The Shoebox by jardyn39

Rating: PG13
Genres: Action & Adventure, Mystery
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 12/03/2007
Last Updated: 30/03/2007
Status: Completed

Harry continues his first year as a Hogwarts teacher but it is his new involvement with Further
Education classes that reveals some disturbing developments at the Ministry. Meanwhile, as one shy
and reclusive student pursues a secret obsession in the castle, another frightened youth hides deep
in the Forbidden Forest. Neither knows of the other, but they are destined to meet before an
innocuous shoebox and share The Boy Who Lived’s final secret. This post-Hogwarts story is a sequel
to Journey Home.




1. We’re Free Monday, Apparently
--------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Summary**


Harry continues his first year as a Hogwarts teacher but it is his new involvement with Further
Education classes that reveals some disturbing developments at the Ministry. Meanwhile, as one shy
and reclusive student pursues a secret obsession in the castle, another frightened youth hides deep
in the Forbidden Forest. Neither knows of the other, but they are destined to meet before an
innocuous shoebox and share The Boy Who Lived’s final secret. This post-Hogwarts story is a sequel
to Journey Home.


**Introduction**


This is a continuation of “
Journey Home,” but I intended this to be a
stand-alone story. The previously introduced characters David Royce and Carmen Callidus feature in
this story too.

The character Carmen Callidus was first introduced in “
The Golden Serpent” and appeared again in
“The Pauper’s Time.”

“
Journey Home,” was written before HBP, but
as a post-Hogwarts story it is *almost* HBP compliant except that Carmen Callidus first
visited the school during Harry’s Sixth Year and *Snape* still taught Potions in that
year.

*


Harry is currently working in his first year as a junior teacher at Hogwarts. He was seconded
there from the Auror Department and still retains Auror status. He and Hermione are currently
engaged to be married. Harry has been appointed acting Head of Gryffindor House.


Hermione is currently a junior advocate working for the Wizengamot. She is a former assistant to
two previous Ministers of Magic. During Arthur Weasley’s short tenure as Acting Minister, she
pushed through wide ranging laws promoting equal rights for house elves, goblins and centaurs that
made her very unpopular.


Ron has only recently been reconciled with Harry. For months (which stretched into years) he
barricaded himself away from the outside world with only Luna for company. Ron’s ability to perform
magic was stripped from him during the final battle, but Harry had another wand made for him and he
is re-learning how to use it.


Ginny and Neville are married, although Ron didn’t approve of their relationship at first. They
are living in London in a semi-detached property that is owned by Harry. The House Elf
Co-Operative, run by Dobby, recently re-occupied Harry’s half so that Ginny and Neville could be
protected in Harry’s absence.


Professor McGonagall is currently Head Teacher at Hogwarts.


Harry was traumatised during the final battle, and for ages felt particularly guilty at having
to abandon Ginny and Neville to the Death Eaters while he dealt with Voldemort.


David Royce and Harry were the last to leave Arthur Weasley’s office set up to help people
traumatised during Voldemort’s reign. It was an alternative to a secure hospital. Only David Royce
killed more people during the final battle than Harry. Skilled in wandless magic, this quiet
unassuming cleric is still the subject of much rumour and gossip. He remains one of the most feared
people in the wizarding world. Royce has one surviving relative, a niece.


Carmen Callidus is a witch prodigy currently in her Third Year at Hogwarts. Harry first met her
when she was nine years old when he inadvertently fulfilled one of the many prophecies about her.
She has a snake familiar named Hydrus. She was particularly close to Snape and her favourite
subject was Potions. Dumbledore knew she would grow to become a very powerful witch, but hoped that
Harry and Hermione would guide her towards good rather than her evil potential. Since Harry arrived
at Hogwarts she has been bright, mischievous and happy. He even persuaded her to release Peeves;
she had locked away the poltergeist for making up rude limericks about her.


Draco Malfoy was killed by his father Lucius because he rebelled against Voldemort just before
the final battle. Harry interrupted his duel with Voldemort to kill Lucius Malfoy, much to the Dark
Lord’s delight.


Severus Snape vanished and has not been heard of since the fall of Voldemort. He is universally
hated.


*


**Timeline**


Harry defeated Voldemort at the end of his seventh year. He spent some time recovering before
joining the Auror training programme. He had a breakdown and took some months to recover before
re-applying to complete his training.


He spent about eighteen months as a full Auror before Arthur Weasley seconded him to
Hogwarts.


Harry joined the staff at Hogwarts after term started. This story continues Harry’s first year
as a teacher.


I originally intended this story to culminate on the night of the Halloween Feast at the end of
October, but the events before this must have taken longer so I cut this aspect.


*


**Chapter 1 - We’re Free Monday, Apparently**


Harry Potter wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and put his glasses back on again at his
second attempt. He could hardly breathe now, but he valiantly tried to regain his self-control.


“You really aren’t helping much, Harry,” said David Royce dryly, nervously fiddling with his
cufflinks and looking at himself in the full length mirror.


“I’m sorry,” Harry managed to say with a wide grin.


“Uncle David, I really should be getting back now.”


“You can’t leave me now! You still need to teach me my vows!”


“Just listen to them during the ceremony and repeat the words,” she explained patiently, patting
his arm for comfort. “You won’t just make up silly vows, will you?” she asked hopefully. “Please
remember these are *magical* vows, so it might be quite serious if you break them.”


David had just been pretending to recite vows like, “*I promise never to wear green socks on
Wednesdays*.”


“I really need to get back to Kathryn,” said Natasha. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s just as
nervous as you. It’ll be *fine*, I promise.”


Natasha turned to Harry and said pointedly, “Don’t forget the time, will you?”


Harry held up his hands and said, “It’s all under control. He’ll be front and centre at three
o’clock sharp.”


Natasha shot him *a just make sure you do* look and headed for the door. The bride-to-be
Kathryn would be with Hermione in a similar room on the other side of the building.


Harry allowed himself another wide grin the moment she’d gone. He wasn’t used to being ordered
around by one of his students, but as Natasha was David’s only living relative he was more than
happy to have her chivvying him up on this particular day.


Like so many other wizard children, she had been orphaned during Voldemort’s last few months.
Harry had no idea what actually happened to her parents. Neither she nor David spoke of their
deaths, but Harry could see they took strength from the close bond between them.


Harry had known and liked David for some time now, having met each other just after he had left
hospital. He had long enjoyed David’s understated sense of humour, but it was only since he had
been in his company when Natasha had been present that Harry was a different side of him
completely.


This wasn’t the first time that their quickfire exchanges had left him momentarily
incapable.


David always hated the company of strangers and chose to keep a very small circle of friends.
This did little to improve his reputation amongst the wizarding community at large, most of whom
only knew him by reputation. By his own admission, David had done some terrible things during the
fight with the Death Eaters at the Ministry.


The mistrust directed towards David was hardly enhanced by his gift of not needing a wand at
all. He actually had quite a collection of wands, but the majority been removed from a Death Eater
he had killed. David’s personal style of performing magic was long admired by Harry. Never showy or
loud, sometimes he’d hardly know that magic was involved at all.


Even so, it had been some time even for Harry to feel he could trust David who often liked to
remind him how he used to beg Hermione not to remain in his company alone. Hermione, of course, had
always trusted David implicitly and had simply dismissed Harry’s concerns.


As usual, she had been right.


Harry wondered sometimes what Natasha made of the open hostility shown towards her Uncle. If it
bothered her, she certainly didn’t show it.


He also knew that young Natasha would be giving a nervous Kathryn just the same level of support
and encouragement as she was giving her Uncle David.


In truth, Harry had been a little surprised when David and Kathryn had announced their
engagement. He hadn’t even known they were seeing each other, although he suspected Hermione had
known much more than she had let on having been good friends with both for some time.


“How did I ever get myself talked into this?” David asked himself. “This is all your fault, you
know?”


“You’ve said,” observed Harry lightly. David had often joked that Kathryn hadn’t been at all
interested in marriage until Harry and Hermione had become engaged.


“I bet I mess up the words, too.”


“You were word perfect at the rehearsal,” Harry reminded him.


“Yes, well that was before she got the hex right.”


“David, for the last time. You future mother-in-law hasn’t cursed you.”


“You could have her taken her away for questioning, though. That’s what Aurors are supposed to
do.”


Harry laughed and said, “No, David. Not even for you.”


“Too scared, eh? Not that I blame you, really. I mean, she’s practically the size of a Mountain
Troll. Twice the meanness, though.”


Harry rolled his eyes and checked the time again.


He got up and picked the jacket of David’s morning suit off its hanger and held it open for
David.


“It’s too early,” complained David.


“No it isn’t.”


“We’re late, then?” he immediately asked with concern.


“No, David, although the precise *jacket-on* time may be about to pass.”


“But?”


Harry just offered the jacket up again and this time David allowed himself to be dressed.


It had been David’s idea to dress in Muggle clothing for the ceremony. Harry had wanted to buy
Mr Weasley some elastic braces as a gift and David had accompanied him out into Muggle London one
lunchtime, completely sceptical that any such device could exist.


Harry remembered finding him staring open mouthed at the mannequin in the tailor’s window right
across the street from where they stood.


“I want one of them,” David had said in wonder. “Top hat too. The works.”


Harry had grinned at him and said, “Okay, let’s go in and ask what we have to do.”


“What? No, Harry. I wasn’t being serious. I should ask Kathryn first, anyway.”


“Well, let’s ask how much it will be, at least.”


They had crossed the busy road and entered a different world. Harry remembered how the traffic
noise died away the moment the shop door closed. For a long moment they were quite alone in the
shop. Harry looked around at the partly complete jackets and trousers hanging in long racks and the
many fabric sample books lying around.


“Good morning, Gentlemen,” said the tailor, making both Harry and David jump. “How may I be of
assistance?”


Harry guessed he was in his early fifties and was struck by how incredibly thin he was. He had a
kindly if careworn face that suited his almost completely bald head and his clothes were, perhaps
unsurprisingly, immaculate. He wore a rather worn cloth tape measure around his neck like a badge
of office.


“Um,” said David, completely unsure what to ask for.


“We came in to enquire about a suit for a wedding,” said Harry. He was about to ask how much and
how long it would take to make when the tailor smiled and interrupted him.


“Congratulations, Sir. May I ask when the happy event will take place?”


David seemed completely taken aback that the tailor was addressing him and not Harry.


“It’s alright, Sir,” the tailor said reassuringly. “I’ve had the honour of tailoring to the
needs of many young Gentlemen. I suppose one develops a knack for recognising the signs.”


“Scared witless, you mean?” asked David with a weak smile.


“As you wish, Sir,” said the tailor with a slight bow. “Now, most young men leave these things
to the very last minute. We generally like six to eight weeks to tailor a suit.”


“Oh,” said David, his face dropping.


“I can do it quicker,” said the tailor, “but please don’t ask the impossible. If you’re serious,
I suggest we take your initial measurements today. Would you like me to check our appointments
diary?”


“Yes he would,” said Harry without hesitation. They could have wizard robes made up at the last
minute but hand-made Muggle would need time to make.


David shot him a slightly worried look but then nodded. “Yes, please.”


The tailor opened a large fittings appointment book and thumbed through the pages with a
practised flourish.


“Hm. Would Sir be available for a fitting in three weeks time? The suit would need to be
finished and the final fitting a week after that?”


“Yes, that would be fine,” said David. “That’s for both suits, right?”


The tailor looked up enquiringly at Harry.


“You have to, Harry. Kathryn said it was traditional or something. We have to match.”


Harry snorted and nodded as the tailor lifted his tape measure from around his neck.


That had been a few weeks ago. Now the two of them stood side-by-side in front of the wide
mirror, each wearing identical grey morning suits.


“I think she’ll have you,” said Harry, assessing his friend’s appearance.


“I’m still wondering why she would,” admitted David.


“Well, remember that before you make too many Troll jokes at the reception.”


“No chance of that,” said David miserably. “Natasha has edited out all my best material.”


At a little before three o’clock, Harry and David walked the short distance to the Chapel, a
building officially designated the smallest wizarding building licensed to conduct weddings in the
country. They took a side door and followed a narrow gravel path around to the front of the
building. It was an overcast day but was otherwise dry and warm for the time of year.


Only a handful of guests had been invited, but the atmosphere was warm and friendly.


At the entrance to the Chapel, Kathryn’s father Mr Meadows waited for his daughter. Mrs Meadows
was trying to fix his buttonhole before dashing back to check their daughter was ready, but still
found time to give David a quiet word of encouragement. Harry tried not to smile as he remembered
David’s wildly inaccurate description of Mrs Meadows.


As far as Harry could see, the Meadows were as kind and friendly as their only daughter and
seemed to be looking forward to welcoming both David and Natasha to their family.


As they walked down the short aisle, it occurred to Harry what a good choice this Chapel had
been. Neither David and Kathryn had wanted a large function and Harry knew they would both be
nervous enough as it was without having to get married in imposing surroundings.


David had time to greet all of the guests as they went along, and Harry was pleased that at long
last he seemed to become more at ease if not exactly relaxed.


At three o’clock the Cleric appeared at the front and Harry ushered David to their positions as
they’d rehearsed. There was a small pop and Mrs Meadows appeared at her place, handkerchief at the
ready.


The front doors to the Chapel opened and they turned to see Kathryn pausing to allow Natasha and
Hermione to straighten her veiled silk wedding dress.


Hermione nodded when she was ready, and music began to play at once. Kathryn and her father
began walking down the aisle with her Bridesmaid Natasha following and grinning widely at
everyone.


Hermione circled around on the other side of the bench seating so she would be next to Harry
when he stepped back.


Soon the simple ceremony was under way.


Once he’d safely presented their Goblin wrought gold rings, Harry stepped back to join Hermione.
She looped her arm around his and held on tightly.


Harry smiled listening as the couple exchanged vows. Natasha was behind them both, mouthing each
of their vows as they spoke. She beamed at them when they had each spoken them without problem.


Natasha was a bright Ravenclaw, in her Third Year at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, she had struck up
a firm friendship with Carmen Callidus who was at that moment on Hermione’s other side.


As Carmen had effortlessly become the school’s chief mischief maker, Harry found he had needed
to give Natasha quite a few detentions as well. Natasha was much quieter than Carmen, but she was a
more than willing participant.


Undaunted, Natasha had insisted they use the detention time to plan her Uncle’s forthcoming
wedding decorations.


Harry hadn’t minded really. Some of the Transfiguration they had done for the flower
arrangements had been some of the most advanced work he had ever seen a student perform. Even
Professor McGonagall had been impressed enough to award her fifty House Points.


She’d need to think up a different distraction from now on, mused Harry as he watched the
ceremony continue.


Harry had always tried to set detention work that was *useful*, rather than just being a
punishment. He’d never once just set lines, remembering Hagrid’s comments in his own first year at
the school.


Indeed, Professor McGonagall had wryly commented on how popular his Monday night detentions were
becoming. That was when he’d asked to use the Great Hall so he could teach the students how to
perform advanced defensive magic. Professor McGonagall had given her permission, but only after
gently teasing him, suggesting Professor Lockhart’s old stage might still be useful provided he
could get some matching robes.


Far from discouraging breaking school rules, he knew he was actually rewarding adventurous
behaviour.


The only exception Harry made was if he was punishing a student for something spiteful. He
always made an effort to make those detentions both memorable and unpopular.


Hermione squeezed his arm and he came out of his reverie in time to see David and Kathryn
kiss.


*


Deep in the Forbidden Forest, a dishevelled figure shivered before a miserably small camp fire.
The purple flames were barely visible and gave off no smoke at all to betray his presence.


The forest seemed to be alive around the small clearing and with each noise the figure looked
fearfully around, squinting into the darkness between the trees.


Satisfied that there was no-one there, the figure rose to his feet and stepped towards the
treeline.


Groping around the bed of fallen leaves, he found the wand he had thrown away just a few minutes
before.


He listened intently again until he was entirely satisfied that he was alone. Then he pointed
the wand purposefully at the nearest tree.


“*Stupify*!”


Nothing happened. There was no red flash at all; not even the feeblest glow.


The youth cursed angrily under his breath.


He tried again. And again.


Eventually coldness and frustration caused him to discard the wand again and return to the fire.
The heat it gave out was pitifully weak and emitted none of the reassuring pops and smells of a
real fire.


He had been tempted to use the Muggle matches he had stolen from the coastal village where he
had landed ashore, but so far he had resisted temptation. Real fires could be seen, and he really
couldn’t afford to be discovered in his current condition.


He fumbled around in his damp robe pockets until he found his precious box of Weasley magical
fire starters. It had been the largest box they did, but there were very few left now.


Turning the tiny cardboard box over awkwardly he cursed again. His fingers were almost numb with
cold, but even if they had not he would have had difficulty. His co-ordination had been almost
non-existent for weeks now.


Fortunately, once started the magical flames burned almost indefinitely. His journey to the
forest had necessitated him striking camp at least once a night so far. At least here he should be
safe to stay put while he plotted his revenges.


The Weasley fire starters were the very last item from the box. The tent had been abandoned as
he prepared to cross the border into France. He had been particularly paranoid that night and was
sure he had been recognised.


The rest including the box had gone overboard during the rough Channel crossing.


He had even torn up and discarded the letter in a fit of temper; not that he would ever admit
regretting doing that.


“*Why did you have to open that damn shoebox*?”


He shuddered and searched around for something to distract him. He still wasn’t quite ready to
think about the wisdom of his decision.


What made him particularly angry was the fact that he had known exactly what would happen. The
letter had offered an exchange of sorts.


He hadn’t been tricked.


He hadn’t been used.


For a large part of his journey, he had been in complete denial of this. Indeed, he still
thought the letter could have been a lot clearer in terms of specifics.


Although his inward rants about having to suffer this wretched existence had occupied his every
waking hour, a small but fair part of his mind reasoned that all that had really happened was that
he had exchanged one miserable existence for another.


He shivered again and moved his open hands close to the flames in an attempt to warm
himself.


If the physical difficulties weren’t bad enough, he was becoming aware of his memory beginning
to fail as well. He was absolutely positive that he knew that the sap from three particular trees
in this forest could be mixed to create a simple potion. Unfortunately, he had no idea which trees
were needed; and he wasn’t as sure as he was yesterday what the potion would do for him,
anyway.


Wincing and pulling his hand back as soon as he felt the flames lick his skin, he let out a
stream of expletives.


This was followed by a very long moment of fearful silence as he listened for signs that he had
been overheard.


The silence was broken by his stomach rumbling loudly. How long had it been since he had
eaten?


He would wait a few hours longer and when it became darker he would venture towards the village.
He had no money and could not afford to be seen yet, but perhaps be could scavenge some food scraps
and maybe even a newspaper.


A branch fell somewhere off in the distance making him look around desperately.


“*Damn you, Dumbledore*,” muttered the figure after an age. “*Thought you’d have one last
laugh at my expense, didn’t you?”*


*


Harry pushed open the enormous entrance doors and ushered Natasha and Carmen through into the
Hogwarts castle entrance lobby.


They were giggling and dancing around, as they had all the way from Hogsmeade. Hermione followed
them inside and Harry closed the doors.


“Good evening, girls.”


Professor McGonagall was standing inside wearing a tartan dressing gown and holding a candle in
a silver holder.


“Hello, Professor,” the girls both answered at once.


“I take it you enjoyed yourselves,” asked their Headmistress with a warm smile.


“Oh, it was wonderful!”


They each tried to tell Professor McGonagall all of the day’s highlights but she held up her
hand.


“It’s very late, girls. I think you should go off to bed. I’ll be very interested in hearing all
about your day *tomorrow*.”


The girls began to protest, but Harry knew that Professor McGonagall wouldn’t relent and finally
they accepted defeat and bid them all good evening before Carmen went up to the Gryffindor tower
and Natasha went down to the Ravenclaw dormitory.


McGonagall smiled warmly after them before turning to Harry and Hermione.


“You needn’t have waited up for us, Professor,” said Harry.


She smiled and said, “I was about to retire for the evening.”


“No problems?”


“Oh, no. Actually, for a Saturday it was unusually quiet. Mind you, Carmen wouldn’t allow
mischief when she couldn’t be there to enjoy it!”


Harry snorted and they made their way over to the entrance to the Staff quarters. Carmen was
still the greatest trouble-maker since Fred and George Weasley left the school.


“She was a little worried you were going to make her miss the wedding,” said Hermione.


“No, I wouldn’t have done that. Mind you, she does still owe me a detention. I have thought
about letting her talk me out of it.”


Hermione looked at him with a shocked expression.


“That will hardly do her much good, will it, Harry?”


“Carmen’s detentions tend to be quite *eventful*, Hermione,” he explained, lifting the
tapestry for Professor McGonagall and revealing the secret door that led to the staff
apartments.


“You mean, you let her get the upper hand?”


“Only when I’m convinced she’s achieved something. Actually, when she knows she’s broken a
school rule there’s never a problem. I never like punishing her for just causing mayhem, though.
Unfortunately, she’s clever enough to hardly ever break school rules.”


“You’d think in a thousand years, most school rules would cover all eventualities, wouldn’t
you?” said Hermione.


Professor McGonagall laughed and nodded.


“Quite confidentially, they probably should. Still, a little rule breaking can be good for the
soul. Rebelling against the authority is an important part of growing up, after all.”


*


Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast a little earlier than he would normally do,
particularly for a Sunday morning. However, since he’d been away from the school all day on
Saturday and Hermione had left him a note saying she’d been invited to join Professor McGonagall
for breakfast in her rooms, he’d decided to come down early.


He was surprised to find the Hall almost empty.


There was a group of Ravenclaw girls gossiping about halfway down their House table and a
solitary Hufflepuff boy at the far end. There were no other staff members there at all.


Harry was tempted to turn around and go straight down to the kitchens, but he had wanted an
excuse to speak to the Hufflepuff boy for some time now.


“Morning, Mark,” said Harry as he approached.


“Morning, Sir.”


“You’re up bright and early. I was wondering if my watch was wrong.”


“Mine says Seven-Thirty, Sir.”


“Ah, I must have forgotten to wind it again,” observed Harry, removing his wristwatch and
correcting the time.


“Why don’t you put a self-winding charm on it, Sir?”


Harry chuckled and said, “I tried that on my previous watch. I think the charm was a bit much
for it, because all the hands started flying around. I tried to reverse the charm but now the hands
just go backwards.”


Mark laughed politely as Harry continued.


“As this watch was a gift, I thought I’d better not risk another charm.”


Mark smiled and nodded.


“Mark, I was meaning to ask you,” began Harry quietly when he was interrupted by a loud scream
from the Ravenclaws and one of the girls fell backwards off the bench seating. Harry turned to see
wands being wielded.


Harry didn’t react at once. He knew the girls were friends, so the chances were that any
disagreement between them would hardly amount to much more than a spat.


The Jelly-Legs Jinx and Rictusempra exchange that followed wasn’t serious, but he decided to put
a stop to it before it got out of hand.


“Sorry, Mark. You’ll have to excuse me,” he said, hurrying over to the girls.


“*Finite*!”


The girls looked around in shock and picked themselves off the floor.


“Are you alright?” asked Harry.


The girls nodded silently, looking very red-faced.


“I suggest you apologise to each other before I remember that magic outside the classrooms is
forbidden.”


“*Sorry*,” the girls mumbled together, all still looking down.


“I’m not going to ask who fired first, but if I see anyone attacking without warning they
shouldn’t expect me to be so lenient next time.”


Almost immediately the girls silently collected their things and left very quickly. He watched
their progress and only turned when they had left through the great doors.


Loud shrieks of embarrassed laughter from the lobby reached his ears, and Harry found it
difficult not to smile.


To his disappointment, Mark had also collected his things and gone too. Harry looked at his
watch and decided to go and find Professor Sprout.


*


Harry knocked on the door to Greenhouse Three and entered.


“Harry!” Professor Sprout shouted from the far end of the warm greenhouse. “You’re up early for
a Sunday?”


Harry smiled, pleased that he’d guessed correctly where she’d be. He closed the door and walked
down the path. The air in the greenhouse warm and very humid, and the smell of the tropical plants
brought back many happy memories of the times he’d spent there as a student.


Professor Spout was standing at one of her large potting tables tending to one of her more
exotic plants.


“Hi,” said Harry.


“Excuse me if I don’t stop, won’t you?”


“Of course. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I could do with some advice.”


“No problem. Harry, would you fill a dozen or so of those smaller pots with earth?”


“Sure. Are you taking cuttings?”


At these words the plant shivered and retracted itself into a defensive ball.


“*Sorry*,” mouthed Harry.


“Oh, not to worry,” she said at once. “I’m only interested taking cuttings from the
*bravest* plants. I wouldn’t dream of propagating any plants that were *afraid*. In fact,
I’d probably just throw them out if we had any of those around here.”


Harry smiled seeing the plant react. Gradually, the branches began to untangle themselves
again.


“So, what advice can I help with?”


“Well, I’m a little concerned about Mark Stannard. He’s one of your Third Years.”


“Mm. Bright boy. A little quiet.”


“Yes,” agreed Harry. “His work is fine; well, *acceptable*, anyway. He’s fine on theory,
but his practical work sometimes lets him down.”


“You think he’ll struggle with his defence examinations?”


“No, I think he’s worth a pass. Actually, was more concerned about *him*, rather than his
schoolwork. He always seems to be on his own.”


Sprout lowered her hands and put on a thoughtful expression.


“Yes, he always prefers to work on his own in my classes too.”


“This morning he was on his own in the Great Hall for breakfast. He was the only Hufflepuff up
at that time. It got me thinking: I’ve never seen him even eat with the others, ever.”


“Oh, he *must* have done.”


“When? Did you see him at the last feast even?”


“Um, I don’t recall.”


“I would have hoped that by now he’d have some close friends, although I’ve never picked up on
any direct animosity towards him.”


“That’s true. Um, so what do you propose to do?”


“Well, that’s the problem. I’d really like him to get involved in some after school activities.
He’s never done anything to warrant a detention. I was half tempted to trump something up like
Snape used to with me.”


“Please don’t mention that name in my presence,” Sprout said with false calmness.


“I’m sorry,” said Harry. It had taken him some time to get over the anger and bitterness he’d
directed towards his old Potions master, but he sometimes forgot that others who had known him were
less forgiving. For himself, he was much more comfortable leaving the hatred behind; although he
would probably still kill Snape on sight, of course.


“The problem is that your Monday detentions aren’t even considered punishments anymore, are
they?”


“I suppose. What if I cancelled Monday detention night and set it up again as a proper club
activity?”


“You’d need to ask Professor McGonagall for permission first. Besides, how will that help us
with Mark?”


“I will ask Professor McGonagall, but she’s having breakfast with Hermione this morning.”


“Well, I’ll consult the Fat Friar and ask if he can keep a discrete eye out for young Mark.
Actually, the Friar makes a point to speak to all the Hufflepuffs regularly.”


“Thanks. I didn’t think of that. Do you know if he has any particular interests or hobbies? I
wondered if I could introduce something into the lessons. Anything to get him more involved,
really.”


“I’ve no idea. In fact, I know very little about him at all.”


Harry finished helping Professor Sprout plant her cuttings and washed himself while she
comforted the distressed plant before bidding her goodbye and making his way back up to the
castle.


*


Harry returned to his staff quarters and tried to catch up with some essay marking before lunch.
He gave this up after a couple of hours and went off in search of Hermione.


The first place he tried was Professor McGonagall’s office.


The door opened as he approached the door but the large circular office was completely
empty.


He frowned slightly to himself. This office usually sealed itself when the Headmistress was
out.


Harry looked around at the portraits, but they were all dozing in their frames.


He was about to turn and leave when his eyes fell upon the old school sorting hat. He closed the
door and went over to lift it down from the shelf.


He hesitated a moment before placing the hat upon his head. As before, the brim of hat covered
his eyes completely. There was a moment of complete silence before the hat spoke to him.


“Ah, back again, Harry Potter?”


“Um, yes. I wanted to ask you something.”


“What makes you think that I would tell you about anyone else’s mind that I’ve looked into?”


“I don’t want to know anyone’s *secrets*. I’m just concerned about Mark Stannard. What are
his interests? Does he have any potential skills that would be worth helping him develop?”


“Oh, goodness yes,” the hat said quickly. “But, perhaps he’d prefer to keep those skills private
for now.”


“I only want to help him.”


“Yes, I see that. Nevertheless, what if someone had asked me to reveal *your* secret
skills.”


“What secret skills do *I* have?”


“You have many secrets, Harry Potter. The truth about the protections placed upon you were all
known to me the moment you placed me on your head to be sorted. Would you have liked me to reveal
them to anyone?”


“Um, no.”


“I knew you were a Parcelmouth, too.”


Harry sighed and said, “Okay, I get the message. You can’t help me.”


“I didn’t say I couldn’t help you, just that I cannot disclose the boy’s secrets.”


“Um, okay. How *can* you help?”


The hat remained annoyingly silent.


“I heard that,” said the hat, in response to Harry’s unkind thought. “You need to ask the
correct question.”


“How about a clue?”


“I can freely speak to you about yourself, your memories, your secrets and your potential,”
replied the hat without hesitation.


“You mean, Mark and I have something in common?”


“No. Actually, you may well have many things in common, but that isn’t important.”


“I should ask you about *myself*?”


“Yes.”


Harry frowned. Something about himself?


“Another clue?” prompted the hat.


“Um, thanks.”


“Why are you really here at Hogwarts?”


“Well,” began Harry, but he was cut off almost at once.


“No, Harry Potter. Why are you *really* here at Hogwarts?”


“I’m here because of what I did during the final battle. I killed so many people that night. I
didn’t give them a chance to redeem themselves, so I have to make amends.”


“Good. That’s much better. Dumbledore may have been his generation’s most powerful wizard, but
his greatest strength was his teaching.”


“I remember.”


“Only from one perspective. I’ve always seen you both as extraordinarily similar you know? He
too managed to consult me several times as a young man. He too felt the same feelings as you when
he began to teach, all those years ago.”


Harry smiled.


“My point is simply that your life experiences may well have a direct relevance to young Mark.
He needs guidance, although he may not yet realise it. The moment he placed me on his head I could
see that his driving ambition might lead to difficulties.”


“But, you didn’t put him in Slytherin. I guess that means he isn’t ambitious for himself? Oh,
you won’t answer that, will you?”


“No, of course not.”


“So, what should I do?”


“You may not be able to read his mind, but you can still *listen* to him. There will come a
time when he will realise he needs help. I think it likely that he will seek your help; even if he
attempts to disguise his needs.”


“Okay, he won’t tell me outright what he wants,” said Harry to himself. “What if?”


“Um, I think you’ve been discovered,” said the hat cutting across him.


Harry opened his eyes and lifted the sorting hat off his heat. Professor McGonagall was looking
at him with an amused expression on her face.


“Are you still wondering if the hat sorted you into the correct House, Harry?”


Harry snorted and returned the hat to its shelf.


“Sorry, Professor. I was hoping the sorting hat would help me with a student I’m concerned
about.”


“Mark Stannard?”


“Yes. How did you know?”


“Pomona told me you consulted her earlier this morning. I’ve given permission for the ghosts to
report on his activities.”


“I didn’t know they needed your permission.”


“We have developed an understanding, that’s all. For years Dumbledore refused outright to allow
anyone but Sir Nicholas to follow you around the school. Needless to say, Sir Nicholas never
betrayed any of your confidences, even to Dumbledore. His mission was purely to ensure your
safety.”


Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.


“Please take a seat, Harry, and tell me about your concerns over young Mark. Hermione will be a
little late for lunch anyway. I left her with Carmen and Natasha. I suspect they want to persuade
her to let them organise your entire wedding.”


*


As they walked down to the Great Hall for Sunday lunch, Harry mused at how surprised he had been
at everyone’s reaction to his concerns about Mark.


After all, he had no evidence that anything was really wrong.


Yet here he was, descending the stairs with no less than eight members of staff who had joined
them for an impromptu case workshop.


It had certainly been useful, though.


As Harry had suspected, Mark seemed to spend his time working alone in all of his other subjects
as well. He also studied diligently and had never been in any kind of trouble. His marks were
upper-average for most subjects, but he performed poorly in none.


As a group, they had agreed not to single Mark out in any way for the present. This meant no
unwarranted detentions or point deductions. Professor McGonagall had also warned against asking him
more questions in class, which Harry was certainly considering. Mark seemed happiest just to blend
in, after all.


Harry had also told everyone he was considering cancelling his usual Monday night defence
detentions.


Professor McGonagall agreed, but asked him not to start up a Duelling Club just yet. He had to
agree with her point that duelling would tend to encourage competitiveness, whereas they wanted to
try and encourage a more inclusive approach.


All thoughts of Duelling Clubs went from Harry’s head as soon as he entered the Great Hall,
however.


Every table had flower arrangements and the Staff table was hardly visible under the display of
ribbons and flowers.


Hermione chuckled seeing his less than ecstatic expression.


“They thought we’d like to see some no obligation samples, Harry,” she explained. “Aren’t they
wonderful?”


Harry didn’t trust himself to answer.


*


Harry closed the door to his classroom and turned to face the two girls. Carmen was looking a
little flushed but otherwise very defiant. Natasha was just looking down at her feet.


“I’d like you to explain why it was necessary to charm those flower arrangements like that,” he
asked.


“It was their own fault,” said Carmen.


“Flower arrangements don’t usually spring to life and attempt to strangle people,” observed
Harry.


“They would have spoiled otherwise. That prat had no business trying to vanish those
flowers.”


“Carmen, not everyone has such a love for flower arrangements. They were a bit much, weren’t
they? There was hardly any room for the plates and dishes!”


“So? They looked nice.”


“Nice enough to pick?”


Carmen grinned wickedly.


“We only charmed the plants to *defend* themselves.”


“Clearly,” Harry agreed. “Carmen, I don’t think putting a dozen people in the Hospital Wing is
quite so amusing.”


“Well, they shouldn’t have interfered.”


“You didn’t actually ask anyone if you could decorate their tables, did you?”


“They were pretty!”


“They were pretty *dangerous*, you mean? I’ve still no idea how to get rid of the damn
things.”


“Neither have we,” admitted Natasha, looking up sheepishly.


“What?”


“We didn’t actually intend for them to start attacking people,” said Carmen. “We just wanted
them to discourage people from spoiling them before Hermione could decide which ones she
preferred.”


“What charms did you use?”


“Well, we used an *Animatus* animation spell in combination with a learning charm and a
shield charm for good measure.”


“No wonder I couldn’t get rid of them!” exclaimed Harry. “They will just keep learning from each
attack and grow stronger.”


“We wondered about just letting them lose in the Forbidden Forest,” said Natasha.


“That’s no good,” said Harry. “There’d be nothing to keep them in check.”


“Poison?”


“I assumed they would react just as badly to weed killer,” said Harry. “They are only cuttings,
though. How long were they expected to last?”


“Um, we put a freshness charm on them too. They won’t need feeding or watering for a month or
two.”


“Is that all?” he asked sarcastically.


“So, where will we do Monday’s detention?”


“There isn’t going to be a Monday detention. Before all the commotion I asked Professor
McGonagall to approve an amnesty. Monday detentions are cancelled until further notice.”


“What! No way! You can’t do that!” cried Carmen.


“I think you’ll find I can,” Harry said coldly. “I was clearly wrong to encourage you to learn
such advanced Transfiguration when you are not old enough to use those skills responsibly.”


“*Please* don’t cancel the Monday detention.”


“We’ll be blamed,” added Natasha miserably.


“Harry, you are always going on about how important defence is.”


“*Harry*, is it? I thought we agreed it would be *Sir* in the Classroom.”


“So? Give me a detention then,” said Carmen cheekily. “We’re free Monday, apparently.”


“I expect you will both have detentions, but I’ve asked Professor McGonagall to set your
punishments. Needless to say, she was particularly disappointed in you both.”


“But,” began Carmen, but tears were forming in her eyes and her throat caught.


Harry knew how much Professor McGonagall’s approval meant to both girls. He still felt keenly
the memory of those times he’d felt Dumbledore’s disappointment in him.


“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “If it’s any consolation, you should know that I was planning on
cancelling the regular Monday detentions before your efforts today.


“If you have any ideas as to how we might get rid of the things please let me know at once.
Otherwise, I’ll see you in lessons on Monday. Please remember the Great Hall is strictly out of
bounds for the time being. Students will eat in their Common Rooms for the present. You may
go.”




2. Yeah, It’s His Nerves, Harry
-------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 2 - Yeah, It’s His Nerves, Harry**


Harry entered the Great Hall very warily. The errant flower arrangements transfigured by Carmen
and Natasha had completely taken over the hall. Every table and chair was covered with thick vines
and creepers were moving menacingly across the floor and climbing the walls.


Fortunately, there were still sufficiently wide gaps on the floor for him to enter without
treading on any of the plants.


He had only just made it out of there the last time. He’d tried a few *Reductor* spells and
had been a little shocked at how violently aggressive the plants had become.


Harry had decided to wait a few hours for the plants to calm down before trying anything
further.


Fortunately, this tactic seemed to have worked.


As he pondered what to do, the door opened again. Harry turned to warn whoever it was not to
risk entering.


“Neville?”


“Hi, Harry. Having fun?”


“You could say that.”


Neville stepped carefully into the hall.


“These were Transfigured into flower arrangements, right?”


“Yes, that’s right. They’ve gone a bit wild since then, though.”


“Do you know what they were transfigured *from*?”


“Yes. Carmen told me they used a single plant. It was a discarded cutting from one of the
greenhouses. A vine with tiny red and white flowers.”


“*Rosa Estrangulador*?”


“Yes, that’s the one. I tried to transfigure them back, but it didn’t work. I’ve also tried
various poisons and weedkillers too.”


“No, those won’t work,” said Neville, now standing next to Harry. “Actually, *Rosa
Estrangulador* was a good choice for transfiguring flower arrangements from. It grows fast and
has a number of interesting, if mild, magical properties. It grows quickly in harsh conditions and
is very hardy.”


“You’re telling me,” agreed Harry. “So, any ideas?”


“I’d feed it.”


“Neville, we really do need the Great Hall back.”


“I’m not suggesting it should stay here,” said Neville with a smile. “*Rosa Estrangulador*
usually dies in the wild when it gets too big for the nourishment in the surrounding
environment.”


“Um, why would feeding it help?”


“What happened when the flower arrangements were attacked, in the beginning?”


“Well, feelers strung out and enveloped anyone standing too close.”


“Right. I think all this growth is just the potential defensive growth that was built into the
plants. I also think that the plants haven’t expended their internal reserve of growing energy yet.
I think it has been feeding on the magical energy in the school.”


“Magical energy? No wonder its getting stronger.”


“We’ve no chance of starving it of magical energy. The enchanted ceiling alone is probably
sufficient for its needs. Look how it is trying to grow up the walls.”


“I wondered why that was. I just assumed the plant thought it was heading towards the
light.”


“We just need to make it grow a little more quickly than it can cope with. I think we can find
what we need in the greenhouses, Harry.”


“Great. Let’s go.”


*


Harry transfigured a massive low stone trough and then helped Neville fill it with the carefully
selected topsoil.


“Thanks for coming to help us, Neville. I really appreciate it.”


“Oh, it’s no problem. I wanted to see you anyway, before I forgot.”


“Really, why?”


“I’ve forgotten.”


They laughed.


“Actually,” continued Neville, “Ginny and I were hoping you and Hermione would be free to come
over for a long weekend. Luna and Ron have agreed to stay over too, but we need to find a weekend
when everyone is free.”


“That sounds great, Neville. Thanks. I’ll see when Hermione is available.”


“Is she still spending most of her time in London?”


“Well she still commutes from here most days when the Wizengamot is in session.”


“I think that’s enough topsoil. Can you levitate it outside?”


“Sure,” said Harry.


Neville opened the end door and Harry floated the trough outside into the open.


“I still can’t believe you can lift that much. There must be tons of earth in there! I can
barely manage a single pot plant.”


“It’s just practice, Neville,” said Harry modestly.


“Put it down a moment, will you?” asked Neville. Harry did so and watched with interest as
Neville opened a packet of magical growth powder.


Neville walked from one end of the trough to the other, sprinkling the power over the dirt and
waving his wand in a complicated pattern.


“Good,” he said, straightening up. “We need to wait about ten minutes before the *Rosa
Estrangulador* can be allowed to feed on it. Can you levitate it up to the Castle?”


“No problem,” said Harry, raising the trough up a few feet off the ground. “We can take a short
cut. It will meet us there.”


Neville shook his head as the trough flew higher and headed off towards the castle entrance
without needing Harry’s further guidance.


“Harry, how long have you been able to do things like that?”


“It’s nothing special. I suppose I’ve become a little more ambitious since the Forbidden Forest
made me see the consequences of my actions.”


“We were all changed a little by that night,” admitted Neville. “Still, I’ve never even heard
Dumbledore doing anything like that.”


“Oh, I’m sure he could have,” said Harry, pressing a stone so that a secret passageway opened
before them.


“You hardly need to use your wand for anything now, do you?”


“Yes, I do!” said Harry, his laugh echoing down the passageway. “Some things are easier than
others to do without a wand.”


They emerged in a staircase one level below the entrance lobby.


“If I’d have known about this passageway I wouldn’t have been late for classes half as many
times!”


Harry laughed and led Neville outside where the trough was waiting for them a few feet above the
ground.


Neville pushed open the entrance doors and Harry levitated the trough inside. After a tricky
moment while they manoeuvred the trough towards the hall doors, narrowly avoiding hitting the
hourglasses recording the House Points, they were ready.


Harry opened the Great Hall doors as quietly as possible and pushed the trough inside.


“It’s going to react when I lower it to the floor,” warned Harry. “There are too many
vines.”


“Don’t worry. Just lower it as slowly as possible.”


Harry lowered the trough and watched as the feelers removed themselves from under the clay
trough. They almost seemed to smell the topsoil and were becoming more and more animated.


Finally, the trough came to a rest on the floor. A moment later, feelers dived into the topsoil
from all around.


“Now, vanish the stone trough, leaving the topsoil to fall over the floor,” directed
Neville.


There was a *pop* and the trough vanished. A mass of heaving roots spilled out onto the
stone floor. The topsoil was being consumed as they watched.


“Um, Neville, I do hope this was the right thing to do.”


“Let’s close the doors and give them time to eat all the topsoil. It will take a while before
the plants begin to die.”


“Okay. I should take you up to see Professor McGonagall. She asked to see you when she heard you
were coming.”


Neville reached out to grab hold of Harry’s arm.


“What is it, Neville?”


“Harry, I want you to promise me something. I want you to start using your wand, even for things
you don’t need to.”


“What’s the point in that?”


“I’m serious, Harry. Please. I’ve been hearing things around the Ministry; rumours about some
new legislation that is being considered.”


“How could that affect me?”


“Wandless magic might become outlawed. If that happened, you’d probably lose your job here at
the very least. At worst, you might just end up in Azkaban.”


“What’s so bad about magic performed without a wand?”


“Harry, anything that is different or unusual can be perceived as a threat. How many of the Dark
Wizards you have faced were proficient in magic without the aid of a wand?”


“Um, quite a few,” admitted Harry. “That was only because Voldemort trained them. They’d have
done dark magic with or without a wand, though.”


“I agree, but you still need to be careful. You could be tagged as a threat just by
association.”


Harry frowned.


“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”


*


Harry knocked on Professor McGonagall’s office door. It opened at once and he stepped aside to
allow Neville to enter first.


Inside, Carmen and Natasha were standing in front of the large claw-footed desk. Both were red
faced and looking down at their feet.


Professor McGonagall stood and said, “Welcome, Neville. Girls, this is Neville Longbottom. He
was kind enough to come along and help remove your handiwork from the Great Hall.”


Neville smiled kindly and said, “It was really no trouble. Hello, Carmen. I remember you from
when you first stayed here. We must have been in our Sixth Year. I seem to recall you enjoyed
swapping all my plant labels around.”


She looked up and gave an embarrassed smile.


“This is Natasha, Neville,” said Professor McGonagall. “She originally had the idea to
transfigure the flower arrangements.”


“Really?” he said, sounding impressed.


Natasha smiled at him weakly.


“I should leave the plants over-night,” recommended Neville, “but you can begin to start
clearing up from tomorrow. Don’t worry if magical vanishing doesn’t work. I suspect that the plants
have absorbed too much magic to allow simple vanishing or further transfiguration. You’ll need to
clear it up manually, I’m afraid.”


The girls nodded, and Harry guessed that Professor McGonagall had decided they should be the
ones to clear up all the mess.


“The good news is that the plants should make excellent compost for Professor Sprout. All that
magical energy will be put to good use, I’m sure.”


“Won’t *any* magic work?” asked Natasha.


“Well, you can try,” suggested Neville with a smile. “I just wouldn’t be too hopeful.”


Carmen, typically, looked like she was looking forward to proving him wrong.


“Very well, girls, you may go,” said Professor McGonagall.


The girls bid them goodbye and left.


As soon as Harry had closed the door after them, Neville said, “I think I should warn you,
clearing those plants isn’t going to be a very pleasant task.”


“It’ll be safe for them, though?” asked Harry at once.


“Oh, yes. The plants should be quite dead, but you may notice a slight odour. Oh, and they have
no hope of using magic, either.”


“Good,” said Harry. “A bit of non-magic work will do them both good. I’ll seal the doors tonight
and make sure it’s safe before I let them in to begin clearing up. Well, Neville, you’ve rescued me
yet again.”


Neville laughed.


“Fancy a pint in the Village before you go?”


“I’m sorry, Harry, I can’t. Ginny is expecting me back for dinner promptly. Besides, don’t you
have evening classes?”


“What classes are those? I’ve cancelled my Monday detention.”


“I’m afraid I volunteered you to help out,” said Professor McGonagall. “The Ministry additional
education tutor has been taken ill and they asked if we could spare anyone for an evening.”


“Oh,” said Harry. “Um okay. What, where, when?”


*


“Good evening, Harry.”


Harry turned, curious to see who was addressing him. He had just arrived at the Ministry of
Magic and was about to check in with the watch-wizard.


“Professor!” exclaimed Harry, and he hurried over to Dumbledore’s portrait. He had several
portraits hanging in prominent positions within important buildings throughout the wizarding world,
including a couple that were rumoured to be abroad.


“I see you’re looking well. How is Hermione?”


“Fine, thanks. What are you doing here? I’m sure there must be better places to hang out rather
than the Ministry Foyer!”


“Oh, I don’t know. Occasionally old friends drop by.”


“You should come up to the school more.”


“Well, I thought I’d leave Minerva in peace for a while yet. I wouldn’t want her to feel obliged
to not to make changes as she see fit. Did you have an appointment here?”


Harry looked down at his watch.


“Unfortunately, I’m already late. I’m supposed to be teaching some class this evening.”


“Then don’t let me detain you any further. Perhaps I’ll speak to you later?”


“Sure,” said Harry, but Dumbledore had already gone.


Sighing, Harry trudged over to the security desk.


“Hi. I’m Harry Potter. I’m standing in for one of the evening tutors, but I don’t know their
name or what the class is.”


“There’s only one class tonight,” said the guard. “They are in the room opposite. Good
luck.”


“Thanks,” said Harry, walking over to the room where the class was being held and wondering why
he needed wishing luck.


He pushed open the door and immediately had to dive out of the way as a red stunner flew right
for him.


He looked up to see a chaotic display of various sparks and stunners bouncing off the walls.


“*Finite Incantatum*!” bellowed Harry, getting to his feet.


“Harry!” shouted Ron with delight. “Did you see my great stunner!”


“Yes, Ron, it was a nice stunner,” said Harry dryly as he walked to the front of the class.


“Good evening,” said Harry. “My name is Harry Potter and I’m currently a teacher at Hogwarts.
I’ve been asked to stand in this evening. I understand your regular tutor is unwell.”


“Yeah, it’s his nerves, Harry,” said Ron.


Harry bit back a comment.


“Why don’t we all put our wands down on the desks in front of us?” he suggested, placing his own
wand on the lectern.


“Good,” he said, feeling a little safer. “Now, I’m afraid I don’t know anything about the
subject I’m supposed to be teaching you, nor the level of attainment you want to achieve.”


“We weren’t exactly learning any particular *subject*,” said a middle-aged witch near the
front.


“Okay. I take it that most of you were hit with a magic-draining curse?”


They nodded grimly.


“Mm. Those curses were nasty but very effective. The good news is that after time, you can begin
to re-learn your skills. Ron’s stunner proved that, although his aim could do with some work,” he
added. Ron just grinned back at him.


“The key thing is to get the fundamentals right. Remember, when we were in our First Year at
Hogwarts? We all had to learn the basic theory before anything worked for us.”


There was a collective groan at these words.


“Alright, what’s the problem?” asked Harry.


“We’ve had *basic theory* up to our eyes!”


“Well, maybe you’re ready to move on then,” Harry said encouragingly. “Who can tell me the five
fundamental rules concerning Transfiguration? Anyone? Don’t be shy?”


No-one volunteered an answer.


Finally, Ron raised his hand.


“Yes, Ron.”


“Um, the thing is, Harry. Just because we’re fed up with *basic theory*, it doesn’t mean we
can actually remember any of it.”


Harry smiled and nodded.


“Alright, maybe we should try a more practical approach. I should warn you, however, that you’ll
never pass an OWL.”


Harry reached out and silently summoned his wand to his hand.


“Let’s all stand and hold our wands up.”


Everyone stood.


“Aim anywhere except directly at another person, but don’t try to perform magic. I just want to
see how you’re holding your wands.”


Harry went round to everyone and checked their grips. Each needed some correction.


“Now, the first thing we are going to do is just sparks. Don’t think I’m belittling you by
asking you to do this. Sparks are safe for everyone, and you’ll use the same skills as many other
wand spells.”


He got them producing sparks, but only Ron managed a half decent display.


“Now, let’s do that again, only one at a time.”


He stood beside each person and held his hand over theirs as they attempted again.


“*Feel* how the wand reacts in your hand. It’s almost warm to the touch.”


By the time he had finished, all of the students were delighted to be able to send sparks
several feet into the air all on their own.


“Good,” said Harry. “You’ve made very good progress. I’m sure your tutor will be impressed when
they see. Please try and practise whenever you can. When is your next lesson, by the way?”


“Monday, Harry,” said Ron. “Um, why don’t you carry on teaching us?”


There was an enthusiastic murmur of agreement at this notion.


“I’m flattered,” said Harry with a smile, “but I’m sure your regular tutor will do just fine.
I’m usually taking detention on Monday evenings, anyway.”


The group packed up their things and left leaving Ron and Harry in the classroom.


“You know, we’d make much better progress with you teaching us, Harry.”


Harry sighed and said, “Is your regular tutor so bad?”


“I’ve been coming here for weeks now, and producing a few sparks is about all I can manage. My
stunner earlier was just a fluke really.”


“Can’t Luna help you practise?”


“Yes, she does. I think all of us are getting family help, but we need that bit more. You know
what you said about not passing an OWL?”


“Yes?”


“Well, that’s it, really. We’re never going to sit an exam, so why bother with all the
theory?”


“I suppose you have a point.”


Just then there were shouts and cheers from outside in the foyer. They looked up and through the
open door Harry could see what looked like a giant firework engulfing the security wizard’s
desk.


“Sounds like a certain guard is getting payback for all the jibes,” said Ron with a grin.


“Do you know who is in charge of further education here at the Ministry?”


“Not a clue, Harry. Hermione signed me up for the course. Hey, Neville and Ginny have invited us
over to their place for a long weekend!”


“Yes, Hermione is going to let them know what dates are best for her.”


“So, you’ll at least think about helping?” Ron persisted.


“I’ll talk it over with Professor McGonagall. If she agrees I can take a few hours off each
week, then I’ll try and help. I don’t want to tread on anyone’s toes, though. What’s your regular
Tutor’s name?”


“Mr Tonbridge.”


“Did he ever teach at Hogwarts?”


“I doubt it. He’s hopeless.”


“Is that entirely fair?”


“Well, maybe you should sit in on one of his classes and decide for yourself,” said Ron, looking
at his watch. “I should be getting back to Luna. It’s much easier now we’ve got a Floo
connection.”


“Okay, Ron. Give my love to Luna.”


“Sure,” said Ron as he went through the door. “Thanks for letting us off homework!”


“You were supposed to get homework?” Harry asked the empty room.


He walked to the front of the class and with a wave of his wand, all the desks straightened up
and the chairs jumped off the floor and did a complicated little somersault before landing on the
desks leaving the floor clear for the cleaners.


He was about to put the lanterns out when his eye caught movement in a small landscape painting
at the back of the room.


“Professor?”


“Ah, hello again, Harry. I hope you don’t think I was being nosey, although that’s exactly what
I was.”


Harry smiled and shook his head.


“Did you see any of Mr Tonbridge’s classes, Professor?”


“Yes. He’s not quite as hopeless as Mr Weasley says, but he isn’t a particularly good
communicator.”


“What sort of syllabus are they supposed to be following?”


“Look in the lectern, Harry.”


Harry walked to the front of the class and opened a thin drawer in the front. He took out a
single sheet of parchment.


“Well, these aren’t going to do them much good. I’d have thought learning how to use magic to
cook and clean would be more useful.”


“That’s a rather good idea.”


“You know, judging from this list it’s almost as if the Ministry don’t want them to recover
their skills.”


Harry touched the parchment lightly with his wand. There was a brief flash and a second
identical copy was created which Harry pocketed.


“I suppose I’d better go and apologise for my class waking up that security guard,” said Harry.
“Goodnight, Professor.”


*


Harry smiled as Hermione put her arms around him and kissed his neck. He was sitting at their
writing desk with a long scroll of parchment in front of him.


“Come to bed, Harry. You need sleep.”


She pressed her warm cheek against his and hugged him.


“I know. I just wanted to write down some ideas I had for Ron’s evening classes,” he said,
putting down his quill.


“How many are in the class?”


“There are twenty of them, except two couldn’t make it because they couldn’t get a
baby-sitter.”


“It must be difficult raising a family without magic.”


“Yes. I had the impression that the Ministry compensation payments weren’t exactly generous,
either.”


“Of course, they won’t be able to get paid work, will they?”


“I was thinking about that. I mean, Ron does okay, doesn’t he? His reduced magical abilities is
actually an advantage, in that he doesn’t set off Fred and George’s stocks.”


“Well, yes.”


“Why can’t we find jobs for them all?”


“It isn’t immediately obvious what they could do, though.”


Hermione let him go and pulled him up by his hand.


“Enough for tonight, Harry.”




3. I Think That’s Almost Cheating, You Know?
--------------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 3 - I Think That’s Almost Cheating, You Know?**


Harry tapped the lock of the door and pushed it open. Warm, moist air hit his face as he peered
into the Great Hall.


He immediately clamped a hand over his face.


“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Carmen from behind him.


The rank smell of decaying plants was quite overpowering. Blinking back tears, Harry stepped
into the hall.


He kicked a couple of feelers that yesterday had been actively feeling their way all over the
Great Hall. It just fell apart, oozing a foul smelling green sap that steamed.


“Okay, girls. I think it’s safe. You can come in.”


Harry turned, half expecting to have to pull them inside with him. To his surprise, however,
both girls entered.


“I think that’s almost cheating, you know?”


“Professor McGonagall didn’t say we couldn’t use magic,” said Carmen defiantly from within her
bubble-head charm. Her voice was only slightly distorted.


“Where are the things you’ll use to clean up with?” he asked.


Carmen held her wand up.


“Neville said magic wouldn’t do it. You’ll need shovels, wheel-barrows and all-sorts.”


Carmen just rolled her eyes.


Harry gave up with his hand and produced his own bubble-head charm.


“That’s better,” he said, taking a deep breath of fresh smelling air. “Go on, then. I want to
see you make a start clearing up, then I’ll leave you in peace for a couple of hours.”


“Hours?” said Carmen contemptuously.


Harry just crossed his arms and waited.


Carmen walked forward and waved her wand over one of the house tables. He knew she was testing,
just as he had done.


“Hm,” she said, deep in thought. “Ordinary vanishing charms won’t work. Nor will reductor
curses.”


Natasha stepped beside her and whispered a suggestion. Carmen shook her head thoughtfully and
remained deep in thought for a moment.


Finally she said, “I’ve decided.”


Carmen walked along the table until she found a small patch of bare timber. She held up her
wand, and Harry wondered if she might actually manage it.


She lightly touched the timber tabletop with the tip of her wand and there was a brief flash.
Blue flames erupted all along the table and the green shoots began to shrink back.


“*Yes*,” whispered Harry, willing her to succeed, but suddenly there was a *pop* and
the plant exploded.


Thick green sap covered the two girls from head to feet. The smell was so bad it even got
through Harry’s bubble-head charm.


He stepped forward. They were looking at each other with identical expressions of horror as the
disgusting sap soaked into their clothes.


“Professor Sprout has prepared an area next to Greenhouse Two where she wants to compost the
remains of these plants. She left the things you’ll need there.”


The girls just trudged off, walking as if they were wearing space suits.


“I’ll check on you later,” Harry promised.


*


Harry knocked on Professor McGonagall’s office door, wondering why she had asked to see him
during morning break. He didn’t mind, but he wanted to collect a Grindylow from his office for his
next lesson.


The door opened.


“Ah, Harry,” said Professor McGonagall. “Thank you for coming.”


Harry walked into the room and a wizard Harry had never met before stood up to greet him.


“Harry, This is Mr Saulkins from the Ministry of Magic. He’s in charge of Further
Education.”


“Hi,” said Harry, shaking his hand and trying to ignore his glance up at his scar.


“Mr Potter. I’d like to thank you for stepping in to tutor Mr Tonbridge’s class on Monday.”


“I was pleased to help. How is Mr Tonbridge?”


“Not too well, actually. To be honest, he only agreed to help us out on a temporary basis. The
group has got quite a bit bigger and I still haven’t found a suitable permanent tutor.”


“I see.”


“I, um, was wondering if you would be prepared to step in on a more regular basis?”


Harry frowned slightly.


“I could offer you a little incentive,” offered Saulkins.


“How much do you,” began Harry, but Saulkins cut across him.


“I could go as far as two Galleons for an evening, including marking homework or course.”


“I was going to ask how much is available for spending on educational resources.”


“Oh. Um, we only supply parchment.”


“What about wands? I thought new wands were part of the compensation package.”


“Yes, all the students have received replacement wands where theirs was lost or destroyed.”


“Really? They had wands made for them?”


“Good grief, no! That would cost a small fortune. No, they were each given a second hand
wand.”


“No wonder they are struggling to re-learn their magic skills,” observed Harry. “What about the
syllabus?”


“What about it?”


“It’s useless. They’ll never find a use for ninety percent of those items. Why not teach them
practical skills?”


“Well, we felt those were the easiest skills to re-master. If they can’t even do those, what
chance have they at more advanced magic?”


“Well, clearly different people will progress at different rates. How are you grading your
students.”


“We’re not, at the moment. There hardly seems any point.”


“How many classes are you running?”


“We have fifty students this year in two classes.”


“Oh, you have another Tutor for the second group?”


“Um, not exactly. The other group is doing self-study with textbooks at the moment. We did have
a couple of volunteers, but they didn’t really work out.”


“Why not?”


“One was an ex-Auror. All he did was try and get them to shoot at each other.”


Harry laughed and asked, “Who?”


“Mr Moody.”


Harry laughed louder and said, “He was one of my best teachers! Who was the other one?”


“It just didn’t work out.”


Harry’s smile faded.


“Who?” he asked seriously.


“Professor Lupin volunteered to return to teaching,” said Professor McGonagall.


“He was highly recommended, but then we found out,” said Saulkins, but he faltered seeing the
anger on Harry’s face.


“For your information, Remus Lupin was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher I ever
had. Moody taught me loads too. I owe my life to their teachings, amongst others.”


“But he’s a werewolf!”


“Here are my conditions for my agreeing to help,” said Harry. “Firstly, Lupin and Moody are to
be offered jobs as teaching assistants with a decent wage, and not just for one evening a week
either.


“Secondly, you are going to start offering further education subjects and open it up for anyone
who wants to improve themselves. You can start small and expand as it becomes more popular.


“Thirdly, you are going to provide a decent budget for practical work and field trips. I use
significant amounts of magical materials in my classes.


“Fourthly, for this year you are going to combine the two groups and I want a suitable teaching
space. Remember, I used to work at the Ministry so I know how much wasted space you have.”


“The Minister will never agree!”


“No problem. Now I’ve seen for myself the appalling state of your department, I feel obliged to
publicise the facts.


“Where was I? Oh, yes. Fifth, everyone in the study groups is to receive a *new* wand if
they want one.”


“Outrageous! We don’t have money for that!”


“Really?” interrupted Professor McGonagall. “I was under the impression that the donations given
to support those unfortunate individuals affected by the magic-draining curses were more than
sufficient.”


“Ah, but the Minister controls those funds.”


Harry looked at his watch.


“I’d also insist upon re-writing the syllabus, but you knew that, right? Anyway, I’ve a lesson
to get to. It was nice meeting with you, Mr Saulkins. If I think of any other conditions you can
read about them in the Prophet tomorrow.”


Professor McGonagall opened the door and said, “Thank you for your time, Harry. I’ll speak to
you later.”


He struggled not to laugh out loud as she winked at him.


Harry glanced back at Saulkins before the door closed. He was sinking back down into his chair,
probably wishing he’d never come.


*


Harry looked in on the Great Hall at lunchtime and was impressed to see that they had finished
clearing up about half the floor and all of the tables and benches.


Wondering where they were, he walked around to the Greenhouses and found the two girls sitting
on a low wall beside their growing compost heap.


They looked exhausted.


“We’ll carry on in a bit,” promised Carmen. “Professor Sprout told us to stop while she prepared
another compost area. There was more than she thought.”


“No problem. I’m amazed how much you’ve shifted already.”


“We were just wondering how to shift the vines that climbed up the walls,” said Natasha.


“Maybe we can levitate a platform to work from?” suggested Harry.


“No, we tried that. The levitation charm fails close to the vines.”


Professor Sprout came out of the greenhouse with a thoughtful expression.


“I’m having a problem thinking where to put the remainder. To be honest, I’ve got more than
enough for my needs here already. I suppose we could dump it in the forest.”


“I’d rather not,” said Harry. “The forest can turn things wild, so we can’t be sure nothing
unexpected might happen.”


“True,” agreed Sprout.


“Carmen, you tried a reverse Transfiguration before, didn’t you?” said Harry.


“Well, yes. It didn’t work, though.”


“What did you add?”


“Just a simple cold flame. I didn’t want to burn the furniture. Why?”


“I just thought I’d have a go,” he said casually.


“If you make more mess, you’ll have to clean it up!” cried Carmen, getting to her feet.


“Carmen, this is *your* punishment. You don’t get to negotiate on minor points like who
actually makes the mess.”


“But that’s so unfair!”


“Am I breaking any school rules?”


“No, but that’s not the point!”


He grinned at her and Carmen stamped the ground in frustration.


“I seem to recall someone telling me that so long as school rules weren’t broken, then
everything was alright,” he said gently.


“I may have to revise my position on that argument.”


Professor Sprout snorted loudly and winked at Natasha before going back into the greenhouse.


Harry turned and walked quickly back to the Great Hall, the two girls hurrying to keep up.


He entered and went over to the side wall, where the vines were thickest. He pocketed his wand
and held his hand just in front of the wall. He could feel the magical energy as he moved his hand
slowly.


Harry found a small patch of bare stonework, just as Carmen had. He’d known as soon as he saw
her try that she was onto the right track.


His fingers lightly touched the smooth stone. Then he pushed his hand upwards, so his fingers
slid under one of the thick vines.


The magical energy crackled as he sent electric blue flames over the walls. The vines shrank
back at once and Harry had to fight not to remove his hand.


Finally, he was thrown away from the wall and he landed on his back a few feet from where he was
standing.


The two girls rushed over to help him up. Harry was a little dazed but could see that the hall
was now completely cleared of the decaying plants.


“I’m fine, thanks, girls.”


“I can’t believe you did that. And without a wand too!”


“Um, Sir,” began Natasha.


“Yes, Natasha?”


“We thought you dropped your wand,” finished Carmen.


“No, I’ve got it here,” said Harry, patting his pocket. “Now listen, the hall has been cleared,
so you’ve served your punishment. However, your clothes are in an appalling state. I’d like you to
clean them yourselves rather than letting the house elves do it for you. I’ll excuse you from
lessons if you go and launder yourselves now.”


“Yes, Sir,” they both said quietly, looking down.


Harry left the hall and went up to the staff room.


He’d only just arrived when Professor McGonagall hurried in after him, looking at him
curiously.


“Harry?”


“Yes, Professor?”


“What have you been doing?”


“Um, nothing much. I just cleared the last of those plants from the Great Hall. Why?”


“Was there a magical discharge at all?”


“I wasn’t thrown too far.”


“You didn’t happen to notice any, um, reactions on your way up here?”


“Reactions? No. I did get a few more *Hello Sirs* than I usually get. Why?”


Professor McGonagall handed him a small vanity mirror. Frowning, he looked at his reflection and
then let out a quiet moan. Professor McGonagall went rather red and snorted into her
handkerchief.


“I can’t believe I walked all the way up here looking like this!” he said, trying to flatten his
hair. Every single strand of hair seemed intent upon standing upright.


“It suits you, Harry, really,” Professor McGonagall managed to say before bursting into
laughter.


Try as he might, his hair refused to return to normal.


“Would you like me to stand in for you this afternoon?” she offered, now wiping her eyes.
“That’s a magical discharge, so it may take hours to go down.”


“Thanks, but the damage is done now. Half the school will have heard by now anyway.”


“Perhaps your interview for the Daily Prophet should be delayed?”


Harry swore.


“I’m sorry, Professor. I’d forgotten about that.”


“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”




4. Whatever you are selling, Mum says we don’t need any
-------------------------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 4 - Whatever you are selling, Mum says we don’t need any**


*Or They Let You Teach Here Without Getting Any Newts?*


“Hermione, it isn’t *that* funny,” said Harry, still trying to get one of her knitted hats
off his head. He’d jammed it on in an attempt to encourage his hair to lie flat, except it hadn’t
worked at all. Somehow his hair had managed to weave its way through the wool fibres, making him
look even more ridiculous.


“I’m sorry, Harry,” she said, still very red in the face from laughing. “I dare not try and
vanish the hat. Any more magic and your hair might just give up and fall right out.”


“Right now that seems a tempting alternative,” he said, grimacing with pain as he tugged.


“Just leave it for a while. It will be much easier later when the magical discharge is
reduced.”


He gave up and lowered his arms.


“Did you see Ron’s interview in the Evening Prophet?”


“I’ve not read it, but Professor McGonagall said he did okay.”


“Will you have time to do evening classes as well as teach here?”


“Professor McGonagall said she’d let me move my free periods around and if Moody and Lupin both
agree to help out, it shouldn’t be too bad.”


“Are you sure the Ministry will agree to Ron’s demands?”


“I’m not, I must admit. Professor McGonagall seemed to think they might agree in return for
avoiding an inquiry into the finances.”


“I was going to push for an investigation, actually. There were thousands of Galleons donated.
I’d like to know where all the cash went. You should too, after the amount you gave.”


“I’m not on the list of benefactors, Hermione.”


“Oh, come off it, Harry. Just because you gave anonymously it doesn’t mean you didn’t make a
donation.”


“Well, once they have announced what they are going to do, you can demand to see details if you
think there might be a shortfall.”


“Might that not compromise you?” she asked.


“No. I didn’t agree to anything on your behalf. To be honest, so long as those people get the
help they need, I don’t much care about the money.”


“You’ll soon care if the Ministry reduces the payments made to Hogwarts.”


“They couldn’t do that, could they?”


“It could be argued that Hogwarts reserves are sufficient to justify a reduction. It’s certainly
the first place I’d look to save money. As the money will still be used for educational purposes,
that would make it easier to justify.”


Harry sighed.


“Hermione, Neville said something strange yesterday. He said I should be careful about using
wandless magic. He seemed to think it might be outlawed.”


“Nothing official has come through the Wizengamot, but legislation is the responsibility of the
Ministry. We can’t influence whether or not anything becomes law.”


“Who decides, then?”


“Each new law or amendment gets drafted by a Ministry Department and then presented to the
Minister. If the Minister agrees to take it forward, the Department Head presents the law to a
Committee who debate it. They then take a vote and if there is a majority, the Minister signs so it
becomes law. In an emergency, the Minister can enact laws without bothering with the
Committee.”


“Would wandless magic be considered an emergency?”


“No, not unless something really bad happened.”


“So long as the law has to be debated, there isn’t much chance of it becoming enacted, don’t you
think?”


“I’m not sure, Harry. Not so long ago, I’d have said that the majority of Committee Members were
proficient in wandless magic, so it would seem pretty stupid to try and get a ban past them.
Unfortunately, there have been a lot of changes recently. The Minister appoints new members, so he
may have promoted people sympathetic to his views.”


“But why ban wandless magic?”


“Well, the number of people practising it are clearly in the minority. Minorities are always
useful in politics, Harry. They can be blamed for all sorts of things and victimised.”


“Mm,” he agreed.


“The good news is that it’ll be almost impossible to control or ban wandless use.”


“How? Wouldn’t they just send people to Azkaban or seize their assets?”


“How long could Azkaban hold *you*, Harry?”


“The dementors can affect *anyone* if they have them long enough.”


“I suppose, but I still maintain that the majority of wandless witches and wizards could look
after themselves.”


“The Minister would *know* that.”


“Look, let’s not worry too much until we know for certain something is going to happen.”


“Neville seemed very concerned.”


“Well, we can quiz him properly when we see him. Have you worked out what weekend is best for
you?”


“Me? I thought you were the one who had to decide.”


“No, Harry. I did tell you.”


“I’m sure you didn’t. Anyway, I’m free any weekend you like.”


Hermione just smiled and raised her eyebrows at him.


“Oh, hang on. I can’t do this weekend because I need to finish those lesson plans and the
weekend after I’ll be marking tests. The weekend after that-” he managed before Hermione hit him
with a cushion.


*


Harry closed the door to the Three Broomsticks and looked around the crowded bar. He wasn’t too
surprised that Moody saw him first.


“Harry! We’re over here.”


Harry turned and waved. He removed his travelling cloak and wound his way over to the booth
where Moody had called from.


Lupin rose up to shake Harry’s hand.


“Harry, you’re looking well.”


“You too!”


Harry shook Moody’s rough hand and said, “Hi, Mad-Eye. I can’t say how pleased I was that you’d
both agreed to do this.”


Harry sat and Lupin pushed one of the foaming tankards over to him.


“The Ministry were most insistent, actually,” said Lupin lightly with a smile. “Their final
offer was most generous.”


“Well, so it should be. Cheers,” said Harry, taking a long draw on his beer.


“You know the Ministry didn’t approve of my efforts?” said Moody, taking a swig from his
hip-flask.


“So what?” said Harry. “As far as I’m concerned the Ministry can take a running jump. We need to
help these people, not worry what the Ministry thinks.”


“Agreed,” said Lupin.


“What I wanted us to agree was how we are going to take this forward. I suspect that none of our
initial intake will be interested in taking their studies to OWL standard. I propose we put them
all in one class and have them progress through a series of achievable grades. We can give
practical tests to assess them.”


“How about presenting them with some form of certificate or diploma?” suggested Lupin.


“I like that idea, but only so long as we can guarantee everyone will get something. The bar
needs to be pretty low at the beginning, or they’ll give up.”


“We need to maintain certain standards, though,” added Moody. “We can’t have them finishing a
course believing they can defend themselves against any enemy in a fight.”


“True,” agreed Harry. “Actually, I was hoping we could give particular emphasis to practical
defence. We can start with simple stuff and then progress.”


“What other areas did you want to cover?” asked Lupin interestedly.


“I’d like to include cooking and cleaning skills, and perhaps even limited Potion making.”


“That’s a good idea,” agreed Lupin.


“I’d also like to get guest lecturers along too. I’m sure I could persuade some of the teachers
at Hogwarts to spare an evening to help. And, speaking of helping, I’d like to encourage families
to come along too.”


“That may not always be possible,” said Lupin.


“How about if we set homework that will get other people involved?” asked Moody.


“Or maybe an open evening where our students can demonstrate what they are learning?”


“Great!” agreed Harry. “I also want to set up a crèche so everyone can attend.”


“I can see this is going to get interesting,” said Lupin, raising his tankard.


“Well, that’s the idea. Should we ask for a single large teaching space or a few smaller
classrooms?”


“Why not ask for both?” suggested Moody. “The Ministry is too afraid of criticism from the
Prophet to say no right now.”


“Alright,” agreed Harry. “Now, I’ve drawn up a list of spells that I think we should try and
cover. To be honest they are mostly Charms with a good measure from Defence Against the Dark Arts.
I wondered if even simple Transfiguration might be too much, though.”


He handed them each a wad of parchments that also contained his outline lesson plans.


“I’d like you to look through these and let me know what you think. If there are any you think
we should add or where they might be too advanced, just say.”


“Alright,” said Lupin.


“When we’re all happy I want to get a syllabus printed up and published,” said Harry.


“I don’t see many Potions here,” commented Moody, leafing through Harry’s notes.


“Well, most people use ready-prepared potions these days,” said Harry.


“What are these?” asked Moody, reading the last page of notes.


“Those are some spells that might be useful around the house. Things like cleaning and
laundering.”


“I can’t do any of these,” commented Moody dryly. “You know, I might actually sign up for this
class.”


The three of them laughed and Harry raised his tankard.


“Here’s to a successful teaching venture.”


Lupin raised his tankard and clinked Harry’s. Moody actually raised his untouched tankard and
touched it to the other two.


*


Harry knocked on the door to the cottage and waited. He turned and smiled seeing that the lawn
beside the front path was strewn with an assortment of toys.


The front door opened a crack and a small face peered out.


“Yes?”


“Hello, my name is Harry Potter.”


“Whatever you are selling, Mum says we don’t need any.”


Harry smiled and said, “I’m not selling anything. I’m a teacher up at Hogwarts and I’ve come to
deliver-”


“Is it my letter?!” the girl asked excitedly, throwing the door open.


“I’m sorry, but I do have a package for Mrs Ledred. Is she your mother?”


The girl’s face fell and a woman appeared from a side door.


“Mrs Ledred?” asked Harry.


“Yes, I’m Mrs Ledred.”


“Hi. I’m Harry Potter and I’m going to be taking your evening classes. I was going to owl this
but it seemed silly as you live in Hogsmeade.”


Harry handed her the package.


“In there you’ll find a copy of the draft syllabus as well as a list of dates.”


“I’m not sure I’ll be coming to any more classes,” she said doubtfully. “I don’t have anyone to
look after Janeen here and I don’t have money to waste for travelling.”


“Well, the Ministry is still sorting out our classrooms so we’re going to start lessons up at
the school. As for Janeen, you’d both be more than welcome.”


“I can go to Hogwarts?”


“It’ll only be one evening a week,” said Harry with a smile. “How old are you?”


“I’m Ten and a half.”


“Well, hopefully you’ll get your Hogwarts letter soon then.”


He turned to Mrs Ledred and asked, “So, can we expect you?”


“I’m not sure. I still haven’t got a new wand.”


“Didn’t the Ministry send you a voucher?”


“Mum said we can’t afford a new wand,” said Janeen quickly.


“Shh. I just haven’t had time.”


“But the voucher is for a new Ollivander wand,” said Harry. “The Ministry will pay.”


“No, the voucher is only good for the first Ten Galleons,” said Mrs Ledred. “We have to pay for
the difference and frankly, that really isn’t worth it. After all, I may never learn to use it
properly.”


“That really isn’t the point,” said Harry angrily. “I’m sorry, but I was assured that everyone
would get free wands. That’s what it said in the Prophet. These days I doubt if you could get any
Ollivander wand for less than forty Galleons.”


“Yes, that’s what we thought.”


“Look, I’ll have to look into this. In the meantime, please consider coming along on Monday
evening. If nothing else you’ll see that there are plenty of other people in the same situation as
yourself.”


*


“Enjoying the evening air?” asked Professor McGonagall.


Harry turned and smiled. He was standing at the top of the stone steps to the entrance of the
castle.


“I was about to go down and open the gates for our new students. That is, assuming any bother to
turn up.”


“I’ll join you if I may,” she said and the walked down the steps and along the gravel path
towards the gates.


“By the way,” said Professor McGonagall lightly, “I understand that the Minister called a Press
Conference this afternoon.”


“Really?” said Harry innocently.


“Yes, he blamed the limit on the wand Vouchers a clerical oversight and assured everyone that
vouchers would cover the entire cost of the wand. He also promised full refunds for those that had
already paid.”


“That was nice of him,” said Harry dryly. “Are they going to cover the travelling expenses
too?”


“I doubt it. Please don’t take this the wrong way, Harry, but embarrassing the Minister into
these things could backfire on you. I know it worked this time, but he’ll bear you a grudge. This
isn’t the first time, either, is it?”


“I know,” admitted Harry. “I honestly intended to go and have a quiet word but when I got there
he was holding another Press Conference in the foyer and I couldn’t resist it.”


“I was surprised you weren’t on the front page.”


“Well, I managed to have a quick word with the photographer before I left. I, um, bribed him not
to use the one he had of me.”


McGonagall raised her eyebrows at him.


“I promised he could have an exclusive photo of me when we move into the Ministry
classrooms.”


“You intended to bar the Press from the opening?”


“No, but he didn’t know that. This way there’ll just be one photographer to keep an eye on.”


“Indeed.”


They arrived at the great metal gates and Harry lightly tapped the chains holding the pair of
gates closed. Instantly the chain unwound itself from the bars and the gates opened.


“Professor!”


Professor McGonagall beamed at the group of witches and wizards approaching them.


“Welcome,” she said warmly. “Welcome back to Hogwarts.”


She was soon surrounded by her former students, all eager to greet her properly. Smiling at the
sounds of laughter from the group, Harry made his way towards the rear where Ron was accompanying
Mrs Ledred. Her daughter was a few steps behind them, walking along with Moody.


“I’m glad you could make it,” Harry said to her. “I was wondering if I would have to come and
get you!”


“Your friends had the same idea,” she admitted.


Harry smiled and nodded.


“Have you seen Lupin, Ron?”


“No, he wasn’t on the train.”


“Lupin is coming by Floo Powder,” said Moody.


Harry nodded and smiled down at Janeen.


“Hi,” he said. “Looking forward to seeing the school?”


She grinned and nodded back enthusiastically.


“When are you hoping to get your Hogwarts letter?” asked Ron.


“This summer, hopefully.”


“Are you sure?” asked Moody with a lop-sided grin. “From the way you have been interrogating me,
I assumed you’d skip school and go straight into the Auror programme.”


Harry and Ron laughed at Janeen’s indignant expression.


“I was only asking what it was like working as an Auror,” she insisted. “How many NEWTs did you
get, anyway?”


“Ah, well I joined before they set such high academic standards, I’m afraid. They let me in with
a couple of OWLs.”


“I didn’t think I’d be good enough to get all the NEWTs you need,” said Janeen sadly.


“Well, they do still take people without NEWTs,” said Moody. “Potter here, for instance, joined
without NEWTs.”


“I think it may be a bit soon to start writing yourself off, Janeen,” said Harry with a
smile.


“They let you teach here without getting any NEWTs?” said Janeen.


Harry shrugged and struggled to find a response.


“Don’t worry,” Ron reassured her. “By the time you get here I’m sure Professor McGonagall will
have got Harry up to scratch.”


“Thanks, Ron,” said Harry with a laugh. “Come on, we’d better hurry up. The others are almost at
the castle and I haven’t even locked the gates.”


*


Lupin was waiting for them at the top of the steps.


“Remus, this is Janeen. She is Mrs Ledred’s daughter.”


“Ah, I’m delighted to meet you,” said Lupin, smiling and gently shaking her hand. “I recall your
mother telling us what a help you have been to her while she has been unable to perform magic.”


Janeen blushed and smiled.


“Harry,” continued Lupin as he straightened up, “Professor McGonagall said you didn’t want to
use the Great Hall this evening?”


Harry snorted and said, “No, I thought we would start with something a little different this
evening.”


He stepped inside where everyone else was waiting.


“Hello everyone,” he said brightly. “As we won’t be spending many evenings here at Hogwarts I
thought we should use the facilities we probably won’t have back at the Ministry. If you’d like to
follow me?”


He led them down the stairs and along the wide corridor leading to the kitchens until he arrived
at the painting of the bowl of fruit. There, he began to tickle the pear until it giggled and
transformed into the kitchen entrance door.


“So that’s how you do it!” said an elderly looking wizard.


Harry entered and led the group into the kitchens where they were immediately greeted by many
house elves.


“Okay,” said Harry, turning back to them. “Take your travelling cloaks off and hang them up over
there. Then I suggest we wash our hands at those troughs.


“Tonight, we will be doing a little cooking by magic.


“There’s plenty of room, so find yourself a space at one of the tables.” He waved over to the
four house tables.


Harry looked around to see Janeen helping Moody with his cloak. The only other child present was
a baby who was fast asleep in a travelling cot.


Once everyone was washed and seated, Harry addressed them again. Most of the house elves were
scurrying around bringing pots and dishes to the tables now.


“First of all, I’d like to thank the Hogwarts house elves for agreeing to pay host to us this
evening. Indeed, I’ve been making a nuisance of myself down here for a few evenings now.


“Unfortunately, my early efforts at cooking were quite abysmal. I soon found it really isn’t as
easy as these house elves make it look.


“This evening we won’t bother with making anything actually edible. All we want to do is learn a
few basic skills.”


Harry tapped the bowl in front of him and the wooden spoon began stirring the mixture
inside.


Next, he moved onto a portable griddle. Tapping the grating, a small purple flame erupted into
life and Harry placed a frying pan over it.


Then Harry tapped a rolling pin. It immediately began rolling back and forth over a small ball
of pastry.


Finally, he came to a small bowl of soapy water. He muttered an incantation and the surrounding
plates jumped into the water and began cleaning themselves.


He looked up and grinned.


“Um, Harry,” said Ron from two tables away. “That may be a bit too advanced for us. Well, me,
anyway. I couldn’t do three of those *before* I lost my magic.”


There were several nods of agreement.


“Ron, I wasn’t aware you’d even *tried* to roll pastry,” said Harry with a grin. Then he
addressed everyone.


“I don’t expect you to perform all of these by the end of our session this evening. It takes
practise to do these things. It took me hours to get the rolling pin to work properly, I promise
you.


“Now, having said that, you won’t succeed at anything unless you try, will you? You should also
know that I chose these four skills for a particular reason.”


“Did Luna put you up to it?” asked Ron to several laughs.


“No,” said Harry, chucking. “There aren’t four spells to learn. There are only variations on
*two*. Let’s start with the easiest one; producing a small flame to cook with.”


Harry conjured a row of flames in front of him. Each was either a different size, colour or
intensity from the others.


“Let’s say the incantation without wands first,” said Harry.


It wasn’t long before half the kitchen was filled with tiny flames burning inside a variety of
jamjars. Harry, Lupin and Moody had moved around the class showing how to perform the spell. By the
end everyone had produced some form of fire. Even Janeen, using Moody’s wand, had produced one.


“Right,” said Harry. “Now onto the more difficult spell.”


He pulled a large bowl over to him and placed a wooden spoon inside.


“Now, when I first tried this, it did get a bit messy. In fact, the evidence of my early efforts
is still on the ceiling. To begin with, we should have a go with nothing inside the bowls. I’ve
also taken the liberty of placing unbreakable charms on these bowls too. I broke quite a few before
I got it right.”


Harry proceeded to slowly explain the incantation and wand movements. This time, even Moody was
paying attention.


Many people had trouble controlling their stirring spoons, with more than a few sending their
bowls spinning off the tables. Far from being discouraged, everyone was laughing and showing a
great deal of enthusiasm.


Harry returned Moody’s bowl after it flew wildly up at Harry.


“Damn!” cursed Moody. “This is harder than it looks.”


“Language,” warned Harry gently. “Don’t put so much effort into it. Imagine the spoon just needs
a little encouragement.”


Mrs Ledred was the first to set her spoon stirring in a controlled manner. She grinned as
everyone cheered and applauded. Ron and Lupin tied for second and in the end only Moody had failed
to perform the charm successfully.


“Excellent!” said Harry. “You’ve all done really well. For homework, I’d like you to try and
practise these charms as often as possible. Take the bowls you have because they are unbreakable.
Next time we’ll cover the rolling pin and washing up.”


*


Professor McGonagall joined Harry, Lupin and Moody back down in the kitchens after the students
had all gone home, most of them carrying and eating armfuls of food given to them by the house
elves.


“Well, that seemed to go rather well,” she said, sitting down next to Lupin.


“Yes,” agreed Lupin. “It was a good idea to begin with a charm that almost anyone can perform.
It gave everyone the confidence to succeed with the second.”


“I hope you’re not going to do spells I can’t perform every week, Potter,” growled Moody.
“Otherwise there’s not much point in my being a teacher. I might as well just enrol.”


Harry grinned back at him.


“I happen to know you were just pretending. Well, at the end at least. Some of our students were
pretty desperate to beat you.”


“I’m still going to introduce a defensive spell that *you* can’t do,” retorted Moody.


Harry laughed.


“I was glad young Janeen came along,” said Lupin.


“She seemed to enjoy herself; fetching all those errant spoons back again,” said Harry.


“Oh, yes,” agreed Lupin. “Still, I suspect that once word gets out we’ll have several more
children coming along.”


“Maybe we’ll need to think about a crèche after all.”


“Young Janeen won’t like that,” said Moody with a smile. “She was badgering me all night to know
when we would start duelling training. She seemed to think her Auror career prospects might suffer
unless she started as soon as possible.”




5. I Must Not Stick Valuable Educational Equipment To My Classm
---------------------------------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 5 - I Must Not Stick Valuable Educational Equipment To My Classmates**


Harry walked down the stone passageway looking at each of the paintings as he did so. He had
been given directions to enter the room next to a painting of an orchard scene but he wasn’t
particularly familiar with this part of the castle.


He was almost at the end of the corridor when he spotted the painting.


Harry approached the door and knocked lightly before entering.


“Ah, good evening, Harry,” said the Fat Friar


“Hi,” re replied. “Hi, Nick.”


Sir Nicholas smiled and gave him a small nod.


“Professor McGonagall said you wanted to meet here,” said Harry. “You have news about Mark?”


“As you know the Headmistress asked us to keep a watchful eye on the boy. Please understand,
however, that we are not at liberty to betray his confidences.”


“I understand,” said Harry. “I’m only interested in trying to help him.”


“Well, we appreciate you have the boy’s interests at heart. To be honest, we debated at some
length whether we should tell you or not.”


“Tell me what?” Harry asked, assuming they had indeed decided to confide in him.


“Well, first of all we should tell you what isn’t wrong,” said Sir Nicholas. “He spends quite a
lot of his time alone, but he studies hard and does not seem to resent his solitary existence.”


“He’s on friendly terms with most of his fellow Hufflepuffs,” continued the Fat Friar. “He does
spend an excessive amount of time in the library, but then I was never much of a scholar
myself.”


Harry smiled, wondering what his comments about Hermione might have been.


“Well, his school work wouldn’t really indicate an excessive amount of studying,” said Harry.
“Do you think he’s just killing time?”


“No,” said Sir Nicholas. “We think he has an extra curricular project.”


“Really?” said Harry with interest. “Can you tell me what?”


“We don’t actually know,” admitted the Friar. “He’s careful to close his notebook whenever
anyone goes near him. I think the pages are charmed too. They were blank when I sneaked a look
while he was in class.”


Harry nodded.


“That’s encouraging,” he said. “He’s smarter than I gave him credit for and he has an outside
interest.”


“There was a minor incident earlier today that may interest you. As you know, the corridor
outside is on the most direct route between the Slytherin common room and the Great Hall. Most
Slytherins pass by this way.”


Harry nodded.


“Well, young Mark has been spending quite a bit of time down here.”


“He’s trying to get into the Slytherin common room?”


“No, no. His interest is next door and we don’t think the Slytherins knew he was there for most
of the time.”


“But someone found him today?”


“We suspect he spent longer than he intended. He had a free period in the afternoon but
unfortunately found himself late for his final lesson. We think he hurried out without checking
that the coast was clear first.”


“I’m assuming they thought he was spying on them?” said Harry.


“They outnumbered him eight-to-one, so they didn’t need much of an excuse to start
something.”


“Is he okay?”


“I arrived just a moment before they attacked. There was an exchange of name calling and then
they withdrew wands. I’m not too sure who fired first.”


“Eight to one?” said Harry angrily. “I want their names.”


“We cannot tell you that, Harry,” said the Friar gently. “We were concealing our presence.
Please understand our position.”


“However, it may interest you to know that six Slytherins were found unconscious just outside
this door. Two others reported finding them.”


“What?”


“That’s right. Young Mark has hidden duelling talents.”


“I rather assumed he would be a target for bullies, to be honest,” admitted Harry. “So, what was
he so interested in down here, anyway?”


“Come and see.”


The two ghosts floated effortlessly through the stone wall into the adjacent room. Harry,
however, had to open the door, walk down the corridor and take the first left turn. Rather than
finding a door, Harry entered a winding narrow passageway.


“No wonder the Slytherins didn’t know he was here,” muttered Harry as he finally emerged into a
larger chamber. Ahead he could see the silvery glow of the two ghosts.


“*Lumos*!”


The high stone room was square and, as far as he could see, completely empty.


He shone his narrow wand beam around the room.


“So, what was he doing?”


“He examined this room minutely,” said the Friar. “Every inch. Walls, floor and ceiling.”


“Mark was looking for a secret passage?” suggested Harry. “Is there one?”


“None that we are aware of,” said Sir Nicholas. “We have explored all around here and apart from
a small cavity in the entrance wall, everything is solid masonry.”


“What about this?” asked Harry. He walked over to the far wall and held his wand up. Built into
the rough stonework there was fine limestone architrave that looked like it once framed a painting
or something. It was large, over five feet wide and seven feet high.


“Did there used to be something here?”


“The Bloody Baron does not recall anything ever being here. He’s the most familiar with this
part of the castle.”


“It could be a door, couldn’t it?” said Harry, now feeling the fine stonework. “Maybe he found
something in the library and decided to investigate.”


“Perhaps.”


*


“Alright,” said Harry, raising his voice a little. “Copy down your homework and then you can go.
Mr Brown, I believe we have an appointment for your detention?”


Alec Brown scowled and made his way back into the room as around them his classmates hurried to
pack up and dash down for an early dinner.


“Where’s your accomplice?” asked Harry, walking to the front of the classroom.


“Um, Peter may have got another detention for Mrs Bales.”


“Well, he’ll regret not telling me beforehand. I’ve no problem moving detentions around but not
asking first will only get him two-for-one.”


“He didn’t know, Sir.”


“When did he get Mrs Bales’ detention?”


“This morning, Sir. He laughed when she accidentally set herself on fire.”


“So, in the five or six hours since then he hasn’t had a minute to come and see me?”


Alec just shrugged.


“Well, anyway,” said Harry, closing the classroom door. “Tonight, we will be reviewing sticking
charms. What are you doing, Alec?”


“Getting my parchment out, Sir. What lines do you want me to right.”


“Well, it ought to be *I must not stick valuable educational equipment to my classmates*.
Unfortunately, your sticking charms are so woeful Professor McGonagall suspected she had a Troll
enrolled by mistake.”


“We were only messing around, Sir.”


“I don’t suppose you’ll be the last boy at this school to be punished for teasing the girls,
Alec. Put that parchment away and get your wand out. Tonight we’ll cover the charm and
counter-charm. I suspect you’ll need the latter, actually.”


Harry was pleased to see Alec progress well over the next half-hour.


“That’s good, Alec. See what you can do when you apply yourself?”


Alec nodded.


“Sir, why can’t we have you for Charms? Mrs Bales just shouts at us most of the time.”


“Well, maybe you should give her a chance.”


Alec just snorted derisively.


“Tell you what, Alec. I’ll do you a deal. You owe me six more evenings, right?”


“No way, Sir! It was five, Sir. Honest.”


“Alec, I’ve not forgotten you trying to feed Mrs Norris to that engorged Preying Mantis.”


“Oh, that. Okay.”


“Well, I’ll let you off all those detentions if you’ll promise me you’ll stay out of trouble and
not get any more detentions for one week.”


“Only detentions from Mrs Bales, right?”


“I want two weeks if we’re only talking about Mrs Bales’ detentions then.”


“A week and a half,” countered Alec.


“Ten calendar days. Deal,” said Harry, holding out his hand.


Alec shook his hand wearing half a smirk. Harry tightened his grip slightly and smiled
knowingly.


“Do you know what a *binding magical contract* is, Alec?” he said, as Alec twitched
slightly. “Very serious things. Serious things happen when you break a binding magical contract,
and that’s what you just made. Please remember that before you’re tempted to break our
agreement.”


Harry released his hand and went over to collect his things.


Alec was shaking slightly, feeling his arm. Harry knew it wasn’t really fair of him taking
advantage of the boy’s lack of knowledge. The sparks of magical discharge had simply been a trick
to make him think there would be much more than self-control involved.


“Your ten days starts tomorrow morning,” Harry reminded him. “Go, on. Get some food.”


“Um, Sir?” asked Alec nervously, still rubbing his arm. “What if Mrs Bales just picks on me for
no reason?”


“I doubt that would ever happen. I’m not going to tell her about our agreement, but I will ask
her to give you a chance to turn over a new leaf. How’s that?”


*


“Ah, Harry,” said Professor McGonagall looking up from her desk. “Please, take a seat. I
understand the ghosts have advised you about Mark Stannard?”


“Yes, Professor,” said Harry, sitting down. “I’ve been trying to think what to do for the
best.”


“Do you think the Slytherins will attempt some form of reprisal?”


“Possibly, but he was outnumbered before. I expect they are a little too shame-faced to get too
many more involved.”


“That isn’t generally a Slytherin trait, Harry. What do you think he was doing down there,
anyway?”


“Well, he’s clearly been researching something.”


“Indeed. So, what do you recommend?”


“Well, I don’t think we should confront Mark with all this just yet. I’m convinced he was acting
in self defence on this occasion. I’m also quite pleased he has some interest outside of school,
too. I’d like to know what that was, of course, but unless he’s doing something dangerous I’m
inclined to just give him some room.”


Professor McGonagall smiled at him.


“You know, Dumbledore once made a rather similar recommendation to me while we were discussing
*your* suspicious activities?”


Harry snorted.


“Very well. I will ask the ghosts to continue their observations for a further couple of weeks,
though.”


“Is there a particular reason, Professor?”


“I’ve a feeling young Mark will be in need of some help at some point.”


*


“Julia? Can I get you a coffee while I’m here?” asked Harry, tapping the kettle with his wand
and making steam blast from the spout.


“Hm?” she replied looking around. “Oh. Hi, Harry. No thanks, I’m fine.”


Harry finished making his drink and came over to sit opposite her in one of the worn armchairs
scattered around the staff room.


“How’s things?” he asked, taking a sip.


Julia Bales had joined the staff at just about the same time as Harry. Unfortunately it was
taking her considerably longer to settle into her new role as a teacher. Before Hogwarts she had
been a private tutor and Harry knew she struggled to maintain control of her classes. He had never
asked, but the rumour was that she had been widowed shortly before the fall of Voldemort and now
she just wanted to make a fresh start.


He was privately surprised that she had stuck it out this long. Julia was several years older
than Harry and yet appeared to lack any degree of confidence in her abilities. She was visibly
intimidated by her students and easily flustered. Often her demonstrations descended into farce and
he often needed to teach *Charms* in his own classes just so they could keep up with his own
Defence syllabus.


Harry sensed this was why she was fast becoming the butt of some very unkind comments.


“Oh, much the same,” she replied, sounding a little dejected as usual.


Harry nodded sympathetically.


“I had quite a good morning, though. My Second Years weren’t half the trouble they usually were.
You know, you might have been right about Alec Brown?”


Harry raised his eyebrows in pretend surprise.


“What about the other one?” he asked.


“That was the strange thing. As the class was leaving, I discovered that Alec had actually glued
Peter to his desk. No wonder he had been so quiet. He’d been trying to free himself the whole time
while Alec actually paid attention and worked.”


“Wonders never cease,” said Harry.


“Oh, I think it will only be temporary. Peter was spitting mad with me when I released him. Alec
used rather a strong sticking charm and it rather smarted.”


“He was burned?”


“No, just embarrassed. I probably should have made sure those girls couldn’t see him through the
doorway. Now they know he can’t perform the counter-charm to release himself. I suspect we’ll find
him stuck to all kinds of things over the next few days.”


Harry snorted.


“Poor boy. He’s completely besotted with a certain young lady amongst them too. I’m sure that’s
why he shows off so much.”


Harry found he was completely taken aback by that remark.


“You’ve got them again Thursday?”


“Yes, just before lunch.”


“Well, that class is with me first thing. Would it be okay if I delayed Peter a few minutes? He
owes me a couple of detentions anyway.”


“Um, sure. Well, I’d better get going,” said Julia, collecting her papers.


*


Something told Harry he’d have been better to just ignore the shrieks of female laughter coming
from inside the classroom and carry on back to the staff room. He opened the door a crack, hoping
he could just satisfy himself that nothing was wrong.


About six or so girls were doubled up with laughter and Harry smiled seeing their usual victims
on the far wall, a few feet above the floor.


He stepped into the classroom and waited for the girls to realise he was there.


“Alright, I think you’ve had your fun,” he said, pointing his wand at Peter to perform the
counter charm. At almost the same time Alec released himself and jumped down.


“Hey, Sir!” complained the first girl to have composed herself.


“Step outside a moment, will you?” he asked the two boys. “Close the door after you,
please.”


Harry waited until the door clicked shut.


“They started it, Sir!”


“I know they did,” agreed Harry. “I’d still like you to stop now, though. I’m getting fed up of
unsticking them from the architecture.”


“But they ruined my favourite robes! Look, I needed to have them mended.”


“They don’t really look like they’re *ruined*, Jane. In fact, that mend is almost invisible
now you’ve burned them. Potions, was it?”


“Well, they were still spoilt,” she said defensively.


“So, how about a truce?” Harry asked. “Otherwise, I may have to ask Professor McGonagall to
revoke your Hogsmeade permissions for a while.”


“How come you’re on their side, Sir?”


“I’m not aware I am. I will be giving those two detentions, as a matter of fact. If you think it
would be fairer to invite you too, please just say.”


The girls fell silent.


“If you give me your assurances that this ends here, you can all go.”


Harry accepted their mumbled words and asked them to send the boys in on their way out.


“I’m not even going to ask,” said Harry. “Alec, Mrs Bales could do with some help Friday
evening. Please report to her office at eight o’clock. You’ll be helping her prepare her Charms
display, so mind you’re prompt.”


Alec grimaced.


“Peter, you’ll be helping me that night. Wrap up warm because we’ll be working outside.”


“Why can’t I do the Charms display too?”


“Peter, why would Mrs Bales have you? You manage to disrupt everything she tries to do and you
still haven’t learned that sticking counter-charm, have you?”


Peter scowled down at the floor.


“What will you be doing outside, Sir?” asked Alec.


“I thought we’d take a stroll into the Forbidden Forest,” said Harry. “Professor Cauldern is
running low on a few potions ingredients and Professor Jackson could use some help.”


The elderly and rather frail Professor Jackson no longer took his students into the forest for
their Care of Magical Creatures classes. For some time Harry actually thought his name was
*Action* but then he discovered this was a rather ironic nickname.


“The forest?” repeated Alec, his eyes lighting up. “We’ve never been in there. Can’t I come
too?”


“No, Alec. I think Mrs Bales deserves to make the most of your last trouble-free day.”


Alec snorted and Peter looked at him quizzically. Friday would be the last day of Alec’s
agreement not to get into trouble with Mrs Bales.


“I’d agree to a small extension,” offered Alec. “For the right incentive,” he added quickly.


“Gentlemen, I really must be going. If Mrs Bales agrees to a swap, then I’ll agree as well
provided you’re both doing a different detention.”


*


Harry closed the confidential Auror briefing report and frowned to himself. On his desk in front
of him was a copy of the Daily Prophet, the front cover of which was covered with a large moving
photograph of the Minister of Magic making a speech. Hemlock certainly knew how to keep himself in
the news.


Harry opened the paper again, mainly so that he wouldn’t need to look at the Minister, to the
small article that he had hardly noticed before reading his Auror report.


The article was written by a staff reporter that Harry hadn’t heard of before and concerned a
Muggle assault that Ministry Officials admitted had most likely been conducted by a wizard.


“There were no witnesses from the magical community present that we are aware of, but the many
Muggle witnesses reported that the victim was thrown bodily from the platform just as the a train
was pulling into the station.”


The report went on to speculate why the Ministry was taking such an interest in the case but
came to no firm conclusions.


Harry, who had the benefit of his briefing report, now knew exactly why they were
interested.


According to the report, the investigating Aurors were convinced that the assault was performed
by a powerful Dark Wizard. There had been some kind of argument between the victim and a stranger
in the ticket hall just beforehand. Witnesses described the stranger as wearing dark, non-descript
clothes and none of the security cameras recorded a single clear image while he was present. Not
one witness could recall any features at all about the stranger’s face either.


The Ministry had made discrete investigations and could find no links whatsoever with the
magical community.


The investigation was clearly ongoing, but one thing stood out for Harry. Both the newspaper
article and the Ministry report had suggested that the attacker had used wandless magic.


Harry felt this was rather a strange thing to highlight. From what he had read, none of the
witnesses could be described as reliable having almost certainly been subjected to memory
modifications.


Yet they were convinced someone using wandless magic was responsible.


Harry sealed the report, wondering if Neville’s warning had some substance after all. He hadn’t
actually stopped performing magic without his wand as Neville had asked, but each time he did so
just lately he remembered Neville’s earnest pleas.


Just then the fire erupted into life and green flames shot up the chimney. Harry looked down to
see a spinning shape in the grating.


A moment later Hermione stepped out of the fire looking simply exhausted.


“Hi,” he said, getting up and going over to her.


Hermione just dropped her bag and hugged him.


“Long day?” he asked gently. “I thought you planned to stay in London for a couple of
nights.”


“Oh, I just wanted to get away,” she said.


“Have you eaten? We could go and raid the kitchens,” he suggested.


“No, but I’d rather just stay here tonight.”


“Well, you must eat. I’ll go and get something for us, shall I?”


“Mm,” she said tiredly, nodding her head.


“Um, Hermione? You’ll have to get me go if you want food.”


Hermione just tightened her grip.


“Oh, what a day,” said Hermione miserably. “Did you see the Prophet front page? It’s simply
outrageous.”


“No, I didn’t read it,” admitted Harry. “What’s he done now?”


“The Minister has set up a new hearings panel. He said it was to relieve the Wizengamot of some
of its workload by trying minor cases using a tribunal.”


“That’s not good?”


“No. The Wizengamot dispenses justice, no-one else. The Wizengamot should decide whether it
needs the assistance of tribunals acting as lower courts and we should certainly have a say who
sits on the tribunals.”


“Well, there was quite a backlog of minor cases, wasn’t there?”


Hermione pushed herself away and snapped angrily, “Who’s side are you on?”


“Yours,” said Harry automatically.


Hermione pulled a face and hugged him again.


“I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to bite, but I’ve had the same argument with everyone today. I
know the Wizengamot isn’t perfect.”


“When will these tribunals start?” asked Harry.


“They already have. Not that the Wizengamot was important enough to be told. The problem is
there seems to be a precedent for tribunals in the past. We don’t think we’ll find a legal argument
that will prevent them being used.”


“Didn’t the accused have advocates to represent them?” asked Harry.


Hermione gave a great sigh and said, “No, not that I can tell. I’ve been trying to find out
about the rules that they operate under and get a few transcripts but the Ministry won’t release
any details.”


“Do you think they might be trying to get revenge for all those hearings? Quite a few of the
Minister’s old cronies were forced to resign, weren’t they?”


“It did occur to me, yes. I’ll just be glad when David is back. He was the only one to track
down *filed* information at the Ministry.”


“When are they due back from their honeymoon?”


“Not for over a week,” she replied miserably.


“Well, try not to get too upset. Why don’t you have a bath and I’ll sneak down to the kitchens.
What do you fancy?”




6. Well, That Makes A Change, Doesn’t It?
-----------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 6 - Well, That Makes A Change, Doesn’t It?**


“Harry, wouldn’t it have been so much simpler just to deduct a few House Points?” asked
Professor McGonagall over dinner. “Poor Mrs Bales wondered what was going on.”


Harry chuckled and said, “Well, at least they’re showing a little more enthusiasm.”


“I also hear that young Peter Westbury has been begging all of the older students to teach him
how to perform a certain sticking charm.”


“That was brave. I expect more than a few were tempted just to glue him to the ceiling.”


“Yet you suggested Mrs Bales judge how serious he was by his progress using sticking
charms?”


“Yes, he’s got a bit of a block there. I think he can’t help associating it with a certain young
Miss and he loses concentration.”


“Would that be the same Miss who is Mrs Bales’ only volunteer to date?”


“For Peter’s sake I hope so,” said Harry with a laugh.


“I suppose Alec Brown has the same problem?”


“No, I don’t think so,” Harry replied thoughtfully. “He just goes along with Peter most of the
time, but he was disrupting classes just to cover up for his own lack of attainment.”


“Well, he at least seems to be improving. Julia was in quite a quandary. On the one hand she
feels she ought to encourage Peter to take an interest but on the other she feels he might just
destroy the whole display.”


“What is she building, anyway? I asked, but she wouldn’t go into details. She said she wanted it
to be a surprise for everyone.”


“It sounds rather impressive, actually. It takes the form of an enclosed wall and has live
demonstrations of charmed objects all over it. I imagine the difficulty has been balancing
everything out and making sure the magic doesn’t discharge too quickly.”


“Balancing?”


“Well, the charm for levitating has to be kept well away from the summoning charm, for
example.”


“Oh, right.”


“It has taken rather longer to set up than Julia planned, of course. She started this off with
the idea that it might be a fun after-school activity.”


“Shame she had to resort to giving detentions to make people help out.”


“Well, yes.”


“So, dare I ask what young Alec will get from his trip into the Forest?”


“Well, with any luck he’ll have a scare or two and come back with a new respect for the
knowledge that is available for learning around here. He’s bright enough, but he’s easily
distracted.”


“What if Peter’s charm work isn’t up to scratch by Friday?”


“I’m pretty sure it won’t be, actually. That’s why he won’t be anywhere near the *real*
charms display for their detention.”


“Hm, I was wondering what you and Julia have been conspiring about for the last two days.”


*


Harry squeezed through the tiny door and climbed out onto the tower roof. He was immediately
blasted by the strong winds and reached out to hold himself steady against the stonework. This
wasn’t the highest tower at Hogwarts, but it ranked as one of the most inaccessible.


Opposite him was a tiny canvas tent that had been tied down to the heavy iron gully
gratings.


He crossed the circular roof with some difficulty and ducked down into the tent entrance.


“Hello?”


Harry entered the tent and stood up. He brushed his hair back before crossing the magically
enlarged interior and sitting down in front of the fire.


“Hi,” he said, holding out both hands to warm them. “What’s up now?”


Carmen continued to stare miserably into the flames.


“Not talking, eh?” said Harry.


Carmen shrugged.


“That’s okay,” said Harry. “I’ll just sit here and enjoy the quiet. As a matter of fact, it’s
kind of nice. You know, I still remember when I could hardly get a word in.”


Harry looked down at her and smiled seeing her try to keep a straight face. She had been barely
nine when they first met and she had enjoyed nothing better than bossing him around.


“I’ll just keep quiet then,” he continued annoyingly. “Shall I do that?”


He gave her a gentle shove and she shoved back.


“Is that a yes? Only I’m really, really good at sitting quietly. I just want you to know
that.”


“Oh, do shut up!” she cried before they both laughed.


“That’s better,” said Harry. “So, why are you hidden away up here?”


“I just wanted to be alone for a bit, that’s all. Why are you here?”


“Well, I was concerned about you. Natasha is too. I think Peeves thinks you’re just burnt
out.”


“Peeves?”


“Yes. Haven’t you heard his latest song about you? I can sing it if you want?”


“No, thanks.”


“I think he might be right, though. I mean, I bet you’re not even working on any new pranks, are
you?”


“So? After the think with the flower arrangements thing, I thought Professor McGonagall would
appreciate a little quiet.”


“The thing is, I need a small favour,” admitted Harry.


“What is it this time?”


“Um, I need you to get into trouble. That is, do something wrong, get caught and have to be
punished.”


“Why?”


“Why, you?”


“Er, no. Why, at all?”


A long moment passed while Harry considered how to answer this. Carmen decided that she’d rather
not wait.


“Okay, why me?”


“Ah, I can answer that one! You are not bad at looking after yourself, are you? I think I can
trust a fellow student’s well-being to your tender care.”


“Someone needs help? Um, is this when I’m getting caught or doing the detention?”


“I haven’t exactly thought that far ahead, actually.”


“Well, that makes a change, doesn’t it?” she replied sarcastically. “Am I at least allowed to
know who it is I’m supposed to be helping?”


“No. If you knew you might act differently towards them. I’m just going to arrange for a slight
situation to arise and with any luck you’ll be drawn into the, um, event.”


Carmen frowned at him.


“I’m not getting back together with Stephen, if that’s what this is all about. I’ve finished
with him and that’s final.”


“Carmen, do you really think I’d do that? Look, it isn’t Stephen. Okay?”


Carmen considered him for a long moment before nodding.


“So, is Stephen why you’ve moved up here?”


“I haven’t moved up anywhere. I just needed some time alone to think things through.”


“I’ll take that as a *yes*, then.”


Carmen tutted and said, “If you insist, but as a matter of fact all I’ve been able to think
about for a while now is the look of disappointment on McGonagall’s face.”


“*Professor* McGonagall,” he gently reminded her.


Carmen absently wiped her eyes.


“Look, if you’d rather not help me out, just say. I won’t mind.”


Carmen continued to stare into the flames in front of them.


“Where did you get this tent from, Carmen?”


“I found it in a store a couple of weeks ago, but I only put it up today. Natasha wanted to read
a letter from her Uncle so I thought I’d put it up. There are some butterbeers in the kitchen, if
you’d like?”


“Sure, that would be nice.”


Carmen took out her wand and pointed it towards a door at the back of the tent. Instantly the
door opened and out came two bottles flying towards them. As the bottles slowly spun around each
other, both the tops came off and Harry could see frosting appear on the glass as Carmen magically
cooled them. The bottles came to a stop and hovered right in front of them.


“Thanks,” said Harry, taking a bottle. “Your wordless Charms work gets better every time I see
you perform that kind of thing.”


“Hm,” Carmen said absently, taking a sip of Butterbeer. “I like Charms.”


“You know? Years ago there used to be a Charms club. A real one, that is. Maybe you could ask
for it to reform again.”


“Maybe,” agreed Carmen. “Natasha wasn’t keen, though. Shame really, because she’s really much
better than me.”


“Really? I knew she was good at Transfiguration.”


“She doesn’t like people to know what she can do, really. She’s really got the knack of subtle
magic, like changing the colours of a flower. She doesn’t need to force it, so they last much
longer than my efforts.”


“Carmen, why would Natasha not want people to know she has a talent?”


“Oh, her Uncle warned her not to show off.”


“Natasha doesn’t really strike me as the kind of person who needs that sort of advice. Why would
David tell her that?”


“I think it’s the wandless magic thing. You know how edgy people are around him.”


“Well, okay he had a bit of a reputation. That was because of what happened in the fight at the
Ministry, though. Besides, what has that got to do with Natasha?”


Carmen didn’t answer. Harry was about to push when it occurred to him that Carmen had probably
promised not to say too much anyway.


Harry looked at his watch.


“I should go. It took me longer to find you than I expected.”


“I’m surprised you did find me, actually. I was sure you wouldn’t fit through the opening out
onto the roof.”


“Hey!” said Harry, laughing and flattening his robes. “Well, I’m not staying around here just to
be insulted.”


He placed the bottle on the stone hearth and stood up.


“Thanks for the drink, Carmen. You’ll pack up the tent? I’d rather not leave this here for
someone to find. The top of a tower isn’t the most sensible place for a tent.”


Carmen nodded and Harry made to leave.


“Um, when is your *situation* likely to occur?” Carmen called after him.


Harry grinned back at her and said, “Friday morning.”


He closed the tent flaps and walked over to the opening in the far wall.


“*Ah, that explains the curious shape this doorway has been transfigured into*,” observed
the small golden snake lying coiled up just inside.


“Hi, Hydrus,” said Harry. “Enough of your cheek. That opening was impossible for *anyone*
to get through.”


*


“What are you muttering about, Harry?” asked Hermione without looking up from her papers. Harry
had just entered their rooms and sat down.


“Nothing.”


Hermione asked, “Nothing?”


“I’ve just been cheeked by Hydrus.”


“Well, at least no-one else could understand the pair of you. I take it you found Carmen
then?”


“Yes, she was up one of the towers,” said Harry, looking over to her. “Hey, what’s up?”


Harry got to his feet the moment he realised Hermione was rather puffy eyed. He went straight
over to her.


“What is it?” he asked gently.


“I’ve just received some rather sad news. I don’t think you ever met him, Harry, but Hamish
Winestock died yesterday.”


“Winestock?” repeated Harry. “Wasn’t he a Wizengamot member?”


“Yes, he came out of retirement after Voldemort’s defeat.”


“Mm,” agreed Harry. “I did kind of meet him. He was sitting during my first appearance as an
Auror prosecution witness. He grilled me quite hard, actually.”


“That sounds like him,” said Hermione with a sad smile. “I rather liked him, once you got past
his gruff mannerisms. He was the one who accepted the legal precedence that allowed Arthur to push
through the legislation that freed the house elves.”


“You had a little to do with it as well,” Harry reminded her gently, kissing her neck.


Hermione stroked the back of his hand fondly.


“He didn’t sit on the Wizengamot often after that,” continued Hermione. “He was rather ill for
much of the time.”


“He must have been quite old,” said Harry.


“Well over a hundred, I’d imagine.”


“Has a date been set for the funeral?”


“Yes, but his widow has said it will be private with only family members invited. The Prophet
said she rather resented the Ministry pulling him out of retirement. If he hadn’t taken so much on
perhaps his health wouldn’t have failed so soon.”


“Lots of people came out of retirement to help out, Hermione. I don’t ever recall anyone
complaining that they were *made* to work again.”


“Perhaps, but you can understand how upset she must be. Actually, I was sitting here wondering
what I was going to say to her.”


“*Say* to her?”


“Um, yes. Mrs Winestock has invited me to go and see her.”


“Why?”


“I’ve no idea, but she wants to meet the day before the funeral service, on Thursday.”


“Thursday?” said Harry, knowing that the day after was the one his plans were set for. “Do you
want me to come with you?”


“Thanks, Harry, but no. I’ll manage.”


“Well, if you’re sure.”


“I am. Don’t forget we are going to stay with Ginny and Neville this weekend, will you?”


“Actually,” began Harry slowly.


“I knew you’d forget! Don’t worry, I’ve got Professor McGonagall’s permission for you to be
away.”


“Um, thanks. Actually, we’ll probably have to leave Saturday morning and not Friday night. I’ve
arranged some after-school activities.”


“No problem. So, what did Hydrus say?”


Harry snorted and said, “He commented about the shape of the entrance out onto the roof. I think
Carmen picked that one deliberately to keep me from finding her.”


Hermione smiled and snaked her arms around him.


“Well, you have put a little weight on, haven’t you?”


“Sorry?”


“Harry, I’m not having a go at you. After all, you can hardly expect to remain as thin as you
were when you left hospital.”


“You think I’m over-weight?”


“I think,” she said carefully, “that as we get older, three Hogwarts meals a day are likely to
have an effect on us.”


“By *us*, you mean *me*?”


“Harry, I’ll still love you when you are twice the size of the giant squid.”


Harry chuckled and said, “I may hold you to that.”


*


Harry stepped off the spiral staircase and knocked on Professor McGonagall’s office door. The
heavy door opened at once and Harry saw that Hermione and Professor McGonagall were sitting
opposite the large claw footed desk.


“Well,” said McGonagall, continuing their conversation. “I don’t think there’s anything to be
done at the moment. Hogwarts will do whatever it can.”


“Are you sure? I mean, there are bound to be objections.”


McGonagall smiled and said, “You mean, would I object?”


“Well,” Hermione said uncertainly. “I could well understand, given past events.”


“If we were talking about the same person who left here, then no, I would not welcome him back
under any circumstances. However, from what you have told me, that is probably no longer the
case.”


Harry frowned slightly, wondering who they were talking about.


Hermione nodded and said, “The problem is, I’ve no idea where he is. I can’t even make him an
offer to come here.”


She lightly tapped some scrolls of parchment on the desk and they vanished at once.


“We did send another letter inviting him to attend, but it wasn’t delivered.”


“Really?” said Hermione in surprise.


“Well, it seemed prudent to at least attempt to make contact.”


Hermione stood and smiled at Harry before turning back to Professor McGonagall.


“Thank you, Professor. I’m glad I had the opportunity to talk this through.”


“Not at all,” said McGonagall with a smile.


“I’ll keep you informed of developments, of course. Good evening, Professor.”


Harry bid McGonagall good evening and escorted Hermione out of the office.


“What was that about?” he asked quietly as the descended the spiral staircase.


“Oh, I can’t really say. I met with Mrs Winestock this afternoon.”


“Oh, right. How did that go?”


“Okay, overall. She gave me some confidential case files. Winestock wanted me to take
responsibility for them, but they mustn’t go through the normal Wizengamot channels. That’s why I
can’t talk about the cases with anyone. Well, hardly anyone.”


“I understand,” said Harry, who had needed to keep Hermione in the dark about many of his own
Auror activities.


“Fortunately, Winestock consulted Professor McGonagall too, so it was okay to speak to her about
one of the case subjects.”


“Right,” said Harry, determined not to be tempted to ask any further questions.


They walked down to the front entrance in silence, Hermione deep in thought. She only came out
of her reverie when Harry had to tell a rowdy group of Fourth Years on their way into the Great
Hall to calm down.


“Where are we going, Harry?”


“Wherever you like, Hermione.”


“Let’s go for a walk round the lake?”


“Sure,” he said, taking her arm.


They were almost on the other side of the lake when Hermione spoke again.


“Mrs Winestock was very nice, actually. I’d been worried that I might have upset her.”


“How is she?”


“Oh, bearing up. She has three of her sons staying with her and they were expecting more family
to arrive tonight.”


“That’s nice,” said Harry.


“She told me all about how Winestock used to come home and tell her about all my arguments
before the Wizengamot. I was rather surprised when she said he followed my career with interest,
even after he became ill. I rather had the impression he wasn’t at all impressed with my
appointment.”


“Hermione, I sat in on some of those Committee hearings, remember? You wiped the floor with most
of them.”


“He was so stern, though. He picked me up on almost every bit of procedural law in the
Wizengamot.”


“Well, maybe he felt a little threatened,” suggested Harry.


“Hardly! You know? I’m beginning to think he was preparing me. Maybe even *protecting*
me.”


“This has something to do with these case files?”


“I can’t say, Harry.”


“Sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean to mention those again.”


Hermione smiled and squeezed his arm a little.


“Harry, could I ask you something?”


“Anything.”


“Something hypothetical?”


“Um, okay.”


“Just supposing,” she began hesitantly. “How can I put this? Suppose Draco Malfoy *wasn’t*
dead.”


“He is dead, Hermione. I found his body in the forest.”


“Yes, but I’m asking a *hypothetical* question. If Draco was alive, would you accept him
back as a student? So he could finish his education and graduate?”


“Hermione, he *is* dead, isn’t he?”


“Yes, Harry.”


“So, he’s coming back here as a ghost?”


“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry! I said, if Draco was *alive*.”


“So, if he’s dead and not a ghost,” began Harry.


“Oh, forget it!” said Hermione with a great sigh. “I was only using Draco as an example.”


Harry smiled and said, “Okay, I was only teasing you. If Draco was alive, then yes, I would have
no problem with him coming back here. Well, I’d accept it, anyway. I know we didn’t get on, but in
the end he did the right thing. He was the one who helped us get the Horcrux that Bellatrix was
keeping.”


“Oh, right.”


“So, should your hypothetical example have been about someone I hadn’t forgiven?”


“Yes, I suppose. Draco wasn’t a very good example.”


“Who, though? I can’t think of anyone who would *want* to come back.”


“Please don’t ask me that, Harry. Besides, it rather looks like he doesn’t want to come back.
Actually, for all I know he may be dead.”


“This is someone you thought Professor McGonagall might reject too?” asked Harry.


“Frankly, yes.”


“So, why do you think this mysterious person might come back?”


Hermione looked at him for a long moment before answering. Then she uttered a single word.


“Dumbledore.”




7. Why Would I Be On Edge?
--------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 7 - Why Would I Be On Edge?**


As the last of the marauding suits of armour exploded, Harry allowed himself a moment to reflect
on what had been a thoroughly enjoyable Friday morning.


True, the day had begun with a considerable preoccupation about what exactly Dumbledore had to
do with Hermione’s new case files. However, that preoccupation had been driven away completely when
Winky had arrived to present him with his new diet sheets.


Hermione had stressed that they were merely suggestions for his well-being and were completely
voluntary dietary suggestions.


Unfortunately, Winky seemed to have had a slightly different understanding. So much so, indeed,
that every sausage he transferred to his plate vanished before he was able to take a single
bite.


The day had perked up shortly after as Julia Bales confirmed that everything was ready for the
day’s mayhem.


Harry turned to face the two students standing in the corridor with him.


“So, would one of you like to tell me what happened?”


“I charmed some of the armour,” admitted Carmen immediately, “but that was only because stunning
and impediment jinxes wouldn’t work.”


“Wouldn’t work?”


“Yes! About half a dozen suits of armour charged us. We tried to fight them back but in the end
I thought of using the suits of armour behind up. You know, fight fire with fire.”


“Well,” said Harry, looking around and nudging the nearest helmet with his foot. “I count six
battle helmets and there are six empty alcoves just behind you. Where did the attacking armour go
to? Come to think of it, where did it come from?”


Carmen frowned as she too counted up the helmets.


“You do believe me, don’t you?”


“Carmen, why would anyone set armour to attack you?” asked Harry. “I’ve never seen Peeves move
more than one suit at a time and I doubt he could fight an Impediment jinx, especially one of
yours.”


“It wasn’t Peeves,” said Carmen, and Harry saw her shoot a quick glance at her companion. “They
didn’t attack me, either. They were going for Mark when I turned the corner.”


Mark Stannard gave a start before recovering himself. Harry had the impression he was rather
hoping not to be noticed.


“The armour attacked *you*, Mark?”


“Um, yes. I may have just set them off by walking past here, though.”


“That’s possible,” agreed Harry. “I still don’t understand how the attacking armour vanished,
though. Surely one of you must have seen?”


“It was a fairly pitched battle,” said Carmen.


“At least three of her suits were brought down by the black knight with his mace,” observed
Mark, pointing over at the remains.


Carmen scowled at him.


“It was hard keeping control,” she said angrily. “If you think you can do better, perhaps you’d
like to show us?”


Carmen flicked her wand and the Black Knight’s heavy mace complete with metal glove leapt into
the air and brandished itself a few feet away.


“That’ll do,” said Harry warningly. The mace dropped to the floor with a metallic thud.


Carmen lowered her wand hand.


“I want you both to collect up all this junk and take it down to Mr Filch’s office. You can
arrange with him when you’ll be helping to put the suits of armour back together.”


“No way!” cried Carmen. “It’s Saturday tomorrow. I bet he makes us do it then!”


Harry smiled and stood aside for them.


“Go on, say it,” said Harry.


“This is so unfair!” grumbled Carmen as she threw an odd leg at Mark.


“There,” said Harry, turning and making his way back towards the staircase. “I knew you’d feel
better for saying that. I’ll see you later.”


*


“Mark?” called Harry as a solitary figure walked past his open door.


Mark jumped about a foot in the air.


“I’m sorry,” said Harry at once. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Come in a moment?”


Mark entered the empty classroom looking a little flushed.


“You okay?” asked Harry. “You look a little on edge.”


“Why would I be on edge? I mean, no-one who’d made Carmen Callidus get a detention with Mr Filch
would be worried, would they?”


Harry laughed and nodded.


“I see what you mean. How was Mr Filch?”


“He says it will take at least two days to reassemble the armour properly without magic.
Apparently we broke several important rivets of significant historical interest too.”


Harry snorted.


“I doubt they were that important. To my knowledge, every bit of that armour has been blasted
apart previously. In fact, a friend of mine once bet Carmen that she couldn’t make the Black Knight
do somersaults through the Staff Room. That time we were able to blame Peeves.”


Mark nodded, but still looked a little preoccupied.


“I’m sure Carmen won’t do anything too bad,” Harry assured him. “Unfortunately, she and Mr Filch
don’t exactly get on.”


“Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.”


Harry smiled.


“Mark? I didn’t like to ask in front of Carmen, but what were you doing up in that corridor? I
know you were in the greenhouses the period before and you had Transfiguration next.”


“I, um,” began Mark hesitantly, but then he drew a deep breath. “Well, the truth is I’ve been
varying my routes around the castle. There was a spot of bother a short while ago and the Fat Friar
suggested a few alternatives.”


“You think some students might have used the armour to attack you?”


“Not really. That seems too advanced for them.”


“I won’t ask who you mean, but watch out for yourself. Don’t let yourself be dragged into any
mad scheme Carmen dreams up, either. She’s bound to want to get her own back.”


“Yes, she’s been on at me about that already.”


“Well, I’m sure you won’t let her make up your mind for you.”


“I wish I was as sure,” admitted Mark. “She certainly likes to make an impression, doesn’t
she?”


“Well, that’s Carmen for you.”


“I was a bit taken aback that she even knew my name,” said Mark quietly. “Is she always that
intense? I thought she and Filch were going to have a duel right there in his office earlier.”


Harry chuckled and began, “Well-”


“Be careful how you answer that,” said Carmen loudly before knocking on the open door.


She gave Harry and Mark dark looks before entering and handing Harry a scroll of parchment. Over
her shoulder, Harry could see Natasha grinning widely but deciding to stay outside in the
corridor.


“Oh, this is from Mr Filch,” said Harry, opening the sealed scroll and reading it quickly. “Um,
unfortunately Professor McGonagall won’t allow either of you to miss any lessons, so he won’t be
able to chain you up. Other than that, this seems to be in order.”


“It’s a Hogsmeade weekend!”


“Yes, I remember. Still, you wouldn’t enjoy yourself knowing that Mr Filch’s armour was in
pieces, would you?”


“I was hoping you might persuade that old git to put it off for a week.”


“If you couldn’t persuade him, Carmen, there’s very little point in me even trying.”


“Well, I only remembered we were due to go to Hogsmeade after I threatened to string up Mrs
Norris.”


*


Harry entered the staff room wearing a broad smile. Almost the moment the door closed behind
him, two ghosts glided through the far wall.


“Extraordinary!” cried the Fat Friar.


“Quite,” agreed Sir Nicholas. “The argument with Filch really set the whole thing off
splendidly. We would have been here earlier but just had to stay for that!”


The door opened again and in came Professor McGonagall.


“I was hoping for a report on progress,” she said. “Would you mind if we sat? I’ve been on the
go all morning.”


“Please,” said Sir Nicholas, bowing her to a seat whilst rather discretely holding his head
level with a free hand.


Harry poured two cups of coffee and brought them over to the group.


“The armour ambush seemed to go well,” said Harry, sipping his coffee. “I was worried that
they’d work out what was happening.”


“It was terribly convincing,” said the Friar. “The mêlée even had me diving for cover.”


“So, what actually happened?” asked Professor McGonagall.


“Well,” said Harry. “We needed something that Carmen would have difficulty fighting. It was a
fairly safe bet that she’d animate the armour next to them just to give herself a little thinking
time. The Black Knight was the one she used to play all those pranks with, so again I felt she
would probably concentrate her attack using him. She just didn’t realise that she’d gradually lost
control of the others.”


“But what about the initial attack?”


“It was simply an illusion. That’s why her spells had no real effect. She didn’t realise because
we added sounds and deflected spells as part of the trick. That corridor widens just there, and
Julia and myself were stationed either side. Fortunately, Carmen didn’t enquire too closely
afterwards.”


“She did look rather annoyed,” agreed Sir Nicholas.


“So, what now?” asked McGonagall.


“We just let things run their course,” said Harry. “Carmen will spend every minute of her
detentions trying to find out why anyone would attack Mark. I’m sure he won’t say, but it won’t
take Carmen long to work out Mark is hiding something.”


“Poor boy,” said Sir Nicholas with a heavy sigh. “He really doesn’t know what’s about to hit
him.”


“Oh, I think he has an inkling,” said Harry.


“Would you continue a discrete watch over them?” Professor McGonagall asked the ghosts.


“We would be honoured,” said Sir Nicholas bowing again but this time forgetting to hold his head
on straight. He wobbled dangerously but everyone’s attention was on the Fat Friar who was a picture
of nervous excitement.


“Oh, we can hardly wait!”


The door to the staff room opened a third time and in came Julia Bales.


“Well, your other mad scheme just got back on course, Harry,” she said brightly. “I’ve just
given permission for Peter Westbury to join the Charms club this evening. That means you’re stuck
with Alec Brown as planned.”


“Oh, good. They left it a bit late, didn’t they?”


“Well, Peter isn’t quite up to scratch, to be honest. But at least he’s trying now instead of
just disrupting the class.”


Harry smiled and saw Professor McGonagall looking at him with a pensive expression.


“I wonder if I’m doing the right thing in allowing you to go away this weekend, Harry.”


*


Argus Filch looked at Harry as if his long held suspicions that Harry was simply mad had at last
been realised.


“You want me to keep them working all weekend?”


“Sure. Keep them keep polishing or remaking the joints until you are entirely satisfied with the
quality; just make sure they don’t finish.”


“Do you really think I’ve got nothing better to do with my weekend?”


“You don’t have to stay with them all the time. Just get Mrs Norris to look in on them every
couple of hours or so. Oh, and they’ll probably need a couple of hours for lunch.”


“A couple of hours?”


“Well, yes. And don’t worry about Carmen. She’ll be far too busy interrogating Mark to bother
tormenting you and Mrs Norris.”


“I’ll believe that when I see it!” said Filch as Alec Brown came tearing down the staircase and
came to a skidding halt beside them.


“Hello, Alec,” said Harry with a smile. “I think you’re early.”


“Sir,” said Alec between gasps.


“We’re spending tonight’s detention in the Forest,” explained Harry in response to Filch’s
raised eyebrows. “Professor Cauldern needs a few things and I thought we’d save Professor Jackson
the bother.”


“The Forest, eh?” said Filch, his quivering face instantly transforming into a nasty grin.
“There’s not many who come out of there unscathed.”


Far from looking scared, Alec looked like he was bursting with eagerness.


“What kinds of creatures live in the forest?” he asked excitedly.


“Oh, all manner of Dark Beasts,” replied Filch in a low voice. “Of course, since the fall of
You-Know-Who they say there are ghosts of his Death Eaters too. They roam around hoping their
fallen Lord will rise again and restore them too.”


“Ghosts aren’t anything to be afraid of,” said Alec defiantly. “Anyway, who says there are
ghosts in there?”


“Well, by morning you’ll know, won’t you?” said Filch with a chuckle. “I’m going up to clear
away the swearing gas Peeves let off outside the Hospital Wing. I’ll tell Madam Pomfrey to save you
a bed, shall I?”


Without waiting for a reply he nodded briefly to Harry and then trudged his way across the
entrance. Harry had the feeling that his presence was holding Alec back from responding to
Fitch.


“I don’t think there are Dark Creatures in there,” muttered Alec under his breath before turning
to face Harry. “Are there, Sir?”


“Well, actually there are some,” admitted Harry. “We’ll need to be careful, but I don’t think
Death Eater ghosts will be anything to worry about.”


“What will we be collecting, Sir?”


“I tell you when we are all together. I’m expecting one more for this Detention,” said Harry
looking at his wristwatch. “Are, here she comes.”


Walking down the stairs was a very white faced girl. Adeline Gudmunson was also a Second Year
and she seemed to be carrying her wand for comfort.


“Hello, Adeline,” said Harry. “Let’s walk down to Hagrid’s house and I’ll tell you what we’ll be
about this evening.”


He turned and exited the entrance through the doors. The cool air felt refreshing on his
face.


“Um, who is Hagrid, Sir?” asked Alec.


“Was,” Harry corrected him sadly. “Hagrid was the gamekeeper here when I was your age. He was
murdered by Voldemort. There isn’t much of his house left now, actually, but you can still see the
foundations and part of the chimney is still standing.”


“Oh, that place next to the Memorial Beacon,” said Adeline speaking for the first time.


The three of them crossed the dry grass and stepped onto the stone remains of Hagrid’s hut.
Harry pointed his wand at the chimney and a fire erupted into life spreading warmth and light all
around.


“Okay,” said Harry turning to face them. “I might not admit it to Argus Filch, but the Forbidden
Forest can be a very dangerous place. We’ll be safe enough if we keep together and keep our wits
about us.”


“Did we really have to go there after dark, though?” Adeline asked with only a slight tremble in
her voice.


“No,” admitted Harry, “but parts of the forest are so thick it makes little difference. Very
little light reaches the deepest parts.”


Adeline nodded whilst staring into the flames of the fire.


“There is one good reason why we’re gong in there now. Professor Cauldern has asked us to
collect some Unicorn hairs. Now we know that Unicorns have returned to the forest, but none have
been seen for years to my knowledge. Unicorn hair is much brighter than normal hair, but it doesn’t
show up at all well in the daylight unless there’s a lot of it.”


“Unicorns?” said Adeline interestedly.


“Yes. Now, I should warn you that we may encounter some Centaurs. On no account should you
attempt to use magic against the Centaurs. Even holding a wand in their presence is provocative
these days.”


“Are there any Dark Creatures in there?”


“The worst I’ve encountered is probably the Acromantula, but we’ll be keeping well away from
their hollow. Of course, they do tend to spread out wider when they go hunting.”


“What are Acromantula?” asked Alec.


Adeline frowned at him and muttered, “We did those a month ago.”


Harry smiled and said, “Acromantula are giant spiders, but whatever we encounter the rules stay
the same. We stick together. Don’t be tempted to run or you’ll get lost only a few feet off the
path. If you see anything don’t shout it out. We just might draw too much attention to
ourselves.”


“What defensive spells should we use?”


“Stick with *Impedimenta* and *Expelliarmus*,” advised Harry. “Stunning and reductor
spells will only have limited effect, so follow my lead if possible.”


“But I can only do *Expelliarmus*,” said Adeline with a hint of alarm.


“Well, fortunately Alec’s *Impedimenta* is pretty good but his *Expelliarmus* is
hopeless.”


Alec smiled at her sheepishly as Harry said, “So, are we ready to go?”


He pointed his wand at a rusty oil lamp. A tiny golden flame came to life inside and Harry
levitated it up to head height.


“Come on then,” he prompted and lead the way into the forest with his wand tip lit. The other
two followed in single file and the lamp followed the group at walking pace.


“Why is the lamp following us, Sir?” called Alec loudly.


Harry turned and whispered, “A little quieter in here, Alec. The lamp will show you the safest
and quickest way out of the forest. If anything happens to me, just follow the lamp and raise the
alarm up at the castle. Okay?”


The two nodded silently and Harry turned and walked on. He hadn’t needed to them to be so quiet
this far into the forest, but it wouldn’t help them to get the point.


They walked on for a further twenty minutes or so, with Harry keeping a few feet ahead of the
others. He could hear they were having a whispered conversation so made sure he was far enough away
not to interrupt them.


Harry stopped and shone his narrow beam of wand light in a wide arc off the side of the path.
Soon Alec and Adeline had caught him up.


“Look over there,” he said quietly. “About thirty feet.”


Adeline gasped as the light hit something that glistened.


Harry stepped off the path and made his way with a little difficulty through the dense
groundcover. Behind him Adeline and Alec were also making their way over.


“Ow!”


Harry turned to see Adeline nursing a cut on her hand.


“I’m fine,” she said, seeing him pause.


Harry nodded and continued on. Eventually, the three of them emerged into a small clearing
around a dead tree.


“Well, I think we are going to be lucky,” he said observing the fine strands of hair caught in
the foliage. “Are you okay, Adeline?”


“It’s just a scratch,” she said absently, pulling a strand of the Unicorn hair from a bush
beside her.


“You can see why they stayed here, can’t you?” said Harry. “They would have had plenty of
warning of our approach. Okay, let’s start collecting.”


They started at once, each pulling the delicate strands tangled up. Harry soon found this wasn’t
as easy as it sounded as the fine hair usually broke when pulled hard.


“We’re supposed to get long strands,” said Harry, holding up yet another broken length.


“Don’t pull so hard,” said Adeline holding up a surprising amount of long tail hair.


“How did you get that much already?” asked Alec before Harry had the chance to.


“Just tease it out,” she directed, her nimble fingers expertly extracting the tangled hair.


“How many Unicorns do you think there are in here?” asked Alec as he returned to his own
bush.


“I’m not sure,” said Harry, “but there are plenty of hoof prints in the mud. Unfortunately, I
can’t tell how old they are.”


“We didn’t frighten them away, did we?” asked Adeline with concern.


“No, *we* didn’t,” said Alec.


“What do you mean, Alec?” asked Harry, looking around at him.


“There’s a camp fire over there,” he replied, nodding over towards the dead tree.


Harry frowned and went over. He brushed away a few fallen leaves to reveal a small circle of
stones.


He reached down and picked one up to examine it more closely.


Harry looked up to see Adeline and Alec looking at him.


“It’s cold. Whoever made this campfire is long gone. Come and see,” he said, and they came over
to him.


Harry sniffed the stone and offered it to Alec.


“These stones should be coated in carbon soot if this had been a wood fire. Even the ground
isn’t charred and there isn’t any ash at all.”


“There is some kind of coating on this,” said Adeline looking closely at the markings. “Magical
fires don’t usually burn like that, do they?”


“From the smell I’d guess the fire was started my magical means. The Weasleys brought out some
firestarters a while back. I think this might have been something like that. We’ll take this back
and get it analysed, I think.”


“Why, Sir?”


“Well, uninvited guests who take up residence in this forest tend to be unwelcome ones in my
experience. If they might represent a risk to the students we need to do something about them, even
if they can’t perform magic.”


“They aren’t a witch or wizard?”


“The Weasley firestarters were part of a range of products for people hit with the magic
draining curse. A witch or wizard with all their powers would never have left these signs of their
presence. They also wouldn’t have needed to hide in a place so well concealed.”


Harry looked around the small clearing thoughtfully. He was gradually feeling the faintest signs
of uneasiness.


“I think we should make our way back.”


“But we haven’t collected half the Unicorn hair yet!” protested Adeline.


“We’ve done pretty well,” said Harry with a smile. “I didn’t expect to find so much in one
place, to be honest.”


“Well, we should make the most of it then,” said Adeline, turning back to the glittering
bushes.


“Ten minutes only,” said Harry, reaching out to grab Alec’s attention. “Wands out,” he said very
quietly. “Don’t alarm Adeline, but stay alert and remember where the lamp is.”


Alec nodded and pocketed his clump of Unicorn hair before hurrying over to Adeline who was now
hard at work. Ahead of them, Harry could just about see the lantern still hovering above the
path.


Harry continued to patrol the far side of the small clearing but couldn’t relax. He neither
heard nor saw a thing, but the hairs on the back of his head were prickling.


He turned to see Alec watching him. Harry raised his fee hand and silently signalled that they
were leaving.


Alec immediately reached out and touched Adeline on her shoulder. She looked up with a start but
Alec quickly covered her mouth with his hand.


Adeline stuffed the Unicorn hair into an inside pocket as they came over to where Harry was
preparing to leave the clearing.


“*Nox*,” whispered Harry, and they were plunged into darkness. “Okay, stick together and
follow me as closely as you can. We’re going back to the path but not the way we came. Don’t fire
at anything you can’t see.”


He set off into the forest again away from the dwindling light of the lantern. The two students
went stumbling after him in the darkness.


Harry stopped every so often to listen once the others had stopped moving. This invariably
happened only after they had barged into his back.


Harry heard the snap of a twig being trodden on and shouted, “DOWN!”


He turned and dived, pushing Adeline and Alec to the ground as a swishing sound passed
overhead.


Harry rolled away and jumped to his feet, firing stunning spells in the general direction of
their attacker.


A dark outline moved to his right and Harry dived again, this time actually feeling the arrow
tug at his cloak as it barely missed hitting him.


Harry moved again, now knowing there were more than one.


“*Expelliarmus*!”


The Centaur’s arms jerked upwards and the arrow shot uselessly into the air. The Centaur
immediately went to grab another arrow as Harry advanced.


“*Reducto*!”


The bow exploded onto dust.


Harry turned and to see the first Centaur beginning to stir. Livid, he marched over and pointed
his wand down.


The Centaur was reaching for his bow but stopped seeing Harry approach.


To his surprise, Harry realised that the Centaur was very young. From his face, Harry guessed he
looked barely older than Alec or Adeline.


Harry felt his anger subside.


“Here,” he said, offering his hand out.


The colt shied away fearfully.


“I won’t bite, you know?” said Harry with a touch of annoyance.


There was the sound of a scuffle behind him and Harry turned to see Alec struggling to release
Adeline from the clutches of a third Centaur.


“Rullus! No!” shouted the first Centaur as he and Harry charged forward.


Adeline was held by both her arms but still trying to kick back at the legs of the Centaur. Alec
was free and clearly trying to decide how best to attack.


“Alec! Don’t!” shouted Harry. Performing magic now would not be a good idea.


Then, to Harry’s amazement, Alec jumped up onto the Centaur’s back.


“Human, get off me!” roared the Centaur in outrage.


He reared up pulling Adeline off the ground momentarily. She screamed as she hit the ground
again.


Alec held on and grabbed the Centaur’s neck with one hand. The Centaur stopped struggling when
he felt Alec’s wand at his temple.


“Now, listen carefully, you old nag,” snarled Alec. “Our teacher told us not to use magic
against the Centaurs, but unless you let her go now I’m going to transfigure you into the donkey
you really are.”


Even Harry, who knew full well that Alec couldn’t even transfigure a mouse properly yet,
believed him.


The Centaur let go of Adeline and she slumped to the ground letting out a painful yelp.


“Alright, Alec,” said Harry warningly. “You can get down now.”


Alec dismounted at once and went to help Adeline.


“Are you okay, Adeline?” asked Harry, still on his guard in case the Centaurs decided to start
fighting again.


“My ankle is twisted,” she replied in a strained voice.


“No, I’m sure it’s broken,” said Alec.


“Why are you in our forest, human,” demanded Rullus forcefully, stamping the ground. “Why were
you disturbing the Unicorn clearing?”


“We’ve just as much right to be here as you,” Harry reminded him. “I’d like to know why you are
firing on people without warning.”


“That was my fault,” said a timid voice from behind him. Harry turned to see the colt Centaur
approaching with his head bowed.


“It was an accident. I was aiming my arrow at you and I accidentally let go.”


“You could have killed one of us,” said Harry seriously.


“I’m sorry.”


“Do not apologise!” said Rullus angrily. “We Centaurs do not seek the forgiveness of mere
humans!”


“Rullus, don’t be ridiculous. *You* should be apologising. I would remind you that your
arrow was fired deliberately; not by accident,” said the first Centaur firmly before addressing
Harry. “We have been looking for whoever frightened the Unicorns away.”


“And we found them tonight!” said Rullus triumphantly.


“No, the Unicorns were gone long before we arrived,” said Harry. “Have you any idea who it
is?”


“No. From the tracks we believe it to be a lone individual. They arrived only a few weeks ago
and they keep moving around to avoid detection.”


“Why were you expecting them back here?”


“This is a good place to set up a concealed camp. We heard you approach several minutes before
you entered the clearing back there.”


Harry nodded.


“Forgive me,” said the first Centaur kindly. “My name is Mergus. This young colt is Valiente and
you are Harry Potter.”


“Um, yes I am,” said Harry quietly and he shook the Centaur’s hand. “This is Alec and Adeline
from the school.”


Valiente stepped forward and helped Alec get Adeline to her feet. She looked very pale and
faint.


“We’d better get her back up to the castle,” said Harry.


He was about to conjure a stretcher when Valiente said, “I will help. Help her up onto my back
and I’ll carry her.”


“This is an outrage!” yelled Rullus.


“It was my fault she was hurt,” said Valiente.


“You are not a mule.”


“No,” agreed Alec. “I’m not so sure about *you* though.”


Mergus snorted and said, “Valiente should do as he pleases. In the meantime, Rullus and myself
will continue our patrol.”


“The Elders will hear of this!” said Rullus loudly, but no-one was listening to him.


Harry and Alec helped Adeline up onto the Centaur’s back and then the two groups parted.


“It will be quicker if I lead,” said Valiente. “There is an easier path than the one you came
along.”


“Okay,” said Harry walking beside him.


They continued in silence for a while, hearing nothing but Adeline’s laboured breathing.


“Is Firenze still living in the forest?” asked Harry.


“Yes,” replied Valiente. “He’s an elder of the herd now. As a matter of fact I expect he’ll have
quite a lot to say about my carelessness tonight. He’ll be furious that I almost took a life.”


“Accidents happen,” said Harry.


“The elders will be angry that I’m helping you, too.”


“Not Firenze, though. You know? He carried me to safety a few years ago.”


“He did?” said Valiente, sounding a little brighter.


“Mm. I was in my First Year at Hogwarts. Please give him my kind regards when you see him.”


“I will. What year are you in, Alec?”


“We’re both in our Second Year. Do you go to school too?”


“We receive tuition, but we don’t have a castle of course.”


“What do you study?”


“The stars and how to interpret the signs. We also learn about the forest and the creatures that
live here with us. That’s why the Unicorns are so important to us. It’s a sign that at long last
peace is returning to the forest.”


The boys continued to chat until they neared the edge of the forest. Valiente hesitated seeing
the light still burning from Hagrid’s fireplace.


“Come out into the light so we can let her down safely,” said Harry and they walked out clear of
the trees.


Harry conjured a stretcher and with Alec’s help gently lowered her down from Valiente’s back.
Adeline was barely conscious now.


When Harry straightened up he saw Valiente gazing up at the castle.


“I’ve often come to the edge of the forest to look,” said Valiente. “Hogwarts looks a most
intriguing place.”


Valiente pulled the bow from his back and offered it out to Alec.


“Alec, would you please give this bow to Adeline as a symbol of my sincere apologies.”


Alec nodded and took the bow.


Harry stepped forward and offered his hand out to the Centaur.


“Thank you for your help, Valiente. We are in your debt. You and your friends will always be
welcome to visit us. Come in friendship.”


Valiente shook Harry’s hand but said, “I’m not sure that would be approved of.”


“You must come,” said Alec, jumping up to shake his hand too. “Adeline will need teaching how to
use her bow, for one thing!”


Valiente smiled and said, “Well, perhaps one day.”


They watched as Valiente trotted back into the forest before Harry levitated Adeline’s stretcher
and the three of them made their way back up to the castle followed by the lamp.


“Alec, thanks for not using magic. Things would have got very complicated if you had.”


“I was very tempted, believe me.”


“By the way, how did you know what my hand signal meant? That’s an Auror signal.”


“Well, it might be,” said Alec, “but it’s also the signal my Dad uses.”


“When?”


“Well, he insists we go to the Muggle supermarket at home but tends to go a bit crazy in crowds
of Muggles. He thinks they are always about to accuse us of being wizards, so he refuses to speak
aloud in their presence for fear of giving us away.”


Adeline snorted making them both look down at her.


“Why am I on this stretcher?”


“We’re almost back at the castle,” said Harry. “You’ve just hurt your ankle.”


“Why have you got a bow?”


“I’m carrying it for you,” said Alec. “Valiente wanted you to have it.”


“Oh,” she said a little faintly. “I’ll need arrows. Let’s go back and get some arrows.”


“Not tonight,” said Harry, exchanging a smile with Alec.


They arrived at the stone steps leading up to the entrance and Harry wasn’t entirely surprised
to see Madam Pomfrey waiting for them, her arms crossed and with a most disapproving look on her
face.


“Go with Adeline will you, Alec?” asked Harry. “I’ll go back and put Hagrid’s fire out.”


“Um,” said Alec hesitantly.


“What?”


“Maybe you could do that later,” he suggested tactfully. “I noticed a couple of shadows as we
went by.”


“You recognised them?”


“I couldn’t be certain. They looked like students though.”


“Okay, I’ll send an owl *to whom it may concern* telling them to put out the fire before
they leave. Alec, do, um, couples often meet there after dark?”


“No, but I heard the beacon has become quite popular. To be honest, no-one felt safe enough to
sneak outside the castle before you arrived here.”


Alec had gone inside before Harry turned from the distant glow of Hagrid’s fireplace.




8. Apparently They Survived
---------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


Chapter 8 - Apparently They Survived**


Harry pushed open the doors to the hospital wing and walked right into an argument.


“Mr Brown,” said Madam Pomfrey angrily. “For the last time, Miss Gudmunson will be fine. I’ve
healed her ankle but I’m keeping her in overnight simply as a precaution.”


“But-”


“You may return *tomorrow* morning.”


“You’re not listening to me!” Alec practically shouted.


Harry walked forward and said, “What is it, Alec?”


“Sir!”


“Calm down and tell me what the problem is.”


“It’s Adeline.”


Harry stepped over to the bed where Adeline was now sleeping. She had a few scratches on her
face but otherwise she looked fine.


“Look at her face,” said Alec in response to Harry’s quizzical look.


“I’ve already told you,” interrupted Madam Pomfrey. “I’ll attend to any scratches tomorrow. I
felt a good night’s sleep would do her more good.”


“No,” said Alec, sounding quite exasperated now. “Look at her face; her skin.”


Harry looked closer.


“Well, she does look rather pale,” he admitted. “Does she have a temperature?”


“Oh, another medical expert,” said Madam Pomfrey, pushing Harry out of the way and feeling
Adeline’s forehead.


“She does have a slight temperature, but that could simply be a reaction to her ankle
injury.”


“Adeline did get a deep cut on her hand earlier,” said Harry.


“I’ve cleaned and bandaged the wound,” said Madam Pomfrey, “as you can see.”


“Okay,” said Harry. “Let’s assume for the moment she *has* reacted to something that
scratched her.”


“She will be under my supervision,” she assured him. “If she has blood poisoning, I would need
to wait to see her symptoms develop. She had no idea what the plant was that scratched her but even
if she did I wouldn’t treat her this soon. An incorrectly applied antidote can often be far worse
than the poison it was supposed to remedy.”


Harry turned to Alec and knew there was little point in trying to send him back to his dormitory
if he was convinced there was something wrong with Adeline.


“You may stay here tonight if you wish, so long as you promise not to get in anyone’s way.”


“Oh, good grief!” said Madam Pomfrey. “Very well, I’ll get you some pyjamas.”


As she turned in a huff to head back to her office, Harry said, “Alec, Madam Pomfrey has patched
me up more times that I can remember. There’s no-one else I’d rather have to look after Adeline,
believe me.”


Alec nodded.


“Listen,” said Harry. “I’m supposed to be going away this weekend. If you are still worried
about Adeline or her condition changes for the worse, call me at once. Either use Madam Pomfrey’s
office fire or go to Professor McGonagall for help. I’ll write down the address for you, okay?”


“Thanks,” Alec said quietly.


*


“Morning, Harry!”


Harry grinned and said, “Hi, Luna. You’re looking well.”


She stepped away from the kitchen worktop and kissed him on his cheek.


“Thank you, Harry. We were worried you wouldn’t make it. Would you like tea or coffee?”


“Um, tea would be nice. Thanks.”


Luna picked up her wand and lightly touched the kettle. Steam blasted from the spout at once and
she immediately filled the teapot.


“What time did you get here? It must have been very late.”


“Oh, around three o’clock. Fortunately Neville is used me arriving at odd hours.”


“Yes, he must have won the bet we had when you would arrive. So, I assume your students survived
your little excursion? Hermione said you hadn’t got back before she left.”


“Yes, I just spoke with Madam Pomfrey. Adeline is still sleeping and Alec is still being a
nuisance. She promised to call if anything changes.”


“Do all your detentions leave the students in the hospital.”


“Well,” said Harry with a chuckle. “This is the first time *all* of them ended up in the
hospital.”


“Hm,” said Luna, pouring him his tea. “Here, drink it while its hot.”


“Thanks, Luna,” he replied, lifting the tea to his nose and sniffing. “Um, this smells
interesting. Did you make it yourself?”


“Oh, yes. It’s Ron’s favourite.”


Harry took a cautious sip.


“Mm, that’s nice,” he lied seeing Luna’s expectant expression. “Um, where are the others?”


“In the garden. I was about to join them.”


They stepped out onto the rear patio. Ron and Hermione were sitting at a garden table while
Ginny was down the far end of the garden leaning into the greenhouse door.


“Hi,” they all said at once.


Ginny waved at him and immediately came back towards them as Luna took a seat next to Ron.


Harry sat down on Hermione’s other side and squeezed her hand.


Neville appeared from within his greenhouse carrying a wooden tray and slowly made his way back
up to the house, carefully inspecting the progress of his flowerbeds.


“Apparently they survived,” announced Luna as Ginny got closer.


“Well, I rather assumed Harry wouldn’t have come at all if his students had been seriously
hurt,” said Ginny with a smile.


“Of course he would,” joked Ron.


“What happened?” asked Hermione, who had been fast asleep when Harry had finally arrived.


“There was just a small misunderstanding with a couple of Centaurs, that’s all,” Harry replied
with a smile. “An arrow got fired by mistake.”


“How many got fired on purpose?” asked Ron.


“Just the one.”


“Perhaps you should stick with lines for your detentions in future, then,” said Ron.


“Actually I’ve been thinking the same thing,” admitted Harry, swirling the dregs of his tea
around.


“I wasn’t being serious,” Ron added as Ginny sat down on the patio steps leading down to the
small but well kept lawn.


“They could have been badly hurt. I only just realised we were about to be attacked at the last
moment.”


“What did Professor McGonagall have to say?” asked Hermione carefully.


“I waited to see her but apparently she was occupied last night,” said Harry, placing his cup
down on the table. “I’ve a nasty feeling that she was busy sorting out another of my *brilliant
ideas*. Unfortunately the portraits wouldn’t tell me where she was so I had to leave her a
note.”


“Were the Centaurs upset for a particular reason?” asked Neville sitting down next to Ginny.


“Yes. We found the remains of a small camp in the forest. Whoever it was had frightened off the
Unicorns. I think they were using some of Fred and George’s firestarters too, which leads me to
believe they can’t perform magic properly.”


“Well, perhaps you should avoid the Forbidden Forest if someone is hiding in there,” suggested
Hermione.


“Actually, I was thinking of going hunting for them,” said Harry darkly. “I really don’t like
the idea of someone hiding out so close to the school.”


*


“Oh, come on, Harry,” moaned Ron for the twentieth time.


Harry chuckled and shook his head, no.


He, Ron and Neville were relaxing in front of the large living room fire. It was late in the
evening and Harry was still full after their late evening meal.


Harry swirled his tumbler full of Firewhiskey before taking another sip.


“It’s just not fair,” said Ron. “What’s the point of having a mate who’s your teacher when he
won’t give you the answers to your homework?”


Harry just rolled his eyes again.


“At least tell me what we’re doing next lesson,” pleaded Ron. “What should I get Luna to
practise with me?”


“I’m not sure,” admitted Harry. “Mad-Eye wanted to cover a few defensive spells.”


“Oh, well at least the colour of my stunners is improving.”


“I think he was thinking along the lines of dark detection methods. *Constant vigilance*
and all that.”


“*Boring*,” pronounced Ron as he yawned widely. “I wish the girls would hurry up with our
drinks.”


Ginny, Luna and Hermione had withdrawn to the kitchen on the pretence of making drinks. Harry,
however, strongly suspected that they were too intent upon gossiping to be bothered.


“So how are things at the Ministry, Neville?” asked Ron.


“Things are rather mysterious, actually. They’ve cleared out the entire Fourth Floor and
squashed everyone in elsewhere. The rumour is that a new department is being setup. I think they
must have their own entrance because the lift lobby is blocked off at that level.”


“The Minister probably needed more space for his Pygmy Puff collection,” said Ron.


Harry snorted and looked up to see Neville looking at him with a concerned expression.


“What?”


“Maybe I’ve been listening to too many rumours,” said Neville. “There is one rumour that seems
the most preposterous; and yet the most believable.”


“Go on,” said Harry.


“People are saying it may be a new magical law enforcement department, one that doesn’t answer
to the Wizengamot.”


“No way,” said Harry at once. “Why would they need a new department? Surely these new Tribunals
wouldn’t need policing? I thought they were for really minor things.”


Neville shrugged.


Harry considered a few moments before finally adding, “Maybe I should go and see Kingsley after
all.”


“Sorry?” said Ron.


“It’s like a standing joke we have,” explained Harry. “As an Auror I’m supposed to have monthly
evaluations with Kingsley, only I’ve never bothered to turn up. He’s always regarded them as a
waste of time since he has always told me at once if he has a problem. Anyway, this time he
actually *cancelled* our appointment. I mean, he knew I wouldn’t be there, so why cancel?”


“Well, obviously he *wants* to see you,” said Ron with a smile, making Harry roll his
eyes.


“He’s probably fed-up of having me on his books, actually. It’s been ages since I did anything
remotely Auror-ish.”


“I’d say that was a good thing,” said Ron. “You always seemed to be getting fired at
before.”


“When would that appointment have been, Harry?” asked Neville.


“Um, next week sometime. Thursday, I think. I’ll ask Professor McGonagall for an afternoon
off.”


“Well, don’t say that you’re coming to see Kingsley,” said Neville, sitting up. “Come to my
office. You can pretend we arranged to have lunch together and that way you can have a good look
round on your own.”


“Sure, but I’ll still have to tell her. You up for a little breaking and entering, Neville?”


“No, he most certainly is not,” said Ginny firmly, nudging the door open and coming in with a
large tray.


Harry snorted and moved the empty glasses from the table so she could lower the tray.


“I’ve been meaning to take a look at our new classrooms too,” said Harry. “Do you know how close
they are to finishing them, Neville?”


“No. Where are they being built?”


“I’ve no idea.”


“There you go,” said Ron. “Isn’t it likely the Fourth Floor is actually Harry’s new
classrooms?”


“I suppose that is possible,” Neville admitted.


Ginny sat herself down next to him and said, “You’re not really going to let Harry get you into
trouble, are you? You’ll lose that promotion.”


“You’ve been promoted, Neville?” asked Hermione interestedly.


“Well, I suppose,” said Neville modestly. “I’ll have a little more responsibility and a slightly
bigger desk.”


“Unfortunately the salary increase isn’t that great,” added Ginny.


“Still, congratulations, Neville,” said Hermione.


“What is it you do again?” asked Ron trying to maintain a straight face.


“*He’s the Assistant to the Assistant Under-secretary of Administrative Services*,” Harry,
Hermione, Luna and Ginny all said together before laughing.


“Or should it be *Senior* Assistant now?” asked Hermione.


“I still maintain that there is no such department,” said Ron, now laughing too. “I still recon
the actual department name is *Pot Plant Maintenance*.”


Ginny threw a cushion at him, but Ron caught it and threw it straight back.


*


Harry awoke early on Sunday morning and not wishing to disturb Hermione he went downstairs to
the kitchen to make a cup of tea.


He soon heard shuffling feet behind him.


“Morning, Luna. You’re up early.”


“Hi, Harry. Yes, I usually prefer to rise early. Are you making tea?”


“Yes, but I’m afraid it’s only ordinary tealeaves.”


“That’s fine,” she said, drawing out a chair. Harry soon finishing making them tea and brought
them over.


“Harry, could I ask you something?”


“Sure.”


“It’s about Ron. I wouldn’t want you to betray a confidence, though.”


“What’s on your mind?” he asked kindly.


“I wondered how long you thought it might be before Ron gets his magical powers back.”


Harry thought for a moment before answering.


“Well, it could be some time,” he admitted. “The problem is we’ve never actually found out what
the curse was. To my knowledge, all of the castors are dead now and no counter-curse has come close
to reversing the effects.


“Personally, and I’ve no evidence to support my theory, but I think there *must* be a
counter-curse. As you know, Ron can perform limited magic now and he’s improving all the time.
Unfortunately, the effect the curse had varies from person to person; and Ron was one of the worst
affected.”


Luna nodded slowly.


“So, to answer your question, I think it could be many years before Ron recovers even a fraction
of his abilities. I’m still convinced that he will recover, though. The magic is in him; we just
need to find the best way to help him.”


“I think he finds it very frustrating,” said Luna quietly. “He practises for hours at a time,
you know?”


“I didn’t, but I can understand it.”


“I had wondered if he wouldn’t be happier if we just gave magic up.”


Harry was quite shocked by this statement.


“You’d do that for Ron?”


“Of course, if it would make him happy.”


Harry looked over her shoulder and realised that Ron was standing at the kitchen doorway.


As Ron stepped forward and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, Harry said, “Maybe this is
something you should discuss together. Personally, I think you should persevere, but I’m sure we’ll
all support any decision you came to.”


“Thanks, Harry,” said Ron, still looking down at Luna. “I’m not quite ready to give up just
yet.”


*


Harry sat down on the bed and felt Hermione stir.


“Hey,” she said sleepily.


“Hey,” Harry replied with a smile.


“No tea?”


“Sorry. I left the tray downstairs.”


“What is it, Harry?”


Harry quickly told her about the conversation he’d just had with Luna.


“I’m just amazed that she’d do that for him,” he concluded.


“Well, I suppose she’s been thinking through their options. I do think it’s a little rash,
though. After all, neither of them knows anything about Muggle living. They didn’t even do Muggle
Studies at school.”


Hermione picked up her wand and conjured two delicate fine china cups and saucers on the bedside
cabinet. She then held the end of her wand over each cup and hot tea poured out of the end.


“I didn’t think you liked tea made like that,” said Harry.


“I don’t generally, but my house elf stand-in let me down this morning. He’s getting rather
unreliable.”


Harry chuckled and said, “Maybe you should threaten me with clothes.”


*


Harry and Hermione returned to the Castle by Floo powder just after nine o’clock on Sunday
evening as planned. They had expected to be greeted by Professor McGonagall but were instead
invited to attend the Great Hall by one of the portraits.


They hurried downstairs and as they crossed the entrance could hear Professor McGonagall
speaking in the Great Hall.


They stepped quietly inside and found that the four House tables had been removed. A small crowd
of students and teachers were standing in front of a high circular construction. Professor
McGonagall was standing in front facing the others and Julia Bales was standing next to her.


“I award thirty points to each of the students who helped Professor Bales,” continued Professor
McGonagall as Harry and Hermione walked forward as quietly as possible. “I also think we should
find a permanent home for their creation. I’m quite determined to get a higher score the next time
I pass through.”


A few of the students laughed and Harry wondered what scoring she was talking about.


“Now, it is rather late and I know how you want to be alert for your lessons in the morning,”
said Professor McGonagall, smiling as most of the students before her groaned. “Time for bed.”


As the group turned and slowly made their way out of the hall, Harry and Hermione went forward.
When they arrived at the front, Harry realised that some seated students were being tended to by
Madam Pomfrey.


Natasha Royce had an arm in a sling, Peter Westbury had his head wrapped in a thick bandage that
covered one eye and Alec Brown had his leg bandaged from his knee down. Behind them Jane Gardener
and Carmen Callidus were standing looking relatively uninjured but all five of them looked
distinctly ruffled with torn clothing and bruised faces.


Harry looked enquiringly at Julia Bales but she just smiled back at him.


Carmen was looking daggers at Harry, as if everything had been his fault. When Harry saw that
Mark Stannard was also standing behind them, characteristically wishing not to be noticed, Harry
realised it probably was his fault that Carmen had become involved.


“Should they stay overnight in the Hospital Wing, Poppy?” asked Professor McGonagall kindly.


“Westbury will need to stay in for observation as he may have a slight concussion,” said Madam
Pomfrey, now taking Natasha’s pulse. “Miss Royce should come up for draft to help her sleep and Mr
Brown is a fixture in the Hospital Wing anyway.”


“Very well, then. You may go.”


All six students left at once and Harry had the impression that they didn’t exactly feel that
thirty points each had been over generous. Madam Pomfrey followed at a hurried pace, muttering as
usual.


As soon as they had gone the great doors closed with a bang. To his surprise, Julia Bales burst
out laughing and collapsed onto a vacated chair.


“What happened?” asked Hermione before Harry had the chance.


“Oh, we had a few difficulties with the charms display,” said Professor McGonagall.


“Um, Professor?” said Harry. “How is Adeline?”


“Madam Pomfrey kept her in the Hospital Wing last night. I believe she has slept peacefully for
much of the weekend but should be discharged on Monday,” she added seeing Harry’s concern. “I’m
assured she is fine.”


Harry nodded.


“So, this is it,” said Harry, stepping towards the structure.


Now he was closer he could see it properly. There were two curved twelve foot high walls that
came together to form a narrow entrance. The walls appeared to form two semi-circles that faced
each other and Harry assumed that there was also a gap that formed an exit on the other side.


The outer walls were made from vertical timbers with large iron bands like a barrel.
Criss-crossing the outside was a strange arrangement of heavy chains and ropes that looked like
they had been hurriedly applied.


Through the opening, Harry could see a curved inner wall that was completely plain apart from a
small plaque.


Curious, he walked forward to read it. He passed through the outer wall and was immediately
followed by Hermione.


“Welcome to the Charms Wall of Wonders. You may travel clockwise or anti-clockwise through the
display and you will be shown the exit as soon as you answer a challenge incorrectly. Answer all
the challenges correctly and you will arrive back here.”


Hermione grinned at him.


“I’m going clockwise,” she announced. “You go the other way.”


Harry smiled and turned, quite determined to beat her back to the entrance. As he stepped, the
entrance vanished and was replaced by a solid stone wall. Indeed, he observed, all the walls were
stone inside the Wall of Wonders.


The first challenge wasn’t difficult. He watched a painted demonstration of a levitation charm
and was challenged to say the correct name and reproduce the wand movements necessary.


“*Wingardium Leviosa*!”


Harry moved confidently to the next challenge and passed that too. His third challenge proved
more difficult though.


A distorted face was squashed into a wall panel.


“You ‘orrible little brat,” said the face, reminding Harry forcefully of Filch. “Name the four
derivative charms that were invented after I got squashed.”


“Um,” said Harry. “Am I allowed to ask your name?”


“Yes.”


“What’s your name, then?”


“I am his brother.”


“Who?”


“Me!”


Harry spun around and realised that there was a second face on the opposite wall panel.


“Okay, what’s your name?” asked Harry.


“I am *his* brother. I’m the elder twin.”


Harry realised this was a clue but couldn’t remember the names of the twin wizards. He vaguely
remembered Professor Flitwick telling them about twin wizards, but that had been a very long time
ago.


“Time is up!”


There was a loud pop and Harry found himself being pushed out of the exit.


He walked around to the front again just in time to see Hermione come out of the entrance.
Obviously she had passed all of the challenges.


“That was wonderful!” she exclaimed. “How many challenges did you get though, Harry?”


“Two,” he admitted rather sheepishly.


“Only two!” cried Julia, laughing loudly.


“Well, I got a really hard one. How many people have passed the whole thing?”


“Um, three not including Hermione.”


“Who else did it?”


“Carmen, Natasha and Mark Stannard all passed,” said Julia proudly.


“I’m afraid I only got as far as six challenges,” said Professor McGonagall.


“Mark?” said Harry. “I can understand Carmen getting through and Natasha is getting good; but
I’m amazed Mark did it.”


“So were we,” admitted Julia.


“They didn’t cheat, did they?” asked Harry.


“I don’t see why they would,” said Julia. “Mark Stannard is hardly the sort who would want to
stand out, is he?”


“No,” agreed Harry. “How come they got involved, anyway?”


“It’s been an *interesting* weekend, Harry,” said Professor McGonagall. “I’ll tell you what
I know over breakfast tomorrow, but right now I’d prefer you to address how we can move this
display to a more suitable location.”


“Have you anywhere in mind?” asked Harry.


“Well, I was thinking about the corridor across from the third floor charms department.”


“Wouldn’t the opposite way be better, Professor?” said Hermione. “That way the students can pass
through regularly. From what I remember, the corridor on the other side doesn’t really go
anywhere.”


“Indeed,” agreed McGonagall. “However, I assumed we’d need more space. As you can see from all
the bracing we had to apply, the charms magic inside needs quite a lot to contain it.”


Harry drew his wand out and said to Julia, “Do you mind if I add some walling to the outside? It
will make it easier to move.”


“Sure, go ahead.”


Harry conjured a heavy stone wall tight around the circle and them marked where the entrance
was.


He then pocketed his wand and crouched down next to the wall. With his palm flat against the
cold stone, he pushed gently.


He heard gasps behind him as the entire stone circle drifted backwards a few inches.


Harry chuckled and got to his feet.


“How?” asked Julia, looking quite stunned.


“It’s really just a trick,” said Harry modestly. “The stone dampens the magic inside and binds
the whole thing together. It also helps form a barrier between the charm magic and the magic here
in the Great Hall. By the way, that’s probably why you needed so much bracing on the outside.”


“Well, yes, that’s what we assumed. It just went crazy as soon as we re-assembled it in
here.”


“But, how did you move it so easily?” asked McGonagall. “And without a wand?”


“Wands are great for focussed magic, but this is just too big to hold in the mind at once. I
just charmed it to move with a more vague notion.”


Harry held up his hand to the stonework and gave it the smallest push sideways to that it began
to turn momentarily before it vanished.


“Right, let’s go and see how we’re going to fit it in!”


Harry realised that the other three were not smiling.


“Don’t worry, I can bring it back you know!”


“Harry,” began Julia seriously, but Professor McGonagall cut across her.


“Now isn’t the time to discuss magical theory and practise. Let’s allow Harry to install the
display and we can discuss anything else in the morning.”


*


Harry retired to his apartments a couple of hours later and changed before Hermione joined him.
He sat down on their couch and attempted to read Saturdays’ Daily Prophet; although he found he
couldn’t find any articles to grab his attention.


He refolded the paper and then allowed himself to consider what had just happened.


Harry knew why Julia had been so shocked, although it hadn’t occurred to him at the time.


When they had arrived up in the Charms corridor, it immediately became apparent that Hermione’s
idea wouldn’t work. As Harry had pointed out, only those students who had answered
*incorrectly* could exit in a direction towards their classrooms. Those few that might beat
the challenges would find themselves back where they started.


In the end they decided the exhibit should not be positioned across the corridor, so students
would not be forced to go through it. Harry was sure it would prove to be a popular diversion and
it was agreed that those who had failed the challenges would just need to walk through a connecting
corridor.


The only objector to the proposal was Moaning Myrtle who was convinced that the Wall of Wonders
would replace a bathroom that she had grown fond of.


Harry had tried to explain that the bathroom would be left entirely intact but the entrance and
exit to the Wall of Wonders would be right next-door.


Unfortunately, Myrtle seemed determined to get upset and in the end he left Hermione to placate
her while he made room for the exhibit.


Upon reflection, Harry realised that Myrtle’s vocal and tearful objections had distracted him.
All he had wanted to do was finish up and leave.


That had been a mistake.


Hogwarts was so old and steeped in ancient magic, making adjustments to the castle fabric was
something never to be undertaken lightly.


The Founders had recognised that students learning to perform magic could create havoc in
uncontrolled situations. They therefore gave every inch of the castle many advanced protections
which were then added to by generations of Headmasters and Headmistresses.


Harry had never confided to Professor McGonagall how it was that he knew how to circumvent the
castle’s wards.


He had casually pushed back the stone walls to make room for the Wall of Wonders and was
considering where to construct the exit corridor before he realised that, as far as the others were
concerned, he really ought not to be able to do that.


They hadn’t interrupted him, presumably for fear that Harry might bring the vaulted stone
ceilings down.


Too late, he realised that he should have disguised what he was doing.


Harry had brought back the Wall of Wonders complete with stone surround before quickly forming
an entrance and then finishing off the exit corridor with a few lanterns.


Harry started as the door to their apartments opened and in came Hermione. She hung her
travelling robe up and joined him on the couch.


“Thanks for dealing with Myrtle,” said Harry, taking her hand.


“Oh, Myrtle wasn’t really upset by the Wall of Wonders. I couldn’t get anything positive out of
her, but I think she’s got a bit of a crush on a boy here. She kept saying he keeps hiding and she
has to go looking for him.”


Harry snorted.


“Hey, don’t be mean,” said Hermione, snuggling against him. “I think it’s rather sweet.”


“I’m sorry.”


“Anyway, it was Julia not Myrtle who kept me. You can guess why, I’m sure.”


Hermione’s voice was even, but Harry detected a slight coldness in her manner.


“I, um, made an oath not to say,” Harry said in a whisper.


“Well, you ought to consider what explanations you are able to give. Tomorrow, both of them will
want answers.”


“What about you, Hermione? Do you want to wait until morning?”


“I only want to hear what you are happy telling me, Harry. I can’t deny I’m very curious,
though. I had no idea you could perform such advanced magic.”


“It isn’t that advanced,” admitted Harry. “The secret about how to work around the wards is
something traditionally passed only between Head Teacher to Head Teacher. In the past some of them
have confided some details to selected teachers, but there are some security protections that are
never disclosed.


“Every Headmaster and Headmistress adds their own unique protections to the school. If Professor
McGonagall has added anything new, then I wouldn’t be able to counteract them.”


“What about Professor Dumbledore’s protections?” asked Hermione.


“Well, exactly,” said Harry. “Dumbledore added many protections, but none more powerful than
when I came to Hogwarts. He knew the Prophecy and he knew the dangers I would face. He realised
that I would need Hogwarts to protect me, and he added some to do just that.


“The really clever thing that he did, though, was to realise that he and Hogwarts might fall to
Voldemort. He alone knew that I would need access to Hogwarts even if Voldemort had taken over.


“Anyway, you remember that he left me a few things in his will?”


“Yes. They were his Dark Detectors, weren’t they?”


“Mm, but something else arrived a few months after that. Can I show you?”


“Of course,” said Hermione, sitting up and brushing her hair back.


“Please understand,” said Harry gently, “that absolutely no-one can know of this. Not even
Professor McGonagall.”


“Harry, please don’t show me if it means breaking your word to Dumbledore.”


Harry smiled at her.


“As a matter of fact, this isn’t really the secret I’m keeping from you. The only reason I can’t
allow anyone to know about it is simply the questions that would be raised.”


Hermione frowned.


“Here, let me show you,” said Harry and waved his hand.


There was the briefest of flashes and a box appeared out of thin air, spinning slowly right in
front of them. Harry held up his hands and caught the box.


The box was cardboard with a matt green finish. A couple of labels had been torn off and it
looked entirely unremarkable.


“It’s a shoebox,” said Hermione.


“Yes,” agreed Harry. “It originally held a pair of slippers that he got for Christmas
sometime.”


Harry carefully lifted the cardboard lid to reveal the contents of the box.


“Runes,” said Hermione absently, observing the markings that covered every inch of the inside
faces of the box. “I suppose they protected the contents?”


“Yes. Don’t reach into the box, will you? Crookshanks got quite a fright when he got too curious
a while back. The box actually arrived separately, only a short while ago. It looked like it had
been through a storm to get here.”


Hermione smiled and nodded as Harry reached in and brought out one of the tightly rolled scrolls
of parchment. Each one looked like they were covered in Dumbledore’s handwriting.


“These scrolls contain all kinds of things,” said Harry, not opening the scroll in his hands.
“They range from safe routes through the Forbidden Forest to the passwords to get into the secret
passages. Fred and George didn’t discover a fraction of the true number of secret passages around
here, you know?”


The smile on Harry’s face faded as he looked down at the unopened scroll.


“I’ve read all of these many times. I still like to, actually. Not for their secrets; just
because I feel closer to Dumbledore that way.”


Hermione wrapped her arms around his and rested her head on his shoulder.


“This scroll, though, is the one I’ve read most often. There are no details of the protective
wards in this one, but it was the one that told me a secret I wasn’t to tell anyone. I don’t want
to hold anything back from you, Hermione; but at the same time I need to feel worthy of
Dumbledore’s trust. It told me about the shoebox and what its appearance might mean.”


“Shh,” she said gently. “Put it back, Harry.”


Harry returned the scroll to the box and refixed the lid on. It vanished with another wave of
his hand.


“Just so you know,” said Harry a little uncertainly. “There are circumstances where I could
reveal part of all this, but only where life would be at risk if I kept silent.”


Hermione nodded and then sighed deeply.


“We should turn in,” she said without moving. “You’ll need to be alert for the morning.
Professor McGonagall has invited us to join her for a private breakfast. Julia will be there too. I
should warn you that all three of us will be ganging up on you,” she added, kissing him on his
cheek.


“You too? I had hoped that you’d be on my side.”


“Let’s just say we all want things to work out in your best interests.”




9. You Need Permission To Do That Kind Of Thing
-----------------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 9 - You Need Permission To Do That Kind Of Thing**


At eight o’clock precisely, Hermione escorted Harry into Professor McGonagall’s office. A large
round breakfast table had been placed beside the window. Harry noted wryly that Julia had already
arrived; no doubt eager to begin his interrogation.


“Ah, good morning,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please come and join us.”


Harry didn’t make much of an effort to join in as they exchanged pleasantries, and instead
waited patiently for Professor McGonagall to bring the subject round to the events of the previous
night.


“I had a most unusual request yesterday morning, Harry,” she began.


“Oh, yes?”


“Carmen asked me to play a small part in a certain ongoing subterfuge. She said she would have
asked you but you were away and didn’t want to disturb you.”


“What did she want?”


“She asked that I give her a detention. It had to be this evening from eight o’clock. She was
most insistent upon the date and time.”


“Just for herself?”


“No. Mark Stannard had to receive the same punishment. She was considerate enough to provide me
with a reason for punishing them too, in the form of a small tornado that swept through the Great
Hall.”


“Carmen did that?” asked Julia. “I saw all the commotion, but I didn’t really see how it
started.”


“It was masterfully done,” said McGonagall with a smile. “She went over to collect Mark so that
they could continue helping Mr Filch. As Mark got up, Carmen loudly accused him of treading on her
foot. She then attempted to Jinx him but Mark merely dodged her. The tornado was the result of Mark
deflecting Carmen’s second strike. No-one was hurt, although the few students that were present
that early ended up covered with an assortment of breakfast foods.”


“Carmen doesn’t do things by half, does she?” said Harry. “I’m sorry for all the trouble,
Professor.”


“I take it that Carmen and Mark’s detention with Mr Filch was no coincidence?”


“No, Professor. I was hoping she could discover what Mark is really up to, but I did half hope
that Carmen would involve him in some of her other schemes too.”


“Poor, boy,” observed Julia. “He’s so quiet and she’s so manipulative. Did you see the look of
anguish on his face as Carmen limped up to see you, Headmistress? She must have been pretending the
whole time!”


“I did. She was most convincing.”


“What do you suppose Carmen wanted Mark to be distracted from?” asked Hermione.


“Yes, I’ve been wondering that too,” said Professor McGonagall. “Clearly she believed he would
make some use of his free time after lessons.”


“She must suspect what he’s up to; either that or she wants revenge on me,” said Harry.


“Possibly both,” said Hermione with a smile.


“Well, time will tell. Now, Harry, I’d like to discuss last night, if we may,” said Professor
McGonagall.


Harry nodded and put down his coffee cup.


“First of all, I’d like us all to agree not to discuss what happened outside of the four of
us.”


Harry frowned slightly as Julia and Hermione nodded their agreement to this. He had the feeling
that the three of them had already discussed the matter last night.


“Secondly, I’ve long suspected that Albus may have given you access to privileged information
about certain Hogwarts wards. I’d like to think I’d have done the same thing, in his place.
However, I think you should know, Harry, that we witnessed something much deeper than passwords or
simple incantations to set aside a security ward.”


Harry said nothing but continued to stare down at his plate.


“As head teacher, I now have access to all the wards and protections of my office,” she
continued. “Even so, I couldn’t begin to think how I’d perform those structural changes.”


“I even had a go at moving some of the new stonework on my way up here this morning,” added
Julia. “I found that the new stonework is just as well protected as the old.”


“That’s because the old wards were never removed,” said Harry quietly. “The trick isn’t to
remove them, but to simply get their co-operation to a change.”


“But how did you learn to perform such permanent transfigurations?” pushed Julia. “I’d be
prepared to bet that stonework that permanent wasn’t transfigured like that since the Founders laid
the foundations.”


“Not quite. The Charms wing is a few centuries after the Founders,” said Harry. “But, I’m really
not that good at transfiguration. It is true, for reasons that I can’t go into, that I’m quite good
at temporary stonework these days. However, the only reason it is permanent is that the wards, or
rather the magical legacy in the castle stonework, was content with the changes.”


“This was part of the tuition Albus gave you in your Sixth Year?” asked McGonagall.


“No,” said Harry sadly. “He did leave me something to help me. It didn’t arrive until months
after his death, but it did include some information about the wards protecting the castle and the
grounds.


“He left strict restrictions on how I would be permitted to use the information he gave me, but
at the time they were only of limited use. I think he knew I wouldn’t have been powerful enough
because he left simpler access points that I could use.”


“There are weak points?”


“No, not exactly,” said Harry. “There are about a dozen specific locations that were charmed to
recognise me and allow me to pass. Adjacent to those locations are extra protections he told me how
to get through. That way, even if I were acting under duress, I’d have some control.”


“I see,” said Professor McGonagall. “So, what about the protections within the castle?”


“I’ve only recently been able to interact with the castle wards. I think staying here again has
helped with that.”


“So, why haven’t you rearranged you apartments, Harry?”


Harry looked up and smiled at her.


“You asked me not to, Professor.”


Professor McGonagall just rolled her eyes and continued.


“Well, we really can’t avoid speaking to you about the other issue. I have noticed that lately
you are increasingly performing magic without a wand, Harry.”


“Um, maybe,” agreed Harry. “Sometimes it is necessary, as I hinted at last night. If I had
attempted to move the Wall of Wonders with my wand, it would have collapsed. I’m sure of it.”


“Harry, this really isn’t the political climate to be seen doing that kind of magic,” said
Hermione.


Harry was momentarily stunned.


“Couldn’t you pretend to be using your wand?” suggested Julia.


“Just a moment,” said Harry, finding his voice. “What were all those laws that you and Arthur
pushed through all about, Hermione? I’ll remind you, shall I? Everything, as far as I am concerned,
was about the elimination of prejudice and inequality. House elves, Centaurs, Goblins and Humans
were given the right to be judged upon their actions. People’s rights should not depend simply upon
who they are; or because of what people think they are.


“If I hit someone over the head, it should not matter whether I used a rock or a club; or if I
threw it or levitated it. If I curse someone, it shouldn’t matter whether I used a wand or
not.”


“I agree, Harry,” said Hermione, placing a placatory hand on his forearm.


“You must have seen the newspaper articles,” said Professor McGonagall. “For weeks now the
Prophet has been running scare stories and the Ministry has been making more and more promises to
act if there is enough public concern.”


“I think we are seeing the result of a very carefully planned campaign,” said Hermione. “Neville
has warned you of some of the rumours going around the Ministry.”


“The Aurors and the Wizengamot wouldn’t allow anything like that to happen,” said Harry. “In
fact, the Magical Law Enforcement department is even more strict when it comes to defending
rights.”


“Think about it, Harry. The very people you are relying on to defend the status quo are
precisely those who would be targeted. The wandless magic thing is probably just an excuse to get
rid of anyone powerful enough to intervene.”


“Well, exactly. Can you really see them staying put in Azkaban?”


“Perhaps the Ministry is making other plans,” suggested Julia. “If I wanted to imprison the
country’s most powerful witches and wizards, I would build a new prison. Azkaban was only suited to
the Dementors, after all.”


“What does Kingsley say about all this?” asked Harry.


“As a matter of fact, he raised the subject with me,” said Professor McGonagall. “I’m afraid I
have asked him to keep his head down and not ask too many questions. If the worst does happen, I’d
like him in a strong position within the new regime. The Order would appreciate it if you didn’t
compromise him, Harry.”


“Oh. I’d probably better not go and annoy him, then. I was planning on dropping by to see him
this Thursday, if it was okay with you, Professor.”


“Yes, Neville has already made contact with Kingsley. I suspect that the three of you may well
meet up at some point; by sheer coincidence, of course.”


Harry smiled at her and nodded.


“Please don’t get yourself arrested, Harry,” pleaded Hermione.


*


“Mark, could I have a quick word?” asked Harry, raising his voice so he could be heard over the
din of students making their way out of his classroom.


Mark hoisted his bag over his shoulder and slowly made his way to the front of the class where
Harry was stacking their homework essays.


“What happened with your hands?” Harry asked with concern, looking at the now dirty bandages
that both of his hands were wrapped in.


“Oh, nothing,” said Mark. “I got a few blisters from polishing that armour and I got burnt when
one of the charms in the display got through the outer wall. Madam Pomfrey says I have to wear the
bandages until this evening, but it doesn’t hurt.”


“How come you got involved with the Wall of Wonders anyway?”


“I was trying to get away from Carmen yesterday. I ducked into the Great Hall but got roped in
before I could get away again.”


Harry smiled.


“By the way, congratulations on being one of only three students to have passed all of the
challenges. I’m impressed.”


“Well, I was a little motivated. Carmen was waiting by the exit and I’m sure she was going to
get her friend to help get me. She was in a bad mood all day yesterday after I accidentally stood
on her foot.”


Harry snorted despite himself.


“Um, Sir? Professor McGonagall gave us both detention with you this evening. Do you think I
could do it another night? I know you do further education classes on Mondays and I could really
use the time to catch up on some homework.”


“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Mark. Professor McGonagall wouldn’t appreciate it if she
thought she was being undermined. Besides, she often pops in to see how the evening classes are
going. She will probably expect you to be there.”


“How about if I did two detentions later on?” asked Mark hopefully.


“No, come along at eight as planned and I’ll see if you can’t get away early.”


Mark couldn’t hide his disappointment.


“Okay, Sir.”


There was a knock on the open door and Natasha came in.


“I’ve a note for you, Sir,” she said brightly as she and Mark passed.


“Thanks, Natasha. You seem to be in a good mood?”


“Yes, I suppose I am. I got an owl from Uncle David this morning. They are back in the country
and hopes to visit before he starts back at work.”


“That’s nice.”


“Yes. Professor McGonagall said I could meet them in Hogsmeade for a couple of hours. I hope she
won’t forget she said it would be okay, only it isn’t an official Hogsmeade weekend.”


“I’m sure she won’t have forgotten,” said Harry as he opened the sealed scroll and read the
message.


“Natasha, has Carmen been skipping classes?”


“Not *precisely*, Sir, no.”


“According to this note, she was missing from both of her morning lessons.”


“Well, actually, she decided to attend some *different* classes his morning. I’m surprised
you didn’t know already, actually.”


*


“Will you keep your voice down!” whispered Carmen’s disembodied voice from under the
invisibility cloak.


“Carmen, you can’t just decide to join other peoples classes,” continued Harry. “You need
*permission* to do that kind of thing. I suppose it was you who kept re-arranging the letters
on my chalkboard this morning?”


“Sounds like something Peeves would do, actually.”


“No, he would have made more creative use of all those *F*s. Besides, he generally makes
more of an effort to make the limericks actually rhyme.”


“Well, you should use more words ending with *ing**.*”


“Oh, and thanks for correcting my dates. I always mix up 1659 and 1569.”


“No problem.”


Beside him, Hermione was chuckling quietly, listening to them argue while they ate lunch.


“I’m starving! Pass me a roll or something, will you?”


Hermione obliged as Harry continued to get some answers out of Carmen.


“Okay, let’s start again. How did you get hold of my Dad’s old invisibility cloak and why are
you wearing it right now?”


“Hermione lent it to me and I didn’t think students generally had lunch at the teacher’s table.
I needed to brief you and keep an eye on Mark at the same time. If he goes early, I’ll need to
follow, okay?”


“I got the impression he was simply avoiding *you*, Carmen.”


“Do you want to know what he’s up to or not?” spat Carmen irritably.


“Yes. What did you find out?”


“Well, mainly that he’s quite good at knowing when he’s being followed or watched and knows how
to defend himself. I pretended that I was afraid he would skip off Filch’s detention and leave me
to do it all, so I had an excuse to stick with him in the library.


“He’s got this notebook that he writes everything down, but it’s charmed to go blank.”


“Yes, I knew that,” said Harry quietly.


“I tried to borrow an blank page to draw on and he became very defensive. Anyway, I managed to
get a very quick look at an open page though. It looked like a copy from a book that just has to be
from the Restricted Section. I’ve no idea how he got access. Maybe he forged a permission slip or
something.”


“What was it about?”


“The Death Arch.”


Hermione and Harry both turned to each other with identical looks of concern. They then looked
over to the Hufflepuff table where Mark Stannard was eating quietly. Outwardly, he looked relaxed
but his eyes were constantly alert, presumably for Carmen’s presence.


It struck Harry then that Mark may never have actually eaten in the Great Hall when so many of
his peers were present before that day, often preferring to take meals in the Hufflepuff common
room. Winky had admitted to him that the house elves sometimes left food parcels for him, although
he’d never asked them to.


“I tried revealing the rest of the text but I was afraid he might tell that I’d been looking.
He’s used a powerful charm and I might have risked burning the paper.”


“No, you did right. Anything else?”


“Yes. Every free moment he has is spent down in the dungeons. He was looking for something and I
managed to get a look at the map he was using last night.”


“Map?”


“Yes, I think he was looking for another hidden arch here at Hogwarts.”


Harry shuddered.


“*Was* looking?”


“Well, early this morning I caught up with him again. He was talking to someone that I didn’t
see properly. I’m fairly sure it was a ghost. Anyway, they told him not to bother looking in the
castle. He said the arch he was looking for was located in the Forest.”


Harry swore under his breath.


“There really is a second Death Arch?” asked Hermione.


Harry nodded seriously.


“Carmen, were you afraid Mark would go off into the forest tonight?”


“Yes!”


“Okay,” said Harry urgently. “Hermione, can you stay and help?”


“Of course,” she replied at once.


“Thanks. Carmen, you are excused lessons for the rest of the day. I’ll square it with Professor
McGonagall, but you are to stick with Mark until our detention this evening. If he goes anywhere
near the forest, stun him and call for help.”


“Okay, if you’re letting me off homework too.”


“No, of course I’m not.”


Harry ignored Carmen’s loud *tutting* noise.


“Hermione, I need to know any upcoming dates that have magical significance. I thought the arch
was dormant and hidden for most of the year, but on some dates it becomes active. Well, that’s
assuming it behaves the same as the London arch. If we knew the days Mark would be at particular
risk, we might have an advantage.”


“Mark may not know that, though,” Hermione pointed out.


“Yes, surely he’ll be in as much danger from the Forest itself?” added Carmen.


“I’d still feel happier knowing whatever we can to find out about that arch. It’s true that just
because it isn’t active, it doesn’t mean the arch isn’t dangerous. It’s just that when it is
active, it can sort of draw you in.”


Harry was lost in thought for a moment.


“What will you do?” asked Hermione. “Harry?”


“I’m going to try and find out who told Mark that the arch was in the Forbidden Forest.”


“Should we try to tell the Centaurs? Perhaps they could guard the arch?”


“No, that isn’t a good idea right now. If Mark does manage to go in there on his own I wouldn’t
want a herd of Centaurs waiting for him. I’m not even sure I’d want Firenze to know.”


At that moment Mark rose from the table and made his way out of the hall. Harry heard Carmen
scramble after him under the cloak.


“Who could have told him about this arch?” asked Hermione.


“Well, I can count the people that I know could have told Mark on three fingers. Me, Voldemort
and Draco Malfoy. Before today, I was sure no-one else knew.”


“Draco? You think he may have returned as a ghost?”


“It must be possible. Our one break is that Malfoy never knew the exact location of the arch, at
least while he was alive. If it is him, I just hope he couldn’t have told Mark where it is.”


“Do you know where it is?” asked Hermione tentatively.


“I vaguely remember, yes,” said Harry. “I had hoped to never see the damn thing again.”




10. How Did He Manage The Stairs?
---------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 10 - How Did He Manage The Stairs?**


At a little before eight o’clock that evening, Harry waited in the Great Hall for the rest of
his evening class students to arrive and find seats.


Hermione had spent all day in the Library researching any significant magical dates and Carmen
had trailed Mark around the school under his invisibility cloak. Thankfully Mark hadn’t gone out
into the grounds at all that day and Carmen had managed to remain undetected, something Harry
considered quite exceptional. It must have been very tempting for Carmen to play a few tricks on
the unsuspecting students around her.


Harry wondered if Mark wasn’t biding his time and planning out how he was going to search the
Forbidden Forest.


His own search of the dungeons had been a complete waste of time, although he did think he heard
sniggering at one point.


Carmen and Mark entered the hall and made their way towards him.


“Carmen!” said Ron loudly as they approached.


“Hi, Ron!” she said brightly. “This is Mark. Apparently Harry wants us to give extra-strong ear
wiggling hexes to anyone who hasn’t done the homework, so watch out!”


Ron burst out laughing while Mark looked on, apparently shocked that Carmen should call Harry by
his first name right in front of him.


“Hi, Mark,” said Ron, still smiling and extending out his hand. Mark nodded nervously and shook
Ron’s hand. “I hope you don’t take any nonsense from Carmen. You know she stuck by best pair of
slippers to the underside of my trunk lid, and I never did figure out how to remove them!”


Mark smiled nervously.


“Hey, there’s Remus!” said Carmen. “Come on, Mark, I’ll introduce you to a real Werewolf!”


Ron smiled widely as she grabbed Mark’s arm and pulled him off towards an unsuspecting Lupin who
was chatting with a small group at the side of the hall.


Harry perched himself down on the bench beside him.


“I bet she’s a handful,” observed Ron.


Harry snorted and nodded.


“The worst of it is, I actually encourage her most of the time.”


Mrs Ledred came into the hall followed by Moody. As usual, he was being interrogated on Auror
tactics by Mrs Ledred’s young daughter, Janeen.


Moody limped up to the front and growled, “Right. We all here? Hm, I think we need to attract
everyone’s attention.”


“Me! Me!” said Janeen, jumping up and down.


Everyone turned to watch as Mad-Eye handed her his wand.


“Go on, then.”


Janeen pointed the wand up straight up and made an enormous *Bang*!


Harry joined in the cheering and clapping as Janeen returned Moody’s wand to him before taking
her usual seat right next to him. Everyone quickly found a seat and listened.


“Excellent!” roared Moody, rubbing his hands. “Now this week we’re going begin learning to
perform a couple of old favourite charms. Banishment and Summoning. As usual, we’ll divide up into
three groups after our initial demonstration and there’ll be time next week to continue practising
for those that want to.”


Moody conjured a small mountain of brightly coloured cushions and sent them flying off in all
directions as he explained how to perform the spells. Janeen would usually retrieve the cushions
for him but this week Carmen and Mark did the honours.


There were a couple more children this week, but Harry suspected Moody’s appearance was a factor
in them preferring to remain close to their parents.


Janeen, whose Auror ambitions were as strong as ever despite the harrowing tales Mad-Eye kept
telling her, soaked up every second of Moody’s demonstration. Harry thought her presence was
definitely improving Moody’s teaching too, since he took the trouble to explain things in simple to
understand terms.


After about half an hour, everyone started having a go themselves and Harry joined Lupin in
going around and helping people with their wand-work.


Shortly after that, Harry divided the class into three. Moody continued to teach the summoning
and banishing charms while Harry practised the previous week’s charms and Lupin helped with any
other spells people were having difficulties with.


In the beginning, people had been a little shy about admitting not being able to perform the
simplest spells properly. Harry had been very thankful that Ron, with typical good humour, put
himself forward. This seemed to break the ice and now everyone seemed happy to come forward.


Harry looked around the hall. Carmen and Mark were helping Lupin at the back of the hall and
both seemed happy and relaxed. Moody was showing how it was possible, with a little practise, to
simultaneously summon one object whilst banishing another. This was something Harry had never been
able to master fully and he was tempted to wander over to watch. Then he thought better of it as
his other students better deserved his attention.


He was about to take another tour when Carmen shrieked loudly. Everyone turned to see Mark dive
for cover, his robes suddenly ablaze.


Lupin jumped forward to help, but Carmen beat him. She pointed her wand down and blasted him
with cold air, putting out the flames at once.


“I’m so sorry!” cried Mrs Ledred as Carmen collapsed beside Mark, crying with laughter.


Harry, though, was afraid Mark might not see the funny side of things. If he retaliated, someone
could get hurt.


Harry was a only few feet away when Mark emerged from his charred robes. He was very red-faced
but managed a smile.


“You okay, Mark?” asked Harry, helping him to his feet.


“Yes, I think so,” he replied, looking very embarrassed.


Mrs Ledred was still looking horrified at what she had just done.


“It was my fault, really.” Mark said to her. “I should have known you’d get it right on only
your third attempt.”


The bell went signalling the end of the evening class and Harry thanked everyone for coming and
hoped they could make it the next week when it would be his turn to select a new spell.


As everyone gathered their things he turned to Mark. Carmen was still wiping away tears and kept
bursting into suppressed laughter when she met Mark’s eyes.


“Well, thank you for your help, both of you. I think you’ll receive twenty points each.”


“Should we really get House points for coming to a detention?” asked Mark, examining a charred
sleeve.


“Don’t remind him!” Carmen muttered.


“Well, this is a Monday night detention, after all,” said Harry with a smile. “Carmen, please
take Mark up to Madam Pomfrey and make sure he gets checked out. Leave your robes out so the House
Elves know which ones to collect for mending.”


Harry watched the two of them leave and then realised Ron and Lupin were standing next to him,
both with an expectant look on their faces.


Moody limped over and characteristically cut to the chase.


“Alright, Potter,” he growled. “Out with it.”


“Let’s wait for everyone to leave, okay?”


A few minutes later, Professor McGonagall and Hermione joined them in the Great Hall after all
the students other than Ron had been escorted from the grounds.


“Unless I’m very much mistaken, Harry,” said Moody. “You were quite ready to stun that kid,
weren’t you?”


Harry nodded reluctantly.


“I was afraid he would react badly,” he admitted, “especially with Carmen laughing at him like
that.”


“Actually, I think that’s what calmed him,” said Lupin quietly. “There was no spite in her
laughter.”


Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.


“I don’t think we should be discussing any issues that one of our students may be working
through.”


“Oh, why not? We used to talk about Potter all the time,” said Mad-Eye with a wink at Harry.


“It is a private matter for now, Alastor,” she replied firmly. “Now, I’d like your assistance in
another matter. Harry discovered evidence that someone may be living in the forest. I’d like you
all to consider how we can find out who they are and what they want.”


“Why not ask the Ministry?”


“I’d rather not involve the Ministry just now. I’ll call upon them as a last resort.”


“Well, the only way is to go in there and look,” said Moody. “How are the Centaurs these
days?”


“They’re not too friendly towards us at the moment; well some are but I’d imagine most aren’t,”
said Harry.


“Perhaps we could,” began Lupin when the great doors flew open and Carmen came running back in
with note for Professor McGonagall.


She read it quickly and said, “Thank you, Carmen. Please return to the Hospital Wing and make
sure everyone stays there. I shall want to speak to them presently. No-one is to leave. Please ask
Madam Pomfrey to make everyone comfortable until I get there.”


Carmen turned and ran back at once.


“What is it?” asked Harry, getting to his feet. “Has Mark done something?”


“No. Alec Brown is missing. He left a note saying he was returning to the forest to obtain a
sample of the plant that may have poisoned Adeline.”


“Poisoned?” repeated Harry. “I thought she was fine.”


“It seems her condition deteriorated suddenly this evening. She is poorly but stable.”


“When did he go?” asked Ron.


“He was last seen about three hours ago.”


“We’d better get a move on, then,” said Moody.


“Agreed,” said Professor McGonagall, conjuring a tartan travelling cloak out of thin air.


“Um, Professor,” said Hermione tentatively. “I know you must be keen to get Alec back to safety,
but wouldn’t it be best if you stayed here? What if Mark Stannard takes advantage of all the
confusion to slip into the forest himself?”


“Hermione’s right,” said Harry. “Let us go and search for Alec.”


*


Harry paused before leading the small group into the forest.


“We’ll go directly to the Unicorn’s clearing. If Alec isn’t there, we’ll split up and search in
groups.”


“Lead on,” ordered Moody from the back. “Don’t wait for me; I know my way around this
forest.”


They headed off with Harry taking the quickest and most direct route he knew. Hermione, Ron and
Lupin hurried along in his wake.


After several minutes they arrived at the clearing but there was no sign at all of Alec.


“We should collect a sample of the plants for Madam Pomfrey while we are here,” said
Hermione.


“Good idea, Hermione,” said Lupin. “Where abouts did she hurt herself, Harry?”


“We came through to the clearing from over there,” he said pointing and Hermione and Lupin
hurried over.


“I don’t see anything obviously poisonous,” commented Lupin and the two of them scanned the
dense bushes with their wand beams. “Let’s cut our way through, shall we?”


“Um, we ought not to use Reductor spells. We need to be careful not to damage the plants in case
we destroy the very thing we need.”


“Good point,” agreed Lupin. “Well, it looks like we’ll have to risk being scratched
ourselves.”


“Hang on,” said Ron, marching over. “You give me some light and I’ll make a space.”


Before the others could object Ron had practically dived into the thorny bushes.


“Oh, be careful, Ron!” said Hermione as the sound of ripping cloth reached their ears.


Trying to ignore Ron’s loud mutterings, Harry scanned the surroundings. He hadn’t seen or heard
any sign of the Centaurs, but he assumed they wouldn’t be far. He hoped that Alec hadn’t fallen
foul of them.


Although Harry was itching to start searching, he knew that finding the plant that had poisoned
Adeline was important.


“Harry Potter,” said a relaxed voice.


Harry spun around and pointed his wand in the direction of the voice. Two narrow wand light
beams followed and before them a Centaur was illuminated.


“Firenze!” cried Harry with relief, lowering his wand.


“Hey, what happened to the light?” complained Ron, sounding like he was thrashing about.


“Sorry, Ron,” said Hermione.


Harry walked forward to greet the Centaur.


“I’m sorry to have disturbed this place again so soon, Firenze, only we have a slight emergency.
One of my students is missing.”


“His name is Alec Brown?”


“Yes! You found him?”


“Yes. He is safe, although he did manage to offend a number of elder members of the herd,”
Firenze said, smiling slightly.


“I’m so sorry.”


“There is no need to apologise. I can assure you that you would be most proud of the way Mr
Brown conducted himself this evening.”


“Apart from breaking school rules and being an idiot by coming in here alone?”


“I am convinced his motives were well-founded.”


“Thanks, Firenze. Where is he?”


“Valiente and Alec are collecting some herbs that will make an effective antidote to the plant
he was looking for.”


“You know what it was?”


“Alec showed Mergus and Valiente the path you took into the forest. From the symptoms he
described, it seemed that the girl had reacted to either Taupe Bearberry or Underwort, to use the
wizarding names. Mergus found both. Fortunately, the remedy should be equally effective in either
case.”


“Um, Ron?” called Hermione from behind them. “You can come out now. Ron?”


Harry turned but he heard more swearing and tearing that told him Ron would be fine.


“Firenze, did you have any luck finding the intruder who was camping out in here?”


“We have continued to search but without success so far. It seems clear that it is a lone
individual and they are very familiar with the forest.”


“If you don’t mind, Professor McGonagall would like to send search parties into the forest as
well. She has not informed the Ministry, though.”


“Does she have any particular concerns?”


“Well, I’m concerned that whoever it is may represent a risk to the students. If they are
familiar with the forest they may also be familiar with the school.”


“I see. I will discuss the matter with the herd elders. Provided the Ministry stay out of the
forest, any objections should be overcome. I would suggest a joint effort, but I would want to
carefully select who we sent along to join you.”


Harry nodded.


“Thank you, Firenze. I am in you debt once again.”


Firenze bowed slightly.


“Please give my warmest regards to Professor McGonagall. It has been too long since we have
spoken.”


“I’ll tell her.” Harry promised.


“Would you and your friends like an escort out of the forest? Given the late hour, I suspect the
Valiente will have escorted Mr Brown back to the edge of the forest by now, although Mergus only
reported back a short while ago.”


“No. We’ll be fine, thanks.”


Harry bid Firenze goodbye and then helped extricate Ron from the undergrowth. It seemed Ron had
got so far in he had actually met Moody coming through in the opposite direction.


*


They dashed up to the Hospital Wing as soon as they got back to the castle. To Harry’s surprise,
there was quite a large gathering at the far end of the ward.


The centre of attention seemed to be Adeline, whom Harry could hear laughing.


Luna stepped out from the group and met them halfway down the ward.


“Professor McGonagall called to say you’d be late, so I thought I’d come and meet you. Ron, look
at the state of your robes! What have you been doing?”


“Helping,” he replied with a grin.


Harry smiled and said, “I take it Alec got back okay?”


“Yes. Professor McGonagall sent him up to her office once the antidote was administered. You
should know that Madam Pomfrey has asked her not to be too harsh in her punishment.”


“Okay. Thanks, Luna.”


Harry continued down the ward, but was this time interrupted by Madam Pomfrey.


“How is Adeline?” he asked.


“As you can hear, she is fine,” said Madam Pomfrey over more laughter. “Mr Brown has been
telling me constantly since Friday evening that something was wrong, you know? I realised it might
possibly be Taupe Bearberry but it is such a rare plant. I never even considered Underwort as it
isn’t supposed to grow in our climate.”


“Well, so long as she’s okay. That’s the main thing.”


The Hospital Wing doors opened again and in came Carmen, followed by Mark, Natasha and,
incredibly, the Centaur colt Valiente.


“We’ve just been showing Valiente around the school,” Carmen announced brightly. “He’s seen the
Library and we had a quick look around the Transfiguration Department. Mark wouldn’t tell us the
password to get into the Hufflepuff common room, so we had to make do with Gryffindor.”


“You didn’t make Valiente go up and down all those stairs, did you?” asked Harry, feeling quite
exasperated. “I’m sorry, Valiente. You are more than welcome here, of course, but we must seem very
poor hosts.”


“Not at all,” said Valiente politely. “The, um, Gryffindor entrance was a little challenging, I
admit.”


“Don’t worry,” said Natasha. “The Fat Lady’s always shouting stuff like that at Carmen,
especially when I sneak in.”


“Valiente wanted to say goodbye to Adeline before he went home,” said Carmen, taking Valiente’s
hand and pulling him towards the end of the ward. “Hello, Madam Pomfrey,” she added with a
grin.


Madam Pomfrey looked simply too shocked to reply at this point.


Harry looked down at Mark who had not followed the other three.


“How did he manage the stairs?”


“*Carefully*,” replied Mark, making Hermione snort.


“Tell me she didn’t really make him go through the Gryffindor entrance hole.”


“She was most insistent. The Fat Lady objected to her using the same method we got into the
Library, though. Madam Pince is *not* going to be happy.”


“Don’t tell me. There’s a Centaur shaped hole where the door should be?”


Mark just nodded but then leaned forward to ask quietly, “Is Madam Pomfrey alright, Sir?”


“She’ll be fine in a moment,” replied Harry reassuringly.


“Harry?” interrupted Hermione. “I’m going to take Luna and Ron up to the staff apartments so Ron
can get cleaned up.”


“Sure,” said Harry. “I won’t be too long.”


Harry walked slowly towards the students gathered around Adeline’s bed.


“Oh, you have to come again,” Carmen was insisting to Valiente. “You haven’t seen the Astronomy
Tower, the Owlery or the Kitchens yet!”


Valiente continued to look doubtful but Adeline spoke before he could muster a reply.


“Thank you again for helping Alec, Valiente,” she said warmly. “I do hope you’ll come and visit
us again.”


Valiente bowed and said, “You need rest now, and I must return to the forest. I am glad I could
help.”


Valiente stepped back and those who had been seated on adjacent beds rose.


“We’ll escort you back,” said Natasha.


It was clear that the entire group intended to go with Valiente.


“Just a moment,” said Harry. “We don’t need any more excursions out of bounds tonight.”


“But we have to,” objected Carmen loudly and there was much murmuring of agreement.


“Harry, Alastor and I will escort them,” said Lupin from behind him. “We’ll make sure they all
return safely.”


Harry looked right at Carmen and said seriously, “No messing around, okay?”


“Me?” she said innocently, making most of the students burst out laughing.


“Alright,” said Harry. “Go on, then.”


They moved en masse out of the Hospital Wing, shouting goodbyes as they went. When the doors
finally swung shut the silence that followed seemed to ring.


Harry went over to Adeline and smiled down at her.


“You feeling better?”


“Yes. I’m just a little tired, but Madam Pomfrey says I can go back to classes tomorrow.”


“Good.”


“Um, Sir? Professor McGonagall seemed very angry with Alec earlier. He was only trying to help,
after all.”


“The forest can be a very dangerous place, Adeline. Both of you knew that. Alec should never
have even considered going in there alone and at night.”


Adeline nodded.


“I will have a word with Professor McGonagall,” he said gently, “but he will have to be
punished. Now, try and get some rest, okay?”


Harry turned and remembered what Firenze had said earlier.


“Adeline? Do you know what happened between Alec and the Centaurs?”


“No. Did something happen, then?”


“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it was nothing. You can ask him about it tomorrow.”




11. The Bumper Book Of Pop-Up Spells, Junior Edition
----------------------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 11 - The Bumper Book Of Pop-Up Spells, Junior Edition**


Harry knocked on Professor McGonagall’s office door, but assumed he hadn’t been heard due to the
raised voices coming from inside. He opened the door to find Alec shouting at the top of his
voice.


“WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?”


“Do you think we could we could possibly discuss this without shouting at each other?”
McGonagall asked pointedly.


Alec looked like he wanted to shout a response right back but he seemed to regain a little of
his composure.


“I’m sorry, Professor. I didn’t mean to shout.”


“That’s quite alright. Please, Alec, take a seat.”


“You know?” drawled Phineas Nigellus. “This one shouts even louder than Potter. Talk of the
Devil.”


“I can come back later,” said Harry, making Alec start.


“No, please come in,” said McGonagall, sounding tired. “Alec was just explaining to me why it
was necessary for him to venture into the forest alone. We have yet to come to the explanation of
how he came to cause unrest amongst our Centaur neighbours.”


Harry sat down next to Alec and asked, “What happened, Alec? We met Firenze in the forest and he
hinted that something had happened. I should add, Professor, that Firenze also assured me that I
would be proud of the way Mr Brown conducted himself this evening. *Most proud*, were his
actual words. Oh, he also sends his warmest regards to you, Professor.”


Alec bowed his head, looking a little flushed.


“That was most kind of him,” said McGonagall gently. “Well, it seems I must reconsider. I value
Firenze’s good opinion most highly.”


“Alec, what did happen?” asked Harry.


Alec sighed deeply and looked up.


“I ran into Rullus again. He was with a few of his friends, but Mergus and Valiente weren’t
amongst them. Rullus was showing off and tried to get me to agree that Humans were inferior to
Centaurs. I said that I might not be superior, but I certainly wasn’t his *inferior*.


“Rullus didn’t like my answer, so I said we could just agree to differ. I was in a hurry to find
the plant, after all.


“Unfortunately, he liked that answer even less. He accused me of trying to trick him into
agreeing something with a Human. I said okay, I could just agree to *his* agreement to
*disagree* if I could just get on.


“He had to think about that for a while. I’m not sure he’s the brightest of the Centaurs.


“Anyway, Rullus concluded that the only way to settle the matter was a duel. Of course, I would
have to surrender my wand or it wouldn’t be fair. He would keep his bow because it wasn’t
magical.”


“How did you respond?” asked Harry.


“I just laughed at him,” Alec admitted with an embarrassed smile. “That wasn’t too smart, I
know, but he was so full of himself. I knew that I mustn’t perform magic on them, so I didn’t have
much of a problem giving up my wand if I had to.


“Then, I had this idea. I said it would only be fair if Rullus only had *one* weapon, but
asked him to agree to just using his bow. He agreed at once, and so I said, *Fine, I’ll have your
arrows, then*.”


Harry snorted.


“Rullus said he hadn’t agreed to no arrows and I insisted he had. They spent so long arguing the
point amongst themselves that Valiente turned up and then introduced me to Firenze. He asked what
was going on, and I explained why I had come into the forest.


“I did say I was sorry, to Firenze that is, but he wouldn’t hear my apology. He didn’t
intervene, either at that point so I went back to arguing with Rullus.


“Then, I remembered something you mentioned in class, Sir. I said that Centaurs were supposed to
find all their answers in the movement of the stars and planets. I asked if the issue hadn’t
already been answered but no-one had bothered to read it.


“That really got them thinking. Unfortunately, Rullus had had quite enough at that point. He was
about to draw his bow, when Firenze stepped between us and commanded me to leave the forest at
once. He said I was to perform a chore as my penance before I left, though. I realised after he
meant I was to collect the antidote plants.


“Mergus and Valiente helped me and explained how to prepare the medicine too. I don’t know what
happened with the other Centaurs, but when I left they were all just looking up into the sky.”


Harry chuckled and said, “I thought Firenze looked pleased. I think you made a powerful friend
tonight, Alec.”


“I did?”


“Sure. Firenze may be an elder now, but he was once an outcast. He was banished because he
agreed to teach here at Hogwarts. The other Centaurs accused him of becoming a servant to us
humans. In fact, I’d long known that Firenze took the job to promote understanding between us.


“Alec, not only did you restrain yourself from performing magic, you also didn’t act like you
were superior. *Smarter* than Rullus, certainly, but not superior.


“Most of the Centaurs are too clever for their own good, in my view. By keeping your head and
arguing with them, you showed that some humans *can* control themselves. You did well, Alec,
and Firenze will remember that.”


“You would also do well to remember, Alec,” said Professor McGonagall, “that although Firenze
may not have seemed to intervene, he undoubtedly saved your life tonight.”


“I know, Professor,” said Alec quietly. “I mean, I’ll remember.”


“Good. Now, it only remains for Professor Potter and myself to agree on your punishment. Madam
Pomfrey has recommended leniency on this occasion.”


“I don’t agree,” said Harry, turning back to Alec. “I took Alec into the forest to make him more
aware of the dangers, not less. It was irresponsible to go in there alone, especially as we know
there is someone unidentified in there. What if some of his friends decided to follow rather than
get help? The Acromantula colony aren’t too fussy who they eat these days.”


Alec was looking down at his hands.


“Why didn’t you come to one of us, Alec?”


“Both of you said Madam Pomfrey knew best. I was sure you’d insist Adeline was going to be
fine.”


“Maybe,” agreed Harry, “but perhaps we should have been given the benefit of the doubt. By the
way, Professor McGonagall was very reluctant not to lead the search party looking for you herself.
She had her cloak on before we managed to dissuade her. I’d be surprised if she wouldn’t have
accompanied you herself, had you told her your true intentions.”


“Well, I’d probably have sent you, Harry,” she said with a wry smile. “You always seem to enjoy
the more reckless adventures.”


Alec looked up.


“Alec, you will indeed accompany me into the forest,” said Professor McGonagall. “Clearly,
Professor Potter’s detention didn’t leave much of an impression. Therefore, next Saturday morning
we will pay our respects to Firenze and then see if we can’t find something with more legs than a
Unicorn. Fangs, too, if we’re lucky. Maybe you’ll actually *earn* a place in the Hospital
Wing.”


Harry had an almost overwhelming feeling of jealously. He remembered fondly the personal tuition
she had given him after Dumbledore had died.


At the time, of course, he hadn’t called it tuition. The description *walking into a nest of
giant spiders and starting a fight* had seemed so much more accurate.


“You may return to your dormitory, Alec.”


Alec got up and left, pausing to say goodnight when he got to the door.


“It doesn’t get any easier, does it, Harry?”


Harry snorted and shook his head in agreement.


“Um, Professor? Why did you call me *Professor* Potter?”


“Well, Harry, you *are* a Professor now, you know?”


“I am?”


“Scary, isn’t it?” said Phineas Nigellus.


“I thought I would have to write a paper, or something.”


“Did you seriously think Mad-Eye wrote a *paper*?”


“I assumed he earned a dispensation with all his experience.”


“There you go, then, *Professor*.”


Harry hesitated, but he just had to ask.


“Um, Professor?”


“No, Harry, you can’t come with us into the forest. I wouldn’t allow Ron nor Hermione to
accompany you before, did I? Besides, you were never supposed to actually *enjoy* our little
outings.”


Harry grinned at her, remembering the times they had spent in the forest. Professor McGonagall
had always insisted that they practise advanced defensive magic well out of sight of any other
students.


*


Harry opened the door to their apartment and smiled hearing the laughter inside. He entered and
found Ron and Luna sitting on the floor opposite Hermione who was leaning back against the
couch.


“We really ought to get a few more chairs, you know?”


“Well, I did offer them this one,” said Hermione.


“Did you see the Library, Harry?” asked Ron, earning himself a sharp dig from Luna’s elbow.


“I knew I’d forgotten something,” Harry said in annoyance. “Is it bad?”


“It was bril-” began Ron, now laughing. “*Ow*!”


“What’s brilliant about Carmen blasting the doors off?”


Ron looked like he wanted to answer but contented himself with rubbing his ribs and grinning
widely.


Harry frowned and looked between Luna and Hermione, hoping for a better explanation.


“I take it this is something I ought not leave until the morning?”


“N- No, Harry,” Hermione managed to say. “We thought it prudent to remove the note but I’m sure
the door repairs can wait.”


“Note? What note?”


“Um, perhaps now isn’t the time, Harry.”


“*Accio Carmen’s note*!”


Nothing came towards him but Ron sniggered loudly.


“Here,” said Hermione, holding up a folded piece of paper. Harry went over and sat down on the
couch. He made to take the note, but Hermione pulled it away slightly and said, “You will remember
this was meant in fun? She knew the note would be gone before anyone but us saw it.”


Harry frowned and Hermione handed him the letter. He unfolded it and immediately assumed she had
given him the wrong piece of paper.


It was written in his *own* handwriting.


*“Irma,*


*Sorry for the damage done to the Library doors, babe. As you can see from the hoof prints, we
had a special guest at the school tonight and couldn’t let him go without seeing our magnificent
Library, what with all the books ‘n stuff.*


*Hugs and kisses,*


*Love From,*


*Harrry Potter (Pruf)*


*PS Oh, and can I have an extension to my loan of the Bumper Book of Pop-Up Spells, Junior
Edition. Ta!”*


Harry looked up at the three expectant faces before him.


“Harry,” began Hermione in a tone that told him she thought he would react badly.


“It’s okay,” he said, touching the corner of the note with his wand and setting it on fire.
“Carmen spent all day stuck under my invisibility cloak, so I can hardly be surprised that she made
up for lost time.”


Hermione sighed and stroked his hand.


*


Harry knocked on the door of the recently relocated offices of the Ministry’s *Beast, Being
and Spirit* Department.


He immediately heard groans and clanking chains coming from inside. Feeling curious, Harry
opened the door.


Under a sign that read, “*Enquiries*,” an harassed looking witch said threateningly, “If
you don’t stop making that racket I’ll have your haunting licence revoked for *another* six
months.”


Harry looked around at the row of waiting room chairs.


A ghoul, wrapped from head to toe in bandages, stopped rattling his chains.


“Can I help you?”


“Um, yes,” said Harry. “I’ve got an appointment to see Mr Bunting.”


“Name?”


“Potter.”


“Ah, yes. Eleven o’clock. I’m sorry, but Mr Bunting had to out on an emergency call. His
assistant, Mr Muldoon might be able to help. Would you like to see him?”


“Yes, please.”


“Actually, you won’t be able to see him.”


“So, why ask me then?”


“No, he’ll see you but you won’t see *him*. He is exercising his rights under the new
International accord for spirits and is spending the next two weeks as an *invisible*
entity.”


“Oh, that’s nice.”


“Not really. It’s quite creepy once the novelty wears off. You never know where he is, you see?”
she added, looking around suspiciously.


“Right,” said Harry. “Where do I go?”


“Interview Room Two, on the right. I’ll send him along presently.”


Harry thanked her and went along the corridor until he found three interview rooms with frosted
glass doors. He entered number two and sat down at the small table to wait.


As he waited, Harry reflected on how glad he had been that Monday’s excitement hadn’t continued
into the week. Carmen had given up wearing the invisibility cloak and had instead persuaded
Professor McGonagall to rearrange the timetables. As a result the Third Year Hufflepuffs spend a
lot more lessons with the Gryffindors.


Harry was pleased to see Mark at long last amongst a group of his peers. He knew that Carmen
probably gave him little choice, but the others seemed to accept his presence without
complaint.


Carmen had reported that Mark’s time spent in the library was at a record low and he hadn’t once
visited the dungeons again. Even so, Harry hardly felt comforted by this news. Mark was much
smarter than he had been given credit for and Harry was sure he suspected all the sudden attention
was no coincidence.


Harry himself had continued to search all over the castle with no success. That failure had led
him to the meeting room he now sat in.


After about ten minutes Harry began to tire of waiting. He was about to go and ask if Mr Muldoon
had been delayed as well, when he spotted a wall clock above the door. The clock was running ten
minutes faster than his own watch.


“Yes, that clock has always been fast,” said a voice.


Harry jumped.


“Who’s there?”


“My name is Mr Muldoon,” said the voice.


“How long have you been here?”


“Since you arrived. I understand you wished for a consultation.”


“Yes, but perhaps in future you might tell people you are present?”


“Well, Mr Bunting usually conducts the interviews. Would you prefer to wait for him?”


“No!” said Harry. “I just need some advice, that’s all.”


“How may we help?”


“I’m a teacher at Hogwarts and I suspect that a new ghost may be hiding in the castle.”


“A *new* ghost? Do you have a name?”


“I could be wrong, but I suspect his name is Draco Malfoy. He died a few hours before
Voldemort.”


“Well, I can confirm that Mr Malfoy has not applied for permission to haunt Hogwarts. The castle
is possibly the most prestigious haunting place in the country. People have waited centuries for an
opening.”


“Is it possible for me to force him to reveal himself?”


“Some form of exorcism?”


“I suppose.”


“Well, no. Not unless the spirit is possessing an individual. Is he?”


“Um, no. Can you suggest anything else? I’m worried that Malfoy may be leading one of our
students into danger.”


“I’m afraid there is nothing we can help you with. Unless the other ghosts can force him out,
there is little you can do but wait. However, there is one thing you might try. This is strictly
off the record, you understand?”


“Yes, of course.”


“Well, you may not be aware of it, but a surprising number of ghosts and spirits know little of
death and even less about the rules and regulations appertaining to their condition. They are a
little scared by the whole notion of death. Anyone prepared to be, shall we say, *underhand*,
might be able to use their ignorance to their advantage.”


“I see,” said Harry carefully. “I mean, how *terrible*. Um, how exactly could that
work?”


“Do you have a notebook, Mr Potter? Good. Now, take this down.”


*


Harry was a little early when he arrived at Neville’s office, so he waited for Neville to finish
with his last appointment before lunch. They had agreed to act as if they were actually going to
lunch, although Harry had been sorely tempted to get out of the lift at the Fourth Floor.


Instead, Harry had studied intently the blocked off lobby through the lift’s grille gates as he
passed. He thought it strange that the lift should continue to stop at a level no longer being
used.


The blank wall a few feet from the grille gave no clue what was going on behind it, but didn’t
look particularly secure. Neville had speculated whether this was to encourage anyone curious
enough to break in to use that entrance. Having seen the lobby for himself, Harry tended to
agree.


They would find some other way to take a look inside.


Neville opened the door to the interview room across from the cramped offices and showed an
elderly couple to the door, each clutching several forms and looking much happier than when they
came in.


“If you have any more problems, just call me,” Neville was saying kindly. “I know all the form
filling can be confusing and often seems a waste of time, but sometimes it can help get things
done.”


Harry watched as Neville’s Head of Department, Mr Rawbone glared at them from his desk at the
back of the room. Neville had been criticised several times for the time and trouble he took to
help people fill in the correct approvals to get things done around the Ministry.


However, Neville’s wide family connections encompassed many of the most respected and
influential people in the wizarding community. Although Neville never used this to his advantage,
he often knew personally the great and good who visited the Department and inevitably more senior
colleagues were overlooked in favour of Neville.


“Thank you so much, Neville, dear,” the witch was saying in a shaky voice. “Please give Augusta
our love, won’t you? And dear, Ginny, too. You really must come and stay for a few days once the
stable refurbishment is complete.”


“Come along, dear,” said her husband. “We really shouldn’t take up any more of Neville’s
valuable time.”


Harry had been rather glad of the filing cabinets he’d had to duck behind a little earlier. He
had barely been able to suppress a laugh as Rawbone was imperiously dismissed after his clumsy
attempted to ingratiate himself. Harry didn’t know the woman who had gone directly to Neville, but
he did recognise her husband as one of the wealthiest men in the country.


Arthur Weasley had once introduced him to Harry at a Charity Fundraising evening that Hermione
had organised in the early days of his office, but he couldn’t quite remember his name.


“Goodbye, Mr Potter,” he called jovially with a wave across the open office area as they
left.


Harry, a little surprised that he should remember his name, just managed to stick his head over
the filing cabinets and wave back before they were gone.


Rawbone stood up the moment the door had closed, and Harry had a nasty suspicion he was about to
insist Neville do some task that wouldn’t leave time for him to take a lunch break.


However, before he could utter a word, the door was thrust open with such force that Neville had
to steady himself against a coat stand.


Kingsley Shacklebolt stormed into the room.


“There you are, Harry! Get up to Hogsmeade as soon as you can. I’m sending everyone I can get
hold of.”


“Why? What’s happened?”


“There’s been a kidnapping. I don’t have any details yet, but it was a young girl. Taken just
outside Honeydukes Sweetshop. Well? What are you waiting for? MOVE!”


“I’m gone,” Harry assured him.


“Longbottom, you go too. I’ll send everyone I can and see you up there.”


“Me?”


“You work for the Ministry, don’t you? You can either help with the search or stand guard at the
school while I get everyone mobilised. I’m placing more security around the school as a
precaution.”


“Of course,” said Neville, grabbing his travelling cloak, but Kingsley was already gone.




12. Yeah, But Now Neville’s Here!
---------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 12 - Yeah, But Now Neville’s Here!**


Harry and Neville hurried down to the Apparition Point in the Ministry lobby and were soon
running towards the Honeydukes shop.


Harry pushed his way through the crowd of concerned onlookers but was stopped by a wizard from
the Magical Law Enforcement squad.


“One moment, Sir. Oh. Sorry, Potter. I thought you were another reporter for a moment. You can
go in. Um, her family is inside.”


“Right. Neville’s with me.”


“Mr Longbottom, we are deploying Ministry people up at the school for now. Would you report to
the main entrance into the school grounds and take your instructions from the officer there?”


“Of course. See you later, Harry.”


“Okay, Neville,” said Harry and they parted.


As he pushed open the shop door, Harry’s stomach did a horrible flip. He had peered through the
glass and saw through a fleeting gap in the gathering of people inside a familiar tear stained
face.


“Oh, no,” he breathed.


They stepped inside and the officers parted. Kathryn was sitting down, supported by David Royce.
Kathryn looked simply devastated and David looked like he was barely able to control his anger.


“Kathryn,” said Harry. “David, what happened?”


“They took her,” said Kathryn in an anguished voice. “They came into the shop, shoved me to the
floor and grabbed her.”


Harry looked at David.


“I was waiting for them in the Three Broomsticks,” he said through gritted teeth. “I should have
been here. Just because I wanted a drink rather than go clothes shopping with Natasha. It’s all my
fault.”


“No, it isn’t,” said Harry forcefully. “You said *them*. How many were there?”


“*Four*,” said Ambrosius Flume, the shop owner. “It all happened so fast. They pushed Mrs
Royce out of the way and grabbed her. The little girl put up a fight, though. You can see the state
of the shop.”


“Four *men*?” repeat Harry, knowing this hardly fit the normal offender profiles.


“Yes. They had black robes and their faces were covered.”


“Not Death Eaters, surely?”


“No, they weren’t Death Eaters. They didn’t have masks, as such. More like hoods that covered
their faces.”


“Okay, did you see where they went?”


“They seemed to struggle with her outside for a moment, but then they Disapparated away,” said
Mrs Flume.


“Are you sure?” asked Harry, thinking of the stranger in the Forest who was apparently unable to
perform magic. “They didn’t use a Portkey?”


“Well, they may have done.”


The shop door opened again and the sprung bell tinkled again.


The officer from outside leaned in and said, “Message from Mr Shacklebolt.”


One of the other Aurors took the note and read it quickly. Harry looked around expectantly but
the Auror looked up with a slightly confused expression.


He stepped forward and said, “Mr Royce? You and your wife are to be escorted up to the school
immediately. Mr Shacklebolt is pulling us out of the village. We’re to return to London.”


“What?” shouted David angrily. “What about my niece?”


“David, it means Kingsley may have a break,” said Harry at once. “He wouldn’t pull the Aurors
away unless he knew they would be better employed elsewhere.”


“Shacklebolt knows where they took her?”


“Who knows?” said Harry, careful not to raise their hopes. “I’d bet Kingsley knows more than we
do, anyway. Peter, did that note say anything else?”


“Not really. You’re to stay at the school and Kingsley will go up there as soon as he’s deployed
everyone.”


“Well, it sounds like he a plan at least. Okay, you’d better get a move on. I’ll take Kathryn
and David up to the school.”


The other Aurors vanished with loud cracks. Several officers outside did the same, although one
remained to guard the door.


“Let’s go,” said Harry gently. “If news comes, it will come to the school.”


“Why did they take her?” asked Kathryn to herself in a weak voice as David helped her to her
feet.


*


They were met in the entrance hall by several concerned looking members of staff, but there were
no students present. As Professor Sprout escorted Kathryn and David up to Professor McGonagall’s
office, Harry pushed open the great doors.


The entire school was assembled in the Great Hall.


Harry couldn’t remember the last time everyone had been that quiet.


Professor McGonagall was standing alone at the front of the hall, her voice breaking with
emotion as she spoke.


“I repeat,” she was saying. “If anyone has any clue – no matter how remote – as to why anyone
would want to harm Natasha, I urge you to tell a member of Staff at once. Needless to say,
Hogsmeade will be out of bounds for the foreseeable future and classes will probably be disrupted
at least for the rest of the day.


“Finally, I would ask that you pay particular attention to both you own and your friends’ safety
at this time. A few days ago, evidence of someone hiding in the forest was discovered. I have no
idea if Natasha’s kidnapping and the presence of this person are linked, but I urge you to be
cautious and vigilant at all times.


“Very well. You may go.”


Nobody moved, but a low fevered chattering began at once throughout the hall. From the odd
snatches that Harry caught, it seemed that Professor McGonagall had told them everything she
knew.


She quickly marched between the tables towards him, apparently unable to look into the faces of
the worried students before her. Just as she got to the doors where Harry was waiting for her,
Carmen appeared at her elbow.


“Professor?”


Harry stepped between them and stopped Carmen. Pulling the door closed after McGonagall had gone
through, Harry bent lower and said, “Not now, Carmen. I know you’re worried but the Headmistress
has enough on her plate right now.”


“No! It isn’t that. Well, it’s about Natasha. She told me about a letter she got. She was
worried about it.”


“What? Step out here for a moment?”


Harry opened the great door again to allow them through but sealed the door after them.
Professor McGonagall hurriedly finished wiping her eyes.


“Carmen, what’s this about a letter?” asked Harry.


“Natasha got a letter a few weeks ago. I didn’t actually see it, but she said it was from the
Ministry of Magic. She described it to me and I said it didn’t sound genuine to me. Anyway, she
decided to write to her Uncle and ask him.”


“What did David say?”


“Natasha said he wrote back at once saying it was complete rubbish and that she wasn’t to
respond to it. He thought it was just a scam of some kind. I think she burnt the letter after
that.”


“What did the letter say?” asked McGonagall a little thickly.


“It said the Ministry was conducting a survey and this involved sending out questionnaires to
selected individuals. She was to complete the survey and submit it at an interview. It said she was
to report on some date. It must have said where too, but she never told me that.”


“So, someone tried to lure her away from school,” thought Harry aloud. “That means Natasha was
targeted. This wasn’t an opportunist grab.”


“Carmen?” asked McGonagall, her voice now stronger. “Do you think it possible that Natasha could
have told anyone else about the letter. I mean, is it possible that someone may remember more
details, like the address?”


“I’ll ask around,” she replied at once. “Natasha was pretty worried about it at the time. She
may well have spoken to others about it.”


“Thanks, Carmen,” said Harry, releasing the doors again.


*


“Yes, Natasha wrote to us about a letter,” said David after Harry had told him what Carmen had
just told them. “It was clearly a scam of some kind. There was some prize on offer for completing
the questionnaire. I told her not to respond and to warn her Head of House in case anyone else gets
one.”


“Did anyone else get such a letter?” asked Hermione.


“We don’t know yet,” said Professor McGonagall, now sitting at her desk.


“Did Natasha tell anyone other than Carmen?”


“Well, certainly not a member of Staff.”


“I told her to tell you,” said David, punching his thigh in annoyance.


“Yes, but it sounds like it happened during a period when Natasha and Carmen had already been
punished for breaking school rules. She probably didn't want to risk another telling off.”


“What did she do?” asked David.


“What does that matter now?” said Kathryn, placing a hand on his forearm.


Green flames erupted from the fireplace and Kingsley stepped out. He just stood there for a long
moment.


“What news?” several people asked tentatively.


It took a moment for him to realise so many people were present in the office. He seemed
uncharacteristically agitated.


“Kingsley?”


“Hm?” he said, looking up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve just had a stand-up row with the
Minister.”


“Any news of Natasha?” asked McGonagall with a hint of dread in her voice.


“I think I know where she’s being held,” replied Kingsley, looking around and seeing Harry
standing beside Kathryn and David.


He went over to them and said, “There are some things I need to tell Minerva and Harry that you
shouldn’t hear right now.”


“What? She’s hurt?”


“No,” added Kingsley quickly. “I’ve no information at all about her well-being. I’ve no reason
to believe she’s been hurt, but clearly time is of the essence. I know it’s hard, but the last
thing we need is for you to get involved.”


“I’m involved already,” growled David. “I’m coming too.”


“Can you honestly tell me you won’t just kill anyone you even suspect of being part of
this?”


“No,” admitted David and Harry knew he meant it.


“Please,” said Kingsley, more gently this time. “We’ll do all we can to get her back to you
safely.”


“Come with me down to the staff apartments,” suggested Hermione. “You’ll be much more
comfortable there anyway.”


Kathryn wiped her face and said, “They’re right, David. Natasha won’t thank you if the price for
her freedom is a life sentence in prison for you. Let’s let them do their jobs.”


“Thank you,” said Kingsley, sounding relieved. “Actually, Hermione? Could you stay too?”


Hermione looked a little surprised but nodded at once.


“I’ll take them down,” said Professor Spout at once.


A moment later, only four people remained in the circular office.


“Harry, how do you like being a teacher?” asked Kingsley darkly.


“Um, I like it fine.”


“Good, because you’re fired and I think I’ve just resigned. What I’m saying is, we go and get
her as members of the *Order*, not Aurors working for the Ministry.”


“Sure. Why, though?”


“That letter that Natasha received. It really was from the Ministry and, worse, she was taken on
a warrant issued by the Minister himself.”


“That’s outrageous!” said Professor McGonagall.


“It seems they have been following David Royce for some time, only they lost him when they went
on their honeymoon. That’s when they decided to target the girl. Anyway, they were drawing up a
warrant for his arrest as I left.”


“Why?” asked Hermione.


“The new Fourth Floor department became fully operational from midnight last night, as did
several new laws. Anyone suspected to have, or be capable of, performing wandless magic is to be
remanded or monitored. Anyone caught actually performing wandless magic is to be imprisoned.


“Shortly after I sent Harry and Neville up here, I was summoned to the Minister. He said he had
received some important information that indicated she was being held in London. He suggested I
recall everyone so that we could all listen to the evidence together. Like an idiot, I did just
that. I even suggested you stay up here, Harry.


“As people began to arrive back for the briefing, it became clear that not everyone was
returning. In fact, there were hardly any Aurors at all. I expect Hemlock didn’t have me down as a
troublemaker because I was sitting right at the front when he announced that the kidnapping was
misreported and that the girl was actually a suspect taken in for questioning.”


“What on earth can they suspect her of?”


“Oh, nothing. To be honest, I was just relieved when I found out. I mean, the child kidnappings
when the Death Eaters were active didn’t once have a happy ending and there’s no way he could
afford to harm a young girl.”


“So, why take her?”


“I imagine they just want her to tell them where Royce is.”


“But he was with them in Hogsmeade,” said Harry. “He’d just gone off for a drink.”


“They clearly didn’t bother to check.”


“Surely not,” said Hermione. “Isn’t it much more likely that they didn’t want to take him on?
They’d have needed far more than four to kidnap anyone with him present.”


Harry nodded in agreement.


“Did Hemlock know you’d sent David and Kathryn up to the school?” asked Hermione.


“No. I had no idea who they were until Hemlock told everyone at the briefing.”


“Hemlock must have known they would be impossible to capture once under the school’s protection.
Why didn’t they make an excuse to stop them?”


“I’m glad you’re on our side, Hermione,” said Kingsley. “You know I’ve grown to rely on the
stupidity of the people we target?”


“Well, we were due a break,” said Professor McGonagall. “They will be safe here for the
present.”


“Kingsley, how many are siding with the Minister on this?” Harry asked.


“Well, everyone else at the briefing seemed convinced what was happening was legal and above
board. I wouldn’t say they were exactly enthusiastic, but I don’t think we can count on them to
help. I’ve no idea where those that didn’t appear are, of course.”


“But, the Wizengamot?”


“Some of our oldest and most powerful judges didn’t turn up for work today,” continued Kingsley.
“I don’t know how many are in custody as we speak.”


“What do you propose?” asked Harry.


“Well, I thought you lot might see your way to helping me. The priority must be to free Natasha,
but I also intend to arrest anyone involved.”


“Just a moment,” said Hermione. “Whoever these people are, they have had time to prepare. To
have overcome some of the most powerful witches and wizards in the country, they must have
significant magical aides.”


“I didn’t say it would be easy,” said Kingsley with a small smile.


“Let’s go,” said Professor McGonagall.


“Um, shouldn’t you stay?” said Kingsley. “Even if we get to Natasha, we have little chance of
getting out of there ourselves.”


“Just try and stop me.”


*


“Harry?”


Harry turned around to see Neville hurrying towards them. Harry signalled for him to approach
carefully and they crouched down at the side of the corridor they were making their way along.


“Neville, what are you doing here?” asked Hermione quietly.


“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I didn’t get a chance to tell Harry where I thought the
entrance to the Fourth Floor was.”


“How did you know we’re trying to get in there?”


“Some people turned up at the school entrance where I was stationed. They had warrants for the
arrest of David Royce and Kingsley, only they couldn’t get in. They threatened to get a warrant for
Professor McGonagall too, if she didn’t let them in.


“Anyway, the enforcement people were talking about a new department being formed. I guessed
you’d be here, so I got away as quickly as I could.”


“Well, you’re right on time,” said Harry. “We were about to force our way in this way. The
others are trying to get in through the lift entrance right now. So, what way should we go?”


“Um, the way you’re headed,” said Neville. “It’s just around the corner.”


Harry snorted and stepped out into the middle of the corridor.


He raised his wand and fired a series of red stunners that bounced off two walls and flew off
around the corner.


They hurried forward and around the corner to see three unconscious guards waiting for them.


“I thought we were being cautious?” said Hermione pointedly.


“Yeah, but now Neville’s here,” said Harry with a grin.


*


The entrance was wide open and consisted of a wide sloping ramp leading down into the Fourth
Floor. They hurried down to the bottom, but stopped as soon as they saw the assembled officials,
all wearing identical new-looking black robes.


There were many running footsteps behind them and Harry didn’t need Neville to say, “The way
back’s barred.”


Harry stepped out into the large cavernous space that had been created at the bottom of the
ramp. Hermione and Neville followed until they stood together, back-to-back. They were surrounded
by over a hundred witches and wizards, all of whom were pointing their wands at them.


“Welcome, Mr Potter. We weren’t expecting you so soon. Your interview isn’t scheduled until
*next* week.”


“I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you, Minister.”


“Oh, not at all,” came the reply from somewhere behind the line of figures. “Put them in the
cells,” he added lazily.


“On what grounds?” demanded Hermione loudly as six black robed figures moved forward.


No answer came.


Harry flicked his wand and all six figures were sent sliding across the floor, colliding with
several of their colleagues.


Neville staggered slightly into his back as he felt the force of the spell and he could feel
Hermione’s hair blowing about behind him.


“We’ve come to secure the release of one of my students,” said Harry.


“That was quick,” said the Minister. “Shacklebolt didn’t waste any time, did he?”


“Yes, well kidnapped children are generally given a high priority.”


“She is merely helping us with our enquiries. With her assistance we should be able to track
down a dangerous wizard who has conducted countless acts of dark magic.”


“*Dark magic*?” scoffed Harry.


“Oh, yes. Perhaps your friendship has clouded your objectivity, but Royce performed many
unnatural acts of needless cruelty during the battle for the Ministry.”


“He did nothing more than those Death Eaters deserved, in my view. You wouldn’t be in power now
if he hadn’t, would you? Besides, I did far worse things than him that night.”


“Oh, I know you did,” said the Minister calmly as he stepped forward, showing himself for the
first time. “Well, isn’t this nice. Three prime candidates, and they were kind enough to walk right
in.”


Hemlock looked utterly at ease as he walked slowly around the three of them as they stood in the
centre, surrounded by his enforcers.


“Longbottom,” said Hemlock, his voice now dripping with hatred. “Have you any idea how much
resentment your employment here has caused? Hardly a day goes by without old family friends pop by
to exert the influence only old money can buy. Well, there’s a new order now.”


He paused next to Hermione.


“Granger: The champion of half-breeds that freed the slaves. A fine if futile effort, overall.
Unfortunately, all those laws will be all too easy to repeal now. They will soon forget they even
tasted freedom.”


Harry turned to face Hemlock as he stepped around them.


“*Potter*. The Chosen One who broke down. You only become an Auror because a weak minded
excuse for an Acting Minister felt sorry for you. At least I won’t have to put up with you
strutting around here like you own the place. Perhaps you’ll come to regret hijacking so many of my
news conferences.


“What am I saying?” he added with a mirthless chuckle. “Potter has never actually done a day’s
Auror work, has he? I expect he’s forgotten how to make an arrest.”


“Oh, I think I can just about manage, thanks,” said Harry.


“The failed Auror who thinks he can teach,” continued Hemlock. “Well, your students will soon be
learning a new self respect. They are our future, after all. It’s only right that they
understand.”


“Is this going to last long?” asked Harry, sounding bored. “How about you fast forward to the
part where you admit what this is really all about? This anti wandless magic has nothing to do with
it, does it?”


Hemlock smiled at him.


“True, it has been a means to an end,” he said quietly, so only Harry, Hermione and Neville
could hear him. “All I need is Royce, and I can release the good news. People will be clamouring to
thank me for saving them from such a dangerous individual.”


“Well, I don’t rate much of your chances once he finds out you kidnapped his niece,” agreed
Harry, not troubling to lower his voice. “Tell you what, if you come quietly I’ll take you into
protective custody. That’s a one-time offer.”


“You’re in no position to make offers, Potter.”


“Hemlock, you haven’t the brains to have done this all by yourself,” said Harry. “You’re a
showman; never in public without a photographer or reporter to capture the managed event. Who are
you taking orders from?”


“Orders? No, I don’t take orders from anyone. I do enjoy the support of many people, though.
People that you almost ruined with your reforms and purges against the Dark Lord’s followers.”


“Only *almost* ruined?” said Harry in a mocking tone. “I’ll look forward to the job being
finished this time.”


“Seize them!” shouted Hemlock, stepping back sharply.




13. I’m Not Supposed To Know, Actually
--------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 13 - I’m Not Supposed To Know, Actually**


Harry, Hermione and Neville all started blocking hexes and firing back the moment the Enforcers
charged forward, all wildly firing spells.


Harry’s first target was Hemlock but he had dived for cover and escaped his view in all the
confusion.


It was perhaps ironic that the one thing Harry had continually drummed into his friends for
these situations was something he himself found almost impossible to do himself.


“*Whatever happens, you must fight back-to-back. That way everyone is protecting each other,
so at all times make sure you are aware of where everyone is*,” he had said. “*Don’t worry
about protecting your own back*.”


He’d lost count of the times he’d said this in various forms, but it betrayed his one great
fear: Harry had no fear for himself but in the months leading to the final battle he had become
inwardly terrified that his friends would be hurt. It seemed at the time that he could bear almost
anything else.


Harry was about to shout a reminder for the other two to watch their position when he realised
he was now several feet away from their starting point. As usual, he had jumped around to achieve
the most advantageous firing position without even thinking about his own advice.


Hermione and Neville, though, were right there protecting his back. They had moved with him and
had even kept pace as he circled around to give those headed for the ramp a little incentive.


Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Harry twisted around and fired right between
Neville and Hermione to blast an attacker off his feet.


“Harry!” cried Hermione in annoyance. “This is *our* side. Get back to your own
targets.”


Harry grinned but didn’t have time for a smart response as a heavy levitated table flew towards
them.


“*Reducto*!”


The table exploded into dust and Harry immediately levitated the heavy metal chair next to the
wizard who had caused the table to be thrown at them.


“Not very sporting,” commented Neville.


Harry wasn’t sure if Neville was referring to the table or what he was about to do with the
chair. Deciding that Neville was probably right if he meant the chair, Harry dropped it and
reverted back to stunning spells.


It soon became clear that their sheer number was their attackers’ biggest disadvantage. Hardly
any of them had clear shots whereas the three of them could shoot without risk of accidentally
hitting each other.


Hermione was firing quickly but still taking careful aim at each target, something that for some
reason had always irritated Harry. He knew she was capable of much more powerful defensive spells
but always insisted that her opponents had a fighting chance.


Neville’s aim had been much improved lately and he managed to keep the attackers back.


Harry hadn’t made much of an impression on Neville’s preferred duelling style either. He would
stand there, plugging away until either his opponents were incapacitated or he was. Thanks to his
much improved aim, Neville won far more duels than he lost these days.


Harry had become Neville’s most frequent practise partner when it became clear he wasn’t
prepared to fire at Ginny in case he accidentally hurt her. It had been some time since they last
practised, but Harry was pleased to see Neville had lost none of his determination.


Harry, though, was eager to end this fight.


He took down great swathes of robed enforcers with each slash of his wand. This seemed to be the
deciding factor amongst those attackers that abandoned the fight and ran for the ramp.


Even so, it took a surprisingly short amount of time for just the three of them to disarm the
remaining three dozen or so enforcers who remained to fight. Hemlock managed to be amongst those to
get away.


“I don’t understand it,” said Neville. “They’re even worse at fighting than me.”


Harry knew this was an exaggeration. Neville was pretty good at duelling these days, but there
was no denying how poor their opposition had been.


“That’s the problem when you only recruit from zealots,” observed Hermione as she finishing
binding one of the Enforcers.


“Yes,” agreed Harry. “I bet they didn’t have anyone to help train them either. They had to rely
on overwhelming numbers and scare tactics.”


“No, they must have something more,” said Hermione.


“Come on, let’s find Natasha,” ordered Harry, not really listening to her.


Harry kicked upon a pair of doors at the far end of the open area and charged through ahead of
the others.


The moment he crossed the invisible jinx line he knew something was wrong. A deep chill went
right through him and a wave of nausea hit him.


“Stop!” yelled Harry in warning to the others as he collapsed to his knees. “Don’t come past the
threshold!”


“What is it?”


“You were right, Hermione,” he said, panting. “I felt the hex kick in as I came through.”


Assuming the worst, Harry pointed his wand at a wall poster and tried to fire a stunner at
it.


“Argh!” he cried out as a sharp pain shot up his arm. “I thought so. Can’t do magic now. Blast!
It had to be now!”


“Come back, Harry. Please.”


“No,” gasped Harry, pushing himself up. His eyes watering with the pain. “Damage done now. I’ll
try and find Natasha. See if you can anyone else, but be careful.”


He turned and staggered down the corridor, bumping off the walls in his haste. He flew through
another doorway and slammed into a glass partition. Harry’s vision seemed to be dimming and he
could see random flashes of light before his eyes.


Then he began to take in the scene before him.


The brightly-lit room on the other side of the partition held three people. Two white coated men
were standing before Natasha who was bound to a heavy wooden chair with heavy leather straps.


She was shouting and crying but Harry couldn’t hear a thing.


One of the men held a clipboard and appeared to be mouthing questions to her. Natasha swore back
at them as she struggled to release herself from the bindings.


The one with the clipboard merely made a mark and then nodded impassively to the other. Harry
didn’t see what he did but Natasha screamed and seemed to go rigid with pain. The straps holding
her prevented her moving as she convulsed.


Harry hammered on the glass and looked around for something to throw. He assumed the glass was
both one-way and sound-proof since neither of the men inside reacted at all. They just waited
patiently for Natasha to finish screaming.


Knowing he wouldn’t be able to use magic, Harry desperately ran to find another way in. He
followed the corridor and turned left and then left again. Finally, there was a door.


Harry grabbed the handle and thrust the door open. Charging through, he came skidding to a halt
as two dull thuds reached his ears.


He walked over to the chair. Natasha’s eyes were blazing with anger.


“It’s over, Natasha,” Harry attempted to say as gently as possible, his heart still pounding in
his chest. “Let them down.”


It was a moment before Natasha’s eyes flickered and the bloody remains of her captors fell
heavily to the floor.


Harry unwrapped the cords that held her wrists and unbuckled the leg straps with shaking hands
before walking over to inspect the bodies.


All he could feel was anger that they had escaped punishment for what they had done.


The one with the clipboard was still breathing, although it didn’t look like he would live for
long. The other one was dead, and half of his remains were still buried in the masonry.


Harry turned and asked, “Can you walk?”


Natasha tried to get up but collapsed. Harry caught her just before she hit the hard floor. He
scooped her up in his arms and headed for the door.


*


When Harry crossed the hexed doorway again, Hermione and Harry had been joined by Kingsley and
Professor McGonagall. Together they were helping to free others from the cells and which seemed to
include a significant number of Wizengamot members.


McGonagall rushed over to them and Natasha burst into tears.


“Take her back to school, Minerva,” said Kingsley. “We’ll clear up here. I’ll be along
later.”


A moment later, or so it seemed, they were gone.


Kingsley marched over to Harry.


“You idiot,” he said at once. “What have I always told you about watching out for hidden
hexes?”


Harry nodded. It was true; in his haste to find Natasha he’d forgotten all of his Auror
training.


“There are a couple of bodies back there. Well, one is dead and the other won’t last long.”


“Show me,” said Kingsley seriously, turning for the door.


“Wait!”


“Unlike you, Harry, I took the precaution of getting Minerva to take down all the hexes.”


“Oh, right,” said Harry, following him. Hermione hurried to join them.


“You okay, Harry?”


Harry nodded although his wrists now ached from his hammering so hard on the glass
partition.


“No-one else seems to have been hurt,” she continued. “There were anti-Apparition wards around
the cells but it seems they didn’t have time to interrogate them.”


Kingsley pushed open the doors in front of the glass partition and surveyed the scene.


“What happened?” asked Hermione, seeing the blood on the far wall. “Oh, my!” she breathed,
seeing the chair.


Kingsley turned, frowning slightly.


“Well, it looks like we’ll never really know what happened,” said Kingsley.


“Why?”


“Hermione,” explained Harry. “That’s Auror-speak for *Shut up and you might just stay out of
prison*.”


“Don’t be ridiculous. We can’t cover this up. I’m not for a moment suggesting you had any
choice, Harry, but it would be wrong just to sweep it under the carpet.”


Kingsley coughed softly.


“Harry didn’t do this,” he said gently.


“He? You didn’t?”


“She resisted for as long as she could,” said Harry, still looking at the chair. “I think they
were trying to provoke her, only they had no idea how advanced her skills were. How could they
have? If I’d been quicker, she wouldn’t have needed to do it.”


“What were they using?” asked Kingsley with clinical detachment.


“I couldn’t hear the incantation, but from her reaction it looked like the Cruciatus Curse.”


“Poor kid. So, what do you think happened here, Hermione?”


“We may never know, Kingsley,” said Hermione shakily.


*


“*Your attention please*,” said Professor McGonagall’s magically amplified voice throughout
the castle. “*I am delighted to inform you that Natasha Royce has been rescued and is now
recovering in the Hospital Wing*.”


Professor McGonagall paused as loud cheers rang out.


*“Natasha has been through a terrible ordeal but will make a full recovery under Madam
Pomfrey’s care. Natasha will inform us when she is ready to receive visitors but I’m sure any
goodwill messages you wish to send her in the meantime will aide her recovery*.


“*Finally, I would take this opportunity of advising any interested party present in the
castle that Professor Potter will be reading the first of the three required notices of eviction in
the entrance hall this evening. Any ghost or spirit without the appropriate haunting licence should
attend so that any unpleasantness they feel during the eviction won’t be, um, unexpected*.


“*Thank you for your attention*.”


Professor McGonagall tapped the silver instrument with her wand and allowed herself to relax
back into her chair.


“You can’t call him *Professor* now, Minerva,” said Phineas Nigellus slyly. “He can’t do
magic. What’s the use of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who can’t so much as stun-”


“A portrait?” suggested Harry, pointing his wand directly at the painting. Phineas vanished
behind his frame at once, clearly not wishing to take the chance that Harry might be able to
produce some magic.


“There must be something we can do,” complained Hermione. “Harry, are you really sure you can’t
do anything? Natasha wasn’t affected like this, was she?”


“No, but I’m running on empty, I’m afraid. Still, at least I’ll be in good company for the
evening classes.”


“Harry, why aren’t you angry about this?”


“I suppose,” began Harry, but stopped when the office door opened and Julia came in.


“We’ve had an idea,” she announced. “It’s kill or cure, actually.”


Harry knew full well that if he had been hit with the same thing Ron and the others, then there
was little chance of a speedy recovery of his magical powers. Still, he reasoned, he ought to show
a little willing.


“Well, I quite like the sound of the cure part,” said Harry with a smile. “What does this idea
involve?”


“I can’t tell you. Harry, please report to the Great Hall at eight o’clock; but not a minute
before.”


“Can I do my eviction notice first? I was looking forward to that.”


“Oh, alright. Do that at *eight*, and then come alone into the hall. *Alone*.”


“Why do we have to wait that long?” asked Hermione.


“This is Moody’s idea and he wanted Lupin to oversee the, um, project. Professor? We could use
your help too; only if you do agree you won’t be able to contact Harry until it is over.”


“Is that okay with you, Harry?” McGonagall asked.


“Um, sure.”


“Good. I suggest you and Hermione retire to your apartment until this evening.”


*


Harry stood in the middle of the deserted entrance lobby and cleared his throat. He felt a
little silly, but Muldoon had said it was worth trying.


“Further to the International Accord on Spirit and Ghost Hauntings 1605, as amended 1895, I
hereby give the required Notice of Eviction in accordance with Paragraph 3(b).”


Harry looked around before continuing.


“Harry?”


“Oh. Hi, Nick,” said Harry. He was at that point feeling very self-conscious and was very glad
of the opportunity to stop.


“May I ask what you are doing?”


“Well, I suspect we’ve got an unlicensed ghost in the castle.”


“Peeves?”


“No, as a poltergeist he falls outside the Accord, apparently. Is anything the matter, Nick? You
look a little worried.”


“Well, to be honest, I’m a little concerned about the prospect of an eviction.”


“There’s really no need to be worried, Nick. I’m assured that any ghost authorised to reside at
Hogwarts will be entirely unaffected.”


“Oh, good.”


Harry smiled at him.


“Um, perhaps I should carry on? Where was I?” muttered Harry, trying to find his place again.
“Ah, here we are. In accordance with-”


“Harry?”


“Yes, Nick?”


“What if, hypothetically speaking, a resident ghost *didn’t* have a Ministry licence?”


“Well, I can’t say how it would feel, but it does sound rather unpleasant. I’m assured the
disfigurement and pain goes away quite quickly though. It’s good that you are concerned on behalf
of our unknown tenant, Nick, but don’t feel too sorry for them.”


“Concerned on their behalf,” repeated Nick absently. “Yes, Harry, of course. Um, what if the
ghost were to be found before the eviction?”


“Oh, there’d be no need to go through with it. I’ve no problem with a new ghost in the castle
provided Professor McGonagall and the Ghosts’ Council give their approval.”


“Well, thank you, Harry. You’ve reassured me. I’ll be off now.”


“See you, Nick,” said Harry, returning to his text. “In accordance with-”


“Oh, put a sock in it, Potter. Did you really think I’d fall for such a ridiculous ruse? I’ve
known for years that the Bloody Baron never got a licence; mainly because they were too scared to
ask him.”


“Draco, so it was you. Why did you come back?”


“I didn’t want to go on, of course. The prospect of my father waiting for me was quite enough to
put me off the afterlife.”


“I meant, why come back to Hogwarts?”


“I heard you were teaching and I needed a laugh. I always said the standard of teaching was poor
around here.”


“Are you always invisible or can you be seen yet? I know it takes a while.”


“I come and go.”


“Draco, why did you tell Mark Stannard about the Arch in the Forbidden Forest?”


“So what? He kept disturbing me so I told him to get him out of the dungeons. I was rather
pleased with myself for that, Potter. After all, if he gets himself eaten in there, *you*
might get the blame.”


“Draco, do you remember what it was like in the forest?”


“I *died* in there, remember?”


“I was thinking what it felt like when we were nearer Mark’s age. You were terrified of that
forest.”


“So what? I’m past caring.”


“I’ll tell you *what*, shall I? It’s simple. Professor McGonagall won’t let you stay unless
you *are* prepared to care.”


“What? I’m supposed to start liking you, just because you lived and killed my murderous
father?”


“No, Draco. I couldn’t care less what you think of me. You’re supposed to care for the students
around here. All of the ghosts do. Even the Bloody Baron helps keep this place safe.”


“Maybe,” admitted Draco.


“Unfortunately, sending a student into the forest isn’t a good way of showing you care.”


“He’s only a Hufflepuff.”


“He’s a Hufflepuff who’s never been beaten in a duel.”


Draco snorted. “Yeah, I saw. I recon he could beat you, you know?”


“Not if the forest takes him, Draco. Can you tell me why Mark is so obsessed with the Arch?”


“Maybe he wants to push you through it. Perhaps you should start giving him better essay
marks.”


Harry rolled his eyes and looked at his watch.


“Listen Draco, I don’t have time now, but sometime soon we are going to have a very serious talk
about all this.”


“I look forward to it, although I can’t see what you’re all bothered about.”


“That arch is incredibly dangerous, Malfoy. Even you should appreciate that.”


“You mean, it actually exists?”


“Yes, it exists and yes, it is in the forest.”


“So I was right, after all!” said Draco, sounding quite delighted. “And to think you didn’t
believe me when I told you about it. Of course, that wasn’t what I told my father. I said you
reacted like it was the last piece of the puzzle that you’d been looking for.”


“He took that well, did he?”


“Um, well, murdering me wasn’t something I’d seriously considered, I admit. It seemed such an
over-reaction.”


“Your other information was useful, though,” Harry admitted. “We would never have been able to
defeat Voldemort without your help.”


“I can’t imagine how that came to be true,” replied Draco. “Hang on, was it something to do with
all that junk?”


“Something like that, yes,” agreed Harry, thinking back to the hoard of items that Draco’s Aunt
Bellatrix had hidden away. “Anyway, while you’re here please make an effort to make sure none of
the students gets into trouble.”


“Yeah, like that’s going to happen. Ever the optimist, eh?”


“I need to,” Harry began to say, but realised he had absolutely no idea what he was about to
do.


Perhaps Draco realised this because for a fleeting moment Harry caught sight of a Malfoy shaped
ghost wearing a wide sneer.


“Do you know what they’re planning in there?”


“I’m not supposed to know, actually.”


“Good. I’ll tell you then, although it is quite pathetic really. Moody’s been practising this
really complicated spell all afternoon. Unfortunately, he’s only got it right the once. Lupin’s
been putting fires out on Potter shaped manikins. They’ve gone through dozens!


“McGonagall hasn’t been much help, either. She’s been chasing that Carmen kid around all day.
She’s tried everything to get into the Hospital Wing to see her friend. She mentioned an external
attempt was next.”


Harry went over to the great doors and knocked loudly. He took a deep breath and was about to
enter when he heard shouting from outside.


“CARMEN CALIDUS! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”


“It’s okay, Professor,” came a distant reply.


“Come down here at once! Have you any idea how dangerous that is?”


“We’re fine.”


“Down, I say! NOW!”


Harry walked out into the cool evening air. At the bottom of the steps, Professor McGonagall was
looking up.


He looked up and turned. Harry’s stomach gave a jolt as he realised they were over fifty feet
up.


“Carmen, be careful,” urged a boy’s voice from high above.


Carmen was giggling, standing atop a high scaffold which had a rolled up fabric.


“Here goes,” Carmen said mischievously, and she kicked the wide roll of canvas off the edge.


Harry looked on in horror as Carmen slipped. Her feet went from under her and the back of her
head smashed into a hard wooden plank.


Carmen began to fall limply, but the scaffold had shuddered violently and two more bodies were
thrown off the scaffold.


The banner continued to unfurl as they fell.


“*Get…*”


“NO!” shouted Harry, instinctively pointing his wand up even though he had no hope of performing
magic now.


“… *Well* …”


A sharp pain shot down his arm once again, only this time Harry did not stop trying to produce
the levitation spells. There was simply no time.


“… *Soon!* …”


Red flames burst from his arm and soon his entire body was engulfed. The heat was almost
unbearable, but the thought that three lives were about to be lost was even more painful.


With every fibre of his being, Harry willed the spell to work.


Flames gently licked his face making it difficult to see the still falling figures.


A lens from his glasses cracked with a pop from the heat and Harry collapsed to his knees on the
hard stone. Perhaps he had imagined it, but he thought he’d heard three dull thuds hitting the
ground.


At last he gave in and tried to scream, but there was no air in his lungs.


The stone was oddly cool against his face as the pain inside him began to recede.


“*Harry*! *Harry*!”


Then darkness claimed him.


*


When Harry woke up he found himself in darkness. He looked up at the high ceiling and then the
dark outlines of privacy screens. He was in the Hospital Wing, he thought dully.


He looked up again, squinting slightly. Madam Pomfrey usually gave him a bed next to a window,
which meant he was probably on the other side of the ward.


Harry pulled his arms out from under the warm sheets and fumbled for his glasses.


He put them on and relaxed back into his pillow.


The ceiling light fittings and tops of the screens were now in focus but he could see little
more now than without his glasses.


Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember how he came to be in the Hospital.


He remembered saying goodbye to Hermione and coming down the stairs. He’d begun to recite the
eviction notice and then Nick came long. Malfoy had appeared, well almost, and he’d gone into the
Great Hall.


No, he corrected himself slowly. He hadn’t actually gone in.


He remembered going outside and seeing Professor McGonagall. Then he’d looked up, following her
gaze.


Harry opened his eyes with a start. Blind panic engulfed him as he threw off his sheets and
jumped out of bed. He stumbled forwards and fell through a gap in the screens.


His foot made contact with something hard and cold. A moment later the table over the end of his
bed had tipped backwards and a jug and dish flew up into the air.


The crash echoed around the Hospital Wing and the lanterns grew brighter.


Madam Pomfrey bustled from her office wearing her dressing gown and a frown.


“Potter, what are you doing?”


Harry didn’t hear a word that made sense to him. His head was filled with a loud buzz as he
desperately looked around.


“Where are they?” he demanded, sounding stricken. “Where are the bodies?”


“Bodies?”


Harry lunged forward and grabbed both her arms.


“WHERE?” he shouted angrily.


He felt an electric shock through both hands and he let go. Falling, he just caught a glimpse of
Professor McGonagall pocketing her wand and marching towards him.


“Poppy, are you alright?”


“I’m fine. I haven’t had a chance to speak to him; to explain.”


“Please, just go. I will deal with this.”


“I want to see them. Now,” said Harry.


“Yes, Harry, of course you do. Unfortunately, it is very late.”


“What does that matter?” he replied. “Where are they?”


“They are asleep in their dormitories, Harry,” she said gently. “You slowed the decent of all
three. I promise you that they are fine.”


Harry stared at her.


“You’re lying.”


“I beg your pardon?” she replied imperiously. “Potter, my tolerance can only be stretched so
far, you know.”


Harry stepped forward, anger suddenly coursing through him. *Why would she lie to him like
this*? Barely visible blue flames ignited at his arms and ran up his pyjama sleeves. The pain
fuelled his anger.


McGonagall stood there rigid with shocked wide-open eyes.


The pain seemed to cleanse him and Harry’s mind began to clear. He stepped forward again, but
suddenly felt like his whole body had just been immersed in ice cold water.


Harry staggered back in shock, the flames now gone and leaving him with burnt cotton
sleeves.


Harry swore loudly.


“*Language*, Potter,” said Draco, still quite invisible. “I’m sorry but it really isn’t in
my interests to allow you to hurt the Professor just now.”


“Draco?” said McGonagall. “So, it is true.”


“Mm. Well, Professor, it looks like you’re continuing the tradition of employing insane Defence
Against the Dark Arts teachers after all.”


“That will do, Draco. We will discuss your future here at another time. In the meantime, will
you please go and fetch Miss Granger.”


“Oh, she’ll be along in a minute, Professor. She finished her bath twenty minutes ago.”


“Draco!” shouted Harry as soon as he realised what he had said, but the ghost had gone.


“I’m clearly going to have to explain very carefully the terms of letting Draco stay,” said
McGonagall as the hospital doors swung open behind her.


Hermione rushed in as soon as she saw Harry out of bed.


“Harry! What happened? Your pyjamas are all burnt.”


“Hermione, will you please explain to Harry what happened. I’m afraid he doesn’t believe me. If
you’ll excuse me, I’ll see if Poppy is still awake. I could do with a cup of tea.”


Hermione reached up and gently touched his cheek, her face full of concern.


“She tried to tell me they weren’t dead, Hermione.”


“Oh, Harry,” she breathed, wrapping her arms up around his neck. “I’ll tell you what I can. If
you still want to see them after, then we’ll go together. Right?”


Harry nodded and held her closer.


“Moody and Lupin had been practising in the Great Hall all afternoon. From what they told me,
Moody was convinced that the key to breaking the hex was in what Natasha told them about what
happened to her.”


“They shouldn’t have disturbed her,” complained Harry.


“They didn’t. Kingsley asked to be present when Natasha explained to David and Kathryn what
happened. It wasn’t an interrogation or anything. Kathryn said Kingsley was very understanding, but
he needed to know how she did it.”


Harry nodded again.


“You knew how, though, didn’t you, Harry? She didn’t suddenly lash out. It was quite the
reverse. She’d been struggling to hold back the magic. It was only when she’d been pushed so far
that she gave in and unleashed the magical power within her.”


“I should have guessed,” said Harry in a strained voice. “David did the same thing. I’m sure he
still struggles with it sometimes. That’s why he hates crowds so much.”


“Let’s stick with Moody’s idea for now, shall we? He reasoned that Natasha must have been hexed
in the same way you were. Even if she had a wand, she would never have been able to defend herself;
yet she managed to break the spell upon her. I know she didn’t do it on purpose, but when pushed to
her limit she produced such a powerful reaction that the spell broke.”


Harry frowned.


“But I didn’t get to see Moody. He never performed anything on me.”


“Harry, you needed to be pushed to *your* limit. If you’re really honest, can you think of
anything worse than seeing three children fall to their deaths?”


Harry screwed up his eyes and shook his head.


“It worked, Harry. Somehow you produced levitation charms in time to prevent them coming to
harm. Even if you hadn’t managed it, there were four of us ready to assist and they were all
magically tied to the scaffolding.


“There were only two complications, in the event.


“One was the charms Carmen used to tie them to the scaffold. Your charm was rather too powerful
and for a while they were stuck in mid-air. Professor McGonagall and Julia got them down safely
after a few minutes.”


“They’re alive.”


“Yes, darling,” said Hermione, kissing him lightly. “The second complication was *you*. You
were practically a fireball when you collapsed. Carmen’s Get-Well-Soon banner for Natasha was burnt
to ashes.”


Harry said nothing.


“I had hoped that you’d got it out of your system, but judging from the state of you I’d say
that was a premature hope. So, what about you, Harry?”


“Me?”


“How much are you struggling to keep bottled up inside?”


“It isn’t the same, Hermione. David will tell you the same thing. Ask him, if you want.”


“I intend to.”


“Hermione, did you find any more significant dates?”


“Harry, can’t we deal with one thing at a time? Mark is being constantly watched. He’s safe for
tonight.”


“No, that isn’t it. You see, the Arch is calling *me*. The flames are a sign, I think.”


Hermione let him go and looked at him seriously.


“Look,” said Harry. “How about we go back to our rooms to talk about this?”


-


*AN: Sorry, but unfortunately there will be a short delay before the next post as I’m going
away for the weekend. Realistically, I’ll probably post Chapter 14, “The Spell Part Is A Lie,
Harry,” on Monday.*




14. The Spell Part Is A Lie, Harry
----------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 14 - The Spell Part Is A Lie, Harry**


Harry opened his eyes. He guessed it was late morning but realised that he wasn’t entirely sure
what day it was.


He stretched a little, wondering if he could untangle himself from Hermione without waking
her.


“I thought you wanted to talk, Harry.”


Harry snorted and Hermione pulled herself up, somehow wrapping herself even tighter around
him.


“At least you seem a little less tense this morning,” she observed, kissing him. “So, you going
to tell me the truth about this Arch?”


“I shouldn’t have said anything,” said Harry. “I was wrong to scare you like that.”


Hermione groaned.


“Harry, I want to *help* you. Why are you keeping this from me?”


“Because, I’m scared,” he admitted, his own honesty shocking him a little. “I’m afraid that the
spell will be broken.”


“Spell? What spell?”


“I meant *spell* in the Muggle sense,” said Harry, stroking her back. “When I think about
it, my life now is the best it’s ever been. You – Hogwarts – Teaching. Nothing could be better, and
I don’t deserve any of it.”


“The spell part is a *lie*, Harry.”


Harry decided to ignore this accusation for the moment.


“Dumbledore convinced me that I wasn’t bound by the Prophecy; that only Voldemort was. I was
free to decide whether or not to face him. Of course, in the end the Prophecy did *appear* to
come true.”


Hermione tensed slightly as she listened. Harry was sure she was fighting not to argue with
him.


“Voldemort defied the laws of nature to cling onto life. Well, cling onto something that wasn’t
*death*, anyway. I suppose it was really *nature* that defeated him, in the end. The
balance of life had to be restored, and he paid for what he did.”


“What are you saying, Harry?”


“When I walked away, after it was over, I knew that really I shouldn’t have survived. It wasn’t
luck that helped me, it was love. It protected me all my growing life and it protected me then,
when I wanted to return so badly.


“The thing is, by coming back I think I broke the laws of nature, just like Vol-”


“Don’t say that Harry!” said Hermione angrily, pushing herself up. “You’re nothing like
Voldemort! Nothing!”


“All I’m saying is,” said Harry gently. “The books always needed to be balanced one day. Death
will come to me, no matter what.”


Hermione wiped her face and lay back down against him.


“I’m not giving you up, not yet anyway. Death can just stay away until I’ve had you a few
decades longer.”


Harry smiled sadly, but didn’t argue.


He had been going to tell her about the burning effect, but he didn’t think she could cope just
then.


Harry was sure she would be wondering if his flaming had any relation to the burning of a
Phoenix. He had tried to describe to her so often the feeling of strength he had whenever he had
heard Fawkes’ singing.


It could wait, he decided.


“Right,” said Hermione, her voice sounding stronger. “Just for upsetting me, I’m going to tell
you why you should have *known* Carmen couldn’t have been killed last night.”


“Um, how?”


“Harry, we met her older self, *remember*? How could she have died and still come back to
say Hi as a grown woman? That’s without considering all the Prophecies made about her.”


“But, maybe that wasn’t *our* Carmen after all!” he replied, laughing. In truth, he’d never
fully associated the beautiful time travelling witch as being the Carmen they knew.


“Um, Hermione, would you do me a small favour?”


“Anything, Harry.”


“Do you think you could bathe with your clothes on, from now on?”


*


Harry walked down to the lake where a small group of students had gathered to greet Valiente. A
few yards away, three large circular targets on easels had been put up and dozens of spent arrows
were sticking in the ground at odd angles.


So far, it looked like only Valiente had actually managed to hit any of the targets at all.


Sitting off behind them, giggling at the antics of the others as Valiente vainly attempted to
show them what to do, was Natasha. This was her first full day back and tonight there would be a
feast to celebrate her safe return.


Harry was pleased to hear Valiente insist that the students stay behind a rope line while people
were shooting arrows. Although Valiente was rather quiet and always polite, especially compared to
Carmen, Harry felt he was rapidly gaining the respect of the others.


“Hi,” said Harry as he drew level with Natasha. “Mind if I join you for a moment?”


“Sure,” replied Natasha as a wild shot from Carmen almost got to the centre of the lake.


“Hermione said you’d be out here. She’s got another meeting with Professor McGonagall.”


“She’s spending quite a lot of time here, isn’t she, Sir?”


“I’m not complaining,” said Harry with a smile. “Actually, I think most of her case files relate
to Hogwarts these days. They’re confidential, of course,” he added quickly. “I’ve no idea what her
cases are or who they relate to.”


“Well, it’s no secret that I’m in her files now,” said Natasha miserably. “Mr Shacklebolt said
the Wizengamot agreed not to pursue anything against me provided I agreed to Hermione monitoring
what I get up to in school.”


“You’ll be fine,” Harry assured her. “They only want what’s best for you. Believe me, this kind
of trauma can come back and affect you *years* from when it happened. You’re a *victim*
in all this, not a potential criminal.”


“I suppose.”


“From what it said in the papers, the Wizengamot is finally exerting itself. Hemlock has been
removed from office. They’ll arrest him if they can find him. I wish I could say I was confident
this kind of thing won’t happen again. There were an awful lot of discarded robes that no-one is
owning up to wearing and very few of his followers are in custody.”


“Won’t there be records?”


“Well, just between us,” Harry said conspiratorially, “Professor McGonagall and Kingsley took a
shortcut trying to get to you before we did. They blasted their way through what now appears to be
the record store. They did a proper job, too. There’s no chance of repairing the parchment
either.”


Carmen shrieked with laughter as her latest effort got no further than ten feet from her.
Valiente gently appealed for her to concentrate on shooting her next arrow.


“Will you get your classrooms now?” asked Natasha.


“Nope. The Ministry says they haven’t got any cash left for Further Education. Hemlock blew the
lot on remodelling the Fourth Floor and some stylish black robes.”


They sat quietly for a moment while Carmen tried to apologise to the Giant Squid for almost
hitting it with another arrow.


“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” said Natasha, turning to him. “Uncle David always said how
dangerous it was to tell *anyone*.”


“I understand.”


“I was absolutely dreading what Kathryn would say. It turns out she’s married into an entire
family of dangerous-”


Natasha paused trying to think of a bad enough description, but Harry finished her sentence for
her.


“*Friends*, as far as I’m concerned. Kathryn was simply devastated when you were taken and
I can’t see her divorcing David because of anything you might be or do.”


Natasha breathed deeply and nodded, her cheeks a little pink.


“Uncle David did always say I could trust *you*, though. I suppose I didn’t want to take
the risk.”


“Sure. But now that I do know, we ought to discuss how you’re going to develop your skills. If
you want to, that is.”


“You’ll teach me?”


“If it’s what you want. I can only show you so much, and we’ll need to find a specialist at some
point. Actually, the only person I know who comes close to the level you’ll eventually need is
David; but there may be others.”


Harry smiled and added, “Carmen won’t let you take more advanced classes than her, of course. We
probably shouldn’t tell David that just yet, though.”


“But, what will Hermione say? Surely she’ll stop you in case I hurt someone again.”


“Professor McGonagall has the last word about what does and does not get taught around here,
Natasha. Personally, I think you need to learn to exert as much self control as you can. I know how
much self-control you’ve already got, but there may be times when it isn’t appropriate to just let
go.”


Natasha shook her head slowly, clearly remembering what had happened.


“I think you should talk the whole thing over with David and Professor McGonagall before
deciding anything.”


“I will. Thanks, Professor.”


“So, where are Kathryn and David? I expected to you be with them.”


“Uncle David went to the Ministry for something and Kathryn wanted to go with him. They promised
to be back tonight for the feast, though.”


A small First Year ran past them and came to a halt just behind the group of archers. He seemed
to be looking for someone. Carmen stepped towards him and asked what he wanted and Harry was a
little relieved to see that she wasn’t armed this time.


“Mark, you’ve a message!” she yelled.


An embarrassed looking Mark came forward and took the small note. He read it as the First Year
ran off back towards the greenhouses. Carmen read the note over his shoulder, and Harry hoped it
wasn’t anything too private.


Mark grabbed his bag and headed straight for the castle, away from where Natasha and Harry were.
He hadn’t said anything to the others at all.


Carmen grabbed her own bag and ran after him.


“Got to go! Bye!” she shouted to the group.


Harry only caught part of what Mark said once Carmen caught him up.


“The note only said for me to go. Not you.”


Carmen wasn’t to be put off that easily, of course, and followed him all the way up to the
castle entrance.


“She’s quite determined to bring him out of his shell,” observed Natasha. “I think she quite
likes him.”


Harry raised his eyebrows, wondering if the terrors of Carmen’s attentions would be enough to
distract Mark from the Arch. He had decided that the time had finally come for him to have a talk
with Mark.


If Professor McGonagall agreed, he had decided to do it tomorrow. He had already tentatively
discussed it with her but had promised to speak to her again once he had decided exactly what he
was going to say.


Harry had pondered for a long time whether he should actually take Mark into the forest and show
him the Arch.


He had decided against this, however. Apart from complications the Centaurs might present, there
was still the question of the intruder resident in the forest. Although these were factors, the
main reason was the Arch itself.


Harry wasn’t at all sure that he could dissuade Mark from returning there again. He felt the
constant tug of the Arch even now.


He closed his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to rid himself of the memories.


*


Harry and Hermione crossed the entrance hall a couple of hours before the feast was due to
begin. They had decided to look in on the Great Hall decorations before going to the Staff Room.
Professor McGonagall had invited several guests to the feast and they would be served sherry there
before going down to the Hall.


“It’s beautiful!” said Hermione. “Julia’s really gone to town. Goodness knows what her Christmas
decorations will be like.”


“Well, hopefully with less of a Ravenclaw theme, anyway,” observed Harry, closing the door.
“Evening, Draco.”


“How did you know I was here?” the ghost responded indignantly.


“Your sneer is visible again.”


“I understand from Professor McGonagall that you’re on probation, Draco,” said Hermione, who
still had no idea why Harry wanted her to bathe with her clothes on because Harry couldn’t bring
himself to tell her any specifics.


“Well, yes. She seemed less enthusiastic about letting me stay than I’d hoped, actually.”


“*No*?” said Harry sarcastically.


“But you’ve got a month or two to show her what an asset you could be to the school,” added
Hermione.


“So I’m supposed to be a good chap and keep an eye out for all these ghastly kids?” sneered
Draco.


“Only if you want to stay, Draco.”


They walked on towards the main stairs.


“Oh, alright!” said Draco, sounding thoroughly annoyed with himself. “There’s one of the brats
in the broom cupboard over there. Make sure McGonagall knows I *helped*.”


Harry dashed over and pulled open the door. A small figure was curled up on the floor under a
thick blanket. Harry leaned over and tried to shake her awake but she didn’t stir.


He thought it strange that whoever had done this to her had provided a pillow and blanket for
her comfort.


“*Ennervate*!”


Carmen’s eyes flickered open in confusion.


“What happened, Carmen?”


“Mark?”


“What about him?” asked Harry, helping her up. “Tell us what happened.”


Carmen frowned slightly and it was a moment before she could tell them anything.


“We’d just come back downstairs after Mark had gone in to see Professor McGonagall. He had only
been in her office ten minutes. We were going back to find the others and do some more
archery.”


“How did he seem when he came out, Carmen?” asked Hermione.


“He was really quiet. Even quieter than usual, like he was worried about something. I was
worried in case I’d got him into trouble or something, but he wouldn’t say. When we came past here,
he said he thought he heard a noise inside this cupboard. He opened the door and that’s the last
thing I remember.”


“Alright, are you okay to walk?” asked Harry. Carmen nodded and she seemed to be unhurt. “I want
you to go straight to the Hospital Wing. Tell Madam Pomfrey exactly what happened and ask her to
inform Professor McGonagall.”


“I’m fine,” said Carmen, wobbling slightly. “I can go straight to her office.”


“Winky?” called Harry loudly.


There was a loud *Crack*! and Winky appeared beside them.


“Harry Potter should know Winky is very busy preparing for the feast!” said the elf in her high
pitched voice. “He had better have a good reason to call her.”


“I’m sorry, Winky. Carmen has been hurt. Please take her to the Hospital Wing now. We’ll join
you as soon as we can.”


“Where shall Winky say Harry Potter will be?”


“We’re going to look for Mark Stannard. I think he’ll be in the forest, but please tell
Professor McGonagall to wait and not to follow us. One of us will send her a message later.”


*


Harry and Hermione hurried across the grounds towards the edge of the forest. Harry didn’t speak
until they had entered.


“You were at the meeting too, weren’t you, Hermione?”


“Yes, of course I was.”


“So, Mark *is* one of your cases. How long has Professor McGonagall known?”


“I only told her today. In fact, today was the first time I told anyone of my interest,
including Mark.”


“Well, I take it the interview went badly?”


“I thought it went well, at the time. We must have scared him, though. I just wanted him to know
we were there to support him.”


“I can imagine,” said Harry darkly.


“What’s that supposed to mean?” demanded Hermione.


“Look at it from *his* perspective, Hermione. For three years Mark has done everything he
can not to draw attention to himself. He’s made sure not to have any friends or confidants and even
worked hard to get nothing but average test results.


“Why? Because he has a *secret*, Hermione.


“So, today he turns up and he’s suddenly told that it isn’t just *his* secret any more. I
bet you even said it didn’t matter; that he shouldn’t be ashamed.”


“How do you know that?”


“Hermione, I’m not blaming you. You’re right, but Mark is *obsessed* with that Death Arch.
He can only have been planning to do one thing. Now, Mark probably thinks he’ll be kicked out of
here once you find out his interest. I hope you didn’t actually mention the Arch to him?”


“No, Professor McGonagall said not to.”


“Good.”


“Harry, where is the Arch?”


“It’s quite deep into the forest. I can only vaguely remember where, actually.”


They didn’t speak for a few minutes as they hurried deeper into the forest.


“I should have confided in you, Harry,” said Hermione at last, panting slightly.


“No, I don’t agree. There must be many children who are close relatives of Death Eaters here.
They’ve a right not to be burdened by the crimes of others. You can’t help who your family is,
after all. No, on balance I’d rather not know.”


“How on earth did you know that Mark’s parents were Voldemort supporters?” she asked
incredulously.


“I didn’t. So, why did you want to speak to him *today*?”


“David found something out. I’d asked him to investigate a number of names from my files. He
came up with something quite unexpected concerning young Mark.”


“You told Mark whatever it was you found?”


“Um, yes,” Hermione said quietly, clearly regretting her decision. “He seemed fine, though. He
just said he was in a hurry to get back to the archery.”


“There!” shouted Harry, running over to a fallen tree. “I remember this tree! It’s fairly close
now. Only a few minutes more.”


“Oh, good,” said Hermione, clutching a stitch in her side. “Which way now?”


Harry looked in all directions and then swore.


“I’ve no idea! I remember staggering to this tree. I stopped here a moment until I heard the
sound of fighting. Then I ran back to the clearing where you were. That was over in that
direction,” he said pointing. “I just can’t remember how I approached the tree.”


“Do you think Mark left any tracks we could follow?”


“He may not have come this way at all.”


“Oh, right. There might be a more direct route, I suppose.”


Harry looked in all directions but nothing looked familiar. He had no clue what direction they
should head in next.


“*Damn*!” shouted Harry in frustration, kicking the dead tree and hearing his shout echo
slightly between the trees.


Then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled around and shouted,
“*Dive*!”


Harry’s stunner just missed Hermione as she went sprawling on the leaf covered ground.


“Harry! Is it Mark?”


“I don’t think so,” said Harry, pulling her up. “Come on, let’s go and see.”


They pushed their way through a patch of young ferns to find a body laying face down. Harry
kicked him over and then quickly grabbed the wand still clutched loosely in his victim’s hand.


Then Harry looked at his prisoner. He was incredibly thin and he was wearing more rags than
clothes. His boots were odd styles but the laces were tied up as if by someone who couldn’t tie a
knot or work out which order the lace holes should be used in. Filthy black matted hair partially
obscured his face but Harry realised at once that this was a mere boy.


An odd chill ran over him as Harry began to recognise him.


“Good grief,” said Harry. “I knew we were being followed, but I never imagined I’d ever see this
face again.”


Harry looked over to Hermione. She too was gazing in wonder down at the young face before them.
Harry knew she had never seen him like this, but assumed that this was the individual she had
consulted Professor McGonagall about.


“Goodness,” she said blankly. “I suppose Winestock’s file must have been true. I never really
believed it.”


-


*AN: I hope his identity isn’t too obvious.*


*Oh, yes. In this chapter Hermione reminded Harry of something (non HBP compliant) that he
should have remembered from their Sixth Year described* in “
The Pauper’s Time.”



15. Hm, That Stupid Hat Was Probably Right Then
-----------------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


**Chapter 15 - Hm, That Stupid Hat Was Probably Right Then**


“I take it he’s another case of yours?” asked Harry, his voice uncharacteristically cold.


“Y- Yes. Harry, what are you going to do? Will you arrest him, or?”


“*Kill him*? I might unless he tells us where Mark is.”


“Harry, *please*.”


“Listen, we don’t have time to argue. For all we know, Mark may be stepping through that Arch as
we speak.”


“I can’t allow you to kill in cold blood, Harry.”


“Let me do my job, Hermione.”


“You’re an Auror, not an executioner.”


“We can debate this later. Right now, I’m just a *teacher* who needs to find a missing
student. Just remember who this is, okay? He may look different but we both know what he’s been
capable of.”


“Well, yes,” Hermione agreed. “You’re not surprised to see him like this?”


“I’m surprised he managed to stay alive; but no, I knew his appearance like this was a
possibility.”


“Dumbledore told you?”


“It was in his scrolls. Hermione, we really need to find out if he knows anything about Mark.
Just be careful, okay?”


“If he’s the one hiding out here then you thought he couldn’t do magic.”


“We can’t be sure, Hermione.”


“Okay,” she replied in a small voice.


“*Ennervate*!”


The youth’s black eyes snapped open at once.


“You get one chance,” said Harry, pointing his wand down at the boy’s heart. “Show me where the
kid is.”


“Why should I, Potter? We both know you’re going to kill me anyway.”


“Maybe,” agreed Harry. “But if he dies I’ll make sure that you suffer first. I’ll parade you
through Hogsmeade if I have to. Once word gets out that you’re alive, you’ll find hiding much more
difficult.”


“A pitiful and empty threat, Potter.”


“Come on, get to your feet,” said Harry, offering his hand out. “You can think up some decent
insults while we go. When did he pass by?”


“About an hour ago,” replied the youth. “Granger, do please point your wand somewhere else.”


Hermione lowered her wand wearing a look of confusion as the three of them set off again.


“You don’t seem surprised to see me, Potter.”


“I’m not. I knew you’d come back one day; if you lived.”


“Quite. What are you staring at me for, Granger?”


“It’s really you?”


“Evidently. Unfortunately Dumbledore decided to have one last laugh at my expense, as you can
see.”


Harry shoved him roughly on the shoulder making him stumble. He was surprisingly light and he
fell much harder than Harry had intended.


“Dumbledore was the only friend you ever had here. He gave you his protection and his
trust.”


“If I had my wand,” threatened the youth.


“I’ll return it when we’ve got Mark,” promised Harry. “Which way now?”


The youth glared maliciously at Harry for a moment, but then wordlessly turned and headed off in
a new direction. They followed.


Hermione looked nervously between Harry and the boy, apparently unsure which one she needed to
keep an eye on.


As they walked, Harry observed the boy. He seemed to trip up his own feet every few paces and
constantly stared down at a point on the ground a few feet ahead.


Harry knew that he was keenly aware of his surroundings but like Mark seemed very uncomfortable
being the centre of attention.


The boy tugged at the remnants of his cloak but succeeded only in pulling it off his other
shoulder. It took several surreptitious corrections before he was satisfied enough to leave it
alone but all the while he looked ahead.


“Have you been staying here in the forest for long?” asked Hermione.


“A few weeks.”


“The Centaurs have been looking for you. You did well to evade them,” she added kindly.


The boy’s shoulders seemed to sag a little.


Harry knew that if he was indeed the subject of one of Hermione’s files, then she presumably had
reason to try and engage him in conversation.


For himself, Harry thought it would be best to keep quiet.


“Where were you before you came here?” Hermione asked interestedly.


“Abroad.”


“Oh. What country?”


Harry saw the boy hesitate before answering.


“Just abroad.”


“Well, I expect you had to move around quite a bit. That can’t have been easy.”


The boy shrugged, stumbled again and then froze as the sound of a distant crack reached
them.


“It’s probably just a falling branch,” Harry said, although he couldn’t be sure. He thought it
was quite possible that the Centaurs were tracking them, but he didn’t want the boy to stop guiding
them to the arch and Mark.


The boy moved off again, a little more quickly.


Harry exchanged a silent look with Hermione that told him she had seen it too. The boy was
scared and he didn’t want to show it.


They hurried to close the gap again.


“Um, how long have you seen like this?”


“I’m not sure,” replied the boy in a small voice. “Probably only weeks, but it seems much
longer. I’ve lost track since it happened.”


“I see,” said Hermione. “Um, well it is fortunate we found you.”


The boy turned and glowered at Harry.


“How far to the arch?” asked Harry firmly. “We should have got close by now.”


“Maybe I’m not taking you there,” replied the boy spitefully. “Maybe I’m taking you the long way
round. If I’m lucky, you’ll be just in time to watch him go in.”


“Is that what you want?” demanded Harry, his anger rising now.


Hermione stepped between them.


“No! We’re here to find Mark,” she reasoned.


“Which way?”


“I don’t remember, Potter.”


“Well, there’s not much point in keeping you around, is there?” said Harry, raising his
wand.


“No!” cried Hermione with real fear in her voice now. Then she turned to look down at the
boy.


“Please. We need your help.”


“I don’t remember,” he replied, although Harry noted the difference in his tone.


Harry stepped past the two of them and walked on a few paces. Nothing about the forest was
familiar, but he had a feeling the arch was somewhere close.


“Let’s try this way,” he said, walking ahead and not looking back.


Harry moved quickly, ignoring the conversation Hermione was now having with the boy. It seemed
that now he was no longer so close, he was more willing to answer her.


*


Harry continued to push his way through the undergrowth but stopped. He knew the Arch was close
even before he saw it. He doubled back quickly and grabbed Hermione’s hand to pull her back away
from the boy.


“Whatever happens,” he whispered. “Just know that I love you.”


“Harry?”


“The arch is close. Very close. If it comes to a choice between Mark’s life and mine; it has to
be Mark that lives. Just make sure *he* stays out of the fight,” he added with a nod towards
the boy.


Harry kissed her briefly and said, “You can’t perform magic very close to it. You’ll also feel a
strong desire to just go and walk right through. If you start to feel anything then keep well
back.”


He hurried on before she could quiz him.


“Ah, I assume Potter’s fortune is still intact. Eh, Granger?”


Harry made a mental note to go back and punch him, but ran forward into the clearing. The Death
Arch was glowing bright white with an intensity that made it difficult to make out the ancient
outline.


Harry saw Mark standing a few feet from the Arch, looking into it with a mesmerised look on his
face.


“Oh!”


Harry turned back to see Hermione clutching her stomach and collapsing to the ground. The youth
was standing next to her, completely at a loss what to do.


“Help her!” snarled Harry in a low voice before the pull of the arch drew him towards Mark
again.


He stepped forward and seemed to cross an invisible divide. Just as the last time he had come
here, the arch was now of dull stone. It was the space between the stone that was dazzling now.


The arch was quite unlike its brother at the Ministry in London. That arch was ancient looking
whereas this one was quite intact and the intrados was smooth and unbroken.


He stared for a long moment at the veil, just as Mark was. It was like a window of sorts except
pitch black. No light escaped at all and yet it seemed to sparkle.


Up close, he knew, the surface was like a rippling mirror. It only looked like a cloth veil from
this distance. Sometimes it was perfectly flat and hard, and another moment it would have the
consistency of thick vapour.


The whispering began again. He couldn’t make out the words, and he wasn’t even sure if the
noises were just in his head, but once he began to listen the chattering would get louder and
louder.


Harry longed to go closer and feel the warm dark light on his face; to hold his hand out and
feel the nothingness behind the veil. They were so close.


He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He was here for Mark; not himself.


Judging from the distance between Mark and the arch, Harry guessed that he had discovered the
effect the arch had on magic. Perhaps he had discovered even more.


Harry couldn’t shout out aloud for fear that Mark might run at the Arch. He was only a few feet
away when Mark turned and saw Harry approaching.


Mark yelled and ran full pelt at the Arch.


Harry dived and just managed to grab an ankle. They both fell heavily and rolled to the
side.


“Mark! No!”


“LET ME GO! I HAVE TO!”


Mark kicked and punched Harry everywhere he could in his efforts to free himself.


“Listen to me, Mark. You have to hear me out!”


“NO!” cried Mark, his voice breaking. There was a bang and Harry was thrown ten feet away as
Mark jumped up and ran again at the Arch.


Mark jumped but was pulled back. Realising that limited magic was possible with much effort,
Harry had impaired him, but a moment later he was free again.


Mark hurled hex after hex at Harry, who defended himself but did not strike back. All he wanted
to do was move Mark a bit further away from the arch. Away from the lure.


Eventually, Mark tired and Harry advanced.


“Please, Mark. Let’s talk about this.”


“There’s nothing to talk about,” cried Mark, tears running down his face. He jumped sideways and
made one more desperate effort.


This time Harry brought him down almost at the entrance to the Arch.


Mark reached out and his fingertips almost touched the darkness. Harry grabbed his sleeve and
roughly tugged him back.


“Right!” yelled Harry above the screaming in his head. “I’m not letting you go. If you want to
go in, you’ll have to take me with you. I don’t want to die, Mark; and neither do you.”


“But, I have to bring them back.”


“Who?” demanded Harry, trying to pull them both back. Unfortunately Mark was still struggling
and Harry could feel the pull of the Arch now too.


Harry wanted nothing more at that very moment than to stand up and walk through the arch. He had
to will himself to resist, knowing that Mark’s life was something he wouldn’t allow to be thrown
away.


Harry grabbed Mark’s collar with one hand and his wand arm with the other. He pulled again but
Mark resisted.


“My parents! My Mum and Dad are in there. I know they are. I can hear them!”


“Their lives are over, Mark. You have to live your *own* life!”


“They shouldn’t have died! They were murdered!”


“Lots of people were killed, Mark,” said Harry, uncomfortably aware that he himself may have
killed them right here in the forest.


“I can bring them back! They’re just on the other side of the veil! Let me go to them! I can
hear them!”


“No, Mark. They can’t come back.”


“HOW DO YOU KNOW?!”


“Because,” said Harry. “Because I’ve been through that Arch. The only thing on the other side of
that veil or whatever it is, is *death*, I promise you.”


Mark stopped struggling a moment and they both lay panting on the ground. Then Mark twisted
around to face him.


“You’re lying.”


“No, I’m not. Please, listen to me. You know where this arch is now, so even if I stop you today
you could come back some other time. The only option I have is to persuade you not to want to go in
there. At least give me that chance to try?”


Mark glared at him for a long moment, but then nodded.


Harry released him.


“Let’s step away, can we? The chattering from the arch is too loud to talk properly and I need
to know Hermione’s okay. She probably deserves to hear this too.”


They got up and walked back towards the other two. Mark hurriedly wiped his face before they got
to within speaking distance.


Hermione looked close to tears but no longer in pain.


“Mark! Are you alright?”


“Mark has agreed to a short truce while we discuss this,” said Harry, pointing his wand down and
conjuring four comfortable armchairs that faced each other.


Harry then pointed his wand at the trees and his blindingly white stag patronus erupted from the
end and flew off towards the castle.


He then collapsed into the nearest armchair and the others followed his lead.


“Hermione, why don’t you do the introductions?”


She gave him a look that said, “*Are you quite sure?*”


Harry nodded, feeling a swelling on the side of his face where Mark had punched or kicked
him.


“Um, right. This is Mark Stannard. He’s a Third Year Hufflepuff. Mark, this is Severus Snape. He
used to be one of our teachers when Harry and I were at school.”


“Snape,” repeated Mark. “*The* Snape?”


“The one and only,” said Harry under his breath.


“But, you can’t be any older than me,” said Mark, although Snape did not respond.


“Yes, his recent appearance is a surprise to us too,” observed Harry dryly. Snape looked little
older than thirteen and to his consternation actually appeared to act like a thirteen year old. Of
course, he told himself, this could be just another act.


It would be hard to kill a thirteen year old, even without Hermione to intervene on his behalf
as she surely must.


“Mark,” interrupted Hermione seriously. “I’m so sorry if I upset you earlier.”


Mark looked back at the arch again, clearly reminded of their discussions.


“I said I would tell you about the Arch,” said Harry, still rubbing his face. Mark’s attention
snapped back to him.


“On the night we defeated Voldemort, this forest was full of people fighting. A good number of
them were students, too. I duelled with Voldemort in a clearing over in that direction.”


He indicated with a thumb aimed behind him.


“Things got a little intense and most of his followers fled by scattering into the forest. It
was just the two of us at the end.


“Voldemort always had a thing about Hogwarts. We always thought it was the prize he wanted as a
reminder that he ruled the wizarding world; but he had another reason too.


“Anyway, we fought and both sustained injuries. He was a very powerful wizard, but when he
realised he was mortal again, he began to falter. He was scared, you see? I had the upper hand,
simply because I knew there were worse things to fear than death.”


Harry looked up. Hermione and Snape were listening intently. Harry waved a hand in the air and
the cardboard shoebox flashed into existence. It fell onto the ground at their feet.


“So. You got one too,” muttered Snape.


Harry knew he was hardly being rational but the shoebox had become something very important to
Harry. He owed so much to Dumbledore and having the box close to him seemed to ease his stress
these days. It also reminded him of his high aspirations.


“Voldemort was hit by a curse that should have killed him,” continued Harry. “He was badly hurt,
but instead of fighting he ran. I chased after him as best I could, only he’d hit my leg and it was
difficult to run.


“He was trying to come here, to this Arch.”


“Oh, no, Harry,” breathed Hermione.


“Yes. He entered and I followed. If his spirit or whatever was left of him had escaped, he could
have come back again. I couldn’t allow that; so I followed.”


Harry swallowed and kept his eyes on the shoebox.


“I found myself in a very strange place. There was absolutely no sign of Voldemort, either. I
wondered if he already knew his way around.


“The strangest thing was that I no longer had any aches and pains. I seemed to have a physical
form, but somehow I knew I was dead. Well, no longer part of the living world, anyway. I couldn’t
find a pulse but I was still breathing.


“I hadn’t a clue what to do, so I set off in search of Voldemort. I didn’t bring my wand through
with me, but I could still do a limited amount of magic. I knew Voldemort was probably trying out
curses, so I practised as well as I went. That’s how I think I got so good at wandless magic.


“The whole place was like a cave system. Everywhere was rock and I saw no plants or animals at
all. The only light seemed to come from me, like I was a ghost except I was still solid.


“I stumbled on through the cave system for what seemed like hours. Then, for the first time, I
saw light ahead. I hurried toward it and found it was a kind of window. I tried to get close to
look out of it, but some kind of force held me back.


“Looking from a distance, I realised I was looking at an image of the real world. I’ve still no
idea where that place was, but it didn’t look like this country.


“So then I had a dilemma. Had Voldemort escaped through this window? Should I follow, and would
I be able to get back again if I needed to?


“Something told me that I should wait. A few hours passed and when the sun set again in the
window, I realised I had company.


“He just grinned at me and winked.”


“Voldemort?”


“No, it was Sirius. He just said, *Alright, Harry*? like we’d never been parted. Um, Sirius
Black was my Godfather,” explained Harry for Mark’s benefit. “He died by falling through the Death
Arch in London. Anyway, I explained how I needed to find Voldemort and asked for his help.


“The strange thing is, he seemed to have been waiting for me. He hadn’t seen Voldemort, but he
had a good idea where he was going. I asked him how he knew, and he explained that time didn’t move
the same way as in the living world.


“Sirius took me to another part of the cave system. There was a whole row of mirrors or windows,
each with a different view of the world. In fact, they each showed a different time, too.”


“Time?”


“Sirius’ favourite window was the last one along the row. It showed a garden. When I looked
through, there was a small boy playing on a blanket on the grass. His Mum and Dad were there
too.”


“Godric’s Hollow?” asked Hermione.


Harry nodded, his throat feeling tight. He swallowed and cleared his throat.


“Sirius told me the window repeated the same day, over and over. It was the day my parents were
murdered, of course. I realised that Voldemort intended to stop himself going to the house. If only
he could prevent himself from attacking me, he would never have marked me. I would never have
fought him and, well, you can guess the rest.


“With Sirius’ help, I managed to get through the window. I knew from our experience with the
Time Turner that I mustn’t be seen. That wasn’t the hardest thing, though.”


“Oh, Harry,” breathed Hermione.


“That’s right. I knew that I would have to let Voldemort kill my parents. If anything changed,
then there was a risk that Voldemort would never be challenged.


“I waited hours for him to appear, but it was only after my Dad was dead that the older
Voldemort attempted to scare his younger self off. I caught up with him and attacked him before he
could shout a warning. We fought, but I think the younger Voldemort must have seen us. That’s how
he knew to come through the window at all; he’d realised it was *himself* that he’d seen that
night.


“Anyway, Voldemort almost beat me again. Neither of us had any real strength left and he managed
to get the younger Voldemort to halt on the path by calling out.”


“What happened?”


“The younger Voldemort just sent a killing curse into the bushes. Maybe he thought it was my Dad
again, but he just continued into the house afterwards. He never bothered to go back and check who
it was he had killed.”


“He killed himself?”


“Not entirely. Both Voldemort and myself were out of our own times and had just arrived from the
land of the dead. I don’t think either of us could have been killed again that way.


“No. I tried to kill him with my bare hands, except he just wouldn’t die. I suppose it was
because he was already dead. It was almost morning before the window dragged us both back. I think
it was the moment the window returned to the morning view of me playing in the garden.


“Sirius wasn’t there this time, though. It was just Voldemort and me, in our very own private
hell. For what seemed days we kept attacking each other. He kept trying to escape through another
window, although the Godric’s Hollow window was gone now.


“Fortunately, I was now as un-dead as he was. I honestly thought we would be there for an
eternity, but one day we both stumbled into a new cave. Right there in the middle was a Death Arch.
That Death Arch over there, in fact.


“Voldemort knew an opportunity when he saw it and tried to dive through. He stopped the moment
he saw my mother standing in front of it.


“*Come, Tom*, she said. *It’s time. Death will wait no longer*.


“Voldemort was terrified. Suddenly I knew that the thing to do was to force him through the
arch. As we struggled, more and more of his victims came out of the arch. They just stood there,
watching.”


Harry wiped his face.


“I managed to get him back at the arch again. The cave was both full with ghosts but at the same
time empty.


“At times it was as if only my Mum and I remained in the cave. She smiled at me and turned
towards the arch and I made to follow but she stopped.


“When she turned around, she was holding a baby in her arms. It was me; a *ghost* me right
there in her arms.


“I heard her voice then, but her lips didn’t seem to move at all. She quoted the Prophecy to me
and then held the baby out to me. I took him, and he was solid. He was suddenly *real*.


“Then she repeated, *and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while
the other survives.*


“I had no idea what she was saying. Then I had this horrible thought. What if she was saying I
had to kill this baby?


“Then the baby started struggling, and I realised Voldemort was cowering away from him, or me. I
carried him over and the baby just reached out and touched him, right on the forehead. Voldemort
screamed in agony and I could see there was a scar burning on his forehead. It was just like
mine.


“Then the ghosts came forward and started dragging him towards the arch. I can still hear the
screaming sometimes.”


Harry paused, still deep in thought.


“What happened then?” asked Hermione is a tiny voice.


“My Mum and Dad were the last to leave. They just waved and went through leaving me with, um,
baby me. Then, things got a little strange.


“I remember the baby trying to put his finger up my nose,” said Harry, making Snape snort. “I
was wondering what to do next, when he tried again but then reached up and touched my scar. We were
tipped into the arch and we were both back in Godric’s Hollow. It was the next morning and the
house had been destroyed.


“I just had to go and see. I knew Hagrid would be there soon, as well as Sirius. I found my
Mum’s body at the back of the house, only she wasn’t alone. It a bit of a shock at first, seeing me
lying there lifeless.”


Hermione make a small noise and covered her mouth with her hand.


“I made to put the baby down in the cot where Hagrid would find me, only he vanished and the
baby next to my Mum screamed. I picked myself up and put him in the cot with a warm blanket.


“I stayed with him until I heard Hagrid arrive and then left through a rear window as quietly as
I could. As I climbed out, Sirius arrived on his motorbike. He called out, thinking I was my
Dad.


“A moment later, I was pulled back to the cave again.


“All the windows were gone now except one that stood directly opposite from the arch. I could
see this forest through it and I knew what day it was.


“I was being given a choice, I suppose. Life or who-knows-what. I chose life and stepped through
the window, except I actually found myself lying in front of that arch over there and my wand was
beside me.”


Harry turned to Mark and said seriously, “It isn’t the afterlife, Mark. It’s just a cave where
the balance between life and death gets maintained.”


“I still don’t understand,” said Hermione.


“Voldemort intended to create a Horcrux from my death. He did exactly that except my mother had
made him promise to spare me *in exchange for her life*. He broke that promise, and the
ancient magic she invoked turned against him. He couldn’t actually die because he’d split his soul.
However, the magic wasn’t about to let him get away with it.


“Maybe the magic knew it would have to wait a few years. The Horcrux he inadvertently created
was *me*, of course.


“But you said the baby was-” she said, but was unable to complete the sentence. “*You*
died?”


“Yes, but only my mortal body; not my soul. It was my death which invoked the whole thing. If
Voldemort hadn’t split his soul, he would have died in attacking me. I would have survived as a
child, but because he didn’t die, neither could I. The magic wouldn’t allow it. If Voldemort had
defied nature to live; then so must I.


“As it is, my mother’s love saved me. My body may have perished, but she kept me safe until the
moment she handed me over.


“Voldemort never had an opportunity to place part of his soul actually in me, even though I was
his Horcrux. I still don’t know if Dumbledore knew or not, though. He never said. Maybe he just
wasn’t sure.”


They were quiet for a long moment.


Harry turned to Mark and said, “You haven’t asked what a Horcrux is, Mark?”


“I already know what a Horcrux is,” he replied quietly. “I researched making one. I wondered if
that would enable me to return back out of the arch.”


Harry nodded, pleased that Mark was being honest.


“So,” said Hermione slowly. “Where does that leave us, Harry. I mean, what does the future hold
for you?”


“Who knows? I’ve a strong desire to walk through there again, I must admit. I can hear them
calling me. I can resist for now, but who knows how I’ll feel in the future.”


“Let’s just destroy the horrid thing,” said Hermione.


“Well, no. The magic may need it again. Besides, I promised I wouldn’t stop Mark going through
if he really wanted to.”


Mark frowned and Hermione blanched.


“I wanted to find them again so badly,” he said. “If I couldn’t get them out, I was sure the
other side would be better for me.”


“Life’s not so bad, is it?” asked Harry. “You’ve got friends who’d care very much if you went;
even if you haven’t taken the trouble to realise it.”


“Will you tell Carmen to stop following me around everywhere now?”


“She never listens to me,” Harry retorted with a small smile. “No, I’m afraid you’re going to
have to tell her everything about yourself and take your chances like everyone else.”


“The Death Eaters did things to her parents, didn’t they? She’ll hate me.”


“No. Carmen won’t blame you for that. In fact, she herself doesn’t know everything that they had
to endure. I do think she deserves your trust, though.”


“Why?”


“You’ll have to get that from her. I guessed that you deliberately let her see your notebook,
knowing she’d tell me. Was I right?”


Mark nodded.


“You’d seen the same thing before, Sir, but I don’t think you realised what it was.”


Harry frowned and remembered an encounter in the Great Hall one Sunday morning.


“I didn’t pay your books any attention at all,” he admitted. “Maybe you should have stayed a
little longer; or made sure I was awake first.”


“I got cold feet and decided to go.”


“Hm, that stupid hat was probably right then,” mused Harry. “So, why didn’t you slip away while
we were distracted?”


“I couldn’t. You might have come after me when Alec was in trouble. I couldn’t take that chance.
It was the same when Natasha went missing, only I only thought about that after. No-one was
thinking clearly when that happened.”


“Is that the only reason?”


“Um, no. I was having second thoughts. I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to even find the arch
just then. I had planned to make sure you would intercept me, only I kind of panicked earlier. I
was sure I was going to be expelled.”


Harry looked over to Hermione who was looking between them with a very calculating expression on
her face but she didn’t pass comment.


Harry then turned to Snape.


His smile faded.


-


*AN: Just one more Chapter to go!*




16. Who Is He? I Don’t Approve Of Him At All!
---------------------------------------------


**The Shoebox**


*by Jardyn39*


-


*Sorry for the delay!*


*-*


**Chapter 16 - Who Is He? I Don’t Approve Of Him At All!**


*Harry then turned to Snape.*


*His smile faded.*


He considered the surly looking boy for a moment and then threw him his wand back.


Although the wand landed lightly almost into his outstretched hands, the boy fumbled the catch
and ended up gathering the wand to himself awkwardly with his arms. He grabbed the wand handle
tightly but made no attempt to point it at anyone.


“How old is he really?” asked Mark.


“About forty,” replied Harry.


“How did you get this way?”


“I don’t really remember,” admitted Snape. “The letter implied Dumbledore and I had agreed that
he would leave a hidden package that I was to retrieve if the Dark Lord turned on me. The package
was simply food and supplies for me to hide out until help came.


“I must have retrieved the package and then followed Dumbledore’s directions to another safe
location.


“A few weeks ago I woke up in an empty cave. I had absolutely no memory of anything. I didn’t
even know my name or how I’d come to be there.


“I found food and a letter which told me to remain in the cave until my memories began to
return.”


“I suppose that must have been an effect of the spell,” said Hermione. “Did your memories take
long to come back?”


“I’ve no idea how long it took. There was plenty of food and the cave was warm and dry so I
stayed.


“Every day I woke up and found something new beside me. They were things that made me remember
flashes from my past, like a photograph of my mother. Finally, I realised that this thing,” he said
waving his wand, “was a wand and that I was a Wizard. It was a good job there was plenty of
firewood, otherwise I’d have burnt it.”


Snape stared down at the shoebox.


“Then, the next morning, a shoebox turned up. It was just like that one,” he added, nodding down
at the plain cardboard box.


“The box contained detailed letters from Dumbledore amongst other things and these seemed to
bring back all my memories.


“So, there I was. Young again to the extent that I was almost unrecognisable but with absolutely
no magical ability at all. I was furious, of course, and destroyed the letters in a fit of rage one
night.”


“Were you expecting something more?” asked Hermione.


“I’ve no idea,” he admitted.


“Of course you were,” interrupted Harry.


“What would you know?” spat Snape. “You know nothing, Potter. Nothing!”


“Really? I remember rescuing you from Voldemort and then sparing your life.”


“You only did that because you needed me,” countered Snape.


“That’s right,” replied Harry. “I released you after you ceased to be useful to me, though. I
could have killed you or handed you over to the Ministry, as I’d vowed to do; but I didn’t. You
lived, even though you showed no remorse for the murders you committed.”


“I was carrying out his orders. Dumbledore’s orders,” he added quickly.


“Of course you were. You received orders from *both* sides, didn’t you? Except, you only
carried out those orders that suited *you*.”


“I had to maintain my cover.”


“You were playing a very dangerous game,” said Harry. “For a long time not even Voldemort
guessed what you were up to.”


“It couldn’t have been that hard if *you* guessed, Potter.”


“Ah, but I didn’t guess, did I?”


“Overdosed on more, um – thing – potion, have you?”


“*Babbling*?” offered Mark quietly, but the others were not listening.


“You thought you should have been the so called Chosen One,” continued Harry. “You were
convinced that only you could get close enough to Voldemort to strike him down. Then you should
have been proclaimed a hero. After all those years working as a double agent as such personal risk,
they’d have to strike a new Order or Merlin. First Class wouldn’t be nearly good enough.”


“I’d deserve it!”


“Still,” continued Harry, “things didn’t really go to plan, did they? Dumbledore wasn’t supposed
to live for so long, was he? You kept on trying to get Voldemort to kill him, but he was always too
cautious.”


“He always over-estimated Dumbledore’s abilities.”


“No, he didn’t. Dumbledore also had an annoying habit of gathering information from a number of
sources, some of which you never knew. He never entirely trusted you, did he?”


“Yes, he did! He was fooled even to the moment of his death!”


“Oh, he believed you were on our side. That’s true enough, but he suspected you had ambitions to
replace Voldemort as the new Dark Lord if the Ministry weren’t appreciative enough. You always
thought you’d be clever enough avoid all those little mistakes Voldemort fell into.”


“If that were true, he would never have sent me as his agent.”


“Dumbledore trusted you would do the right thing *in the end*. He was wrong in that respect
and I think he knew he might have been wrong. Even so, Dumbledore cared enough to help you from
beyond the grave, just as he left help for me.


“He gave you a way out by offering you a new start. He has literally turned your clock back. Do
you think you deserved a new start?”


“Of course I deserve it!” sneered Snape. “I placed myself at enormous personal risk. I should be
hailed; not vilified.”


“That was never going to happen, not after-”


“Because I killed Dumbledore?”


“As a matter of fact, you were never convicted of his murder,” said Hermione a little shakily.
“Even the charges were dropped after Harry testified before the Wizengamot.”


“Why?” asked Snape, looking incredulous. “You promised you would kill me if you ever saw me
again.”


“I did,” admitted Harry. “Dumbledore left me letters in which he explained properly how he got
his hand injured. He was convinced you did your best to heal him, but accepted he had little chance
for surviving much longer.”


“He just wanted a few more months,” Snape said quietly. “I did my best.”


“That didn’t make it right to take him away from us. From *me*.”


“He ordered me to do whatever was necessary.”


“Dumbledore deserved better,” said Harry bitterly. “I’ll never forgive you for killing him,
Snape. Never.”


Harry breathed deeply. The dark side of him that had vowed to kill Snape was threatening to
break through again. The last time he’s allowed that to happen was right here in the forest when he
had killed so many.


He reminded himself that one of his reasons for being here at Hogwarts was to lay those
particular demons to rest.


Harry forced himself to calm down before continuing.


“The irony was, of course, that Voldemort didn’t appreciate your actions either, did he? From
what Draco told us, it sounded like he was very suspicious of you after that.”


“Yes. I completely miscalculated his reaction,” admitted Snape. “For months he had been
constantly raging pleas demanding Dumbledore’s death by any means. Once he had it, though, it was a
different story.”


“Oh, come on,” said Harry in exasperation. “Dumbledore was already weak from a curse protecting
Gaunt’s ring, he was poisoned by Voldemort’s protections and he even gave up his wand! This was the
*one Wizard* that Voldemort had always feared. If he was killed so easily that hardly says
much for Voldemort, does it?”


“It was more than that,” Snape corrected him. “The Dark Lord always admired *powerful*
Witches and Wizards. Had Dumbledore been well, I’m sure the Dark Lord would have wanted to do it
himself. He never for a moment believed Draco’s plan would succeed.”


There was quiet for a moment as both Harry and Snape simmered with hostility towards each other.
Even the forest seemed to quiet down.


The silence was broken by Hermione.


“Could I ask to what extent you think your memories have returned?”


“I’m not sure,” Snape admitted. “I just know I knew lots of spells and potions, but I can’t
remember anything. I found quite a few plants that I knew I should know about from their look or
smell, but I just can’t remember.”


“What about other memories? Do you remember your childhood?”


“Yes, keener than ever. My mother in particular.”


“What about school? Do you remember Hogwarts?”


“Vaguely. I don’t remember any of the lessons or classmates.”


“You don’t remember people? What about after school?”


“That’s pretty much a blank. I know I taught and I sort of remember teaching but there are no
specifics.”


“Yet, you seem to remember us. Do you remember us at school? What about our classmates; the ones
you used to teach?”


“I remember you two, but nothing more.”


“So, your memories came back but now you’re losing them again,” said Hermione. “I wonder if your
strong feelings about Harry have enabled you to cling onto those memories a little longer? You
never did get on, you know?”


“I remember,” Harry and Snape said together through gritted teeth.


“Um,” she began in a small voice. “As I began to tell you earlier, a file recently came into my
possession. It told me a little about what might have happened to you.”


Snape looked over to her.


“Time for you to decide, Severus,” Harry said seriously.


“Decide? The letter just said I was to return to Hogwarts. What do *I* have to decide?”


“Dumbledore always trusted you; even when you wavered,” said Hermione gently, now addressing the
boy, not the man inside. “He knew that whatever happened, your previous life would be over.
Voldemort was bound to discover your treachery and even now the entire wizarding world considers
you to have murdered the greatest wizard of our age.


“Dumbledore made provision for your future, Severus. He knew he might not survive, so he
entrusted his wishes to another. That wizard died recently and the responsibility for seeing that
Dumbledore’s wishes were fulfilled passed to me.


“He knew that you had to leave your old life behind, so Dumbledore decided to give you a new
beginning.


“There is place for you at Hogwarts, Severus, if you wish it. I’d guess that you are physically
about thirteen years old, but your magical abilities are much reduced. In fact, just like Harry you
will never again in your life produce an effective *Unforgivable Curse*. I’ve no idea about
how your skills as a Legilimens might be affected.


“Your dexterity should improve so you’ll become less clumsy, but you’re going to have to suffer
puberty once again.


“Physically you should grow older at a normal rate from now on but your overall life expectancy
will probably remain unchanged. Even so, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy a worthwhile life.


“What you decide to do with that life is up to you, but I hope you will accept this opportunity.
Learn from your mistakes, Severus. This is a new beginning for you.”


“Isn’t he still a Death Eater?” asked Mark quietly.


“There’s no Dark Mark now,” said Harry.


“I’ll be found out,” said Snape, his voice quavering slightly. “Besides, how can I attend
school. I haven’t been able to produce a single shred of magic.”


“We can protect you,” said Hermione. “The Ministry will never know.”


“It won’t be easy,” said Harry. “You’ll have to attend classes with students much younger than
you, especially until you get up to speed. It will mean a lot of work and hard study outside
classes too.”


“Yes, and I bet you can’t wait to get your own back, can you, Potter?” sneered Snape.


“*Professor* Potter,” Harry replied evenly. “What happened to your shoebox?”


“I lost it. It must have slipped overboard while I was sheltering from the storm. I stowed away
on a boat but the crossing was a bit rough.”


“No, you didn’t lose it,” said Harry, reaching down and picking up the shoebox. “Take a closer
look. Look familiar?”


He rotated it around so that the distinctive torn labels now faced Snape.


Snape looked at it in shock.


“It can’t be the same one. It got lost overboard. It fell into the sea.”


“No,” said Harry, standing up and holding it out to Snape. He dropped his wand and took it with
small trembling hands, but Harry did not let go. He looked down into those black eyes and a chill
seemed to fall around them.


“He was your friend. He was the only true friend you ever had; and I had to watch you kill him.
I won’t ever forgive you for that, Snape. I know Dumbledore wanted you to maintain your cover at
all costs, but I knew you would betray our cause before it was all over.”


Harry let go of the box, and Snape clutched it close to him like a doll. His mouth distorted in
a sneer, ready to make some retort but he glanced down at the box and he faltered.


The wand in Harry’s pocket seemed to grab his attention. It was the moment he always knew would
come one day.


If he was going to execute Snape, then now was the time.


Regardless of Hermione’s objections, Severus Snape was a condemned man. He had been convicted in
his absence for many terrible crimes done in the name of Voldemort.


This boy before him may have the appearance of a young teenager, but deep inside he was still
Snape. This was a man for whom his hate surpassed even that he had for Voldemort. He had dreamed of
the moment he would finally take his revenge; and had preyed that he might live just long enough to
fulfil that dream.


Harry’s hand seemed to close on his wand without any conscious will to do so.


He had wanted to demand a plea for mercy from Snape; some kind of acknowledgement that he had
been wrong. That he was sorry for doing such dreadful things.


Harry knew this was now pointless and he hated Snape for denying him that too. Snape the man
would have died before asking Harry’s forgiveness and Snape the boy might not now remember half the
things he had done.


Perhaps it would be best if he ended this now.


He looked down at the boy whose entire attention was fixed on the tatty shoebox.


*Dumbledore’s* shoebox.


He wondered if he too was about to misplace his trust and in the same moment knew he couldn’t
kill this child. He was hardly Severus Snape and according to the scrolls his adult memories would
be completely gone very shortly. Even now he could have no idea what crimes he was condemned for.
His ability to perform magic would return too in time, but he would need to re-learn
everything.


Was he a good enough teacher, wondered Harry? Could he really teach this child there was more to
life than hatred?


The boy’s eyes flicked up to Harry before returning to the shoebox. Harry saw confusion not fear
of him reflected in those black eyes now.


A moment later, the boy was in floods of tears. It was as if the weight of everything he had
done had come crashing down upon him.


Harry placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and he forced himself to stop crying.


“You live through Dumbledore’s compassion; not mine,” said Harry “Be worthy of that compassion.
*Earn* the trust he placed in you.”


Hermione sighed very quietly but Harry could almost feel her relief.


“Let’s go up to the feast,” he said gently. “You need a name. What would you like to be
called?”


Snape shrugged, wiping his eyes.


“Last name Prince, I think,” said Harry, now sounding much more business-like. “What about a
first name? Any suggestions?” he asked the group at large.


“James,” said Snape. “It’s my second name, after my mother’s father.”


“James,” repeated Harry. “Okay, James Prince. Welcome to Hogwarts. I’m afraid you’re out of
bounds. Next time, you’ll get a detention. Same goes for you, Mark.”


“Yes, Sir.”


“What House do you fancy, James?” asked Harry. “Not Slytherin, though. How about Hufflepuff with
Mark here?”


James nodded but Harry wondered if he was listening properly.


“Good. You can make up your personal history as you go. Mark will help you, he’s good at that.
Now, what have I forgotten? Ah, yes.”


Harry levelled his wand at James and said slowly, “Now, stand very still.”


There was a flash of light and the boy before them looked completely different. The greasy
curtains of black hair were gone, replaced by a severe crew-cut. Harry only fleetingly regretted
not being able to tell Ron that he had finally succeeded in carrying out something he had
threatened to do in his Second Year.


“Now,” Harry said seriously. “We’ve all heard things this evening that would be harmful in the
wrong hands. Let’s agree to keep all this just between the four of us, okay?”


“Professor McGonagall will need to know, too,” Hermione reminded them.


“*Some* things, Hermione,” said Harry. “Not everything.”


James checked that he still had ears while Harry proceeded to vanish the chairs and Hermione
examined the clothes James stood in.


She decided that a few cleaning spells would do for now and quickly proceeded to clean him
up.


“I still can’t do magic,” complained James. “Don’t you think that might be a slight problem what
with Hogwarts being a school for magic?”


“Ah,” said Harry, clapping him hard on the back as they headed back to the castle. “It just so
happens that a friend of ours has developed a kind of cure. It does involve a certain risk and you
keep catching fire for a while afterwards, but it might be worth having a go.”


“*Harry*,” warned Hermione.


Harry grinned at her. He knew full well that James could indeed perform magic. He’d forgotten
how, but with help he would soon catch up with his classmates.


It looked like he would have resume his popular Defence detentions after all.


For now, though, Harry was content just to tease the boy a little.


*


The four of them stepped into the Great Hall while everyone was enjoying the celebration feast
and chatting happily amongst themselves.


James turned and immediately headed for a spare seat, clearly suddenly very hungry at the sight
of so much food. Mark tried to stop him but was unable to grab him in time.


Deciding he had better follow, Mark joined James and sat down next to him.


Unfortunately James appeared to have chosen his seating place out of an old habit, because they
were now sitting at the *Slytherin* table. James immediately piled his plate high with food
and only Mark paid any attention to the hostile looks the other Slytherins were giving them.


Fortunately an incident was avoided when Carmen hurried over to join them. She was far too
powerful a witch to make an argument with and so they returned to their conversations while Carmen
quietly demanded explanations from Mark.


Harry and Hermione made their way up to the Staff table and were invited to sit down next to
Professor McGonagall.


“I’ll introduce you to James later, Professor. He’s agreed to join the Hufflepuffs, only it may
take him a while to get used to the idea.”


“So I see,” she replied looking over to the Slytherins.


Harry smiled and nodded to David at the end of the table as Kathryn chatted happily to Lupin and
Tonks.


“How is young Mark?” Professor McGonagall asked at once.


“I think he’ll be fine. We pretty much got there just in time.”


“Good.”


“I’ve said there’ll be no punishment this time, Professor. Um, where’s Natasha?” Harry asked,
scanning the Ravenclaw table but not seeing her.


“She’s in rather a great demand this evening. She’s been happily flitting between the tables all
evening, including this one. I believe she’s currently with the Gryffindors.”


Harry looked down the table and spotted her about halfway down. She got up and made her way
towards Carmen but saw Harry and came over.


“I was worried you wouldn’t come!”


“No chance of that,” said Harry with a smile.


He expected her to pass comment on his rather muddy dress robes, but her attention seemed
suddenly distracted.


“Um, who’s that boy that came in with you and Mark?”


“His name is James Prince. He’ll be joining your Year as a Hufflepuff.”


“He’s not a Slytherin? Does he know he’s at the wrong table?”


“You can talk, Miss *Ravenclaw*,” Harry said laughing. “I think you’d better go and join
them or the Slytherins will feel left out.”


Natasha hurried over and tried to sit next to Carmen, only she wouldn’t let her in. Blushing
furiously, Natasha had to sit next to James.


“Who is he? I don’t approve of him at all!” said David in a falsely serious voice from behind
them, making Harry and Hermione burst out laughing.


“First impressions are so important, aren’t they?” agreed Hermione.


“I dealt with those files, Hermione.”


“Thank you, David. I’m sorry you had to go, but I needed someone I could trust.”


“No worries. I’ll see you later,” he said and returned to sit next to Kathryn.


“I’m not going to even ask,” resolved Harry aloud.


“No, I’ve learnt my lesson, Harry. I just needed David to make sure no-one ever found out what
we found out about Mark’s real parents. You see, he was adopted. His natural parents were murdered
on Voldemort’s orders. Unfortunately, the people who adopted him were Voldemort’s supporters. By a
strange co-incidence, you killed his father and David killed his mother.”


“I wondered,” said Harry, looking over at Mark who seemed to be pleading with Carmen not to do
something amusing with a large jug of juice.


“His real parents were very talented. We wondered if Voldemort hadn’t wanted him to grow up as
one of his supporters.”


“That’s a chilling thought. Mark’s going to be a very powerful wizard when he gets a little
older. The fact that he could perform magic so close to the arch is amazing.”


Hermione nodded and asked, “So, which ones did he want to bring back, do you think? His birth
parents or the Voldemort supporters?”


Harry considered for a long moment but then said quietly, “It doesn’t matter.”


Just then Moaning Myrtle floated up out of the floor right in front of them.


“Have you decided yet, Professor?”


“Myrtle, how many more times?” complained Professor McGonagall.


“Oh, but he really wants to stay. Please can he? Draco is so sensitive and he’s completely
turned over a new leaf.”


“Perhaps, but there really isn’t anywhere for him to stay at the moment.”


“He can share my toilet!”


“I’m not sure that would be entirely appropriate. After all, you’re only sixteen, Myrtle.”


“I died over fifty years ago, Professor!”


Draco drifted into the Hall at the far end looking thoroughly bored.


“Oh, isn’t he wonderful,” enthused Myrtle dreamily. “I’ll go and tell him you’re thinking about
it.”


Draco fled the moment he saw her.


*


Harry and Hermione stood with their arms wrapped around each other beside the lake. It was gone
midnight and the feast had just come to an end.


“I didn’t quite tell Mark and James everything, earlier,” he confided.


“You keep calling him *James*, Harry.”


“Snape is dead as far as I am concerned, Hermione. I hated Snape like no-one else; even more
than I hated Voldemort. If Snape lives on in my mind, then so will part of my hatred for him. If I
only think of James as *James*, then I can give him the chance that Dumbledore thought he
deserved.”


“Does he deserve it?”


“That’s up to James, isn’t it?”


Hermione kissed him.


“Of course, the really annoying thing is that he won’t remember anything so there won’t be any
point in me reminding him of the fact that I’m not mistreating him in revenge for the way he
mistreated me!”


“You know, Dumbledore really ought to have thought of that,” she said sarcastically. “Still,
maybe you could remind James occasionally.”


“I intent to!” he replied with a laugh.


Hermione just rolled her eyes.


“What were you saying about what you said earlier?”


“D’you know what he once made me do?” asked Harry, his mind still on the many injustices heaped
upon him by his old Professor.


“Harry, can we please not mention him again, at least for this evening,” she asked firmly.
“*Earlier*?” she prompted.


“Hm? Oh, yes. You see, when I stood there ready to make my choice, it wasn’t as clear-cut as I
made out. My heart ached to go and find my parents, Sirius and Dumbledore. It still does. Even now
I can feel the pull of that Archway.”


“So, why didn’t you go?”


“You, Hermione. I really couldn’t bare the thought of a world, *any* world, without you.
That must be difficult to believe sometimes, especially the way I’ve treated you sometimes.”


“I’m not complaining, Harry.”


“Will you be attending the Wizengamot more, now that they’ve set themselves up again?”


“No. I handed them my resignation as an advocate this evening.”


“What? I wondered why you sneaked off. Are you sure this is what you want?”


“Unfortunately, as they pointed out, it’s a job for life. They have, however, granted me a leave
of absence while I pursue other interests.”


“What will you do?”


“You were right when you said there were probably many children here who were relatives of
Voldemort supporters. There are also many orphans here too. I’ve decided to learn how I can help
them properly. You’ve shown me that these people are not just names and facts in a file.”


“Won’t you need funding if this is official?”


“David and I will be heading up a very small Ministry office. David will be Head of Department
while I mostly stay here. It will mean a bit of a pay cut for us, though.”


“Where did you get the money?”


“Neville set us up as a sub-division of his office.”


“Does he fancy a further education sub-division too?” Harry asked hopefully. “No, you’ll have
grabbed all his spare cash. So, you’re staying up here full time?”


“I’ll be *working* here, yes.”


“What does that involve?”


“That’s a Ministry secret,” she said with a laugh, but then her face grew serious.


“Harry?”


“Mm?”


“Um, are you pleased I’ll be here more often?”


“Of course? Why?”


“My new work was only *part* of the reason why I’m staying up here.”


Harry kissed her neck and repeated absently, “*Only part*.”


“Yes. Oh, this is really too difficult. I just blurted it out when I found out. That’s how Ginny
and Luna know, of course. They promised not to tell anyone, though, even Neville and Ron. Mum just
forced it out of me.”


“Hermione?”


Hermione took a deep breath.


“I think I’m. Well, no. I *am*,” she said quickly. “Are you pleased?” she asked
nervously.


“Am I pleased about what?” he asked smiling, although he thought he could guess. There was only
one reason that the Arch would have prevented her from coming closer; and that was new life.


“Are we going to want to change the date set for the wedding?”


They kissed and Harry realised that the lure of the Archway in the forest was growing less and
less.


END


-


*AN Well, that’s it. Thanks for reading and reviewing.*


*I did begin an Epilogue but got rather long and I just might extend this into another story
which could also pick up David Royce’s earlier background. I’ll see how it goes.*