed his lips as he concentrated on his thoughts.
"Why are the rings affecting us more than they did Harry's parents?" Hermione asked.
Noticing that his glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose, Dumbledore readjusted them before he spoke. "The prophecy," he said simply. When neither of his former students questioned him, he continued. "'And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…' There is one thing in Voldemort's entire life that he has never been capable of: love. Simply by sitting here in my former office and conversing with the two of you, I can see that you truly care for one another. I firmly believe that it will come down to both of you to bring Riddle down. While Harry may be the one who must deal the killing blow, it will definitely require the powers you both possess to complete the task. Now, there have been many great love stories throughout history, but I believe that the bond the two of you share will be greater than anything the wizarding world has ever seen."
Harry gulped, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He felt nervous hearing that his and Hermione's relationship might be the basis upon which Voldemort is destroyed. A nagging feeling in his brain told him to be prepared for his relationship to come under public scrutiny. While Rita Skeeter was still, for the most part, under Hermione's control, he knew that things would not go easy for the two of them.
"Naturally, the depth of your feelings for one another may be fathoms beyond what the two of you feel at the moment. However, I should assure you, that if it feels like everything is moving too fast, it is completely normal at this point. The feelings are already there, your mind is just taking longer to realize them than your heart is." Dumbledore was saying, a pleased smile spreading across his face. He noticed Hermione's hand twitching towards Harry's, clearly wishing to comfort him in some manner. She was well aware of how much he hated his fame, and knew that he would not enjoy being in the eye of the public any more than necessary.
"And my eyes, Professor? Not only do they now match Harry's, but also he and I have been acting quite a bit like each other lately. Just yesterday I woke up to find him sleeping on the floor in the library, hugging the Book of Requirement like a worn, old teddy bear!" Hermione giggled at the recollection, amused that she had thought the book was an abandoned pillow.
"Simply a manifestation of the rings," Dumbledore commented. "Your eye colour changing to Harry's is, I'm afraid, an indication of his power over yours in the relationship. While you are a very strong witch in your own right, Hermione, Harry remains the more powerful wizard. His extensive magical abilities in combination with his physical and emotional strength and destiny to fight Voldemort place him in the top position. Your green eyes are a symbol of working with him on this, and how you are assimilating yourself into his way of things. For now, consider it a merging of your souls. After all, isn't that what eyes are the window to?"
Hermione made a comment about Harry wearing the pants in the relationship, which made him laugh. "You're wearing pants, too, `Mione!" he exclaimed, clearly missing the point of the statement.
She rolled her eyes and shrugged it off, focusing back on Dumbledore. "What about us acting like each other?"
"A display of how in tune you are to each other's emotions and needs. Not only do you understand what each of you desperately wants, you understand where that desire is coming from. You share not only your hearts, but your minds as well. It truly is something to cherish." The aged wizard smiled a fatherly smile at the young couple, silently wishing the best for them both. Before they had a chance to comment on his explanations, he spoke again. "I would like to offer the two of you the opportunity to stay at Hogwarts for a time. While I realize that you have set up home in Godric's Hollow, I'd like to remind you that you would both find Hogwarts more suitable for any necessary magical training. Though you are both of age, firing spells at one another in a muggle town is hardly a wise idea. You are welcome to use the library with no restrictions to research the Horcruxes, and any questions you may have will gladly be answered by any of us present who are capable. Also, if you should choose to accept this offer, myself and the professors who remain here over the holiday would be more than happy to offer private tutoring to the both of you in any area of magical expertise we can. You are free at any time to journey to Hogsmeade, or to Apparate back to Godric's Hollow if you deem it necessary."
Hermione leapt out of her seat to accept the offer, but Harry's hand on her thigh brought her back to the comfortable chair.
"Can we get back to you on that, sir? There's a few things I need to discuss with Hermione," Harry said, squeezing her hand for reassurance.
"Of course, of course," he said, gesturing towards the door. "I believe that you will find the Gryffindor dormitories are currently unguarded by a password, and you are more than welcome to make yourselves comfortable. When you have reached a decision, feel free to return to this office and let me know what your choice is. Minerva should be back from the Hospital wing shortly, and you will be notified as soon as Ginny is conscious again. I'd suggest a trip to Hogsmeade for some entertainment tonight," the old wizard winked at them. "Perhaps some research on what type of beverage to help Miss Weasley with?"
Choosing to exit gracefully rather than endure the implications of Dumbledore's statement, Harry and Hermione bade his portrait good night and made their way to Gryffindor Tower. Their minds were full of concern for Ginny, and soothed by knowing that she was in Madam Pomfrey's capable hands. As they unpacked their belongings, they decided to heed Dumbledore's advice and go into Hogsmeade for the evening. Their target was The Three Broomsticks, and having already had one interesting experience with muggle alcohol, the young couple was more than willing to experiment with the effects of wizarding alcohol.
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