Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related terms and characters are the property of JK Rowling. The use of copyrighted material is for non-profit entertainment purposes only, and in no way constitutes a challenge to the existing copyright.

A/N: There are a few answers to questions in this chapter, as well as a little more light on what internal factions exist within the Order. I think that everything is set out properly, though, and I certainly enjoyed writing it. As usual, please direct any comments or questions can to me in either reviews or private messaging. I promise to respond to anything longer than three or four words.

YEAR 3: The Year of the Serpent - Winter

===============================

"Harry, can we talk?" Hermione's anxious voice shattered the blissful silence. Not five minutes after Dumbledore had finished with me, and Hermione had come looking for me.

"Give me a moment to sort my head out," I said, keeping my eyes closed. Dumbledore had left me in one of Grimmauld's numerous sitting rooms, and I savoured the darkness that I found behind my eyelids. Dumbledore's plans were complicated and riddled with tight timelines; it was unsurprising that I had quite the headache when he had finished speaking.

"Take your time," Hermione said. I sorted the plan out as best as I could, and then shoved it all back into my subconscious to deal with later. Opening my eyes, I was surprised to see that the light was out. The pale moonlight of early evening mixed with the artificial glow of the street lamp, bathing the room in a peculiar mixture of silver and yellow.

Hermione walked over to the small table I was sitting by, and took the chair on the opposite side. Her hair was in complete disarray and her robes were still creased and wrinkled from sleeping in them, but her eyes were bright and aware, and they had locked with mine the moment I had looked at her.

"I'm done," I said as I straightened my chair to face her more directly. "I'm all yours."

"Do you know what happened to us earlier?" Straight to the point, huh? Obviously not happy about it.

"Not in the slightest," I said honestly. "Best I can figure is that your magic came up unconsciously. I brought mine up because I didn't know what you were doing, and when they joined… well, you know."

Hermione looked down at the table. "I know more about it. I brought my magic up… because I was scared."

I was shocked. What the hell? "Scared? Of me, or…"

"No, scared of where we were going. I brought it up because I didn't know if I could stop you without it."

"You could have just said…" The shock quickly faded, and a great wave of anger began to roll. Calm; keep calm, and ride out the conversation.

"I know. I didn't want to stop kissing you, just… still your hands a little."

"Okay…"

Hermione had a ghost of a smile on her face as she spoke. "I'm not really upset, more like embarrassed. I can think of so many ways that we could have avoided that."

I couldn't help but comment on that. "I hope you don't think poorly of me if I say I'm rather glad it happened. That was… something else."

Her smile regained some of its humour, and she looked back up at me. "Yes, it was. I guess I don't mind that it's happened either, but I'm not anxious to do it again, at least not yet."

"That's fine," I said, reaching for her hand. "I can revel in that memory night after night if I want, at no further cost to you." She blushed at my insinuation, but she was nodding nonetheless.

"Thanks Harry. I'm going to get ready so we can get back to school." She stood and kissed me, though it was chaste compared to what we'd experienced earlier in the night. She left with a smile, and I smiled back.

Oh fuck, I was angry. Very, very angry.

I wasn't angry at her caution about physical intimacy; Hermione wanting to take it slow was no huge surprise to me. I didn't particularly want to speed things up either. No, I was angry because of the cause of it all. Hermione said that she had brought her magic up in case she had needed it to deal with me.

To me, this was a half step away from her actually bringing her wand to bear. A magically enhanced Hermione would be more than capable of snapping my neck if I wasn't ready -and I certainly hadn't been. The notion that she had willingly charged her body with the intent to use it against me made me both livid and a little nauseous.

I was sure that she hadn't understood how I would take her admission, which was why I was quickly forcing my anger down and away. Down and down, more than a decade into my psyche's records, buried with my childhood.

This was the second time Hermione had nearly used magic against me. First was when I confronted her about her parents; now this. I would forgive her, of course; I already had. I recognized that this issue was more my paranoia than Hermione's mistake, but it was there, and I needed her to respect it.

If she does this again, that's it, I thought heatedly. Just once more and I start looking for a new girlfriend.

That, too, I buried. There was no point bringing it up or handing out ultimatums. It would only anger her and complicate matters further. I'd deal with the issue more discretely, and hope for the best.

With a long sigh, I pushed myself out of the chair, and headed back downstairs. I had just less than a month to prepare myself for meeting Minister Fudge, and considering what was at stake, I wanted to have as much foreknowledge as I could. For that foreknowledge, I needed to talk to Arthur Weasley.

-----

"It's not as if I talked to him on a daily basis," Arthur said as he nursed a glass of wine in the living room. "The Minister did meet with Department heads and division heads rather often, though. My division is a part of the DMLE, so I saw him a little more often than some other divisional heads might."

"Out of curiosity, Mr. Weasley, what divisions are there in the DMLE?"

Arthur stopped to swallow a mouthful of wine, and continued. "Well, there's the Aurors naturally. There's also the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, which are your Hit Wizard reserves and other volunteer professionals such as Healers. That division is quiet now; we haven't called up the Hit Wizards for anything but their mandatory training for years now.

"There's the Improper Use of Magic division, which deals with the legal side of using magic while underage, in front of muggles, and so forth."

"Yeah, they're useful," I muttered. Arthur smiled and chuckled at what must have been a department joke.

"I know that you've gotten away with underage magic quite a bit, but it's kind of like what I've noticed with muggles and their 'speeding tickets.' You don't catch everyone, just enough that the rest of the community doesn't overdo it. Besides, they definitely concentrate more on the 'magic in front of muggles' part of their job.

"Moving on, the Wizengamot has their administration offices in the DMLE, but they're not really a division; they're kind of like their own department.

"And finally, there's my division, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. I deal mostly with preventing enchanted muggle items from leaking into the muggle world, and from dangerous muggle technology from entering the wizarding world. It's an interesting job, that's for sure."

"I'm sure it is," I said, keeping my face both neutral and interested. Here in front of me was a man I did not want to advertise to about the existence of my pistol. I'd better tell Hermione to keep a low profile on hers, too.

I thought it best to change the topic quickly. "Getting back to the Minister, what can you tell me about his attitude, or what he likes or doesn't like?"

Arthur rubbed his face and sat back, which was his 'deep thought' ritual. "Well, he enjoys his position, that's for sure. Anything you say or do that makes him look better he'll appreciate. He's also a smart man, and if you scratch his back, you won't have to ask him to scratch yours. He'll figure out something that you want and give it to you with a smile. It's the one thing that he's good at: He pays his debts quickly an in useful ways, no matter how small the debt."

"That's interesting," I said, thinking. That could be very useful to me. "Thanks for the information, Mr. Weasley. I'll probably have more questions later."

"Anytime Harry," he said, settling into his chair and summoning a copy of the Daily Prophet. I headed back upstairs to Hermione to pass along the information. I came to an abrupt halt, however, when Snape's dark form emerged from the shadows of the second floor.

"Weasley has failed to tell you something that you will find useful," he whispered to me, leaning in close. "The position of Minister still maintains many executive authorities that it was given by the Wizengamot during the first war with the Dark Lord. There is virtually nothing that Fudge cannot legally decree on his own, and if you gain his favour, you can ask for nearly anything your heart desires." With a wicked grin, Snape fell back into the shadows… and melted into them.

It struck me consciously for the first time that Snape was probably closer to Voldemort in ability than any other Order member except Dumbledore. Even Alastor Moody couldn't pull stealth magics that gracefully. Something about the way Snape used his magic reminded me of my encounter with Bellatrix. I didn't know about the rest of the Order, but my concerns about Snape's capability of being a spy had just evaporated.

I filed the information away with the rest, and banished the ghastly memory of Snape's pale face, greasy long hair, yellow teeth, and bitter odour from my mind. Having that man within two inches of your face was a small nightmare in and of itself. Seriously, just a few simple charms, and he'd look and smell just fine.

Ah well, I thought. The muggles had Einstein, and we have Snape.

-----

Helping Snape brew potions was nothing more strenuous than what we had accomplished together over the summer. While Snape was never friendly to me, we established a very efficient working relationship. I quietly helped him nearly every evening, and it got to the point where we would both have ingredients prepared before the other needed it, and any special apparatus set up before it was ever requested.

Every now and again, Snape would make an offhand comment about potions or Alchemy that I filed away in my head. While Snape's shortcuts might lose me marks on the Potions OWL or Alchemy NEWT, they would allow me to create some potions faster, some stronger, and some with enhanced properties. He was abrasive, unhygienic and anti-social, but he was a genius, and reminded me of the unhappier Hermione that I had helped recover.

I never approached Snape about his problems, but I kept any comments that he made about them locked away for the day when I had enough information to approach him, or at least Dumbledore.

-----

Speaking of Dumbledore, have I ever mentioned that Dumbledore knows Aikido?

Well, maybe it's not Aikido, but that's close enough a description. Worse, Dumbledore throws down, not away, so you can't just roll out of the fall. I learned very quickly to come to my sessions with a charm already cast to buffer against physical collision with static structures. Not only did it make the landings softer, but it also made diving and rolling on the stone floors a painless experience.

This charm quickly debuted in my own sessions too. Once everyone understood that the floor didn't hurt anymore, everyone started dodging and rolling a lot more. Finally, finally they all started to look like duellists.

Pansy's voice sounded across the room. "Damn it Granger, pick a spell and stick with it!"

Since I refused to duel Hermione, Pansy made it her mission to remedy Hermione's tendency to switch attacking spells in rapid exchange. Hermione would alternate between Stunners, Binds and Disarms, which wasn't bad in and of itself; avoiding the dreaded counter curse is a good thing. But she liked to throw in a few of the faster Transfigurations and Elemental hexes, whose casting times, while quick, were way slower than a Bind or Disarm.

Pansy kept her rapid exchange style to the very simple model that I had previously outlined: She kept up a constant stream of Binding hexes that quickly forced Hermione to abandon any thought of deflection or counter curses and erect a shield. Pansy then unleashed a brutal stream of Reductors that reverberated through Hermione's shield and forced her to drop it and roll or deflect the next Reductor. Pansy then went back to her Binding hex, and the process repeated. In less than three minutes, Hermione was a quivering wreck on the floor.

"Moral of the story is this," I said as I helped Hermione up, healing her bruises and a couple of mild bone fractures as best I could. "Variety means absolutely shit when you're less than ten feet away from your opponent. At that range, the fastest draw tends to win, and if Pansy's Body Bind outpaces your defences, then who the fuck cares what you're casting, she still wins.

"Is this getting through to you yet?"

"I know," she gasped in between pants. "I just can't stay far enough away from her to make it work."

"Hmm…" I said, thinking aloud. "You've all been working on rapid exchange so far. Maybe a demonstration of midrange is in order."

"Come on, Harry!" Pansy shouted, falling into her duelling stance across the room. "Let's go a round! I'm tired of fighting her!"

I nodded and everyone stood at the side of the room. Ginny took Hermione from me, and I walked to stand across from Pansy. We nodded once at each other, and begun.

Pansy was already at midrange, and I intended to keep her there. I released a huge cone of flames from my wand, forcing her back and away from me as I had done to Narcissa. Pansy predictably tapped into her magic and jumped back several feet, producing the buffer charm in mid-air to soften her landings.

I abruptly stopped the flame hex and summoned three desks that were stacked against the wall behind Pansy. She yelped as the desks crashed into her from behind and rolled up and over them, flipping a stunner at me as she landed. I reversed the direction of the desks and sidestepped the stunner, and then I focused my magic on the floor beneath her feet, confident that I had more than enough time to cast.

Pansy snapped a Protego shield off to intercept the desks and rolled to the side - or tried to, as a hand formed from the stone underneath her and seized her by the ankle. With a shriek, Pansy slashed her wand in a jagged motion in front of her, causing the air in front of me to swirl and discharge its static electricity into anything warm and fleshy.

What Pansy hoped for is that I'd put a shield up to protect myself and give her time to shatter the stone hand. Her one and only chance at victory, or at least prolonging the duel, was to close the distance between us where her speed at casting would work to her benefit. I, of course, had no such plans.

I jumped back and fired a medium-powered cone of freezing wind through the statically charged air, blowing the entire mess over to my sister. With her wand already aimed down at her leg in the motions of a Reductor, Pansy screamed in pain and fell backwards as the arctic blast combined with her own static discharge swept over her.

She shot a wide volley of Reductors at me, but at nearly fifteen feet away, it was all too easy to avoid the curses. All the while, my wand was in motion, and soon my stone hand became several. After a brief wrestling match, the floor held Pansy down at the shoulders, wrists and legs. I fired a quick Disarm for formality's sake, and the duel was over.

"That's a decent midrange duel," I said as I freed Pansy and returned her wand. "Like I said in our first session, the fun stuff happens here. Rapid exchange is just tooth and claw with no flair. Twenty to fifty feet out is the best place to be if you're looking to show off or use high-power spells.

"In fact…" I trailed off as a thought struck me. "I have to ask Dumbledore if I can show you something. I'll be right back!"

When I returned, I pulled my trunk out of my pocket and enlarged it. From inside I carefully removed Dumbledore's Pensieve, and placed it on a desk. While the others watched the rune-etched stone basin with interest, I placed my wand at my temple and closed my eyes.

With the memory manipulation of Occlumency, it's possible to 'bundle' your memories into packages, and transfer those packages from your head to your wand. While my friends simply saw me touch my wand to my head and pull away what looked a tangle of glowing white thread, the process was rather long and involved inside my mind.

Twirling my wand to keep the memories tight against the tip, I slowly brought them to the Pensieve, where I let them ooze down into the basin.

"This is a Pensieve, and you can look it up later." I said curtly. "I want you to touch the mess I just put in there; it's a memory of one of my recent sessions with Dumbledore. You'll see it first-person, just as if it was your own experience. Since you're all a little more sensitive to mind magic now, you'll probably 'hear' my train of thought while I did this. Don't fight it, or it'll end the experience for you. Let's go."

One by one, everyone put a finger into the small pool of my memory. I touched it too, replacing the small void in my mind from where I had removed it. After only a moment's disorientation, the memory began to play.

-----

"Again!" Dumbledore barked, bringing his wand to an upright position.

I copied the position, and after a quick bow, we began again. Immediately, I launched myself to the side, my magic making my legs tingle. My wand was whirling through motions as I travelled, erecting both the impact buffer against static objects as well as a charm designed to prevent moving physical objects from touching me.

My prudence repaid me immediately as more than a dozen stone arms sprouted from the floor grabbing at my legs and body. Within inches of their goal, they encountered the invisible barrier of my charm. I rolled through the patch of flailing limbs, firing a long tongue of scorching flames in an arc behind me.

Dumbledore merely twitched his wand, and the flames died more than ten feet from his location. A second motion had pieces of the walls explode outwards into several four-foot tall stone golems, all rushing my position. A third and the room went utterly silent. A fourth and Dumbledore vanished behind a Disillusionment Charm.

I jumped above and over the golems and their stubby arms and quickly erected both a Bubblehead charm and the strongest temperature-regulation charm I could, because I had a good idea of what his fifth motion was going to be.

I closed my eyes as the room itself exploded into flames, every inch of stone, wood and air on fire. With my eyes shut against the blinding light, I continued to move, erecting a dome shield behind me as I ran. I smiled grimly as I felt the concussive force of Dumbledore's blasting hex behind me, more than likely destroying my shield. I learned long ago that staying in one place against this man led to a 2-second defeat. Speed and unpredictability served me better.

Around and over my wand went as I layered several Disillusionment Charms in the hopes that together they might equal what Dumbledore could cast instantly. The oxygen in the room lasted only seconds, and we now duelled in a fire-lit room with walls, floor and ceiling of pure flame as the stone and wood continued to burn, compelled by Dumbledore's magic. Gouts of fire flared at the window and door, demonstrating that the room was not completely airtight.

Silent and invisible, we both were still for a moment. Dumbledore would sense any magic I performed that wasn't a personal ward or internal. I didn't know any wide-area elemental spells that Dumbledore couldn't immediately counter. However, I didn't need to see him to 'win' this bout.

I had all the protection against flame and physical damage I needed, so the rest was just a gamble on how well I was disillusioned. I fired a blinding flash of light at the ceiling, which would cause Dumbledore to avert his gaze at least for a second. In that second, a Reductor destroyed the door.

I wasn't going for the door, though; I ran full out towards the window, fortifying myself as I went. If Dumbledore bought the door ruse, I would make it out the window. If he didn't, this was likely going to hurt.

With the momentum of a small car, I crashed through the glass as if through paper, shards rebounding off my charms and magically hardened skin. I curled around in mid-air as I began to fall, erecting my strongest Protego. The expected summoning charm dissipated harmlessly off my shield, causing me to shake my head in wonder. Only Dumbledore would just expect to be able to summon a living being; to everyone else on the planet, failure was certain.

I was falling, but thanks to the Burrow, Moody's cries of "Constant Vigilance," and Pansy showing me a workaround on how to shrink already enchanted objects with no container, I came prepared. I drew a tiny piece of cloth from my pocket and quickly enlarged it to its real size. Throwing the newly restored blanket off, I mounted my Nimbus 2000 and sped off, disillusioning the broom as I flew.

I periodically renewed a spherical shield charm; it was weak, but it would be enough if Dumbledore decided to try summoning me again. It wasn't likely, though: Even if he could see through my disillusionment, which I was certain he was able to, I was well out of range for him to easily designate targets when summoning, and since neither me nor my broom were willing or unattended objects, summoning by name would fail.

I guided my nearly invisible self over the gates and away from Hogsmeade. After nearly a minute of flight, I felt the tingle that told me I was finally out from under the Hogwarts wards. I checked for anyone nearby, and seeing no one, I landed in an open field.

Praying that my training had paid off, I gathered my magic and pushed, aiming for Diagon Alley. Like most Apparitioners, I didn't hear the crack of my departure. All I heard was the rapidly diminishing sound of Albus Dumbledore cursing.

Upon arriving in front of the London side of the Leaky Cauldron, I transfigured my hair to a dirty blond color and my eyes to a light brown. I couldn't affect my scar, but my hair was long enough to hide it. With one last spell to adjust the color of my outer robes to a nice non-Hogwarts blue, I walked though the Cauldron's door, dropping the disillusionment charms on me and my broom once the door closed.

I got a wave of greeting from Tom, and a few friendly nods from those around me. I had learned while staying here last summer that seeing a disillusioned wizard coming in from London was nothing new, and so it made the best cover for my escape from the Headmaster. Sitting in a corner table, I ordered a Butterbeer and waited patiently.

No more than three minutes later, a burst of flame erupted from just above me, and the strong talons of Fawkes closed around my shoulder. The stunned tavern patrons looked on as I held on to my Butterbeer and broomstick and the world around me became a column of fire.

When the fires receded, I was sitting in my customary chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, the Headmaster himself smiling at me. He erupted into laughter when he recognized the label of my Butterbeer, holding onto his desk for support.

"That was amazing, Harry!" he said when he had caught his breath. "To escape Hogwarts…!

"I had to send Fawkes to find you!" We both laughed as Fawkes puffed up his chest and strutted back and forth on my shoulder. I reached up to stroke his head and neck, and Fawkes put a wing around my head, pulling me into his warm body with unbelievable strength.

I couldn't help but smile. Fawkes could find anyone he knew intimately, no matter where they were. Having been so close to him for so long, I wasn't too surprised that he could locate me. In fact, knowing that a phoenix could locate and retrieve me nearly instantly was a very comforting feeling.

"The only suggestion I have is for you to find something other than Incendio to cover your retreat," he said a little more seriously. "That was still more than close enough to counter-curse, and then stun you while you reeled with the backlash."

"Wasn't there a way that you could see through my disillusionment?" I asked, curious. I fully remembered Dumbledore telling me how useless my Invisibility Cloak would be against him.

"Certainly there was, but not quickly enough that I would risk it giving away my position." Dumbledore looked at me meaningfully from overtop his glasses, and I sported a huge smile as I realized the implications.

In his usual indirect manner, Dumbledore had just told me that he respected my duelling skills enough not to take reckless chances. Coming from Dumbledore, that was an amazing compliment.

-----

"Holy shit," the twins exclaimed simultaneously as the memory ended.

"That was amazing," Pansy said, hugging my arm. "You got away from Dumbledore! That's unbelievable!"

I tried not to blush at the praise. "Yeah, well, I showed you that because it was the most successful duel I ever had with him that didn't go even once into rapid exchange. We both stayed away from each other and used indirect combat spells. Granted, I was more dodging and saving my arse while he was using indirect combat spells, but it's all the same."

"See, that's what I'm trying to do!" Hermione said, pointing at the Pensieve. "I want to duel like that, not just fire and deflect spells up close!"

"Then you need a better keep-away game," I said, also motioning to the pool of memories. "Rapid exchange is the worst place to be for most people, but it's also the most do-or-die area, which is why I'm focusing on it first.

"It doesn't take more than a few Elemental hexes or transfigurations to be effective at midrange. Don't forget that Death Eaters have no issues using the Unforgivables, so they have very potent midrange casting.

"In most of our other duels, I'd be up in Dumbledore's face as fast as I could get there, because that's where I'm strongest. Magically enhanced speed and strength, joint-locks, ground rolls, sidesteps, punches and kicks, deflectors, and a slightly modified Stunner are all I use when I'm in there.

"A modified Stunner?" Hermione asked excitedly, and everyone else looked interested as well.

I shook my head. "It's one of Dumbledore's spells. If he lets me, I'll show it to you, along with that stone arm animation."

"Why would you need to modify the Stunner?" Luna asked.

"I'll show you. Try to stun me."

Luna nodded, and quickly fired a generic Stupefy at me as I worked the counter curse. The spell was barely in motion in the air when the crimson trail of her Stunner faded to white and the spell snapped back into her wand. She yelled out and dropped her wand, and looked at her hand as it twitched.

"Sorry, that was probably a little strong," I said. "Anyways, that's why counter-curses suck, and why they'll nearly always finish a duel. If your opponent knows what spell you're about to use and gets the counter off, you're done. You probably wouldn't drop your wand, but you wouldn't be able to get another spell off for a second or so, which is pretty much suicide in rapid exchange."

"But how would they…" Hermione trailed off as I tapped my head, smirking. "Legilimency," she whispered.

"Yup! So, how's everyone doing with their meditations?"

-----

The session ended in Occlumency practice, everyone working with renewed vigour. After working everyone until we needed headache potions, we all went down to the Great Hall for dinner.

I was trying to work out a diplomatic way to approach Hermione and not end up in an argument. I needed her to understand that this 'no magic' thing that I had wasn't going to be a passing phase. As fate, or maybe Hogwarts, would have it, I didn't need to. Luna Lovegood, bless her innocent and inquisitive soul, solved my problem for me.

"Harry, why don't you ever duel with Hermione?" she asked, looking at Hermione with her misty blue eyes.

"Don't want to curse her; don't want her to curse me," I said in-between bites of food. "Healing spells, sure. But that's different."

"So, you don't ever use magic on her?"

"What are you looking for, Luna?" I asked, confused. "Aside from a healing spell now and then, I haven't cast anything on Hermione. Hell, I don't even charge up when I'm around her, 'cause that's just as offensive."

Luna looked unsatisfied, but she didn't press again. "Okay. So, why?" she asked.

I shrugged, swallowing my food. "I guess I just want one person that I can absolutely trust to never hurt me. I've never had that."

"What about your parents, or Professor Dumbledore?" she asked me, regaining her normal mask of innocent curiosity.

I scoffed. "The Dursleys hated and hurt me as much as they could get away with, which wasn't a hell of a lot. Dumbledore put me with them in the first place, and while I've come to terms with that, I don't doubt that the man would send me to my death if he thought it best. I trust him to make those kinds of decisions, but that point is that he would make that decision at all.

"I'm looking for someone who would never see me as expendable. Someone who would never consider hurting me in any way, and trust me never to hurt them. Someone who would appreciate that I would do the same for them."

Hermione's fork clattered against her plate, the volume making me think she dropped it. I didn't register it consciously, though, as my attention was on Luna.

"Dumbledore's in charge, so I can't ask that of him," I finished. Luna gave nodded at me and went back to her dinner, which was her way of conveying her satisfaction. I smiled and turned my attention to my own food, only peripherally aware that Hermione had stopped eating.

It wasn't until we were on our way back to Ravenclaw tower that I noticed something was wrong. Despite the fact that we walked in step and held hands, Hermione wouldn't look in my direction.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly, slowing us down a bit.

"I forgot," she said quietly. I tilted my head sideways, silently asking her to elaborate.

"What you were talking about with Luna. I forgot how you would take it if I… when we were on that couch, I… I wasn't…"

"Don't worry about it," I said, pulling her into a hug. "We're good. It's my problem more than yours, and we were more than a little preoccupied."

"Yes, but I could've… I promise you that I won't use magic against you, ever. I swear."

"I… thank you." Wow. Started and finished in thirty seconds; that has to be a record for 'relationship issues.'

"Thank you for not getting mad," she said, smiling. "Let's keep going."

As we walked, I thanked whatever God existed that I had held my anger in. I could only hope that all of our future disagreements would be as painless as that one.

-----

While that was a very pleasing if unexpected outcome, my lack of relationship problems with Hermione seemed to come back to us in classic karmic fashion.

I suited up with the rest of Ravenclaw's team as we prepared for our first Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor were skilled opponents, so the locker room was sombre as we each fell into our zone. With our bright blue robes and game faces on, we took to the skies to the cheers of the crowded stands.

I loved Quidditch. Not only was it immensely fun, but it brought the parents and families into the school, which was uncommon enough to be a real treat for the students. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor colors seemed to overflow their sections, and even a few of the Hufflepuff and Slytherin students and families sported the color of their favourite team.

The cheers of the crowd thundered around us as the Quaffle was tossed, and the game began. I grabbed the Quaffle and fired a pass to Davies, who was further down the field already. I was so focused on avoiding Katie Bell and getting down to the Gryffindor hoops that I hadn't noticed the cheers quickly become screams.

Katie did, though, and crashed right into me. "Look!" she said, forcibly turning my head. Both Bludgers were not chasing players, as they should have been; instead, they careened full-speed through the stands, smashing into random adults and students in a gory mockery of pinball.

I changed my broom's heading with a twist of my hips and rocketed toward the stands, my wand coming to my hand as though it had always been there. A glance to either side told me that both teams had marshalled behind me, and we charged the stands in an arrowhead formation of red and blue.

I heard the roar of Dumbledore's voice, and while I didn't recognize the spell, the effect was immediate. The entire stand melted from underneath the screaming crowd, dropping them nearly 50 feet in height. The stand had become a large mattress of sorts, assuring a minimum of injuries. More importantly, Dumbledore had given the teams a clear shot at the Bludgers.

I let loose with a flurry of Reductors immediately. Fred and George were the next to respond, and just an instant later, the air filled with white-violet streams of jagged light as both teams opened fire. The Bludgers had no chance to descend even ten feet in pursuit of their victims before nearly two dozen curses reduced them to dust.

A man appeared at the top of a nearby stand, wand at the ready. He grinned manically at me, and then turned his wand to the stands.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, and a man in the stands below him toppled over, dead.

With a scream of rage, I sped towards him as fast as I could, but pulled up short. In the man's left hand was one of the helmet-shaped items that I had planted at the Ministry, and the glowing runes announced its activation.

Oh, shit! I put my wand to my neck, charming my voice. "DEMENTORS ARE COMING!"

"They will find you dead!" the man screamed at me. "Avada--"

An enormous clap of thunder swallowed his words, and a blinding flash of light forced my eyes away. When I looked back, the man's charred corpse was falling from the back of the stands, small pieces breaking off in a trail behind him as he fell. From the stands across the field, Dumbledore stood with his wand out and eyes glowing. The crowd was now silent and still, their sense of panic overtaken by awe, and everyone stared at Dumbledore. Dumbledore, however, looked at me. I took a deep breath, and began speaking again.

"EVERYONE NEEDS TO CLEAR THE STANDS AND MOVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN TO THE CASTLE. DON'T DELAY FOR ANYTHING, BECAUSE IT WILL ONLY TAKE THE DEMENTORS A FEW MINUTES TO GET HERE.

"ANY ADULT THAT CAN CAST A PATRONUS SHOULD MAKE THEIR WAY TO PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE; WE'RE SURE TO NEED YOUR HELP."

I cancelled the charm on my voice and flew down to Dumbledore. To my surprise, however, he waved me off. "See to the evacuation, and guard the pathway to the school," he said. "The Dementors will arrive here first, and I will cover our retreat."

I nodded and flew off, looking for the Quidditch teams. They had grouped together in the air, and Roger and Oliver were talking quietly.

"Roger, Wood, can you get the teams to cover the path to the school? The students and parents need some cover."

"Oliver was nodding, but Roger was hesitant. "Harry, I can't even begin to cast a Patronus. How are we going to be of help?"

"Early warning, mostly," I said, anxious to fly up the path. "If you have to, use the strongest Incendio you have; Dementors like the cold, so fire really bothers them." I barely waited for the captains to agree before I rocketed north, flying up along the path.

"Harry!" someone called from below me. I angled my Nimbus into a spiralling descent, coming to a hover about five feet off the ground. Hermione ran to me, carrying a distraught Luna Lovegood.

"Daddy," she whispered. "Daddy… daddy…" Her face was wet with tears, and her eyes were wide enough to pop out of her head. I had never seen Mr. Lovegood at a Hogwarts Quidditch game before, so I assumed that her panicked state had little to do with her father's health and more to do with wanting him present.

"Harry, can you take Luna back to the castle?" Hermione asked, muffling a sigh as she put the thin girl down. "She's been like this since the Bludgers went crazy, and she won't walk on her own."

I nodded impatiently and motioned for Luna to mount my broom. Luna, however, didn't seem to know I was even there.

"Luna, climb on," I ordered, and I pulled her closer to me. This time, Luna went through the mechanical motions of mounting the broom, but as she sat up her arms fell limply to the side. I cursed profusely as I clamped an arm around her to hold her in place, and shot towards the castle, rising only high enough to avoid clipping people.

The temperature around us was dropping quickly, and I knew that our time was nearly up. "Someone take her from me!" I called as I reached the castle gates. "I need to get back out there!"

"Here," a terse voice answered, and a pair of rough hands lifted Luna off my broom. I turned and couldn't hide my surprise to see Snape cradling Luna in his arms, his dark robes nearly enveloping the small Ravenclaw. Without looking at me or saying anything further, Snape turned and walked down the hall, I presumed to the Hospital Wing.

I turned my broom and shot back down the pathway, pushing thoughts of Snape from my mind. The Patronus Charm, the only charm that would repel Dementors with certainty, required thoughts of happiness, comfort and love, and Snape inspired none of those things in me. I could feel the Dementors coming now, their aura of despair beginning to hammer at my senses. Occlumency helped, but it took real focus to cut through the gloom, and I didn't want to prolong my exposure.

Dumbledore had been wrong, I thought as I saw the dark forms approaching the line of people from both sides. The Dementors were following their prey, not the beacon. Worse, I had completely forgotten that they could fly, and panic began to eat at the edges of my concentration.

"Incendio!" I shouted, aiming a scorching line of fire at the ground as I flew. A barrier of fire would give people more time to escape, and perhaps a little more incentive to hurry as the flames chased them. I heard the hex repeated by others, and looked behind me to see that the other Quidditch players had begun to mimic my tactics, cutting the Dementors off from the people. Hermione was still on the path, and she took a stance on the opposite side from where I was flying.

My first Patronus Charms produced a heavy bank of fog, and I directed the fog parallel to my fire line as best I could. There were far too many Dementors for mere mist to work, though, and I was likely the only person who could cast the Patronus at all this far back, so I focused on the most profound memory I had: My mother mouthing the words "I love you" in the Mirror of Erised. "Expecto Patronum!" I cried, pushing as hard as I could.

The mist that formed this time quickly coalesced into the shape of a stag, my father's animagus form. My mother's presence manifested as white flames that burned in the stag's eyes and danced along its antlers. It charged immediately at the dark figures approaching, flying through the air as easily as they did.

The initial line of Dementors scattered at the charge of my stag, but there were now dozens that were closing in. My fog banks had nearly dissipated as the Dementors' aura annihilated them, and my corporeal Patronus could only intimidate so many at a time.

I cast and recast the charm, and though it made me dizzy, I continued to layer dense fog between the Dementors and the running crowd, and now there were three stags chasing the dark robed spectres around with flaming antlers. The Dementors had ceased approaching, more occupied with avoiding my Patroni; for the moment, this side of the path would be secure.

I sped to the other side to where I saw Hermione standing. The Dementors were closer here, less afraid of fire than they were of the Patronus Charm. Hermione was clever with her spells, though, and created enormous walls of fire, forcing the Dementors to fly over, where the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams fell upon them with curses and hexes of their own. Several adults had stopped along the path to add to the barrage, and the repeated call of "Incendio" and "Reducto" became their mantra to counter the Dementors' aura.

My fog was harder to cast here, and I just barely coaxed another stag to form without blacking out. The fire and my Patronus soon the Dementors on this side retreating from the line, letting Hermione and the others breathe a bit easier. My Patronus charms were dying on the other side, however, and I had very little left in me to give. Having reinforced Hermione's side, I sped back to my own, wondering if I could even cast the charm again. Panic and determination warred in my mind, as I knew of nothing else I could use against these monsters. If this side fell, I would find Hermione again and stand with her. If I had to fight these things by hand, I'd keep them away from her.

A silvery shape flew past me, singing a formless, ethereal song. Another soon came, and another. I looked south to the Quidditch pitch, and a tear rolled down my cheek as relief flooded through me. The end of the line was now visible, and at its end walked Dumbledore, with no less than twenty-two corporeal Patroni swirling around him, each a silvery likeness of Fawkes. The glowing phoenixes surrounded the line in an ever-expanding perimeter, forcing the Dementors farther and farther. I took the opportunity to rest, and rose higher into the air, looking back at the Quidditch pitch.

The writhing mass of blackness there told me that Dumbledore hadn't been wrong at all; there must have been hundreds of Dementors gathered at the pitch. For all our efforts and all my panic, the Quidditch teams, Hermione and I had only been fighting against the stragglers. Several manifestations of Fawkes, along with the assorted Patroni of several other adults and professors held the larger group of Dementors at bay, though barely, and small flits of flame erupted throughout the end of the long line as the real Fawkes transported those who had collapsed in the miasmic despair generated by the horde of shadows.

With Dumbledore's powerful voice driving people forward, the line finally made it to the large front doors of Hogwarts. The various Patroni were beginning to die out, but as they did, the last of the crowd stepped inside the castle, and the great doors swung shut. Only Dumbledore remained outside.

I pressed my face against the window, watching as the last of Dumbledore's silvery phoenixes faded away. I could feel the power radiating from his form, even through the glass and stone. As the large mass of Dementors surged toward him, Dumbledore raised his wand, and I heard the sound of the wind gather around him. "Oh, hell yes," I said loudly, nearly vibrating in my excitement. Hermione looked at me questioningly, as did many others. I had watched his duel with Bellatrix, though; I had felt his near-instant defeat of Quirrel. I knew well what was coming.

With a shockwave that shook the castle to its foundations, a wave of concussive force sped out, forcing the entire mass of Dementors back away from the castle. Then, Dumbledore raised his wand high above his head, and the tip fired up with an unbelievably bright blue light.

As the adults around me gasped, I watched mesmerized as streams of lightning erupted from that light, searing unerringly into the nearest Dementors and sending them screaming to the ground. More and more arcs of lightning formed, and attacked the flying spectres in a wider and wider radius. The entire castle echoed with whispers of amazement as the sea of shadows found it impossible to approach Dumbledore without falling, impaled by lightning.

The Dementors could not be killed in this fashion, I knew all too well from Dumbledore's instruction. They could be hurt, though, and the Dementors brought down by the powerful bolts of electricity crawled away like moving shadows on the ground, eager to escape the pain. On and on the procession went, Dementors approaching, falling to the lightning, and crawling away. Through it all, Dumbledore never seemed to tire and the spell he used never wavered. Soon, fewer and fewer Dementors dared to approach, and Dumbledore increased the range of his attack, driving them farther away.

The whispers around me had gotten louder now, especially from the adults. The most prominent whisper was not in awe of the spell, however, but a name:

"Grindelwald."

As the whispers continued, I gathered that the spell Dumbledore was using saw use against his historical foe as well. Given the reverential tones that the adults used, it was this spell more than any other that the elder wizards thought of when the name Dumbledore came up. I could hardly blame them, either.

A piercing cry from above turned my attention from Dumbledore to the skies. Fawkes had appeared, and dove towards the gathering of shadows trailing fire in his wake, blowing the entire mass apart as a fiery comet might shatter an asteroid. As the Dementors scattered, trails of violet energy streamed from each cloaked figure, connecting them. These trails of energy spread outward from some unseen source, enveloping more and more of the Dementors, and bringing them closer together.

I wasn't the only one who noticed, either. With a suddenness that surprised everyone in the entrance hall, Dumbledore appeared in the fiery wake of Fawkes. "Everyone to the Great Hall immediately!" he boomed, and people streamed into the hallways before him. I approached him to ask what had happened, and he grabbed me and forced me along. With screams and wails, nearly two thousand people crammed into the Great Hall, looking at each other fearfully.

"Dome shields, quickly!" Uh oh, this isn't going to be good.

I pulled Hermione to me, and cast my shield around as many people as I could. Arthur, Marius and Livia all were casting their shields elsewhere, and several of the other adults managed shields of their own. Dumbledore's dome shield took in nearly half the Hall, eliminating much of the potential confusion as people arranged themselves to fit underneath the available domes.

"I don't like this," Hermione said anxiously beside me. "This is just like-"

With a deafening roar, the castle shook and rocked, throwing everyone to the ground. Every window in the Great Hall shattered, and huge pieces of stone rained down on the shields and crushed the tables like kindling. Our dome shields bucked and flickered as hundreds of pounds of rock tested their strength.

Yes, Hermione, this is just like when Azkaban fell, I thought. I couldn't answer Hermione, though; I was too busy maintaining my dome against the bombardment, and she'd never hear me anyways.

As it was with the Burrow, the blast lasted only a couple of moments, and as the dust began to settle, I stared in amazement at the now un-enchanted, but generally intact ceiling.

Hogwarts had held, thank God.

The debris continued to settle around our dome shields slowly, and several minutes passed in tense silence. No further collapse seemed imminent, however, and everyone began to stand.

Unable to wait any longer, I let my dome collapse and stood to survey the damage. Cracks, shattered glass and missing stone were everywhere in the Great Hall, and I could only imagine the damage to the front of the castle. Dumbledore dropped his shield next, and already his wand was in motion. I watched his movements as he mended cracks and levitated stone back to its general location where it fused once again with the walls and ceiling.

"Nothing special about what he's doing," I whispered to Hermione as I helped her up. "Let's get going."

The three of us quickly mended the stonework and glass windows of the Great Hall. Despite the shock of the attack, adults and students alike couldn't help but applaud as Dumbledore restored the illusion of the sky with what seemed to be a casual wave of his wand. At Dumbledore's nod, Hermione and I left the hall, carefully venturing to the front of the castle to survey the remaining damage.

It was to my immense surprise and relief that the castle front still stood. The walls, while cracked and missing in some places, were relatively whole. Cautiously, we made our way to the front entrance, and walked outside.

The Quidditch pitch was gone; a massive crater was there, quickly filling with water from the lake. The rolling hills that kept Hogsmeade just out of view of both the castle and the pitch looked as though a giant dragon had taken enormous bites out of them, nearly eaten completely away. What little of them that remained offered the comfort that Hogsmeade was likely still in one piece. The same was not true for the castle and its surroundings. I noted that the fractures on the front of the castle moved in a spiral formation, something that was physically impossible.

"It's from the wards," Hermione said quietly, noticing my confusion. "The patterns indicate the way they failed against the blast, and then came back. The blast basically traced the lines of weakness in the physical wards."

I nodded at her, but my mind was certainly not on the wards. They had held, obviously, since the castle and most of the grounds were still here. Even the forest was largely unaffected, though there were enormous patches of trees that lay against the ground. I scanned everything as quickly as I could, assessing the damage that would need to be repaired. The castle had lost several of its smaller towers in the blast, but that seemed to be the most intense damage.

It didn't escape my notice that the center of the crater had been where the Dementors had gathered, affected by that violet energy.

Hermione hadn't finished with her observations, however. She tugged on the sleeve of my robe, bringing my attention back to her. "This must be what happened to Azkaban," she said with urgency. "V-Voldemort must have used whatever this was to destroy the island."

Again, I nodded, having nothing to say to that. I did file that detail a little closer to conscious memory than the wards, though; this was something I would need to discuss with Dumbledore. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I motioned towards the castle. It was time to start putting things back together.

With the help of the staff, and especially Dumbledore, whose magic was needed to set the collapsed towers right, the castle was rendered stable by late evening. The kitchens had been largely unaffected, and an enormous Hogwarts feast helped to calm everyone's nerves. With the students' dorms repaired and the largest holes in the castle patched, most adults felt secure enough to leave their children at the school and check their homes for damage from the force of the blast.

The Daily Prophet reporters that had been present for the Quidditch game were working through the crowd furiously, getting eyewitness statements and opinions. It was inevitable that the reporter would eventually get to me, as I was repairing one of the internal castle walls, near to the Great Hall.

"Do you have any comments about the attack, Mr. Potter?" she asked. A sickly green quill floated near the parchment she held, ready to quote my answer.

"Seems like whoever attacked Azkaban knows how to blow up Dementors," I said over my shoulder, continuing to work on the wall. Several gasps and whispers told me that I had a larger audience than just the reporter. "I wonder if the Ministry knew that was possible," I mused to myself, feeling more than justified in venting my displeasure. "Still, there's a big difference between attacking Azkaban and attacking Hogwarts," I said, turning to face the reporter directly.

"... and that would be?" she prompted, while others listened.

I raised my hands to indicate the castle around me. "Hogwarts is still here." A resounding cheer came from the Weasley twins, quickly echoed by the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams. The fervor proved to be infectious, and soon the whole crowd was cheering the castle's survival, dispelling the last vestiges of loss and depression.

----

My quote made it to the front page of the Prophet in a stunning example of media sensationalism:

BOY-WHO-LIVED TO THE DESTROYER OF AZKABAN: "HOGWARTS IS STILL HERE!"

The article went on and on about the attack and my frantic defense of the crowd as they ran for the castle, and included the speed at which the castle was repaired, heaping most of the praise on Hermione and me. A fair amount of the article praised Dumbledore whose multiple Patroni and unbelievable command of elemental magics prevented all but the most minor of casualties.

I thought it unfair that those who had been injured or killed went unmentioned. One man died in front of me, followed shortly by his murderer, who had been responsible for the attack in the first place. There were one or two sentences about Dumbledore "exercising his right to dispense justice," but that was it. It wasn't until Dumbledore's meeting with the Order that night that some of the more insidious details came out.

-----

"We lost four students to the rogue Bludgers," he said as he leafed through the papers in front of him. "We also lost six adults to the Bludgers, and one to the Killing Curse. Another, the presumed attacker, I killed personally. There were no other permanent injuries.

"All of the deaths were muggleborn." There were grumbles and nods at this statement, as it confirmed the nature of the attack.

I sat in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk in his newly repaired office, the glow of the fireplace and the gentle trills of Fawkes creating a feeling of warmth and comfort. Despite the nature of the meeting, the feeling of safety in the office had not diminished. Beside me sat Sirius and Remus. Sirius leaned back in his chair, and had one arm slung over Remus' shoulders and another over mine. Remus sat comfortably, seeming to listen more to Fawkes than to the Headmaster. Marius and Livia Parkinson sat to my other side, hand in hand, and Livia frequently squeezed my knee, offering her support as only a mother could. Across the room from us sat Snape, his face utterly impassive. In between was a mixture of people that I knew and other Order members that I had never met.

"The explosion completely destroyed the Quidditch pitch," Dumbledore continued, "Most of the front grounds, and large tracts of the forest, all of which will likely be impossible to recover. With the enlargement of the lake, a new pathway will need to be laid to Hogsmeade." He then turned to me. "Harry, you had an observation?"

I smiled, along with a few others. My observation was obvious in my response to the reporter yesterday, but I wasn't surprised not to see any mention of it in the paper. "It was very obvious to me that the center of the explosion occurred exactly where the large grouping of Dementors was. Yesterday, I saw large tendrils of purple-colored energy holding them together, and they seemed to gather around this in a tight group. Shortly after that, the explosion occurred.

"My assumption is that this is the same phenomenon that destroyed Azkaban Island."

"You'd be right," Moody said, drawing everyone's attention to him. "The Unspeakables found out about a hundred years ago that for whatever reason, Dementors in prolonged contact with each other would annihilate one another explosively. They created devices that would attract Dementors to be very close together, and the Dementors themselves would take care of the rest. On low power, the devices served to keep the Dementors close to Azkaban. On high power... well, you know.

"It was a fail-safe that was instigated just over two decades ago in the first war; a self-destruct for Azkaban in case we needed to eliminate the prisoners being held there."

"This information is a little late, Alastor," the Headmaster said, letting his irritation show.

Moody shrugged. "Wasn't important until now. I figured that when Azkaban went up, either the Aurors did it in response to the break in, or Voldemort possessed an Auror with the knowledge and did it on the way out."

"Everyone got out," Sirius said with finality.

"Okay, then, Voldemort did it," Moody continued unperturbed. "There aren't widespread reports of damage this time, so there were probably less Dementors here."

"Or Hogwarts' wards contained the blast," Marius said. Dumbledore and Snape were both nodding.

"The wards extend through and past Hogsmeade," Snape said to Moody. "There were probably just as many Dementors here as in Azkaban, but the nature of the warding would have prevented the damage from spreading."

I could see that there was an unspoken argument building between Dumbledore and Moody about what each would consider 'relevant information,' so I took the chance to move things along. "What I want to know is why Voldemort would waste the Dementors on an attack like this."

"To lower morale and stall for time," Snape answered immediately. "We are now cloistered at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade bracing for any follow-up strikes, and repairing the grounds, castle, and wards. Until Hogwarts is back at full health and capacity, we cannot afford to leave it more lightly guarded." Several people nodded at this, and I reluctantly began to nod as well.

"This will delay your meeting with the Minister," Dumbledore said unhappily, looking at me. "It will delay all the plans we had set for the elimination of the Floo Network, which will allow the Death Eaters to fortify it against us."

"I'd rather not let Mad-Eye off the hook so quickly," Remus said, a growl rumbling behind his voice. "Why were there so many Dementors available to use if they had all been destroyed at Azkaban?"

"Because they can't be destroyed," answered a chorus of voices. Dumbledore, Moody and I had answered at the same time; I was guessing, Dumbledore probably had a more complete explanation, and Moody spoke with certainty. Naturally, all eyes once again gravitated to Moody.

"After they annihilate, they dissipate and reform elsewhere," the one-eyed ex-Auror said. "It doesn't take them too long to find their way back to Azkaban with the devices attracting them."

Snape looked at Moody darkly. "If the Malfoys had two of those devices, then there's bound to be more. Now that the Death Eaters have figured them out, this could happen again."

"Won't happen," Moody said, shaking his head. "There were only ever five devices created, and only three were in operation at Azkaban. Malfoy had two, so they used one in Azkaban to detonate it and took the others. The Department of Mysteries has another one, and the DMLE has the last one in case one of the devices at Azkaban malfunctioned.

"I still have my clearances, so I checked yesterday. The DM and DMLE devices are safe and sound, and the Aurors still have the device that was activated in the Ministry."

"So they used the device that I planted in Langford's bag?" I asked. Moody nodded, and I sat back to think.

"You seem certain that these devices can't be duplicated." Sirius stated in a tone indicating that he wouldn't mind trying.

Moody chuckled at the Marauder, shaking his head. "Son, I could leave all five of the devices in Albus' hands here, come back in a decade, and he still won't have made any headway! Those devices are impossible to replicate, and no, I won't tell you why.

"What I will tell you is that a device activated on high power is ruined, and usually destroyed in the blast anyways. That's three down, and two accounted for. We're good."

Several questions flew through my mind, but I asked the one that I would most likely need to answer for Hermione. "If these devices are so rare and potent, then why did you have me activate one in the Ministry? Or was that 'high power'?"

"Shock factor, and yes it was," Moody growled. "Azkaban is still a fresh wound, so anything to do with it would move quickly through the Ministry, like trials and such. Besides, there was no way the Aurors would have let the Dementors destroy the Ministry; too many Aurors, and only seconds away."

"Enough," Dumbledore said, cutting off any further debate. "We have repairs to do and new plans to make. Alastor, make sure that those remaining two devices are destroyed. I don't care what the Ministry or the Unspeakables have to say about it. See to it, or I will go myself."

One glowing blue eye met two smoldering ones, and Moody slowly nodded. "I'll take care of it," he said quietly, and Dumbledore turned away.

"Sirius, Remus, do you have plans for an open assault on the Floo control station if it becomes necessary?"

Sirius, Remus and I shared a look that expressed the same reaction: Holy shit.

"I'm pretty sure that we can come up with something on short order," Sirius said slowly. Dumbledore didn't do more than nod curtly and move on.

"Severus, your potions?"

"Nearly complete with Potter's help," he said. Snape avoided looking at me while he said this, but his inclusion of my name was enough to make me smile, and raise Sirius' eyebrows.

"Good." Dumbledore stood, and handed me a roll of parchment. "This is the list of repairs in priority. Anything not on the list can be handled at your discretion." Dumbledore then turned to address the room. "If there are any other concerns, please remain. The rest of you know what you're doing, and I will see you soon."

-----

I received a mixed bag of reactions when I relayed the meeting's contents to my friends. Their protests drowned me out when I told them about Moody knowing about the Dementor devices. Pansy was the most vocal, describing Moody in expletives I'd never heard of before. Hermione just shook her head and hugged me. The twins looked angry, and Ginny sat in a corner, looking at her feet. "Why would he not tell them?" Luna asked.

"He's a fucking Auror," Pansy snarled. "His oaths to the Ministry are obviously more important to him than we are."

Fred and George looked at each other darkly, and began to trade off ideas to pay the ex-Auror back. "I think that next time we practice our summoning spells…"

"We aim at his eye-"

"And leg-"

"And Evanesco his clothes-"

"And stick his wrinkly arse to a desk-"

"Floating upside-down in the Great Hall-"

"On a triple-dose of Veritaserum-"

"And a few strong Babbling Hexes-"

"In front of a Prophet reporter-"

"The Prophet wouldn't print it," I said, bringing myself into their conversation. "They avoided mentioning anything I said about the Dementors exploding in their articles."

"The Quibbler would print it," Luna said, coming over to where I was standing. Hermione shot me a look and I gave her a slight nod. Luna had come to Ravenclaw tower last night with nearly no recollection of her panic. In fact, Luna seemed more attentive than ever, and never once drifted into her talks of fanciful creatures. Given that Snape was versed in Occlumency, I suspected that he was also skilled in Legilimency. My opinion that Snape had done for Luna what Dumbledore had done for Sirius I kept between Hermione and me; no need to draw unwanted attention to Snape.

"Why would that rag print a story like this?" Pansy asked, making her opinion of the wizarding tabloid well known.

"My father's the editor," Luna said, her voice taking on an edge. "If I ask nicely, I'm sure he'd print it for us."

I knew better than to expect Pansy to apologize, but I did note the shift in her facial expression as she moved the Quibbler from her mental list of 'uninteresting' to 'interesting.' The twins similarly looked as though they had just discovered exactly what they needed for their plan.

"If he kept secret anything that could have helped at the Burrow, I'll kill him." That statement, delivered in a low, threatening tone by Ginny, turned everyone's head. Ginny raised her head and looked at me, and in her brown eyes smoldered a seed of the most intense hatred. No one else in the room caught that tiny crimson spark that lit behind her eyes. What scared me was that Voldemort hadn't caused that hatred, though he certainly did his damage; anything to do with Voldemort triggered my own rage. This hatred was entirely Ginny's own, and I wondered for the first time, but not the last, if Ginny Weasley was mentally stable.

"Before you all go Moody-hunting," I said, taking a lighter tone, "You'll want to hear the rest of my story." I then told them about Dumbledore's ultimatum to Moody, their momentary stare down, and Moody's submission. Everyone, even Ginny, smiled at the thought of Dumbledore charging through the Ministry, blasting everything in his way while he searched for those devices. In fact, Ginny's smile was wide with satisfaction, and I could guess why.

Before yesterday, the legend of Dumbledore's battle against Grindelwald was only that: A legend. The current students of Hogwarts saw Dumbledore as a kind and patient teacher, as well as an organized Headmaster. They respected him because their parents did, and because of the natural tendency of society to honor those who had lived so long. Dumbledore earned his fame more than two generations ago, and though the wizarding community considered him a great man, the awe that surrounded him had begun to fade.

Then the Dementors came, and Dumbledore had almost single-handedly turned them away. An entire generation of students and hundreds of adults looked out from every window they could to see the near-mythical spell that had laid Grindelwald low. After the explosion, they watched in rapture as Dumbledore casually strolled through the wreckage, raising castle towers and restoring enchantments laid by the Founders themselves with what seemed to be little more than a gentle swish of his wand. No one questioned whether or not the school would remain open, or if it was safe to leave the children.

Dumbledore was there.

"If you still want to do something against Moody, you might consider talking to Sirius and Remus," I said, looking mostly at the twins. "If there's anyone to bang ideas off of, it's the last two surviving Marauders."

The twins' eyes lit up simultaneously. "You know, we forgot about that!" Fred said excitedly.

"Since we're talking about them, we have something for you," George added.

I saw him pull out a scrap of parchment, and knew exactly what that was. "The map? Sirius was sure it was lost."

"Not lost, little bro," Fred said as he put his arm around my shoulders. "We nicked it from Filch's office before you took over."

"It's been put to good use since then," Pansy said, drawing quirky smiles from both Fred and George.

I arched one eyebrow at that, but I let it slide. Pansy could take care of herself. "I'd like you three to give that map to Sirius and Remus. Perhaps Padfoot and Moony can help make copies of the thing, and we can get a better grip on security around here."

Upon hearing their agreement, I scribbled a quick note to Sirius and sent both the note and the map off with Hedwig, who was pleased to have some mail to deliver. As I watched her fly out the window and veer off to another tower further along the castle, Hermione came up beside me to rest her head on my shoulder.

"I hope that they don't get into trouble with Moody," she said quietly. I chuckled, thinking it very likely that Moody would be the one doing the embarrassing.

"Well, Dumbledore warned me that 'allies' and 'friends' are mutually exclusive terms," I said, shrugging my unburdened shoulder. "I don't completely blame Moody for not telling us, but I think that that's the kind of thing he should have said right after Azkaban went down, not just after we lose several muggleborn and just about lose Hogwarts in a similar assault nearly a year later."

"I don't like the wizarding world," Hermione said miserably, pressing against me harder. "I hate that I'm looked down on even though I'm doing so much better than them."

"I don't think that you're looked down on, Hermione."

She squeezed my arm, but shook her head, rolling it against my shoulder. "It's not good enough, though. Even if I'm the exception, how long will it take before it's not an issue?"

I sighed, not having a good answer. "All I can say is what Dumbledore told me: Let's take care of Voldemort before we try to change the rest of the world. Because God knows it needs changing."

"It does." Hermione was silent for a moment, before looking up at me. "Do you think Luna's alright?" she asked.

I turned to face her and wrapped my arms loosely around her. "I'm more worried about Ginny," I said truthfully. Hermione crinkled her eyebrows, and I related to her what I saw and felt in her eyes when she threatened to kill Moody. "I'm really afraid for her," I said. "I'm scared to go to Dumbledore with it, though. He's in his General mode right now, and I'm worried that he'll do something heavy handed like Obliviation or major Legilimency work, and that's not going to help Ginny in the end."

"Maybe we can let it sit for a bit, then," Hermione suggested. "If she's not homicidal right now, then we should have time to deal with it. We'll just have to keep her close." I nodded, and the two of us looked back out the window, surveying the much larger lake, glittering mysteriously in the light of the rising moon.

-----

October and November passed in a mind-numbing routine of repairs to the grounds and castle. While the teachers tended to their classrooms and helped here and there, they were ultimately responsible for the students. It fell to Hagrid, Hermione and I to accomplish the feat, and it left us exhausted every day. The list became shorter and shorter, however, and by the end of November, the repairs required by Dumbledore were completed. There were still repairs to do here and there, but they were aesthetic, and of the lowest priority.

Of all the things that we encountered during our repairs, the forest was by far the most memorable. Most creatures were docile, especially around Hagrid, but there were always a few that acted up. My favorite was Bane. Bane the centaur insulted Hagrid in his usual belligerent manner when we first entered the forest. Bane the centaur flew twenty feet into a tree after Hagrid had lifted him off all four feet by the neck with one hand and given him a good shaking. Bane the centaur never bothered us again.

Hagrid enjoyed Hermione's delight at the strength of his spells. While he lacked Dumbledore's experience and gracefulness, I wondered if Hagrid was actually any less powerful. The Daily Prophet wrote their noise about how well Hermione and I repaired Hogwarts, neglecting to mention Hagrid at all. We depended on Hagrid's potent spells to move most of the stone and rubble and replant the crops, though, and Hagrid delivered with a smile. Once the repairs were completed, Hermione and I cooked a thank you dinner for the half-giant, and passed a Saturday evening in his hut, laughing and trading stories.

Ginny and Luna became inseparable after the attack on Hogwarts. Pansy played the part of den mother very well, keeping the twins and the girls on track, be it for school or fun. Pansy also kept an eye on both Ginny and Luna at my request, looking for anything out of the ordinary in their behavior. Her fixation on Fred and George meant that she spent a great deal of her time with them and a lot less time with Hermione and me. While I enjoyed Pansy's banter, and Hermione had come to like my adopted sister as well, it was a relief to be able to walk the halls of Hogwarts as a couple without an entourage.

With the repairs finished, Dumbledore's sessions resumed, and routine dominated for the remaining month of term. I didn't bother to ask when my meeting with the Minister would be; it would come when it did. After my fight with the Dementors, I was more than happy to spend my time working quietly with Hermione.

-----

Three a.m., Sunday, December 24. I remember that time all too well, as Fawkes woke me with his light and sound show. I hurriedly put a set of school robes on, and found myself deposited in the Headmaster's office in a shower of flames.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Harry, but I need your services." Dumbledore stood behind his desk, three letters in his hand, and a forth floating in front of him.

"What do you need, sir?" I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"We have lost three Order members to the Ministry's Aurors, and they're being held in the jail cells with in the Ministry itself underneath the trial rooms. Direct transportation is impossible, but Fawkes can get them out if he has a way in."

"Fawkes needs me to be there to get in and find them, so that he can find me and then get us back out," I said, catching on.

"I need you to sneak in there with your Invisibility Cloak," he said, nodding. "Once you are in, you need to locate the cells and be near to them when you call for Fawkes. You needn't call loudly; he will hear you regardless of your volume. Fawkes will then remove the individuals to my office, where I will look them over.

"Do not test for identities, just have Fawkes bring them. I will deal with such things here."

"This sounds a little trickier than the Floo mission. Did you just want to borrow the cloak?"

Dumbledore was shaking his head as I spoke. "No, Harry, your cloak has properties to it that will only work for its rightful owner. I have abused that trait already: Do you remember when I sent you through Severus' black flame ward to confront Quirrel?

"No regular Invisibility Cloak would have protected you like that. I am sending you because with that cloak you are invisible to most wards and barriers. As long as you are stealthy, there is nothing the Ministry can do to detect you, and so your success is more a matter of time than luck."

Oh, wow. "I thought that you could see through items like these," I said.

"I am not the Ministry." The sly smile of Albus crept onto his face as he said this, and a very interesting thought came to mind.

"You didn't happen to develop a spell to keep an eye on my father, did you?"

Albus' laughter was all the answer I needed.

Dumbledore sobered before sending me, and walked over to put a hand on my shoulder. "Harry, one of the members you are rescuing is Sirius. He is the most important to remove, because his status as a fugitive will doom him to execution, or the Kiss if they can find a cooperative Dementor."

Equal parts shock and anger rode up and down my spine as Dumbledore said this. Damn you Sirius… "That's a wonderful thought, sir," I said sarcastically. "How did this happen?"

"Sirius acted as a caught prisoner to allow Remus, Arthur and Marius to leave peacefully. While I agree with his choice of action, we must respond quickly to avoid a fatality."

"I'm assuming that I shouldn't let anyone see Fawkes go in and out?"

"Naturally," Dumbledore said, nodding. "While Fawkes' ability to travel is not unknown, I am unlikely to be associated with these escapes unless someone sees a phoenix flitting about. Be careful, Harry."

"I will, sir." Dumbledore placed both hands on my shoulders supportively, and then passed a roll of parchment to me that had been enchanted as a Portkey. A quick flash later, and I was back in my bedroom at Grimmauld, preparing to leave. After dressing properly, I braced myself for what I felt was the hardest part of assignments like these.

I carefully opened Hermione's door and walked quietly to her bedside. I stroked the side of her head, and she moaned and crunched her eyes shut, squirming, before she opened them lazily.

"Harry…?" she mumbled. "What's going on?"

"I have to go," I said quietly.

Slowly her train of thought caught up to her as sleep faded away. "Go? Where?"

"I'm off to the Ministry to rescue my Godfather and a couple of others that got caught. I won't be long."

"Won't be… are you going alone?" she whispered furiously. "Harry, wait! Take someone-"

"I can't," I said, pulling her into a hug, careful to keep the blanket between us. "It's stealth only; I'll explain when I get back."

"Be careful," she said, squeezing me tightly. A tear rolled down her cheek to stop where it met mine.

I rubbed her back in large circles, "Don't cry," I said, rubbing her back. "I'll be right back, I promise."

Hermione reached up to cup my face between her hands, and pulled me into a lingering kiss. I buried the shock as I felt the blanket fall unsupported down to her waist.

"I love you," she said as she pulled away, making no move to cover herself. Her words stole any erotic thoughts from my mind, though, as this moment and my memory of the Mirror linked inextricably.

"I love you, too," I whispered heavily, and I lunged forward to hug her fiercely, overcome with emotion. Hot tears fell down my face, and Hermione gasped as they hit her bare back. I stayed there fore several moments, lost in the feel of joy and the warm, smooth skin of Hermione's back. My rapture quickly faded however, as thoughts of Sirius and the urgency of his predicament washed over me.

Taking a shaky breath, I pulled back and smiled as best I could. "I have to go now. I'll be okay, probably even more so now." She smiled at me, wiping her own tears away.

"I love you," I said, testing the words as they left my mouth. It felt amazing to use them for anyone; I had never said that before to anything but a reflection of my own mother.

"I love you too," she answered, and smiled widely as I walked out of the room, and quietly closed the door.