Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: I love it when a plan comes together. Who, if anyone, remembers the "A-Team?" I used to watch that show religiously as a kid. It was such an interesting blend of talent in that group, and the motley crew that makes up the Order reminds me so much of them.

From here, we start the real war one covert operation at a time. As white goes first, let's begin with the Order.

Thanks again to everyone that reviews! It's so much more fun writing to an active audience!

~TOW

YEAR 3: The Year of the Serpent -- Autumn
================================

I kept a careful watch on the platform as student piled into the Hogwarts express. September 1st, a Friday this time, was unnaturally cool and the steam from the Express hung low across the walkways, making everyone's legs disappear from the knees down.

Wearing my school robes and carrying my book bag, I looked like a perfectly normal dark shadow in the corner, leaning against the wall of the station, waiting for his friends. My trunk, once again a tiny cube in my pocket, contained a slightly different set of equipment than the standard curriculum would ask of a third year student, however. In fact, its contents would make the average sane person question what exactly I was going to do. Cracking a smile at the thought, I looked down at my watch, waiting.

As the hands struck 10:56, Hermione, Pansy, and the Weasleys came through the platform barrier, Marius, Livia and Arthur trailing behind. Hermione made a great show of calling my name, and rushing up to hug me, while Pansy was far more reserved, since my sister would have just seen me recently. I kissed Hermione firmly, and exchanged back-thumps with the twins and a hug with Ginny and Pansy. Then, like the group of friends we were, we walked over to the train, entering the fog bank of steam.

Of note was the fact that none of us carried regular trunks anymore; the self-shrinking variety that I owned was one of the many "security upgrades" that the Order went through courtesy of the Malfoy fortune: Never leave your stuff unattended except in the most secure of areas, which meant Grimmauld or the Hogwarts dorms. It certainly made life easier for everyone involved when it came to being on the train; no clutter of luggage in the compartment meant a more comfortable ride overall. Hermione and I had our extra-dimensional book bags along, but everyone else was bag-free, and everyone was in their robes already. It made us look slightly different than the usual group, but that's exactly what people expected of us by now. No one batted an eye as we boarded the train, chatting away happily.

We moved quickly to the back of the train, taking a compartment as close to the end of the train as possible. Once we were inside, we sprawled out onto the seats, and only the slight tenseness on our faces would indicate that something was amiss.

I took a seat right by the window, and waved to my parents and Arthur, and smiling as they waved back. Hermione settled into the seat beside me, leaning on me. Pansy crammed herself between Fred and George, the three of them holding their own private conversation about the various items they were making. Ginny sat beside Hermione, digging through Hermione's book bag for one of the games or books that were packed there, and making sure to leave space on her other side for Luna if she showed up.
I glanced at my watch, which read 10:59. Perfect.

I reached into my book bag and pulled out my Invisibility Cloak. The telltale lump in the middle of the unseen mass of cloth brought a smile to my face as I remembered a very long and tiring session of human and universal transfiguration. I rose and set the lump and cloak on my seat. Hermione pulled the blinds for the compartment windows and door, giving us the moment of privacy needed for this to work.

After a quick charm to enlarge the hidden object, I pulled the Invisibility Cloak away with a hard yank, spreading it over myself as I turned. As I disappeared, a near-to-exact duplicate of me was sitting in my seat with its eyes closed and head leaned back, apparently asleep. Hermione pulled a thin blanket out of her bag and covered my double's waist and legs, completing the illusion.

"Alright, you all know the deal," my voice sounded from the center of the compartment. "Don't let anyone 'wake' me or touch me. Wood feels a hell of a lot different than skin does." Pansy laughed and Ginny giggled; Hermione and the twins nodded. "Good," I said. "Fred, George, you're up."

As the train began moving at exactly 11:00, Fred and George gave in to their 'curiosity' and opened the door to the caboose, poking around for a few minutes and even opening the back outside door to the train before losing interest and going back to their compartment.

Invisible and virtually undetectable, I brought my legs over the back railing and dropped to the tracks, stumbling and crouching low to drape my cloak over the entire area around me. I walked slowly along the track's wooden supports to keep from leaving footprints, and carefully climbed up the service ladder to the platform.

Parents and families were now filtering away, most towards the large Floo connection at the far end, some just looking to leave the warded platform and Apparate. I wound my way around the milling crowd, and approached the three people who were still loitering and talking where I had first waved to them.

I intentionally brushed against Livia, taking her hand in mine. She, in turn, quickly wrapped up the conversation, and the four of us quickly walked through the platform gateway to find a decent Apparition spot. Three loud cracks later, the Arthur, Livia, and Marius had left the platform, headed to the Ministry to begin their work day.

-----

I detached from Livia as soon as we appeared in the Atrium. While she walked purposefully towards the lift, I headed for the stairs. Ministry workers rarely used stairs anymore. The large lift facilitated transport well enough, and with two more being planned, the stairs would likely gather quite a bit of dust. So, for an invisible infiltrator who came in with his mum, the stairs are his best friend.

I moved quickly up the stairs passing the floors and their associated departments. The Department of Magical Games and Sports... The Department of Magical Transportation --our eventual goal... The Department of International Magical Cooperation... The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures... The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes... The Department of Magical Law Enforcement... and finally, the Administration Level.

Magical travel was restricted off of the Atrium level, but there weren't any prohibitive wards. Arthur had explained to the Order that everything ran off of a hideously complicated set of sensory charms set to trigger other spells when the appropriate contingency occurred. It normally made it next to impossible to move or cast spells untracked in the Ministry building when you were outside of your designated area of work, which was a fairly potent security measure. It also meant that any Imperius curses floating around had to have been cast outside of the Ministry itself in order to avoid immediate detection.

Now, everyone imagine how easy that would become if you could manipulate the Floo network to intercept the bulk of the Ministry before they ever got to work?

Yeah. That's the kind of scary we're talking about. That's why I was now poking around the Ministry in my cloak when I should have been on the Express to Hogwarts.

Dumbledore, once he had confirmed the extent of the spells used, had wasted no time in assigning some of the deep Ministry espionage to me. My invisibility cloak protected me from not only sight, but most sensory charms as well; as long as I didn't actively cast spells, I wouldn't even exist as far as Ministry security went. Also, since I hadn't ever been in the Ministry openly -so no wand-processing and magical signature imprint at the front desk-- the sensor spells wouldn't recognize me, so the worst that could happen is an alert about an 'unknown' wizard mucking around, which wouldn't implicate anyone as long as I could get away - and getting away was the one thing that Dumbledore could assure me of.

"Naturally, there's going to be a cloak or two in the Death Eaters' possession," Dumbledore had told me. "You will have to beware the possibility of running into a hidden opponent. If you do, your first and foremost goal is to remain alive and unidentified. Otherwise, your secondary goal is to obtain their cloak."

Yes Sir, General Sir.

The Administration level held all the archived records kept by the various departments. I was doing some creative altering of history today, replacing old documents with some Marauder-forged new ones. It was something of a test of my patience to wait for Ministry personnel to open the doors of the records rooms, but Emmeline Vance had assured me that every room was used frequently throughout the day -- and they were.

Large oak filing cabinets and rolling shelf units filled the records room to bursting, but I had all the time in the world to locate the personal records of Ministry employees and convicted criminals and place reports of possession of Ministry banned Dark Artifacts --Artifacts that the Malfoys had so graciously provided us.

Naturally, Ministry records of a man's previous criminal history aren't damning in and of themselves. There's a long chain of things to forge: Auror reports, Records of arrest, records of the trial and sentencing, and records of the prisoner's stay in Azkaban.

But I had all those, including an utterly flawless arrest and investigation report from renowned Master Auror Captain Alastor Moody, whose career accomplishments would never be questioned. The trial report stated that sentencing was suspended indefinitely, pending further debate. This was, according to Elphias Doge, the standard method to table someone's trip to Azkaban if enough gold changed hands under the table. It was the perfect setup: An unremarkable trial for an unremarkable person about an unremarkable Dark item that came to an unremarkable conclusion.

I snickered unkindly as I filed the last of the papers, my cloak preventing the room from detecting and logging the document additions. Martin Langford, a simple and unassuming charms specialist for the Floo Network back down in the DT was about to have his life turned upside down for the benefit of the Order. Naturally, the Order believed that the man was under the Imperius or perhaps willingly aiding the Death Eaters.

I had been working with Dumbledore nearly daily for a year and a half, though, and I was beginning to catch on to how the man thought in his various guises. There was absolutely no way in my mind that Dumbledore would send me against an Imperius-controlled or willing helper to the Death Eaters, as they'd be too closely watched, and it was far too easy for the Death Eaters to clear their tracks, since I was too green to know how to prevent it. Likewise, Dumbledore wouldn't send me against a known Death Eater or Inner Circle member, because for all my ability I was still not skilled enough at dueling or stealth and avoidance to stand a chance.

But Dumbledore would certainly send me on a simple espionage assignment with nothing more than a roomful of papers and a completely innocent and unsuspecting Ministry employee as obstacles. That I could handle with ease. So I couldn't help but laugh as I ruined this man's life, knowing that almost without a doubt he didn't deserve it. It was just like my youth was ruined, and I hadn't deserved it. Just like Hermione's youth, too.

Hermione's tragedy was caused by factors that are unknown; the Hand of God, if you will. Well, does it make any real difference if my tragedy was by the Hand of Voldemort? We both still suffered. Now, this man would have tragedy dealt to him by the Hand of Harry Potter, and he will suffer. Life sucks like that, I guess.

Aren't I such a nice person?

Once the papers were all filed, I waited patiently for the door to open again, and carefully made my way back to the stairs. Down I went, jogging to make up time: DMLE; DMAC; DRCMC; DIMC... I stopped at the level of the Department of Magical Transportation, and carefully made my way inside.

The level was dominated by the enormous control station for the Floo network. On one side of the main walkway there was a workshop section for Portkey enchanters, and offices for the licensing of enchanters. There was also a small training area and office for Apparition, too. People who didn't earn their certificates in Hogwarts (or whatever school) could come here to practice in a controlled environment and master Apparition.

The certificate was sort of a license, but there was only a basic fee for using the training area, and no renewals were needed; it was simply a way to keep untrained wizards from leaving splinched body parts and a trail of blood all across Britain. The certificate just made it seem like there was a reward for mastering Apparition, so that students actually practiced. Just like most of the ways adults trick kids: The cooler it looks, the better it works.

As I walked towards the colossal control station, I passed the legal offices of the various broom-making companies, stopping only for a second to admire the Firebolt displayed in the window of Comet International. The Firebolt was the newest and possibly best professional grade broom ever developed.

Pansy had crowed all about the broom, and how it was the most amazingly enchanted item she'd ever heard of.

Some of you, especially the muggles, should be aware of Formula 1 racing, right? Well, you know that F1 cars have strict limitations on their engines: 2.4 liter, normally aspirated V-8's. Everything else is aerodynamics, tires, suspension, and the skill of the driver. Professional brooms are similar: there are regulated tolerances for maximum acceleration, deceleration, and turning rates; everything else is up to the designers, and you can just imagine the variety of performance charms the companies add to give their product an edge over the competition.

Among other things, the Firebolt is one of the few professional brooms without a cut throttle --that is, without any limitations on maximum speed. The broom's natural acceleration is logarithmic -- it tapers off and plateaus, so that while the broom will still constantly accelerate, the acceleration slows down noticeably after 150 mph and is practically nonexistent after 200mph. After that, unless you're travelling cross-country you'd never see a meaningful increase in speed.

The company is required to place charms on the broom that govern acceleration to ensure that it'll take more than the length of a Quidditch pitch before the Firebolt can meaningfully outstrip the speed of other professional brooms. While the broom was competitive with other pro models for Chasers, the Firebolt seemed to be the broom of choice for Seekers, the only players who would be able to make use of those higher speeds. That was certainly on my mind as I eyed the broom.

Maybe I could work with Pansy to strip out the regulator charms. If it was able to accelerate at its natural rate...

Idiot! Drool over the broom later. You've got work to do.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I quickly made my way to the Floo offices. Langford's office was one of the first, and one of only three labeled "Charms Specialist." His door was partway open, and Martin himself was sitting quietly at his desk, reading through a scroll of parchment that must have been a half-mile long, looking at each line of text very carefully. So carefully, in fact, that he didn't notice his door open an extra couple of inches as I squeezed through.

There was a leather duffle bag in front of his desk, which was obviously what he carried back and forth to work. I quickly crouched down in front of it, and covered it with my cloak. If Martin looked over his desk, the very worst he could think was that someone had taken his bag, or that he had forgotten it somewhere.

I carefully unbuckled the top of the bag, and then reached into my robes. I pulled out a small hemispherical device covered in sinister-looking runes, with a spike at the apex of its curve. It kind of looked like a miniature Nazi helmet with alien graffiti all over it, and that was a very appropriate association in my opinion. I carefully placed the item in the bag, fulfilling part one of my mission.

Part two was the first part where I would expose myself to any real risk: Needing to make things happen covertly under Ministry sensors meant that my only assets were enchanted items and potions, as well as no major mistakes. I rose slightly from my crouch, so that my unseen head poked up over Martin's desk. He was still looking at the parchment, quite oblivious. Good; I needed him that way for a few more minutes. I carefully edged to the side of the desk, getting as close as I could. Careful to remain silent, I placed an open wide-bottomed vial of one of Snape's specialties by his feet, and scooted back, holding my nose closed.

One minute went past, then two. At almost exactly two and a half minutes of exposure to the vapors, Martin put his hand to his chest, looking as though he had trouble breathing. With a small spasm, his eyes closed and he unceremoniously dropped out of his chair, slumping to the floor. I quickly moved to stopper the vial, and then stepped back to wait for the vapors to dissipate.

It was something that Snape had created that I don't think any other Potions Master had developed: An odorless vapor that knocked you out just like a Stunner after 150 seconds of exposure, plus or minus a few seconds due to body weight and circulation. Not just knockout gas, folks, but knockout gas with a guarantee. You simply can't get that anywhere else.

I quickly went over to the now unconscious Martin and pulled his head back by the nose, opening his mouth and straightening his throat. I quickly unstoppered another potion --this one a Dumbledore special-- and dumped it down the man's esophagus.

While Martin digested that wonderful concoction, I yanked a couple of hairs from his head, and prepared my dose of Polyjuice. A moment of agony later and I was now a foot taller and quickly taking my too-small clothes off. Barely a minute later had a properly dressed Martin Langford walking down the hall with a smile, saying hello to everyone who greeted him. As Arthur had suggested, since I was biologically Martin Langford, and was well within my designated area of work, the Ministry sensors detected nothing to warrant a more thorough scan.

As Martin, I made my way to the lift, and took it to the Administrative level --another level that Martin had access to, at least as far as the records room. I quickly made my way there, and entered the room. Once again I approached the filing cabinets, but this time for more malicious intentions. I rummaged around for what I felt was a reasonable amount of time before I quickly located and removed each and every document I had placed in the room earlier. Naturally, the room logged Martin Langford as the one to remove the documents, which was the whole point of this exercise.

Before I left, I took out another of those Dark helmet-shaped items, and placed it in the center of the room. This one I activated, and then quickly left. I walked briskly away from the room, waving and smiling, but no longer talking. I'm sure I made people think I was nervous -- also part of the plan. It wouldn't take long to figure things out once that item did its job. In only a few minutes, the Administration level would be crawling with angry Dementors.

For all the pureblood wizards reading, find a muggle or muggleborn and ask about the movie Dune. Once you've seen the movie, you'll understand and rightfully cringe when I tell you that like sandworms to a thumper, Dementors rush to these contraptions, and they're right pissed when they get there.

I was both repulsed and excited at the thought that such a small device could bring such widespread devastation. Dumbledore was banking on the swift response of the Aurors to prevent casualties, and I fervently hoped that he was right. Having the deaths of innocent Ministry workers on my hands would bother me.

Well-- a little, anyways.

Taking the lift back to the DT, I went back to Martin's office and closed the door. I quickly pulled my cloak off of the unconscious Martin and downed a potion to nullify the Polyjuice, donning my cloak as I did. By the time I was no longer Martin, I was once again shielded. I quickly put my own clothes back on, and clothed Martin in his. I then nudged my magic into my muscles and lifted Martin back up into his chair, letting him slump forward onto his desk.

As I was stuffing the papers into his duffle bag, the Ministry alarms began to go off. I quickly finished doing up the bag, and cracked open the bottle of antidote to Snape's liquid Stupefy, waving it under the Martin's nose. As Martin began to snort and wake up, I capped the bottle, and stepped over to the door-

--which exploded, pieces flying everywhere as two Aurors burst into the room, wands out and pointing at the newly awake and terrified Martin. I threw myself to the side, narrowly avoiding contact with the nearest Auror. I hoped that he couldn't hear my breathing, or the fact that my heart was now hammering a mile a minute. Even though I knew it was possible that they could move that fast, and the plan virtually required it, it was still a very close call. The seconds stretched out to eternity as I waited sweat beginning to drip down my face as the Aurors swept the area with their wands. I felt their sensory magics brush across my cloak and my breath hitched, but the Aurors never paused in their sweep, and soon turned their full attention to Langford.

"I-I didn't do it! I didn't do anything! I swear!" he shouted, backing up against the wall. His voice wavered, though; mixed in with his memories were the memories embedded in Dumbledore's potion. They were weak things, like Hermione's simple charms to make those muggles believe they were her parents. Martin would certainly disregard them as false in time, but with nothing but unconsciousness to compare it against, the memories created doubt.

More importantly, the memories created enough mental discord that Martin would not be able to attest conclusively to his innocence under Veritaserum, and that, more than anything else, was the nail in his coffin.

As the Aurors advanced on him, I quietly walked out the now open doorway, carefully lifting my cloak around the debris. Once out of the office, I hurried to the stairs. Aurors would be locking down the upper levels as they would quickly be swarming with Dementors.

And they did; they swarmed straight through the Ministry's lack of solid warding, and incited terror throughout the Administration Level. If the DMLE wasn't just one floor away, it would have been a catastrophe. As it was, there would be people leaving work with nightmares for weeks.

But that was all on the upper levels. I wasn't heading up; I was heading down, back to the Atrium, where travel was possible, and no one would notice or care as a Dumbledore-made Portkey went off, taking me back to the safety of Grimmauld.

Mission Accomplished.

-----

"Well done, Harry!" Sirius said as he clapped my shoulder. "Way to prank the Minister! Here: Have some Dementors in your office! Yes!" His voice gave out to laughter, and Sirius lurched to the side, holding his middle. Remus was grinning a mile wide, his slightly pointy incisors showing, as he led Sirius over to a couch.

"Very good," Dumbledore said, nodding. "With that play set in motion, we will now be able to work toward generating the opening that we need. You have about twenty minutes to get something to eat if you wish, and then Fawkes will deliver you to the Hogwarts Express."

I nodded and unloaded the leftover potions from my robe, leaving them on the table. I took out my wand and ran cleaning charms up and down my tunic, trousers, and outer robes, and then my body itself, regaining something fairly close to that fresh-out-of-the-shower feeling I enjoyed so much. There were already a pile of sandwiches on the table, courtesy of Dobby, the timid house elf that the Parkinsons acquired with the Malfoy estate. The fact that Dobby had helped Hermione when we were trapped there made him great in my books, and he was slowly learning that his new family of wizards was not as strict and unforgiving as his old one.

I happily chatted with Dobby while I munched on his well-made sandwiches, covering such diverse and interesting topics as socks and why heavy dragon-leather robes are a house elf's worst nightmare to wash. Eventually, Fawkes appeared in the room with a flash, and I stood as he landed on my shoulder. I waved to Dobby, and disappeared in a roaring column of flame.

-----

When the fire died away, I was once again in the caboose of the Hogwarts Express. Fawkes quickly yanked me up off the floor as the quickly moving Express sent my feet flying forward, his wings flapping rapidly in front of my face. I was a very light weight to the powerful phoenix, and I never moved more than about five feet from the middle of the car as he brought me up to speed. Once we had more or less matched the speed of the train --something I'll bet no Express passenger had ever once considered necessary in their lives-- he let me drop to the floor. With a quick chirp to say goodbye, Fawkes once again disappeared into flames, on his way back to Dumbledore.

I quickly put my invisibility cloak on again, and after a quick check to ensure that no one was in the hallway, I opened the door and exited the caboose. I walked quickly over to my compartment and looked in. There I was, still fast asleep, Hermione snoozing beside me. The others were all talking or playing exploding snap. With a wave of my wand, the door to the compartment opened, and I quickly stepped in. Only Luna looked confused as the door had opened and closed without anyone actually being there. She looked even more confused as Pansy quickly pulled the window and door blinds while Ginny woke Hermione.

With a flourish, I whipped the cloak off and with a quick mutter of "Evanesco" my double was transfigured into equal parts oxygen, carbon dioxide and nitrogen. Everyone smirked at my use of that well-known and despised spell; it was Snape's favorite way of telling you that you'd messed a potion up beyond salvation. I quickly sat down where my double had been, and shoved my cloak into my book bag. The blinds went up, Hermione snuggled backup against me, and for all intents and purposes I had always been on the train, and had another three hours to make my rounds so that everyone could vouch for me.

Maybe later, I thought, mentally and physically exhausted from my Ministry adventure. It felt like a video game, really: In and out with no hesitation, just bang-bang-bang and you're done. Only when those Aurors came in did I feel the slightest bit afraid, and even then I knew that they weren't there for me. Could it have gone wrong?

Not really. Once I was sure that Dumbledore was right about the cloak, it was a walk in the park. Well, sort of.

Remembering where I was I forced everything out of my mind and began to drift off. I didn't need anyone asking questions, and looking anything but completely relaxed and content would be just the opening my friends needed to pounce on me. All they knew was that I was getting the ball rolling for dealing with Floo Network, and that was all they needed to know.

-----

As the Express slowed to a crawl in Hogsmeade station we quickly piled out and headed towards the carriages carving pathways through the evening mist that had gathered. Lantern lights from the station quickly faded into the mist, and several students lit their wand tips to maintain sight of the carriages. Hermione and I walked in comfortable silence, holding hands. The Weasleys and Pansy had fallen into discussing their course work for the coming year. Ginny and Luna didn't have a choice in their courses, but Fred, George and Pansy did. Naturally, History of Magic and Muggle Studies were the first courses to go. That left them with a discussion of what to take.

"Hogwarts requires at least five courses in any year," Pansy said. "So, if we drop Astronomy--"

"Don't," I interjected, raising my voice over Pansy's. I steered Hermione a little closer to the others to avoid the need to shout. Pansy and the twins looked at me curiously.

"I learned the hard way just how important Astronomy is to practically everything we do. You're going to need to know how to make adjustments to every spell, potion and item you ever create -- which is what I'm assuming you're all going for."

"That's the plan," George said, exchanging a glance with his brother.

"School's mostly boring stuff," Fred said, picking up from George. "But if we only take the practical courses--"

"Which are the only fun ones anyways," quipped George.

"And split the optional courses between us--" Fred said, indicating the two of them and Pansy.

"We'd have all the knowledge we need without the homework!" Pansy finished with a flourish of her arms.

"Exactly!" the twins said together.

"Oh, that's a wonderful idea," Ginny said sarcastically. "Between the three of you, you'll be able to do what Harry and Hermione can already do by themselves!"

"Oh, come on Gin!" Fred said, wrapping an arm around his sister. "Who wants to spend their entire evening doing homework? You don't, do you?"

George clapped an arm around Hermione. "And our other sister will back us up, right?" Hermione giggled, and Ginny was already smiling. The twins' good spirits and huge grins were infectious, and even if I had been in the happiest mood possible, they could probably cheer me further.

"It's actually not so bad an idea if you're all going to stick together," Hermione allowed after a moment of George's best puppy dog eyes. Three smiles greeted her in return.

"That's the idea," Pansy said happily. "Once we're done with these annoying classes, we can get around to setting up shop as enchanters."

The joke that I had on my tongue died away as we approached the carriages. Last year, there was nothing pulling them. This year, there were large bone-thin horses with enormous leathery wings and milky white eyes. The gasps that sounded from beside me told me that I wasn't the only one, either.

"Oh! Can you all see them now?" Luna asked, speaking for the first time since the train.

"These are Thestrals," I said, having finally dug up the right memory from my time helping Hagrid. "You need to have seen and accepted death for them to be visible. I forgot about them."

"The Burrow," Hermione whispered, a tear falling down her cheek. Ginny began to shake as she approached. Luna took her hand and squeezed it, and Ginny latched on to the small Ravenclaw with both arms, holding on for dear life. The twins hunched their shoulders and tucked their hands into their robes, staring at the ground as they walked.

The somber mood lasted the entire trip to Hogwarts, the soft trotting of the Thestrals bringing bitter memories to the forefront as sure as any Dementor could.

-----

"As Professor Lockheart's busy schedule has called him away, we have a new Defense against the Dark Arts professor. Please welcome Professor Remus Lupin to Hogwarts!"

That was about the only line I paid attention to as we sat at our tables. Hermione and Luna were on either side of me, and both demanded far more of my attention. Luna liked me a lot because I never questioned her talking about imaginary creatures, just smiled and asked questions.

Hermione and I... well, we just wanted to be alone with each other for awhile.

"Fred and George went ahead with their idea," Hermione said quietly to me. "Fred's taking Arithmancy, while George is taking Runes. I think that Pansy's sticking with Astronomy. All three dropped History and Muggle Studies."

"That sounds about right," I said between mouthfuls of food.

"Do you think that they're doing the right thing?" she asked, sounding more than a little concerned.

I grunted dismissively, and hastily swallowed my food. "Dumbledore will waive them into the Spell Creation NEWT for sure. They'll be great enchanters, especially if they go it together, and if they're looking at starting a business of their own, then even better."

"Well yes, but... what Ginny said…"

A wry grin began to form on my face. "Hermione, are you actually comparing them to us?"

"No! Well... yes, a little. I mean, if we're capable of so much, can't they at least take a few courses themselves?"

I snorted a little as I unsuccessfully tried to eat and laugh at the same time. I once again forced my food down, and looked back at Hermione. "Have I ever told you how much I hate school?"

"What? No, I thought you liked it."

"That's because of Dumbledore," I said, waving my hand. "My original plan was to coast through using my Occlumency, taking whatever courses I absolutely needed to land myself a decent job. Heck, I was even thinking of doing pro Quidditch, and I still might. If I hadn't been offered this short-cut, I'd never have taken all 12 courses.

"For Pansy and the twins going to class every day sucks, plain and simple. To make it ten times worse for them, no one besides me and you can use that little memory trick, and by the time they've learned it, they'll be well out of Hogwarts."

Hermione had her customary look of deep thought, which meant that she was still mulling over what I'd said about Occlumency. "But... I thought that memory augmentation was a natural part of Occlumency?"

I was already shaking my head. "Dumbledore pegs it as 'Intermediate' Occlumency," I said. "Basic Occlumency is strictly defense, and maybe a slightly sharper memory. What we're doing is way past the basics."

"Oh. But... you got your Occlumency from Voldemort. I didn't have that; I just thought that it was something I was supposed to learn. How did I learn to do it if it's so hard?"

"Because you're a genius," I said, getting a smile from her. "The only people besides us that can do that are Dumbledore and --I think-- Snape. Everyone else in the Order is just basic defense, if that." That smile was getting larger. If there's one thing that truly stroked Hermione's ego, it's telling her that she could do things that other people couldn't.

"Are you going to teach us Occlumency?" Luna asked, tugging at my sleeve.

"At least the basics; wait until our first session this year, and I'll explain more."

"Okay," she said, going back to her food. Strange, strange girl, I thought.

"I wonder why Professor Dumbledore doesn't at least try to teach students Occlumency," Hermione said, playing with a lock of her hair. I reached over to take it from her, making her blush a little.

"I asked him that last year," I said as I ran my fingers across her hair. "The very short version of his answer was that Hogwarts wasn't trying to make super-soldiers, and there's no need to pressure the students to learn any faster than they do. He figures since I came equipped and you're some kind of prodigy he may as well take advantage of it and teach us as much as he can, but to the rest of the world Occlumency is a decade's hard work and ultimately not worth it."

Hermione's eyes were glazed over, and she had a look of complete bliss on her face while I played with her hair. Anyone else would have needed me to repeat what I had said, but Hermione proved more than capable of surrendering to pleasure and participating in an intelligent conversation at the same time.

"It's interesting that he equates Occlumency with war training," she said, her fingers finding yet another lock of her hair to curl and twist. "I guess at its most basic level it is, but there's so much more that can be done with it."

"I think it's the 'decade' part that keeps it out of Hogwarts." A quick glance outside told me it was getting on in the evening, so I let Hermione's hair go and focused on finishing my dinner. Hermione let a sigh of frustration slip out, but she, too, quickly went to work on her plate.

"Mmm!" Hermione held up her finger to indicate she had thought of something, and quickly swallowed her food. "Do you know where Lockheart is going to?" she asked. "He came here for Professor Dumbledore, but is he finished, or did someone else need him?"

I shrugged, taking the time to chew my food properly. "Dumbledore didn't say. I figure that Lockheart's brand of damage control is in high demand. I'll ask later." Hermione seemed to be satisfied with that, so we once again attacked our dinner.

-----

All too quickly Hermione and I reprised our role as caretakers, and resumed our lessons with Dumbledore. Hermione was always present for the theory, but Dumbledore continued to coach me personally in the more physical areas, while Hermione was satisfied by my dueling instruction.

It's really a good thing that she didn't stay for it, because Oh God did Dumbledore turn up the difficulty that year.

Sweat poured from my head in tiny rivers as I forced every ounce of my being into my hex. A large cone of freezing air, well below arctic temperatures, rushed out from my wand's tip, meeting the hot flames of Dumbledore's Flame hex.

I was giving my hex everything I had, while Dumbledore was hardly trying. Whenever I felt I had an ounce more of effort to expend, I pushed it out, and the temperature of the hex lowered a degree or two. Dumbledore simply nudged his flames a little hotter. An enormous torrent of steam billowed out from where the spells met, coating us in moisture.

All too soon, my power gave out, and I collapsed to my knees, panting. Dumbledore quickly turned his wand to the side and banished the flames, and with two long sweeps of his wand the room was clear of moisture and back to room temperature. I barely had it in me to remove the water and sweat from my skin and robes, but somehow I managed that final spell before my fingers rebelled and wand dropped from my hand.

"Here Harry," Dumbledore said, pressing a warm cup into my shaking hands. The very familiar taste of Pepper-up Potion washed the taste of iron from my mouth. Immediately I felt physically reinvigorated; my magic would come back quickly enough, but I could do without the muscle aches and migraines, so the Pepper-up was welcome.

This spell-on-spell pissing contest was one of Dumbledore's little secrets to building magical endurance. The first time we tried this exercise I lasted less than a minute and was out of commission for hours. By my thirtieth attempt, I lasted about a minute and forty seconds, but I could get back into it after a half-hour's rest. This was the forty-third repetition, two weeks into school, and I could now last two and a half minutes against Dumbledore, and could go two or three rounds with only a couple minutes between them before I was well and truly depleted.

It helped in the power department a little, too; within those two weeks my average temperature with the freezing hex had fallen about ten degrees. Dumbledore smiled as I pointed that out to him.

"That isn't so much an increase in your power as it is your body adjusting to using your maximum power immediately and maintaining it over a long duration. The term you're looking for is 'efficiency,' I think."

I'm sure I had a reply to that, but Dumbledore moved quickly to calisthenics, and the pain drove all thought away.

-----

The classroom that Dumbledore had given us for dueling practice was coincidentally in a hallway that was an equally short distance from both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers, as well as close to a back stairway that led down to the Slytherin dungeons. It didn't take more than a couple of months for any student to get used to the ever-changing nature of Hogwarts, but my job as caretaker allowed me to see just how much Hogwarts changed, and how predictable the changes were. This room for instance was something we had used last year. This year, it so happens to be as close to each of our dorms as it can be and still be up on the classroom levels.

I had pretty much worked out that the castle could adapt within about three months to any persistent need. New hallways? No problem. Extra classrooms? Easily done. Extra public washroom facilities, fully enchanted? That one was easy; give it a week. Hogwarts was virtually alive, and the castle seemed to possess both intelligence and compassion. It wasn't hard to look out from Dumbledore's office windows, or the top of the Astronomy tower, and feel invincible.

As I promised Luna, I came to the first session prepared to begin Occlumency. Even the most basic training would work towards preventing another Burrow incident, and that was well worth the time invested. We started with a few practice duels, if only so I could see how their technique was improving.

Ginny seemed to hit her limits, which was a relief to the both of us. Like Pansy, she was a natural duelist: No hesitation and good instincts. Unlike Pansy, she couldn't just whip Reductors out like they were Stinging Hexes, so we worked on a more technical style, focusing on maintaining midrange and incorporating as much transfiguration as possible. Ginny had no issues with diving and rolling around on the floor, so she was the only one in the group that had begun to use deflectors more than shields.

Luna and Hermione dueled in a blur of curses and counter curses, each using a repertoire that would boggle the mind of even senior year students. Was I impressed? You bet. But it was hardly a useful dueling style, and the resident brains needed to learn how to use their brawn. I paired Hermione with Pansy and Luna with Ginny for the latter duels to give them a taste of exactly why variety and rapid exchange do not mix.

Pansy was by and large the dominant duelist in the group. While she used shields more often that I would have liked, her offensive spells came out with such speed and force that Fred and George, who usually double-teamed her, spent most of their time on the defensive. As the twins tended to use shields, Pansy tended to use the Reductor. This resulted in the twins being in a perpetual state of pain, which didn't help their dueling abilities. Once I had switched the girls and performed a few charms to dull the aching, I put the twins through their paces myself.

Fred and George were good, but they lacked the killer instinct that Pansy and Ginny had. That alone made them easy to deal with, even as a pair. They followed up on each other's spells flawlessly, but they just couldn't get into action fast enough to bother me. Even when I had them enhance their speed, they couldn't remove that split-second hesitation that made them so easy to read. After going a couple of rounds with them, I decided to get to the point of the session.

"Alright, now that you've got the spells and some experience using them under your belts, I can get to the more advanced stuff." Checking to see that I had everyone's attention, as well as satisfying my paranoia that I had no unexpected students, I spent a minute conjuring some rather ugly but very comfortable chairs. "Sorry about the chairs, but I'm no artist. You need to be fairly comfortable today, as we're going to go over Occlumency.

"That's right, sit and get comfortable. Now, Occlumency to you means protecting your mind from Legilimency, Confundus charms, memory charms, straight-up Obliviations, and the Imperius. If you're decent, no one can just casually come up to you and cast those spells, and that's what you want. You'll never be immune, but you want to make sure that someone has to fight to make anything work."

"Why doesn't the school teach this stuff?" Pansy asked, kicking her feet anxiously against the front of the chair. Fred and George looked interested in the answer to the question; Hermione was barely paying attention. Luna and Ginny seemed to be counting clouds out the window. Well, time for the long answer to this one.

"Dumbledore gave a larger speech, but I'll keep it simple: Occlumency fucks you up." There: Now everyone was paying full attention again.

"Occlumency is using your magic to literally re-wire your brain, and it makes you different. I can't tell you what I'd be like without it, because I've had it since I was one year old. Hermione's completely different than she used to be. Some of that is because of a change in situation, but a lot of it is because of Occlumency. Each of you will change a bit, because you're taking conscious control of your emotions and thinking processes.

"It probably won't be too drastic, but I want you all to realize that you'll never feel an emotion you didn't consciously allow, it'll be harder to forget things, and you'll probably notice details and nuances that you might not have earlier. Occlumency requires patience and hours of meditation, and I think that for some of you cooling your hot heads will make you seem different on its own. People will notice, and wonder what's wrong. You'll have to brush up on your acting skills if you want to pull off being 'normal.' This is the price you pay to defend your mind. Are there any serious concerns or questions? Anyone not want to learn this?

"Good. Okay. First, let's work on blanking out your mind..."

-----

Speaking of Occlumency…

"Legilimens!" Meaningless patterns of thought rolled through my mind, but nothing concrete came up.

"Imperio!" A compulsion slid past me like standing in a river. The urge was there, like a craving for ice cream, but it was hardly overpowering.

"Obliviate!" Whoa... That spell left me feeling slightly drunk, but in full possession of my memories.

"Well done Harry," Dumbledore said as he lowered his wand. "You are definitely on your way to mastering the art. Very soon I will have to stun you to produce any meaningful effect."

"Thanks sir," I said as I slid into a chair, waving my wand in the formation of a charm designed to banish headaches. "Are you taking it easy on me?"

"Not at all!" he said with a smile as he sat on his desk. "I'll grant you that the searches, commands and alterations are trivial, but it's not the specifics of the intrusion that matter; the intrusion itself was full-force, and you seem to be reasonably resistant."

"Are you saying the spells just because we're practicing, or do they have to be vocalized?"

"The Imperius you already know the answer to; Obliviation can be silent, but requires anywhere from several moments to several hours depending on what you are attempting to do, and will be resistedevery step of the way; Legilimency can and does occur consistently with practice, just like Occlumency. So the answer to your unspoken question is that only Legilimency will be used with any success during a duel, and it's mostly used in anticipating your opponent's moves.

"So I'm pretty solid against it, then?" I asked with a smile.

"I daresay that it's the only reason that you fared as well as you did against Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort. Passive Legilimency is exactly that: Passive. Your defenses are far too strong for that to succeed."

"That's good to hear. Are you going to test Hermione?"

"No, I will not," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "Hermione needs more time and practice with Occlumency before I attempt it. She doesn't have the raw power that you do to throw behind her defenses."

"Does it really matter?" I asked, slightly irritated at Dumbledore's dismissal of Hermione's ability.

"Yes it does," he said firmly, a burst of white-hot flame erupting from his wand, reminding me of his first example so long ago. "You are becoming comfortable with your level of ability, but it would behoove you to remember that you are unique amongst your peers in that ability. I need you to understand and accept that it will take your friends close to two decades to reach your level at the fastest possible rate. By then, you will be well beyond where you are now, though you'll find much less discrepancy between your friends' overall capabilities and your own."

"I..."

"It isn't fair, I know, but I need you to accept it." This was getting me nowhere, so I just nodded, and changed the subject.

"What happened to Lockheart, sir? I thought you'd asked him to be here?"

"I sent him away," Dumbledore said plainly. "It would not do to tempt fate, and risk losing his services to the League."

"Huh?" was about all I could manage in my confusion. Thankfully Dumbledore chose to elaborate.

"If you look through the history books, you will notice that no Defense professor has ever stayed on more than one year since the '50's. In the first few of those years every professor was either killed or driven out of the school by scandal. In desperation I began to cycle the professors through different teaching positions; I taught the first set of Defense classes personally. My intent was to never allow the same person to occupy the Defense position for more than one year at a time. Though it left me with almost no time to myself, to my great relief it worked. I continued to teach and cycle professors through positions until your first year. Not only did I wish to free up my daily time to see to you, but also to fight the necessary Ministry battles that would come as a result of your return to wizarding Britain. Quirrel had also come along; he had seemed a perfect addition to the staff, and was certainly knowledgeable enough to fit into the cycling process."

"So there's some kind of curse on the position?" I asked, thinking it more than a little strange.

"The look you have on your face was one that I had early on," he said nodding. "The first five fatalities convinced me of the potency of this 'curse.' To this day I am unwilling to allow a professor to teach Defense for more than one year at a time."

"And Lockheart…?"

"Lockheart's skills and cover stories are needed elsewhere just as much as they were needed here. We will manage, and I can always bring him back next year if I have to, but Remus is an intelligent man. If we can keep his status as a werewolf quiet, then the position is well-filled."

-----

I came back to the common room to find an overly anxious Hermione nearly bouncing on the couch. Within two seconds of her seeing me she was over to me tugging on my arm. "Come on Harry! It's almost time to go!"

"Go?" I asked, more than a little tired from Dumbledore poking mystical holes in my head.

"Hogsmeade, silly! Come on, everyone's getting ready to leave!" Oh, right. It's a Saturday.

"'Kay, 'kay. Lemme get my stuff."

"Hurry! It's almost time to leave!"

Blasted woman...

I climbed back up to my dorm room and switched from my black school robes to a dark green tunic with gold highlights, black trousers and boots, and a brown outer robe with my family name and crest in gold trim. It was by far my favorite set of robes, and if I wasn't trapped in black today, I was certainly going to wear it. A quick charm dropped my hair from mussed up to somewhat normal looking, and I fumbled around in my trunk for my gold pouch. Satisfied that I was well-dressed, I headed back down.

"Alright, let's go," I said when I got back to the common room. Hermione turned to look at me, and with a little gasp said "Wait just a minute! If you're going to change so am I!"

With a sigh, I settled into a chair for a few minutes of waiting. Hermione is a girl, after all; magic notwithstanding, girls take their sweet time getting ready. An unsurprising 15 minutes later, Hermione came back down in a light blue blouse and skirt with a tan outer robe, all with silver trim. The only indication that these robes were for daily wear was a pair of tan leather boots that hugged her calves. She put her hair in some elaborate type of braid that I couldn't place properly, and had a big smile on her face.

Grunting as I hefted myself out of the chair, I stood and walked over. I took her had and kissed it gently before holding it to my face. "I'm so sorry," I said with only a hint of sarcasm. "I had completely misunderstood the fact that you wanted to go out on a date. You're absolutely right, though; a trip through a town that will be crawling with kids wanting candy generating all sorts of annoying noise and interruptions will be the perfect place for that."

"Arse," Hermione said as she pulled her hand away and pushed me backwards. We made our way down from Ravenclaw Tower to the main gates, drawing a fair amount of attention at our decision not to go in school robes. It wasn't against the rules, though, and McGonagall smiled benignly at us as we passed. Dumbledore was also at the door overseeing the grand exodus, and he beckoned me over to him.

"The Order is well-entrenched in Hogsmeade," he whispered. "Nevertheless, please watch over the students close to you. If you have a moment, check in with Alastor at the Hog's Head Inn. He may or may not have seen anything interesting."

I nodded and walked back to Hermione, taking her hand. Most of the students were heading over to the carriages, which were the preferred method of transportation to Hogsmeade. That was the direction we were headed, but Hagrid had other ideas, and waved us over to where he was standing with two unharnessed Thestrals.

"Been waitin' fer yeh," he said as we got closer. "After everythin' last year, I bet yeh can see these beauties, righ'? Well, I have a couple extras here that don' generally get a chance to pull a carriage. Yeh can see'em, so they'll let yeh ride. Yeh figger yeh can ride 'em into town?"

"Ride...?" Hermione said, looking quite unenthusiastic as she approached the horses.

"I've never ridden before," I said to Hagrid. "Doesn't it take a bit of skill to do that?"

"Nah, these guys're real smart; jes' tell'em that yeh want to go down ter Hogsmeade and they'll get yeh there."

Hermione looked uncertain, but I was all for the experience. "Sure, why not? How do you get on?"

At Hagrid's coaxing, we each approached the Thestrals from the front, and let them sniff around us. My Thestral must have decided that I tasted good, as it proceeded to lick my face. Unlike the stink and slime I expected though, the Thestral's tongue was leathery and odorless, almost as if the flesh wasn't really alive. I hesitantly stroked my hand across its face and it butted forward gently, pushing its head against me. Then it walked forward and put its head right over my shoulder. A glance to the side told me that Hermione had undergone the same initiation, and just like me she was currently the recipient of a Thestral's idea of a hug.

The Thestrals kneeled down, making it effortless to mount them. The Thestral looked over its shoulder at me, as if waiting for instructions. "We're going to Hogsmeade," I said. "Is that okay with you?" The fanged horse shook its mane and stood, and began to move forward. A short shriek behind me announced that Hermione's steed was following mine. They walked away from the carriages at a brisk pace. The other students stared at us in awe, as we rode away on invisible horses. A mystery of Hogwarts had been solved for this generation of students, and in its place was something even cooler: Invisible Horses.

Those few students that could see what we were really riding were wearing expressions of sadness. They would have known that Thestrals would only allow those with direct experience of death to ride them.

The Thestrals picked up speed, from a trot to a full gallop. I had my hands in my horse's mane, and my legs hooked around the shoulders of its wings. The muscles that powered those wings gave the Thestral a broad back, and sitting up near its shoulders was nearly as stable as a saddle on its own. I instinctively crouched down and put my head near its neck, just as I would for a broom that was picking up speed. Apparently that was what the Thestral was waiting for, as its wings began to beat from behind my legs, and in less than two strides we were airborne.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked from behind me. I looked back to find that Hermione's Thestral had followed suit, and she was looking at the rapidly receding ground, thoroughly petrified.

"Crouch over the neck and hold on to the mane!" I shouted to her. "Stay near to them, please," I whispered to my steed.

My concern for Hermione was muted by the view I was privy to. The landscape was breathtaking; rolling green hills that surrounded the loch whose shore Hogwarts was built on. To the south and west a massive, seemingly endless forest sprawled across the land. I had seen this all before when I was up on my broom, but it was a completely different feeling when I wasn't busy flying. As a passenger I had time to look and be impressed. Looking over my shoulder I could see Hermione with her head buried in her Thestral's mane. Hopefully I could convince her to look around on the way back.

For all its beauty, the flight was short. We arrived in Hogsmeade in about 5 minutes, well before the carriages would get there. I jumped off and hit the ground shakily, and faced my Thestral again. "You'll both wait for us, won't you?" After another lick and 'hug,' I walked over to Hermione's steed as she was struggling to get off. The Thestral made things easier by kneeling, and Hermione quickly jumped off and fell to her knees. I helped her up, and she clung to me shivering.

"Th-that was the s-scariest thing I-I've ever done. We're taking the carriages on the way back!"

"Not a chance!" I said with a huge grin on my face. "That had to be the most fun I've had in ages! You have to take the trip back with them. This time, if you hold your head up, you'll see the most beautiful view."

"You think I care about the view?" she asked incredulously. "That... That was..."

"Be nice," I said, silencing the rest of her complaints. "Say goodbye to your Thestral, and ask it to wait for you."

"Um... Well..." Hermione approached her Thestral's head again, and was immediately attacked by a leathery tongue. The Thestral then clamped its head around Hermione's shoulder, and puller her in close. It didn't look like it was going to let her go. Its front legs were stomping like a petulant child.

"See, Hermione? It likes you. You can't hurt its feelings by not riding back, can you? Come on." Hermione slowly put her hands around the Thestral's head and neck, patting it uncertainly.

"Um... It's alright, I'll be back... If you wait for me, I'll ride back with you. It's okay..." After several moments of Hermione comforting it, the Thestral calmed down enough to let her go, after once again attacking her face with its tongue. She came over to me and took my hand, her brow creased in thought.

"They're... nearly human in their intelligence," she said eventually. "Why do they let us ride them? They don't have to."

"If we were in the muggle world and I had a car, wouldn't I give you a ride?" I asked, squeezing her hand.

"Well, yes, but... how can we be sure that they want to do it?"

I stopped and hung my head over her shoulder. "If I do that to you, does it make you think I like you, or hate you?"

"It makes me think you're being lazy," she said with a laugh as she pushed me off. "I guess so; it would be easier if all these creatures spoke like we did, or had a language we could learn or speak."

"Come on!" I said, taking her hand again and pulling her along. "We have a village to explore! Let's see what's here."

-----

Aside from the candy store, joke shop, and the Three Broomsticks, which was the children-friendly tavern and eatery, Hogsmeade was its own small town. Being isolated allowed wizards to flex their creative muscles, and houses existed that were molded entirely from a single stone, or grown from a tree. Most houses were of the more standard varieties, but it was obvious who was good with Transfiguration or Conjury.

There were small shops that covered the basics. School supplies were their most popular items to sell, but you could buy robes, jewelry, potions supplies, household trinkets, or pretty much anything else you wanted, if you knew where to look. Diagon Alley had more to offer, but Hogsmeade was well-stocked with the basics.

Hermione naturally gravitated to the book store, and I happily obliged her. We spent the next two hours 'skimming' through books page by page, committing to memory as much information as we could without actually having to buy the books. Hermione had been somewhere between amused and scandalized at plundering knowledge like this, but the gain was far too tempting for her to resist.

At my urging, we went to the Hog's Head Inn before we settled down for lunch. The Inn itself was dark and gloomy, perfect for those who wanted to conduct shady business. There would be no such business today, though. Regardless of what he wore, the glow of the bright blue eye of Alastor Moody was unmistakable, and everyone in the pub was as well-behaved as they could possibly be. I noticed him immediately, and we made our way across the room to him.

"Mr. Potter," said a gruff voice behind me. I turned to see a rougher version of Albus Dumbledore: No glasses, plain robes, scruffier hair and beard, but the same unmistakable blue eyes. He had his hand out to me, and a small smile on his face.

"Mr. ... Dumbledore, I think?"

"Very good. I am Aberforth Dumbledore, Albus' brother. Welcome to my Inn." I shook the offered hand, and gestured to Hermione.

"This is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger."

"Pleased to meet you," she said, taking Aberforth's hand.

"Charmed. I gather you're both here to see Moody, so I'll let you get to it. If there's anything you need in Hogsmeade, let me know, and I can probably make it easier to get." With that, Aberforth walked beck to the bar, favoring his left leg slightly.

"Good that you met Abe," Moody said as we sat at the table. "Hogsmeade doesn't have an official leader, but Abe's as close to a mayor as this town has."

"Cool," I said, leaning my chair on its back legs. "Anything interesting show up?"

"Nah, it's quiet." Moody paused to take a swig from his flask, and covertly placing a perimeter of silence around us. "I'd say it was too quiet, except that I know where the bastards are working. Fifteen new adjustments to the Floo network in this town alone Potter. That's fifteen back doors; fifteen families --or more-- that could already be enemies."

"Is there a way to adjust the Floo network from the outside?" Hermione asked, leaning in as she spoke.

"Nope, can't happen without being at the control station. Speaking of which, good work Potter, everything went smashingly and we're set to move into place; just waiting on the bureaucracy now."

"Thanks," I said. Hermione shot me a look of curiosity, but remained silent. Moody fished around in his robe for a moment before pulling out a handful of small wooden balls as well as a crumpled piece of parchment.

"I want you to toss these into the Floo connection at the Three Broomsticks. The destination doesn't matter, but be discreet."

"No problem," I said as I snatched up the items. Moody removed the silence charm, and the conversation quickly turned to the wards around Hogwarts, with Moody making some rather blatant mistakes that I didn't try to correct. Hermione picked up on that very quickly, and seconded the information. Good girl.

On our way out, Hermione slowed our pace towards the Three Broomsticks. "Do you know what those things that Moody gave you are?" she asked quietly.

"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "Don't want to, either."

"Aren't you worried at all about what you're going to do, then?" Time to avoid that question.

"Moody is closer to Dumbledore than I am. If I can't trust Moody, I'm well and truly fucked."

"Harry--"

"Later," I whispered. "Much later, back in school, and preferably in Dumbledore's office." Hermione closed her mouth, swallowing whatever she was about to say. The rest of our trip to the Three Broomsticks was silent.

Finding a moment alone with the Floo was as simple as the Repulsion charm I generally used in the common room. Very shortly, no one was looking or caring about the Floo except me and Hermione. With a flick of the wrist and an intonation of "Diagon Alley" Moody's balls were on their way to their new owners.

I chuckled a little, a completely inappropriate vision of Moody's testicles dancing around the floo pathways coming to mind. Pity the person that gets THAT present.

Finding us both a table near the front of the building, I cancelled the Repulsion charm, and ordered lunch. Hermione was quiet, which meant that she was unhappy. I took both her hands in mine, and squeezed, getting a ghost of a smile for my efforts.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean for this trip to be a business trip. I wanted it to be an adventure, kind of like it started out."

"It's been fun," she replied quietly. "I enjoy spending time with you. But it's like there's two of you. There's the Harry I know..."

"... and there's Agent Harry Potter," I finished. "Yeah, I feel the same. We'll talk tonight, I promise. Please smile for me; I want to you enjoy yourself."

That won a larger smile; it stayed as we ate, and then walked around the village.

-----

Hermione was a little shaky as she dismounted her Thestral close to the castle. Flying just didn't come naturally to her, though she did keep her head up on the trip back. We wasted very little time making our way to Dumbledore's office, intent on a conversation that we had delayed for the entire afternoon.

"I think a different location is in order," Dumbledore said after he took a look at us. "Please remain through the evening as I intend to run a meeting tonight. We'll make sure you return before students are up and about in the morning." Five seconds later, we took a smooth Portkey ride to Grimmauld's living room.

"So, I ruined a man's life on September 1st," I said casually as I dropped onto a couch. Hermione blinked a few times and sat more elegantly next to me. I proceeded to relate my Ministry excursion to her in general terms, my hands going a mile a minute as I spoke.

"Well, it sounds like a very well-orchestrated frame job," she said when I had finished. "I don't understand what's got you worried about it, though. If this Langford is willing to help Voldemort, then he deserves what he gets."

I nodded. "Sure, if that's the case. But I don't think it is." Hermione frowned at the smile on my face, which must have been fairly self-depreciating.

"I don't understand," she said with a shake of her head. I think that she was getting the idea, though. I saw the tiny worry lines begin to form around her eyes and eyebrows, and her eyes widened a little.

"I think you do," I said as I leaned forward, the smile still etched in place. "Martin Langford was an innocent law abiding citizen, and I ruined him with the help of Dumbledore, Moody and Snape. There is absolutely no way that Dumbledore would send me untested against a more serious threat."

"Why?" she asked with a whisper, reaching for my hands with hers. To support me, I realized when she took hold. Her hands weren't shaky or making the little circles that a concerned girlfriend might make; they were strong and massaged the tops of my hands in long comforting strokes. I had suspected that Hermione would support me through anything, but it was a very comforting feeling to have proof; so comforting, in fact, that I lost myself in the feeling and missed her question.

"Why?" she asked again, and I closed my hands around hers to convey that I had heard her.

"I guess... well, Dumbledore would tell me that the sacrifice is worth it to get access to the Floo Network. Moody would tell me that whatever happens to Langford is nothing compared to what would happen to him if he really was involved with the Death Eaters. Snape... well, Snape would probably berate me for even caring."

"And you?"

"I enjoyed it." My smile was bordering on maniacal, and I leaned in towards Hermione. "I really enjoyed the rush of adrenaline, especially when the Aurors were so close. It was just like the Burrow all over again, when I escaped the basilisk on my broom. It didn't matter to me that I had hurt someone in the process, it just felt... good."

"Kind of like when you ran off to fight Quirrel?"

Exactly right, Hermione; exactly right. I nodded, not really having anything more to say on the matter.

"It's alright, Harry. I'm not going anywhere." We sat in silence as I exulted in the feeling of comfort, and Hermione seemed to want to knead the bones out of my hands. I had expected a few more questions, but apparently I had needed to vent and be reassured, rather than do any reassuring myself.

"Can I ask you about something different?" Hermione asked, squirming around in the seat to get comfortable.

"Sure," I said with a shrug. "What's on your mind?"

"Does Dumbledore... like me? He seems to be a little distant during our sessions."

"He likes you just fine," I said, leaning back into the couch. "He's just a little frustrated that he has to stick to theory with you.

"Don't say it around him, but I think he's gotten used to me as a sparring partner and sort-of staff member. He can't do that with you to the same degree, so he has to tone it down."

"And he thinks this is a problem?" she asked, her tone making it plain that she was gearing up to take great offense. I thought this rather humorous of course.

"Absolutely!" I said starting to laugh. "Dumbledore loves to show off! He can't do that around you as easily, so he's miffed!"

"Oh!" Anything she might have said was gone with that. It just wasn't possible for her to take offense to the idea that Dumbledore wanted to teach her more than he was. If anything, that probably won Dumbledore a few points.

"Well, is there some way I can catch up, or something?" Her question trailed off as I was already shaking my head.

"It'll take you about twenty years to reach my power level, and that's with you pushing for it all the way, so it'll be about ten years at least before you can cast some of the stuff Dumbledore's teaching me, and even I'm decades away from being able to use his top-gear spells."

"I really hate waiting."

"I hadn't noticed," I said innocently, which caused her to giggle.

After a moment of silence in which Hermione leaned into me and all but demanded that I stroke her hair, the subject was changed yet again.

"What do you see yourself doing after school?" she asked, half-asleep from my ministrations.

"Be something other than a caretaker," I said, eliciting ringing laughter from my girlfriend. She reached back with her arm and tickled my knees, making me yelp and shuffle my legs around. I responded as all boys do by tickling her sides. Soon, it was an all-out war to see who would be first to get to the other's feet.

I won.

"Seriously," she said as we both righted ourselves and she brought her laughter under control. "Have you considered what you're going to take for NEWTs?"

"Well, let's see," I said, counting off on my fingers. "I can pass Conjury in my sleep; I'm far enough into Spell Creation that I may as well finish off the exam material; Dumbledore will have me well past Hit Wizard training, so the rest of Survival and Magical Conflict should be a joke; I need serious work to manage Wards and Spell Placement, but I know the basics; with all the unofficial rules and shortcuts from Snape and Dumbledore, Alchemy should be easy; and I don't think I can live close to Pansy and not be able to pass Item Enchantment. That's the whole list of standardized NEWTs.

"If I do a Magical Study on Internal magics, a generalized Cultural Study, and a generalized Geographical Study, then I'll grab a NEWT in all three thesis areas."

"You're going for nine NEWTs?" I could hear the awe in Hermione's voice. It told me that even she hadn't wanted to be as ambitious as that.

"Sure, why not? It keeps all my doors open from a professional standpoint, and 12 OWLs and 9 NEWTs would tell the world that I have at least pre-professional competency in every major magical area and a broad understanding of the magical world."

"And being so closely linked to Dumbledore…" Hermione trailed off as her eyes lit with the ambition that had been absent since her first year.

"Harry, if I try for the same thing, will you help me? I… I'd like to have that kind of accomplishment under my belt, but I don't think I can do all that without help."

"Think I could?" I said with a chuckle. "We'll get each other through it. Maybe we'll break a record or something."

Hermione smiled and bent her head back across my chest. I lowered my face to kiss her, and she pressed up to deepen it. At some point her hands made it into my hair, and mine were trailing across her body and down her thighs. The next thing I thought about was that it was incredible that she could turn right around and straddle me without falling, and that fingernails down the back was an amazing feeling, nearly as intoxicating as a rather well-endowed girl pressing into your front and devouring your lips as you tried to devour hers.

Then her magic trickled to the surface, coursing across her skin and arcing across mine like an electric field. I brought my own magic to the surface, and heard Hermione's gasp and moan. We stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, rocking against each other, our magic pouring across our bodies in waves. I have no doubt whatsoever that we would have ended up naked and making love, but Hermione still wasn't used to using her magic unfocused, and so she wasn't prepared for the drain it would cause. After five minutes of this most indescribably erotic sensation, Hermione collapsed against my shoulder exhausted, and quickly fell asleep as I rocked her.

I carried Hermione to her bed, and the rest of our time at Grimmauld was spent with Hermione asleep and Sirius telling me stories of my parents. While Sirius talked, I gathered what few thoughts I had for the inevitable conversation with Hermione on what had just happened, and how she felt about it. I knew that she would notice the one thing that marked this event as truly terrifying for both of us: It was the first time in years that either of us had lost control.

-----

"My son has secured the vacant Specialist position for the Floo Network," Elphias said as we started the Order meeting in Grimmauld's kitchen. "He's in and not being monitored as far as he can tell."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, a smile playing on his lips. "And Langford?"

"Convicted," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the Aurors in the Order. "His sentencing, naturally, is suspended pending further debate.

"Thanks for the donation, Harry," he said, smiling at me.

A knowing grin passed between me and my adopted father. "Anytime," I answered, getting chuckles from around the table.

Dumbledore coughed, drawing everyone's attention again. "Very good. Alastor, how goes the tracking of the network?"

"Poorly," the aged Auror grunted. "But it's a start. I have a couple of locations to look into, and time will tell if they've got two or twenty."

"It's as good as we can expect," Dumbledore said. "Anyone else?"

"I have been approached by Rabastan Lestrange with 5000 galleons and a very lengthy order of medicinal potions, as well as… others," Snape said quietly. Conversation ground to a halt as everyone stopped and stared open-mouthed at the Potions Master.

"They still trust you?" Moody said incredulously. "I can't believe it!"

"We still have a spy!" Arthur said exuberantly. I caught Snape's wince at that comment; apparently he wasn't looking forward to 'returning to duty.'

"We will take that as it comes," Dumbledore said with an air of finality, preventing any debate. "Severus, can you complete the order?"

"It will take time," he said, "but it's not impossible. The faster I finish, the more likely they will believe me still loyal to the cause."

"I'll help if you want," I offered, and Snape nodded immediately.

"That would cut the time down immensely."

"Done and done," Dumbledore said, moving us along. "Alright then, I'll likely have new assignments for you all shortly; Moody, keep monitoring. Severus, please probe the student body gently; we'll need to know who to pass information through.

"Harry, come with me; it's time to plan your meeting with Minister Fudge."