I am not J.K. Rowling, I didn't create Harry Potter and I'm not doing this for money, as would be obvious if you could see my bank account.
Chapter 11: The Most Important Meal of the Day
Weeks passed. Harry resumed his daily class schedule and, although Professor Slughorn had been unusually curious as to what he had been up to while away from class, most of his teachers had been very gracious and understanding. Neville had recovered nicely from having a trunk fall on him, although he now sported a prominent scar on his forehead (a situation not wholly unfamiliar to Harry and with which he could fully sympathize).
Meanwhile, Harry's relationship with Hermione was turning out to be nothing short of wondrous, as each day was filled not only with the highly enjoyable experiences and discoveries that normally come with a new relationship but also a fresh appreciation of what had been there before. Every heartfelt conversation, every shared meaningful glance and caring touch meant so much more now. Harry Potter was the first to admit that he had not exactly done a brilliant job choosing his last two girlfriends, but it seemed that in his case the third time was the charm. Perhaps part of that charm was that no one yet knew they were a couple except for Ron, who they felt an obligation to let in on their little secret. He had been short with them for a few days after finding out, but now seemed more or less fine with it. Given their conversation at Hogsmeade, Harry suspected that his best mate wasn't terribly surprised by the news.
In between class work and romantic dalliances, there was research, lively discussion on what to do next, a fair bit of brooding on Harry's part about being a horcrux and an exhaustively thorough examination of the pensieves Dumbledore had left for them. They had been through them so many times that Headmistress McGonagall had grown weary of supervising the process and allowed them to take the memories to the Room of Requirement, so that they could view them whenever they liked. They were growing to like it less and less each time, however.
"Wait for it," Ron narrated in a hushed voice as he, Harry and Hermione stared at the image of Dumbledore sitting in a chair, a bowl of porridge, a plate with a small slice of toast and the Daily Prophet spread out before him. "This is the best part right here. He lifts the spoon into his mouth and then… Here it comes…"
As Albus Dumbledore took a bite of his porridge, some of it trickled down into his long white beard. Deciding to do something about that quickly, he reached up with his arm and… "Oh!" Ron cried out with an enthusiastic fist pump. "And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard of our time, wiping porridge out of his beard with his sleeve."
Hermione shook her head disgustedly. "There's a napkin sitting right there under his plate of toast. What was he thinking?"
"He was probably thinking that there wouldn't be three teenagers watching this memory over and over again after he was dead," Harry muttered. When Hermione and Ron both turned to look at him, he heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry I've made you go through these pensieves so many times. There's obviously nothing here."
All three of them fell silent for a moment as Ron and Hermione gave each other a furtive glance. On the one hand, neither of them wanted to watch Dumbledore eat breakfast again. On the other, they knew how important it was that Harry not lose hope. Hermione felt very strongly about this and so it was she who spoke up. "Well, erm, we don't know that for certain, Harry. There are things we haven't checked yet…"
"Like what?" Harry asked gloomily. "We've looked through all the books on the shelves, we've read that morning's Daily Prophet dozens of times…we've even started looking for patterns in the wallpaper. Face it, this is getting us nowhere; it's a dead end. Just like the tower was. Just like everything we've come across since we destroyed Ravenclaw's reading lamp."
Hermione now looked to Ron for support. "Hermione's right, mate. I mean, um, that is, well…it doesn't make sense, does it? Why would Dumbledore even leave us memories of him having breakfast in the first place, if it didn't mean something?"
Harry buried his face in his hands. "I don't know, Ron. I don't know why Dumbledore did anything that he did. I don't know why he trusted Snape, I don't know why he didn't destroy Jean Paul Gerard's horcrux, I don't know why he didn't tell me what this power is that I have that can defeat Voldemort…"
An idea seemed to strike Ron suddenly. "Hey, maybe if he had told you what the power is, you wouldn't be able to use it."
Harry and Hermione both shot Ron with a scathing glare. "What good does that do me, Ron?" Harry asked testily. "What am I supposed to do, walk up to Voldemort and try things out on him? See if a good tickling charm does the trick?"
"It was just a thought," Ron added in a very small voice. For a moment, the sound of Dumbledore chewing toast was the only thing audible in the pensieve.
"Harry," Hermione began, cutting through the silence with a voice that was at once soft and strong, "you know we'll support you no matter what choice you make. If you want to go through these memories again a thousand times or return them to Headmistress McGonagall the minute we pull our heads out, we're behind you one hundred percent." She reached for his hand and held it tightly. "Just don't lose faith in yourself. We haven't."
"She's right, Harry," Ron added, visibly grateful for Hermione's way with words. "We'll stick with this for as long as you want to." Ron's eyes widened suddenly and he quickly stole a glance at an old brass pocket watch he had hidden in his robes. "Blimey, it's nearly eleven! I have to get ready for the Quidditch match…"
Hermione gave him a slight frown, but Harry looked at his best mate with an appreciative smile. "Go on, Ron. We can handle things from here."
Ron's face broke out into a wide grin. "Thanks, mate." Just as he appeared ready to exit the pensieve, he turned back around to face Harry. "You know, if you've changed your mind about playing seeker for us, I could put a good word in for you with the captain of the team."
As Harry shook his head 'no', Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're the captain of the Quidditch team, Ronald."
"I know," Ron replied with a proud chuckle. "I just like hearing someone else say it." He then turned his attention again to Harry. "Well, if you change your mind, just show up in uniform by game time. Ginny probably won't like it much, but she'll get over it."
"I don't think that's going to happen, Ron," Harry told him, his tone bittersweet. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it, mate," Ron said with a wave of his hand. "There'll be other matches. Well anyhow, I guess I should go. Much as I hate to leave you guys alone in here…" Ron's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Wait a mo. You two aren't going to start snogging once I'm gone, are you?"
"Honestly!" Hermione retorted indignantly. "The implication that we can't control our hormones while searching for clues in a pensieve that Dumbledore left for us is completely and utterly…"
Ron held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, alright. I was only joking. See you both later." Ron promptly withdrew his head from the pensieve and disappeared. His head popped back in a moment later as he added, "Come watch the match if you finish up early."
"We will," Harry assured him. With that, he disappeared again.
It had now fallen almost entirely silent in the pensieve, the rustle caused by Dumbledore turning the page of his newspaper seeming only to add to the tension that filled the room upon Ron's departure. "So…" Harry said as he began to stretch lazily.
"So…" Hermione responded somewhat awkwardly, her face looking his over with a mixture of scrutiny and recognition, as though she were trying to solve her favorite mystery again for the hundredth time.
"Have you been thinking about what it would be like to make out in a pensieve?" Harry asked her casually.
"Ever since Ron suggested it," Hermione admitted. Within seconds, Harry had wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips firmly to her own, his eyes closing in contentment. One hand had a firm grasp on the back of her head, his fingers weaving gingerly into her bushy hair, while the other roamed about her back, marveling at how wonderful she was to hold, to touch…
"Hermione," Harry began mischievously as they both stopped for a moment to catch their breath, "have you ever wondered what it would be like to snog on the Headmaster's desk?"
Hermione gave him a stern look. "Harry, we can't."
As though that were an invitation to proceed, Harry attempted to maneuver them onto the desk for a bit of forbidden foreplay…only to fall to the floor painfully as their bodies passed through the intangible piece of furniture.
"Ow," Hermione complained as she sat up, the top of her head passing through the bottom of the desk as she turned to look at her boyfriend. "I meant that literally. We're in a pensieve. We can't touch anything, remember?"
"I do now," Harry responded with a groan. "Sorry about that. I don't reckon I can think straight when I'm kissing you."
Hermione gave him a warm smile. "That's alright. You keep kissing me like that and I'll gladly do the thinking for both of us." As though to prove her own point, she began to kiss him again, gently and tenderly this time. Eventually, however, they both got tired of sitting on the floor, or the bottom of the pensieve, or whatever it was that was holding them in place here.
Harry rose first and then gallantly helped Hermione into a standing position, their bodies seemingly cut in half by the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore appeared to retrieve the last morsel of toast from somewhere around Hermione's navel and Harry suddenly realized that this memory was about to come to an end. "I don't suppose there's any reason to keep watching these, Hermione. As much as I would have liked to have thought there was something hidden here for us to find, it doesn't look like there is." He gave Dumbledore one last questioning look. "There's so much I don't know about his life, about why he did the things he did…about why he kept so much from me. I guess I was hoping to find all of the answers in just a few little memories, but Dumbledore didn't give them to me. Even in death, he chose to leave me in the dark."
Harry looked scornfully down at the Daily Prophet. "He was rotten at the crossword puzzle, too. He thought the lead singer of the Weird Sisters was named 'Minerva'."
Hermione scanned the crossword curiously. "That's strange. For the capital of Canada, he put down 'Riddle'."
Harry and Hermione shared a look. Could this be the message they had been searching for? "I thought we already looked at the crossword," Harry said.
"Ron checked the crossword," Hermione reminded him, "while we were looking over the bookshelves. He said everything looked fine to him."
"And we believed him?" Harry demanded incredulously.
"You may recall that that was the day we skived off early because I promised you we'd have some 'alone time' in the Charms classroom during my rounds," Hermione reminded him with a blush.
"Ruddy hormones," Harry complained under his breath. "So…this could be it. This could be exactly what we're looking for."
"I think so," Hermione agreed quickly as she examined what Dumbledore had written in the Daily Prophet's crossword puzzle. "Most of these answers are right, but just a few of them, the easier ones it seems like, look like clues…"
Before she could finish that thought, the memory ended and they were back in the Room of Requirement. Harry cursed under his breath. "We'll have to go through the whole thing all over again."
"It's alright, Harry," Hermione said, her beaming smile a welcome sight. "I think we've finally found the reason Dumbledore left us these memories."
Armed with quill and notebook this time, Harry and Hermione again plunged headlong into the pensieve and watched Dumbledore eat his breakfast. Harry wished fervently that there was some sort of muggle remote control device that would allow him to fast forward and pause his old Headmaster's memory. Eventually, they returned to the moment when Dumbledore opened the paper to the already completed crossword puzzle. Working at her usual feverish pace, Hermione jotted down the wrong answers she found there much more quickly than Harry could ever have hoped to. As they returned to the Room of Requirement, Harry asked, "Did you get them all down?"
"I think so," Hermione answered him warily. "Although I'm not completely sure they're in the right order. 'Riddle', 'links', 'Minerva', 'Gerard', 'swords', 'memories,' 'riddles', 'remember', 'diary'."
Harry scratched his head bemusedly as he heard Hermione read the message Dumbledore had left them. "Is there an order you could put them in where that would make even the tiniest bit of sense?"
Hermione gave the list another long glance, likely mentally rearranging the words time and again as she did so. "I doubt it. There aren't enough verbs to give it any proper structure."
Harry threw his hands in the air in frustration. "Perfect. After weeks of looking, we finally find what Dumbledore put in his memories for us to find…only it's completely meaningless gibberish."
"It has to mean something," Hermione countered emphatically. Her brow furrowed and she began to chew on her bottom lip, a clear sign of deep thought. "Didn't Dumbledore do the crossword in the other memory where he's having breakfast?"
"I think so," Harry replied with a small nod of his head. "But hold on, does that mean that…?"
***
Harry did his best to stifle a yawn as he watched Dumbledore read the Daily Prophet between bites of his blueberry scone. "Please tell me you're getting all of this, Hermione."
Hermione nodded. "It's just like the puzzle in the other memory. Most of what he's filled in is right, but there are just enough answers that are clearly wrong to establish a sort of pattern…" Her quill moved swiftly along the parchment as she spoke. "There. That should be all of them."
Harry gazed at her intently, his expectations high. "What does it say?"
Hermione cleared her throat and began listing them. "'Defeat', 'core', 'trust', 'defeat', 'Critz', 'hidden', 'remember', 'diary', 'riddles'."
At that moment, it was all Harry could do not to tear his hair out. "That…that doesn't mean anything either." His teeth clenched and his hands balled themselves into fists in frustration. "Why would he do this? Why leave us these jumbled words and then…?"
"Wait," Hermione interrupted him softly, her eyes darting between the two lists of words she had made. "I think these are a series of two and three word messages cut in half, to make sure that no one else could stumble on them by accident."
Harry craned his neck over her shoulder to get a look at the two lists of words. "How do you mean?"
"Well," Hermione explained patiently, "when you read them together side by side, the message says, 'Defeat Riddle. Core links. Trust Minerva. Defeat Gerard. Critz swords. Hidden memories. Remember Riddle's diary. Remember Riddle's diary.'"
Harry stared at the words written on the page for a moment, his eyes blinking slowly as he began to realize what Dumbledore had been trying to tell him. "He's telling me how to beat both of them, isn't he? Voldemort and Gerard."
Hermione turned her head slightly to watch Harry's eyes widen with wonder. "I think so."
As the memory ended and they were drawn back to the here and now, Harry gave Hermione such a look of pure adulation and excitement that she was stunned into silence, although her wide celebratory smile looked very much like his own. "We've found it, Hermione. And you…you're the one who figured it out, the one who made it all possible. I could kiss you!"
Hermione's cheeks went beet red. "It wasn't just me, Harry. You were the one who noticed the crossword in the first place, remember? Although…" she continued coyly, "I wouldn't exactly say 'no' to the kiss…"
Harry proceeded to snog her breathless. By the time the kiss was finished, the Room of Requirement had provided them with a red leather love seat, some mood music (in the form of a violin being played only by a pair of animated gloves) and a full container of Madame Peckaway's Lemon-Flavoured Lip Balm. It was a really good kiss.
Neither of them moved from the other's arms, as they were both anxious to remain in the moment for as long as possible. Eventually, however, thoughts of Dumbledore's message returned to both of their minds. "What do you reckon 'core links' are?" Harry asked as he slowly planted kisses along her neck.
Hermione shook her head slightly, although she seemed somewhat distracted. "I haven't the foggiest."
"'Trust Minerva' must mean McGonagall," Harry mused aloud as he gently massaged Hermione's shoulder blades. "Maybe she knows what the core links are. She's probably at the Quidditch match right now. It'd be the perfect opportunity to go and talk to her."
"Mmm, it would, wouldn't it?" Hermione agreed with the hint of a moan, her tone decidedly half-hearted. "Or we could just stay here for a little while longer." As Harry finally broke from their embrace and gave her an inquisitive look, she seemed to come to her senses again. "I suppose that would be rather selfish of us. Come on then, Harry. We have a Quidditch match to go to."
As they wound their way through the now largely empty old castle, Harry had the rest of the contents of Dumbledore's cryptic crossword answers on his mind. "I don't suppose you know what Critz swords are, do you?"
Hermione thought it over for a moment. "Maybe they're swords that were owned by Guillaume Prospero Critz."
"That name sounds familiar," Harry replied as he racked his brain trying to think of where he'd heard it before. "Who was he?"
"He was a seventeenth century French dark wizard hunter," Hermione answered him matter-of-factly, "who famously defeated the great Scottish necromancer Postumus FitzHugh. We studied him in History of Magic last year."
"No, that's not where I've heard of him before," Harry replied as he shook his head dismissively. "He was in one of my visions of the future! Him and FitzHugh both. They were the leaders of the wizarding governments of France and England."
Hermione looked slightly exasperated. "Am I the only one who pays attention to Professor Binns in History of Magic class?"
"Probably," Harry answered her with an affectionate smile. "Then there's the 'hidden memories' and remembering Riddle's diary."
"Twice," Hermione threw in as they neared the Quidditch pitch. "I certainly hope that talking to the Headmistress clears up a lot of this confusion, because otherwise I'm not sure how to interpret…" The rest of her words were drowned out by the roar coming from the Gryffindor section of the crowd.
"Dean Thomas scores again," a fifth year Slytherin named Charon Moon's voice boomed boisterously through the stadium. "That makes it 190-30, Gryffindor. Ravenclaw's Keeper looks a mite drowsy up there… but their seeker seems to have finally wandered back to the Quidditch pitch after flying aimlessly over the lake for the last ten minutes. Perhaps Luna Lovegood is finally taking this game seriously."
Harry did a double take as he watched Luna fly high above the Quidditch pitch, her arms and legs folded around the bottom side of her broom and her head resting easily against its bristles, looking as though she were taking a nap. "Then again, perhaps not," Moon continued.
Meanwhile, Ginny Weasley was chasing the extremely elusive snitch from one end of the pitch to the other, a look of complete frustration evident on her face even from this distance. One of Ravenclaw's chasers, who Harry did not immediately recognize, had the Quaffle and attempted to shoot it through the center hoop. Ron blocked the shot easily.
As Harry and Hermione neared the top of the stands where the Headmistress stood next to Deputy Headmaster Flitwick and Hagrid, a great many things began happening on the Quidditch pitch all at once. "Ginny Weasley's closing in on the snitch," Moon related breathlessly. "But what's this? Luna Lovegood has fallen from her broom. Gryffindor's Keeper has gone into a dive…looks like he's going after her!" Indeed, Ron, who was flying faster than Harry had ever seen him go, was speeding on his broom toward a falling Luna. "Goldstein takes advantage of the open goal and…scores! Ron Weasley has caught Luna Lovegood! AND LUNA LOVEGOOD HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!! IT'S….IT'S…A TIE!!!"
"A tie?!" the unmistakably chirpy voice of a first year Gryffindor cried out in dismay. "That's like kissing your sister."
Harry and Hermione had completely forgotten about speaking with the Headmistress, their attention entirely focused on Luna and Ron, who had not yet released the rookie Ravenclaw seeker from his arms. Gryffindor's seeker, on the other hand, was moving rather quickly in their direction. "What does Ginny think she's doing?!" Harry exclaimed.
"I don't know," Hermione replied grimly. "But I doubt she's going to give him a kiss."
By the time Harry and Hermione had reached the three of them, Ginny and Ron were so angry that the words they were yelling at each other could barely be understood. Luna meanwhile continued to lie leisurely in the arms of the boy who had saved her, her hands joined together behind his neck. "Did you want me to just let her fall, then?" Ron asked his sister, his expression furious.
"Don't be an idiot!" Ginny replied hotly. "Of course I didn't. But McGonagall would never have let that happen…"
Ron shook his head. "You don't know that! Nobody lifted a finger to save her, except for me…"
"You didn't have to 'lift a finger' and you certainly didn't have to fly after her yourself!" Ginny spat. "You could have used your wand, you know. Or did you forget you were a wizard?!" When Ron had no answer to that, she continued, "Of all the stupid, immature…"
"Alright," Hermione interrupted in an attempt to play peacemaker, "I think there's been enough immaturity on display here already. Now let's just calm down and discuss this like rational…"
"You'd like me to calm down, wouldn't you?" Ginny screamed at Hermione, her wrath turning instantly away from Ron. "You're afraid of what I'll say. But I think it's about time that everyone knows what you did."
"What I did?" Hermione asked, a stunned expression on her face. "Ginny, what are you talking about?"
"I trusted you!!" Ginny wailed. She now appeared very near tears. "I thought you were my friend, I thought you were helping me, but all this time…all this time you've only wanted Harry for yourself!"
"Our personal lives are really none of your business, Ginny," Hermione informed her crisply, cutting Harry off just as he was about to step in and defend his girlfriend's honour. "If you're going to insist on acting like a child, I suggest you do it somewhere else. Everyone at Hogwarts can see this little temper tantrum of yours out here."
Ginny scoffed. "That's the worst thing in the world to you, isn't it? 'Acting like a child.'
You've acted like an adult ever since you were eleven years old, but that's all it's ever been: an act.
Inside, you're a scared little girl who has to know more than anybody else because she's afraid that if she
doesn't, all the people she cares about will leave her behind. Well, one day they will, Hermione. School
doesn't last forever."
Hermione had not flinched at her words, but she remained silent afterward, her arms crossed defiantly. Harry's jaw
had dropped sometime during his ex-girlfriend's tirade and he too was rendered speechless. "You're wrong,
Ginny," Ron spoke up angrily, "and you should really stop spouting off this kind of rubbish about people who
care about you."
"Fine," Ginny muttered as she began to walk away. "Everyone take her side. See if I care."
Harry draped his arm around Hermione's shoulder and gave her a gentle, supportive squeeze. "You know she's wrong, don't you? About all of it."
Hermione gave him a simple nod but her gaze followed Ginny as she walked back to the castle. "Yeah, I know."
Without warning, Ginny spun around and pointed her wand at Hermione, muttering an incantation that nobody else around could hear. Before any of them could react, a hex shot from the end of Ginny's wand darted toward Hermione…only to rebound when it drew close to her, reverse course and strike Ginny herself. Within seconds, greenish globs of goo flew from her nose, their slimy, translucent wings flapping in her face. Somehow, she had been done in by her own bat bogey hex.
"That was brilliant, Hermione," Ron congratulated her with an awed expression. "How'd you do that?"
Hermione could only stare at a bewildered Ginny with an astonished look of her own. "I didn't do anything, Ron." She shared a concerned look with Harry. "I haven't the faintest idea what just happened."
***
"Someone will explain to me what just happened," Headmistress Minerva McGonagall pronounced authoritatively, peering down through her glasses at the students surrounding her, "or we will all stay right here, in my office, until classes resume on Monday. Consider it a prolonged detention if you like."
Sitting around the Headmistress' desk were Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. Ron looked decidedly embarrassed about the whole incident, while Luna alternated between staring adoringly at Ron and curling loose strands of her blonde hair with her wand, occasionally sending magic sparks flying to the top of her head. Harry and Hermione shared a look that clearly said that although they had wanted a word in private with McGonagall, this wasn't exactly what they had in mind. As for Ginny… "I don't even know why I'm here," she pouted, her face still sporting evidence of the bat bogey hex, despite the work of several cleaning charms. "I was the victim, after all…"
"Miss Weasley," McGonagall began, her expression longsuffering, "you provoked an altercation with Gryffindor's Quidditch captain in full view of the entire school, you attempted to hex the Head Girl and I have reason to believe that you slipped a diluted sleeping draught into the Ravenclaw Keeper's oatmeal this morning. You should feel very fortunate that I have not already assigned you detention and deducted house points." Turning her head back to face Luna and Ron, she said with a sigh, "Now, let's start from the beginning. Miss Lovegood falls from her broom, presumably because she had first fallen asleep…"
"Oh, I wasn't sleeping, Headmistress," Luna explained with a daffy smile on her face. "I was harmonizing my magical core with the snitch's. It requires a great deal of concentration, which is why my eyes were closed. I read about it in Bludgers Were Billywigs: the Secret History of Quidditch."
The Headmistress gave her a humoring nod. "Yes, I'm quite sure that you did. Let's move on to what happened next. At this point Mr. Weasley decides, quite chivalrously, I might add, that rather than save Miss Lovegood with a spell he will catch her in midair."
"I know it was stupid and it cost us the match," Ron said apologetically. "But I…I just couldn't watch her fall."
"I haven't brought you here to punish you for failing to win a game of Quidditch, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall assured him, although she had seemed less than pleased at the game's outcome. "I only wish to determine exactly what caused Miss Weasley's hex to rebound from Miss Granger and strike Miss Weasley herself, without Miss Granger even lifting her wand in her own defense."
"With all due respect, Headmistress," Hermione interjected, "I don't think any of us know what caused it. I certainly don't."
"Probably some protective jinx she dreamed up," Ginny muttered, still sulking over the entire situation. "Hermione's brilliant with jinxes."
"Headmistress," Harry began hesitantly, "d'you know what 'core links' are?" He was not certain that this was the proper time to bring up the matter, but as they seemed to be getting nowhere with this discussion, it was perhaps as good a time as any.
Minerva McGonagall tilted her head forward and gave Harry a probing glare. "Mr. Potter, are you suggesting that there is a core link between Miss Granger and yourself?"
Harry shrugged. "Well, considering that I have absolutely no clue what a core link is, I'm going to say 'no', at least for now." When the Headmistress' glare turned quizzical, he explained. "We found a message from Dumbledore in the pensieves he left for us."
"You did?!" McGonagall and Ron exclaimed at the same time. "What was it?" the Headmistress continued. Once they had related what they had found there, their former Transfiguration teacher looked thoughtful. "If Albus told you to trust me, I can only assume he meant with everything you know, including what you've been looking for these past few months. Do you feel comfortable discussing this in front of everyone present or shall I send the sixth years outside?"
Harry's eyes lingered more on Ginny than on Luna before he answered her, but ultimately he decided to shake his head 'no'. "They can stay. I suppose everyone will know about it eventually." He then proceeded to explain his quest for Voldemort's horcruxes, revealing how all but one had been destroyed, how he was fairly certain that he was the seventh and last one and finally that the Oracular Tower was not in fact able to predict the future but was instead haunted by the horcrux of a demented old French wizard.
As Harry spoke, Ginny seemed to now be more interested in finding out what he had been up to while away from her over the last few months than in continuing to sulk, Luna appeared to be giving an oblivious Ron a manicure with her wand and Headmistress McGonagall's face had gone almost entirely ashen. "Seven horcruxes," she repeated in horror. "The very idea of splitting one's own soul into that many pieces… I simply can't believe it." She rose to a standing position and looked out the window of her office, her eyes fixating on some distant point on the horizon. "As a seventh year at Hogwarts, I was fascinated by him. Many of the girls in my year were. Everyone knew how powerful he was, but if any of us had suspected…if we had even begun to suspect…" The Headmistress looked as though she might be sick.
"I know it's a lot to take in all at once, Headmistress," Hermione said sympathetically, "but if you could tell us something about these core links, what they are or how they might help Harry, it could very well allow him to defeat Voldemort once and for all."
"Your point is well-taken, Miss Granger," McGonagall agreed, her posture stiffening as she turned back around to face them all. "A 'core link' is formed between two magical individuals, usually a married wizard and witch, whose magical cores have been in close proximity to one another for many years. Their cores grow around each other, as it were, rather like two trees sometimes do. One partner gets a piece of the other's magical core and vice versa. Together, their magic is amplified exponentially."
Hermione frowned. "Why haven't we read anything about this before?"
"It is an extraordinarily rare occurrence in the wizarding world," Headmistress McGonagall explained dutifully, "perhaps even rarer than the creation of a horcrux. The wizards and witches who do end up with a core link have no control over the process and usually refrain from speaking about it to others unless they are pressed to do so. It is considered bragging."
"I don't understand," Harry said with confusion evident in his tone. "Did Dumbledore want me to make a core link with someone?"
"That is rather a puzzle, isn't it?" McGonagall replied as she heaved a sigh. "How could Albus expect such a young wizard, even one as accomplished as you, to create a core link in time for it to help you defeat You-Know-Who?"
"And not just one core link, either," Ron added, which drew a look of surprise from everyone else in the room except Luna. "Well, the message did say 'core links', didn't it?"
"Yes, of course," the Headmistress agreed instantly. Just then, a light bulb seemed to go off above her head. "Yes, of course," she said again, this time in a much happier tone of voice. "Why didn't I see it before?"
"See what before?" Ginny asked aloud, although everyone was thinking it.
"Mister Potter," McGonagall addressed Harry authoritatively, "please stand in that corner. Oh and put your wand away. Miss Granger, if you would, stand in front of my desk." Once they had arranged themselves accordingly the Headmistress continued, "Now Miss Granger, I would like you to try and attack Mr. Potter." When both Harry and Hermione looked at her like she had gone round the bend, she added, "Nothing overly harmful, of course. I certainly don't recommend you use a 'bat bogey hex'," here she paused to shoot Ginny a look of disdain, "but there are any number of relatively harmless spells you can try. May I suggest a good tickling charm?"
Hermione nodded, although she seemed uncomfortable with the entire situation. "Rictusempra." The charm reversed course before it even reached Harry and rebounded onto Hermione.
Within seconds, McGonagall had cast a 'finite incantatem', ending Hermione's torment at the hands of the perpetual tickling charm. "Headmistress, what just…?" she began to inquire.
McGonagall interrupted her brusquely. "Have a seat, Miss Granger. Miss Weasley, if you would be so kind as to repeat precisely what our Head Girl just did." When Ginny did not move right away, she added, "Allow me to rephrase. Miss Weasley, if you would prefer not to spend a month's detention with Professor Hagrid and myself, setting up new protective wards around the Forbidden Forest…"
At once, Ginny stood in front of the Headmistress' desk, her wand pointed in Harry's direction. "Rictusempra." Just as before, the tickling charm only returned to afflict its caster, leaving Harry unscathed.
"Fascinating," was McGonagall's only assessment of what was happening. After repeating the experiment with Ron (who attempted an 'expelliarmus' on Harry only to watch in horror as his own wand flew across the room) and Luna (who went with the jelly legs jinx and actually seemed to enjoy the results when her own legs began to wobble), the Headmistress decided to make the attempt herself.
"Petrificus totalus." A look of shock was frozen onto Harry's face as McGonagall's spell actually succeeded in petrifying him. She only allowed the expression to stay there for a moment, however, releasing him with a quickly spoken 'finite incantatem'.
"I don't understand, Headmistress," Hermione said, the barest hint of a complaint in her voice. "Why would Harry be able to reverse our spells but not yours?"
"Mister Potter is not consciously blocking the spells. Isn't that right, Potter?" Harry nodded shakily as McGonagall once again sat down behind her desk. "The reason your spells can't effect Potter is simple: over the years, he has formed core links with everyone else in this room. Wizards and witches bound by a core link are incapable of directly harming each other with their spells."
All five teenagers were dumbstruck by her words. After what seemed like an eternity, it was Harry who finally broke the silence. "How is that possible? You've just told us it takes nearly a lifetime to form a core link with someone."
"Under ordinary circumstances, it would," McGonagall explained patiently. "But your life has been fraught with circumstances that are rather extraordinary, wouldn't you say, Potter? I can only speculate as to the exact cause, but I suspect it has something to do with the horcrux inside you."
"The horcrux?" Ron asked confusedly, scratching his head with his now neatly polished fingernails. "How do you mean?"
McGonagall gave Harry a look that was almost motherly. "Ever since Harry Potter was a child, he has had two magical forces warring within him: a torn fragment of a dark wizard's soul on the one hand and the blood protection his mother died to give him on the other. A horcrux is a very evil thing; I would imagine it would be nearly impossible to destroy one that's inside a living creature without killing the host.
"When powerful magic is stored inside a young witch or wizard, it tends to seep out unexpectedly. How many of you had 'premature magical incidents' occur before you even got your wands?" From the looks on the five teens' faces, it was clear that all of them had. "Core links and horcruxes are antithetical entities, completely opposite each other in every way, almost like matter and anti-matter. It is difficult for me to believe they could co-exist peacefully for long. Over time, one will destroy the other.
The Headmistress' expression now reminded Harry very much of one Dumbledore used to have, one of pride mixed with expectant hope. "It is my belief, Potter, that the same magic that saved you from You-Know-Who the night your parents were murdered has forever linked your magic to those you have grown up with, those you care the most about, so that these 'core links' will be able to destroy the horcrux inside of you."
"Then why haven't they already?" Harry asked with frustration clearly apparent in his voice. "If I've made four of these core links and there's only one horcrux…"
"It is not simply a matter of numbers," McGonagall replied sagely. "Core links only reach their full power when you learn how to use them properly. Given time and the proper guidance, I'm quite certain they will overcome the final shred of You-Know-Who's soul."
A small, bitter laugh escaped Harry's lips. "Then Gerard was telling the truth. I really do have a power that can defeat Voldemort; a power that he could have shown me how to use."
"At a very high price, I'm sure," Hermione countered warily. "Headmistress, I don't think I quite understand what this has to do with how I avoided Ginny's bat bogey hex."
"I'm glad that's all you're confused about," Ron muttered. "I'm still hung up on Harry having a bit of my magic in him and me having a bit of his magic somewhere inside me. Is my patronus going to be half Jack Russell terrier and half stag now?"
"I hardly think that's likely," McGonagall answered him without the slightest trace of humour, "although if you wish to attempt to conjure one and put your mind at ease, I would have no objection, so long as you don't do it in my office. As to your question, Miss Granger, I can only offer you an educated guess. Since it seems as though Mr. Potter has managed to make four core links, it is reasonable to assume that they are not equal and that some are stronger than others. Given recent," here she discreetly cleared her throat, "developments, I would imagine that your core link with him is the most powerful."
Luna nudged Harry slightly with her elbow and gave him a sly wink. "Looks like your magical core's been harmonized, too."
Ginny's teeth clenched in anger. "Are you telling me that my hex backfired because Harry likes Hermione better than me?!"
McGonagall almost looked smug as she answered, "I suppose you could choose to see it that way." Before Ginny could say anything more or attempt to hex anyone else, she continued, "It appears as though we've adequately explained the seemingly inexplicable events that transpired earlier on the Quidditch pitch. Everyone except for Mr. Potter is dismissed."
Harry watched his friends depart the Headmistress' office as though he were looking at them for the first time. Ever since Dumbledore had shared the contents of Trelawney's prophecy with him in fifth year, he had assumed it would be he alone who would have to defeat Lord Voldemort. Now, courtesy of the message his old Headmaster had left for him, he knew that in order to accomplish this feat there would have to be others standing with him. The idea thrilled and terrified him all at once.
Idly, he wondered how and when the core links had been formed. 'Sometime in fifth year for Luna, I'm sure.' He thought back fondly to some of the conversations they'd had that had helped him get through that tumultuous year. 'It could have happened any time since first year for Ron and Hermione.' As for Ginny, it seemed probable that he had formed a core link with her when she was near death in the Chamber of Secrets. It made Harry wonder whether his fleeting feelings for her that had so consumed him last year had anything to do with the core link between them. Maybe he would never know for sure.
Yet it seemed to Harry as though something, or someone, was missing from the equation. Was it possible that he had formed a core link with someone else? "I suppose you're wondering why I asked you to stay behind," McGonagall said softly, interrupting his inner musings. "Or perhaps not. I'm sure you have a great deal on your mind. However, I felt honour bound to offer my services to yourself and your four friends…"
"Five friends," Harry corrected her suddenly, his voice now very soft. He was thinking of how he, Ron and Hermione had felt when Neville Longbottom had ended up in the hospital wing weeks earlier. Certainly, Harry felt a deep abiding sympathy for him that sprang from what had happened to his parents when he was only a child and the knowledge that it could just as easily have been his somewhat clumsy, pureblood friend who ended up as the Boy-Who-Lived. "I…I think I have a core link with Neville, too."
"Five friends, then," McGonagall amended with a curt nod, "the opportunity to learn how to use your core links under my tutelage. Although I am by no means an expert on the subject, I believe I am at least as qualified to instruct you as the horcrux of a centuries-old French mass murderer." Harry winced inwardly but remained silent. "Which brings me rather nicely to my next point. I will not tolerate a horcrux remaining on Hogwarts grounds. You may recall that the last time one of those monstrous things was inside the castle, things went rather badly."
"How could I forget?" Harry asked rhetorically, his mind wandering back to his second year at Hogwarts, when he ended up fighting a basilisk and Tom Riddle's diary in the Chamber of Secrets. "Wait a mo. Riddle's diary… Dumbledore wanted me to remember Riddle's diary." One of McGonagall's eyebrows rose curiously. "Of course! That's where the hidden memories are. In the Chamber of Secrets!"
"Are you certain?" the Headmistress asked him, her tone dubious. "How could Albus have even gained entrance…?"
"He had the ring, last year," Harry explained frantically. "Marvolo Gaunt's ring, one of Voldemort's horcruxes. Maybe before he destroyed it he used it to open the Chamber just like Ginny used Riddle's diary to talk to the basilisk…"
"Slow down, Potter," McGonagall said with a kind but cautious expression on her face. "It's not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm for the task ahead. I just need to know that when the time comes I can count on you to destroy Lord Montverde's horcrux."
"You have my word," Harry agreed instantly, "and I'd be honoured to have you teach me about the core links. But right now, I need to find out what Dumbledore thought was so important that he hid it in a place where only I could get to it." With any luck at all, whatever it was would be worth everything they had gone through to discover it.
This was a pretty long chapter (for "Going On" anyway), so there will be more about the core links in Chapter 13. Thank you for reading!
InsaneTrollLogic