Unofficial Portkey Archive

Perfect Fit by Phoenix-Angel
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Perfect Fit

Phoenix-Angel

"What was the point of all that? I mean, he got away. And Wormtail's gone too. There's no way Sirius' name's going to be cleared now," Harry said, dejected.

"We all fought a good fight, Harry," Hermione tried consolation. "It's not anyone's fault that they got away."

"I'm really glad that's over with," Ron said with an involuntary shudder.

"We should get back now," Dumbledore interjected gently. The three nodded solemnly and followed the wizened man to the far end of the cliff, where an old tin can lay abandoned. Without a word, all four placed a finger on it and, within moments, were jerked forward. As they felt their feet touch smooth, solid ground, Harry felt the warmth from the fire in the wall sconces wash over him, and thanked the heavens that Hogwarts had so many of them.

"If you three would please follow me to my office," Dumbledore said softly, starting to walk. The other three agreed reluctantly and followed the tall wizard to down the long hallways and up the revolving stone staircase. As they entered Dumbledore's magnificent office, Fawkes, the beautiful phoenix that perched on the ledge behind the Headmaster's chair, turned its head to regard them with its beady black eyes. Dumbledore's office continued to amaze Harry with all the unknown gadgets it held that were constantly in motion. Upon turning to the chairs, Harry saw two dogs, one big, black and shaggy, the other about the same with droopy jowls and sad eyes. In a second, they had transformed into two fully-grown men.

Dumbledore, without a word, walked over and sat behind his desk, his fingers joined together.

"Please. Sit," he gestured toward the chairs. The threesome sat, while the two older men stood behind them, glaring.

"Harry, are you all right? What happened?" Sirius' hand was on Harry's shoulder immediately as he leaned in, and the questions that shot out of him, simple as they were, were making Harry's head spin.

"Sirius, give the boy breathing room," Aberforth's gentle voice cut through. Sirius heaved a sigh and stood back, but the hand didn't move.

"What happened, Albus?" Aberforth turned his attention to Dumbledore.

"A lot," Dumbledore sighed heavily.

"It was horrible," Ron muttered, looking down at his feet.

"Who placed the Portkey there? I've been standing guard with Hagrid, and I didn't see any unwanted visitors here!" Aberforth sounded aghast.

"I have a theory as to who it might have been, but I am not sure," Albus replied thoughtfully. "But before I put my suspicions to the test, Harry, Ron, Hermione, could you please tell me what happened before I got there?" his voice was gentle but firm.

Harry was speechless. He couldn't think of what to say. He had seen so much in the past hours, and none of it was good...

"Harry, if you don't want to, its..." Sirius said gently.

"No, its OK," Harry interrupted. He felt that he had to get this poison of information out of his system before it broke him down.

Taking a deep breath, he began. Ron and Hermione cut in when Harry was at a loss for words to fill in the missing gaps of the gruesome tale. Hermione was shaking, and Harry took a stiff grip of her hand, which hung limply over the arm of the chair.

"And he got away! Just as I thought that your name was going to be cleared, that everything would be OK, he just disappeared!" Harry exclaimed, angered beyond words. He felt like he was going to explode. He stood up.

"Harry, calm down," Sirius said gently.

"No! I can't! It's not fair! We were so close! And he got away, all free to go do Voldemort's bidding again. He doesn't deserve to live!" Harry shouted.

"Neither does Voldemort, but we can't do anything about it," Sirius replied.

"Why!? Why can't we!? Combined, we have as much power as he does! Why couldn't we defeat him tonight!? He still got away! I'm tired of it!" Harry turned on Sirius. Sirius stared back levelly.

"Think about it. One of you were bound, one under his control, and you were facing off against him alone," Sirius explained, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"Not after Ron snapped out of it and Hermione was freed!" Harry said blindly.

"Harry, calm down and think about it. Three fifth-years against Voldemort and his Death eaters," Sirius said, his voice shaking slightly. He paused before continuing, "And besides, what's the great loss? So Wormtail got away. He did before. I'm not surprised. I would've been surprised if he had stuck around somehow. It's all right. We'll catch him one day. Until then, I'll remain man's best friend and live off rats. They're not that bad, really." He managed a weak laugh.

Harry sighed in defeat. Without a word, he said back down, the anger still rising in him. He remained quiet even as Ron continued.

"So, Albus," Sirius began anxiously as soon as Ron had uttered the last words, finishing the tale, "who do you think placed the Portkey? And knew exactly when to engage it?"

"Patience, Sirius," Dumbledore said calmly. "Harry, I believe you knew Arabella Figg."

"Yeah. She used to be my old baby-sitter," he muttered.

"Do you know why she was there?" Dumbledore prodded. Harry shrugged. A few hours ago, when she had first appeared from beneath her black cloak, Harry would have loved to know why she had been there. But it didn't matter anymore. She was dead, and the glimmer of hope that had blossomed within him when Wormtail had been bound was also dead.

"She was there for you," Aberforth replied quietly. Harry opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a banging at the door.

"Enter," the Headmaster said.

Alastor Moody stepped in through the door.

"Professor Moody!?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Good morning to all of you," Moody greeted. Then, turning to the door, he curled a finger. "Come on. You won't do any good by hiding."

"You don't work here anymore! I refuse!" a voice rang from behind the doors. That voice was familiar. The biting tone, the rude quality of it...

"You know, Malfoy, you made quite a nice ferret. Perhaps you'd make a better worm underneath my shoe. Care to give it a go?" There was silence for a minute. Then, a blonde head slid in through the door, followed by the body it was attached to. Draco Malfoy followed in through the door, and Moody went up the final steps and stood next to Dumbledore's desk. Malfoy lingered near the doorway.

"Come, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore beckoned. Malfoy shuffled forward and stood next to Moody, wearing a look of strong hesitation. For a few seconds, there was no movement except for Moody's eye, which was circling in every direction ceaselessly.

"Well, go on!" Moody broke the uncomfortable silence. "Tell them what you told me!"

"I don't have to!" Malfoy retorted indignantly.

"I suggest that you do," Aberforth spoke up, eyeing Malfoy with suspicion.

"Who are you?" Malfoy asked, giving the man a look of distaste.

"Mr. Malfoy, is there something you would like to tell me?" Dumbledore directed Malfoy's attention back to him with these words. Draco shuffled uncomfortably in his spot.

"Malfoy, I'm warning you..." Moody started, his wand already raised. Dumbledore raised a hand to stop Moody from going any further, and Moody sighed.

"Sir, I..." Malfoy started, his face twisted into an unreadable expression.

"Yes?" Dumbledore prompted gently. Just then, a knock rang at the doors once more.

"Enter," Dumbledore said, his voice with an edge of exasperation.

"Albus! You're back! Did you bring them with you?! Are they all right!? What's going..." A very flustered Professor McGonagall ran in through the doors, whizzing through the questions. She stopped short, her bloodshot eyes taking in the group of people gathered in the office.

"Yes, I did bring them back with me. They're quite all right, as you can see. Now, I believe Mr. Malfoy was about to tell us something," Dumbledore answered patiently, then turned back to the younger blond wizard. "Continue."

"I..." Malfoy paused once more. "I was the one that placed the Portkey so that Potter could find it. But it wasn't my fault that Granger went with him."

Professor McGonagall gasped. Aberforth stepped forward menacingly. Sirius burst out with an enraged "What!?", and was joined by Ron, Hermione and Harry in unison.

"My father made me put it here. I honestly didn't want to," Malfoy refused to make eye contact with anyone, and so it seemed like he was conversing with the highly polished floor instead.

"That's not all!" Moody growled. He prodded Malfoy with his wand. "Tell him the rest, boy!"

"Also, I..." Malfoy started, then stopped again.

"Oh, spit it out!" Aberforth snapped. Malfoy raised his head slightly to shoot Aberforth a glare.

"Aberforth, please," the Headmaster said in a warning tone. "Please go on, Mr. Malfoy," he said in a much softer tone.

"I was spying on Potter for my father," Malfoy blurted out.

"So that's why you were staring at us in class, and in Hogsmeade! You slimy..." Ron shot out of his chair.

"Mr. Weasley!" Dumbledore's voice was firm. "Please take your seat."

"But, sir....." Ron tried to start again.

"Sit down, Weasley. Or I'll be forced to deduct points from my own house," McGonagall put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. Grudgingly, he complied.

"Why?" was the old wizard's simple question.

"For once, I wanted something bad to happen to Potter, and not find a way out of it. I wanted him to suffer. Sure, he's faced the basilisk and all that, but he hasn't seen any danger that he hasn't weaseled out of. My father said that if I did this, it would help him show up Potter," Malfoy answered, anger in his voice. He was staring at Harry with hate now. Harry glared back.

"I see. Alastor, could you please take Mr. Malfoy outside and wait? I would like to speak to these three for a moment. I will be right out," Dumbledore said to Moody.

"Albus! Aren't you going to do anything? This boy put several lives in danger!" Moody said, puzzled.

"I am aware of what he did and did not do," Dumbledore said calmly. "If you two would be so kind as to wait outside, we will talk as soon as I am done here."

"All right," Moody muttered. Prodding Malfoy all the way, they exited quickly.

"Harry, do you know why Ms. Figg was there?" the change in gears was quick. Harry looked up.

"Aberforth said she was there for me," Harry answered lamely.

"Yes, but do you know why?" the Headmaster asked. Harry shook his head.

"To protect you," Dumbledore answered, making Harry look in disbelief.

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, utterly confused.

"Arabella Figg was a very powerful witch. In fact, when she went here, she was top of her class, much like Ms. Granger. She was pretending to be in league with Voldemort to get inside information for me. She was working with Professor Snape and against Voldemort."

"But...but that can't happen. I mean, she was a mean lady with cats who lived in a Muggle neighborhood! How could she have been helping you, and Snape, and going to Death Eater meetings?" Harry asked, his confusion turning to surprise.

"Have you not heard of witches and wizards living in Muggle worlds? She was put there to look after you. She was your baby-sitter because your aunt and uncle were told to leave you in her care whenever they went out. She was part of the wards and protections placed near the house you live in," Dumbledore explained.

This was all too much. All Harry wanted to do was go to sleep. He was tired, and angry, and a whole mixture of emotions was churning inside of him.

"What about Voldemort?" he asked finally, giving up trying to take it all in. "He's not going to come back after all this. Is he going to go into hiding again? Is he going to spring an attack on someone when they least expect it?"

"We do not know for sure," Dumbledore sighed heavily, "but we can only hope not. However, as we do not have knowledge of the workings of Voldemort's mind, we cannot determine anything as of now. We can only hope, and pray."

"Is that all?" Ron asked, looking exhausted.

"For now, yes, Mr. Weasley. That is all," Dumbledore replied kindly. "If you wish to go, you may." No sooner had the words left the Headmaster's mouth that Ron was standing up and heading toward the door, clutching his shoulder painfully.

"But I must ask you," Dumbledore spoke up, causing Ron to stop in his tracks and turn around, "not to tell anyone of the events that happened tonight. There simply is no point. And, Mr. Weasley," he added, "I would suggest that you go to Madam Pomfrey, all three of you, to get treatment for any injuries you've suffered. The physical ones, of course."

"Yes, sir," they muttered. Harry did not have the strength to stand up. He felt drained.

"Harry..." Hermione whispered, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. She stood up, which looked like a great struggle for her. Letting go of her hand, Harry followed suit, then followed Sirius and Aberforth, who had transformed, out the door, where he passed an awaiting and nervous Malfoy, who kept shooting glances at Moody and his eye that had a life of its own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I think I will kill you, Harry. I haven't been happy in a while. Make me happy. Die!" Voldemort shouted. Harry gasped at the sudden increase in volume, then, as a strong wind whipped by, felt the heels of his feet standing on air. Turning back, he saw great black waves crash against glinting, jagged rocks. Like snake's tongues, they forked and reached up toward him. Thunder boomed ominously in the almost-black sky above.

"Avada Kedavra!" came the voice.

"Protego!" Harry cried, and the jet of green light hit his shield with such force that he momentarily teetered backwards. As the light bounced off, and he felt himself regaining balance, another gust of wind shook the area and pushed him backward. Down and down he fell, toward the open mouth of the sea, ready to devour its victim...

Harry awoke with a start, panting and clammy all over. Trying to slow down his breathing, he looked around himself frantically. The foot of the twin- sized bed he was on was covered with chocolates of all kinds, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and many cards wishing him a speedy recovery. He sighed heavily, partly in relief and partly in anger. This wasn't the first time he had had this dream. Thankfully, they were getting less and less intense...

He turned around, everything a blurry mass. Blindly reaching for his glasses and placing them on the bridge of his nose, he surveyed his surroundings. Hermione was on the bed to the right of his, sleeping peacefully, her breathing deep and even. He smiled, thinking that she resembled an angel, even with the small cuts and scratches on her otherwise flawless face. Looking the other way, he saw his other best friend, Ron, lying on his side. He was also in deep slumber, but his face was twitching. Harry guessed that he was having a dream. Sighing again, he settled back into his pillows and closed his eyes, eventually dozing off with his glasses still on his face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Oh, good, you're all up!" came Madam Pomfrey's cheerful voice. Harry squinted against the rays of sunlight filtering in through the large windows in the infirmary and slowly sat up. He realized that his glasses were still on, because he could see everything with clarity.

At once, the nurse was at his side, running her wand over his cuts and muttering spells and healing charms under her breath. After a few moments, she forced a cup of hot potion down his throat, which made Harry fell a lot better, and then settled a tray over his knees.

"Breakfast, Potter. Eat up. You'll need your strength." With that, she hurried off.

"Hi, Harry!" he turned to see Hermione grinning, her breakfast half-eaten and a thick book propped against the tray. He grinned back.

"Hi, Hermione. I take it that you're OK?" he asked, eyeing the book, amazed at how she could read at a time like this.

"Better than," she replied, stuffing a piece of toast into her mouth. "You?"

"Yeah," he said. "Just been having...dreams. That's all."

"Mr. Weasley! Stay still!" he heard Madam Pomfrey shouting from behind. He turned to see Ron struggling against her. She was holding a green vial of potion in her hand.

"No! I don't want that stuff! Its nasty!" he cried, trying to shove her hand away.

"Unless you want to be half-normal, I suggest to swallow this, now!" she replied exasperatedly. He groaned, letting his arms fall limply to his sides. As Harry watched with further amusement, Ron twisted his face into an expression of total disgust as Madam Pomfrey forced it down his throat.

After she had left, Ron's expression remained. He dived for the food at the foot of his bed and ripped a Chocolate Frog open, stuffing the whole thing into his mouth and chewing furiously. Harry couldn't help it. He began to laugh.

"Wa fo uffy?" Ron asked, still chewing, frowning at Harry and Hermione, who were both laughing now. This only caused them to laugh harder. After a few seconds, he swallowed and said, "What's so funny?"

"You," they replied together and then laughed again.

"Ha ha ha," he muttered. "Let's all laugh at Ron Weasley because he has to drink bile for potion." This did not help the laughter at all.

After they had calmed down, Harry asked, "Are you feeling all right, then?"

"Yeah. Sure wish that potion wasn't necessary for that, though," he mumbled. "What about you, Harry? Hermione?"

"I'm feeling great," Hermione replied, chewing a piece of bacon.

"I can see that. How can you read a book now, Hermione!? I swear, I'll never understand you," Ron shook his head. Hermione just rolled her eyes and turned back to her book.

"Harry, are you OK, mate?" Ron asked, turning to his scar-ridden best friend.

"Yeah. Just been having dreams. Nothing bad, though," he assured as he took a bite of his eggs.


"Yeah. Me too," Ron sighed as he picked up the breakfast tray sitting next to him and started wolfing down. Harry shook his head. Some things would never change.

"Have room for talking, or are you too busy stuffing your face?" a voice came from beyond. All three looked up to see Lavender emerge from the front and sit at the foot of Ron's bed, one hand on his leg which was underneath the sheet and wearing a huge smile.

"Lavender!" Ron exclaimed, swallowing hurriedly. He pushed he tray out of the way to give her a tight hug. Harry and Hermione raised their eyebrows at each other before turning back to the display.

"Are you OK?" Lavender was asking him, running her hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I'm fine. How are you?" Ron asked her, her hand in his.

"Fine. I missed you so much though," she sighed. He wrapped her in another embrace. Harry hurriedly cleared his throat and they pulled apart, both looking quite embarrassed and shy, and both blushing the same shade of red.

"So, what's going on with you two?" Harry asked, having a feeling that he already knew the answer.

"We're just friends!" Lavender quipped.

"Well, maybe a bit more than friends," Ron admitted shyly, grinning.

"And a bit more," Lavender added.

"How much more?" Hermione asked carefully.

"So much that we're in love," Lavender answered sheepishly, smiling widely.