Chapter 11 - Discourse and Discoveries
Tuesday 19th August 1997
Harry woke up and immediately tried to get his bearings. He realised that he was lying in his own bed and that it was now night as no light penetrated through the window. He remembered what had occurred earlier and heaved a sigh of relief that they had remained unscathed after destroying the Horcrux. It took him a few more moments to fully come to his senses however, for when he did he noticed something else that he found quite disconcerting at first.
Hermione was lying in his bed next to him, her arm stretched across him, her head snug against his chest. In his bed. With him. She was still wearing the clothes she had on earlier and a quick check revealed that he too was still in the same garb.
He cautiously looked down upon her sleeping form, trying his best not to waken her, but discovered that his girlfriend was a light sleeper. She opened her eyes.
'Hi,' he said. 'Quite comfortable?' he added, trying to sound nonchalant, as if waking up next to a beautiful woman was an everyday occurrence.
'Hi, yourself,' she replied with a coy smile. 'Feeling OK?'
He took a moment to consider his answer. 'Never better,' he finally replied.
'You passed out,' she said. 'We weren't sure how badly injured you were, so we took you straight back here and up to your bed. I didn't want to leave you alone as I wanted to be sure that you were OK, so I decided to stay. I hope you don't mind?'
He smiled. 'Of course I don't mind. Have you any idea how good it feels to wake up with you in my arms? I should pass out more often if this is the reward.'
'That's not funny Harry,' she replied, but she was smiling as she said it. Smiling and blushing at his complement.
A thought occurred to Harry. 'I hope your parents don't mind. Are they still here?'
'They are still here. But don't worry. I spoke to them and explained. My father won't beat you up, I promise,' she said with a smile.
He smiled back, but then became serious for a moment. 'You were great today,' he told her. 'You were fantastic. Don't ever think that you don't make a contribution. Not after what you did today.'
She shook her head. 'I was terrified. I froze. If you hadn't shouted at me I wouldn't have moved. Some Gryffindor I am,' she added shamefully.
'Of course you were afraid,' he replied softly. 'I was afraid - only a fool wouldn't have felt fear in that situation. Don't you see, Hermione? That's what makes you a true Gryffindor. That's why the sword worked for you. If you don't feel the fear then the act isn't courageous. It's the fact that you overcame the fear that makes what you did so brave.' He smiled at her. 'For someone so intelligent, you can be quite thick sometimes.'
She swatted him on the chest with her arm. 'Idiot!' she exclaimed. Then, in a quieter voice, 'So are you always afraid when you do these things? You can't tell - you always look so calm.' She had lifted herself onto her elbows so that she was now looking directly into his eyes, her body lying on top of his.
He nodded. 'Of course I am always afraid. Terrified would be a better description. But I learned long ago to use my fear against the enemy.'
'Is that what you did today? Is that how you were able to summon Riddle from the trophy? I was wondering about that - the power it must have taken for you to do that is enormous. Don't ever doubt you are a great wizard, Harry.'
'That's one of the reasons I was able to do it. Dumbledore once taught me that fear and hate can be almost as powerful an emotion as love. It's one of the reasons Voldemort is as strong as he is. But you can use the fear - channel it.' He shook his head. 'It's hard to explain, Hermione, but when I am in those situations I think about what the enemy has done and what he intends to do. I fear for what he would do to those I love if he wins. That makes me angry and I seem to be able to tap in to that anger. It makes me determined not to give in. I felt it today, and I felt it when I faced Voldemort in the graveyard the night he returned. It's not something I'm especially proud of. Dumbledore believed that it is my ability to love that will eventually prove decisive, but sometimes I think it is fear and hate that drives me.'
'Don't believe that, Harry; it is love that drives you. You just said it yourself; it is the fear of the consequences losing that drives you, not the fear of death itself. That makes all the difference.' She leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his; drawing him into a long, deep kiss. 'You really are a wonderful person Harry, and the most wonderful thing about you is that you don't even realise it,' she said, when they finally broke apart.
Harry didn't reply; instead he was content to lie here with the woman he loved in his arms and forget the rest of the world for a few precious moments. He closed his eyes, enjoying a sensation of complete peace and contentment that he had never felt in his whole life.
'I love you,' he murmured, before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
***********
Ron sat in his usual seat by the window in the Briar's and worried about Harry. The room was once again full as his family and Hermione's parents had point blank refused to leave until they could be sure that Harry was OK. Despite the fact that it was three in the morning, Moony, Rufus and James Walsh were also present and he could tell that they were all concerned, despite assurances from Sukey and both Dr Granger's that Harry would be fine.
They had used the fireplace in the common room to Floo Harry back to the Briars. Their sudden arrival with an unconscious Harry and the Sword of Gryffindor had proved shocking to the others who by this time had returned to the kitchen for dinner. Harry had been as white as a sheet - 'like death warmed up' had been Simon Granger's concerned observation - before he had taken charge of the situation. He explained later that both he and his wife had received a general medical education. It was apparently required for any aspiring dentist, though Ron had no idea why. He guessed it explained why they were both called 'Doctor' anyway.
Hermione had summoned Sukey and ordered her to fetch Rufus immediately before helping the others carry Harry up to his bed. He hadn't thought it wise to wind her up about elf rights at that particular moment. He had hardly spoken to her since as she had refused to leave Harry's side.
He glanced across to his sister. She had been hysterical and had screamed at them for letting Harry get hurt. Her wrath was mainly directed at Hermione, however, and Ron wondered if Ginny suspected the truth. He'd actually had to stun her to get her to be quiet and he knew that retribution was in the offing for that particular piece of spellwork.
He looked to the door as Hermione suddenly appeared, looking radiant. He knew then that Harry was fine.
'How is he?' asked Molly in a hushed voice.
'He's fine, Mrs Weasley,' replied Hermione, with a smile. 'He was awake a few minutes ago but he is sleeping again now. He was just drained. He had to do… something that required a lot of power. I think it drained him so much that his body just shut down. Now that he has had some rest, he will be fine. I'm going back up to him - I just thought that you would all want to know.'
Relieved sighs could be heard from everyone, even Ginny who had been glaring daggers at Hermione from the moment she appeared. I'm going to have to have words with that one, he thought.
He stood as Hermione approached him and gave him a huge hug. 'Thanks, Ron,' she said. 'You were wonderful today.'
'You weren't too bad yourself, Hermione,' he replied. 'Now go. He'll be needing you,' he added with a smile.
He watched as she headed back upstairs, and only blushed when he felt all eyes in the room on him. The look from Hermione's father was particularly disconcerting.
Oh shit. I hope I haven't just landed Harry in it.
***********
When morning finally arrived, Harry and Hermione were awakened by a soft knocking on the bedroom door. Hermione rose out of bed and crossed the room to open it.
'Are you both awake?' asked Ron as he shuffled inside. Seeing that they were he continued. 'You two lovebirds had better get up,' he whispered quietly. 'Rufus wants a word with you, Harry, if you are feeling up to it. Good to see you safe and well,' he added with a leer before leaving the room.
.
Harry turned to Hermione. 'I didn't realise Ron knew you were in here. Is he cool about it? Or am I going to get that look from him all the time now?'
Hermione snuggled back into Harry's arms before replying. 'He's fine with it. He understands why I am here. Just expect a lot of raised eyebrows and nudges from him and his brothers this morning. Of course, he'd like to think we've being going at it like bunny rabbits all night, so don't humour him.'
Harry felt his face redden. Did she just say what he thought she said? He didn't know where to look.
'Oh, Harry,' said Hermione, noticing his discomfort. 'Don't worry about it.' She had a mischievous look on her face now and continued. 'Just don't give him the satisfaction of thinking that he is bothering you. After all, one day he will be right.'
'Right? About what?'
'About us going at it all night like bunny rabbits of course,' she replied with a pert look, before leaning in to kiss him and then slipping out of the bed.
Bloody hell, thought Harry, a grin stretching across his face. Bloody, bloody hell.
*********
Twenty minutes later Harry found himself sitting at the breakfast table being fussed over by Molly as she heaped yet more food onto his plate. Harry was sure that she believed a good hearty meal could cure anything. Maybe we should try that approach with Voldemort, he mused. He could see the headline now - Dark Lord Dead from Cholesterol Poisoning!
He had been greeted like a conquering hero, with hearty handshakes and pats on the back. Even Simon Granger had seemed pleased to see him, but Harry was still giving him a bit of a wide berth.
Rufus joined him for breakfast, accompanied by James Walsh. He immediately asked if he could speak to Harry, Ron and Hermione in private. The others took the hint and quickly found somewhere else to be.
'I received a letter from Snape last night - he wants to meet you again,' began Rufus, without preamble. 'He says that Voldemort has finalised the plan for the attack on Hogwarts. Snape believes that it is vital that we know the details of the plan so that we can be in a position to counter. I'm inclined to agree with him,' he added, wryly.
Snape, thought Harry. In all the excitement of the past few days, he had forgotten about Snape, incredible as that now seemed.
'When and where?' he asked, pointedly not looking at Hermione as he did so. He didn't want to go through another argument.
'Tomorrow night,' replied the Minister. 'He has suggested a pub this time. A Muggle pub. I didn't realise he was acquainted with such establishments, although one must give him credit for picking out such secure locations. Neither of you will ever be recognised in such a place.' He sounded amused.
Harry smiled his own amusement. 'I didn't think he was the type either. Not that I mind - I can have a couple of drinks whilst he talks. And he's buying.'
'Good,' replied Rufus. He handed Harry a plastic ID card. 'As you are only seventeen you will need this - it's a driving licence.'
Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly.
'You need to be eighteen to drink in Muggle pubs Harry. This will convince any curious barman that you are old enough. It will also act as your Portkey - the password is the same as before,' he added.
Harry nodded, pocketing the ID card. 'Is there anything you want me to ask him?' he said, surprising himself at just how easily he now accepted the fact that Snape was on his side.
'I have a list,' replied Rufus, with a smile.
***********
Wednesday 20th August 1997
Harry took a deep breath before opening the door of the pub in order to compose himself. He had activated the Portkey as instructed and had been transported to the centre of Inverness in the highlands of Scotland. He had taken a few moments to appreciate the town, situated as it was at the northern tip of the Great Glen with the River Ness rolling slowly through the centre; the famous loch visible in the distance. It was a pretty spot and, as he was early, he had taken a few moments to enjoy the scenery.
He reached to open the door but was startled as it swung towards him and a crowd of boisterous young men poured out of the door laughing and shouting. 'Poured' was the right word in this instance as Harry quickly realised that the group were quite drunk (although three sheets to the wind was probably a more accurate description). He allowed the group to pass before stepping over the pub's threshold.
He had never been in a Muggle pub before and did not quite know what to expect, but he found himself being pleasantly surprised. This particular establishment was called 'The Old Smiddy' and it was plain from the various old iron tools and fittings that adorned the walls that this building must indeed have been a blacksmith's shop in a previous era. There was a long bar running the length of the far wall offering a variety of cask ales and beers, and the spirit gantry on the wall contained a quite astonishing number of bottles, the majority of which appeared to contain malt whisky. A fire roared in the far corner with two large, high backed armchairs sitting facing it and this, added to the old fashioned wooden tables and the battered but comfy looking chairs, created a rather homely, rustic atmosphere that he found pleasing. The only evidence of modernity was the large television screen mounted in the corner opposite the fire which was currently showing a live football match. As a result, the pub was extremely busy and although a few heads turned at his entrance, no one paid him particular notice, the regulars swiftly turning their attention back to the football.
He weaved his way through the tables, his eyes scanning the room for his former Potions Professor, but he did not recognise him amongst the throng. Just as he was beginning to wonder if this was a wasted journey, he heard the familiar voice.
'Potter.'
Harry turned to the source of the voice and immediately saw the head of Severus Snape as he leaned around the wing of one of the high armchairs placed in front of the fire. He approached and settled himself into the seat opposite, finding the chair improbably comfortable as he did so.
'Snape,' he replied, without rancour. He saw that the man was dressed in comfortable Muggle attire; an old pair of black jeans and a black shirt. Always with the black, thought Harry.
Snape indicated to a bottle of Scotch and two glasses that lay on a small table in front of them. There was also a small jug of water. Bemused, Harry leaned forward and poured himself a liberal measure of whisky, before adding a splash of water. He sat back and saw that Snape was watching him with amusement, waiting for him to finish.
'Slainte,' said Snape, raising his glass.
'Slainte,' replied Harry before taking his first drink. He only took a small amount though - this was no time to be losing his self control.
'Well?' asked Snape, an eyebrow raised as he glanced at Harry's glass.
Harry considered the question. 'Marvellous,' he finally replied before indulging in another sip. He noticed that Snape seemed content with the answer and it occurred to him that he wasn't sure how to react to this Severus Snape. Had it not been for the greasy black hair and hooked nose, Harry would have doubted the identity of the man sitting before him. A sinister thought crept into his head.
'Who did Dumbledore make you shake hands with the night Voldemort returned?' he asked suddenly.
Snape looked pleased with the question. 'Very good, Potter. Finally you are showing some caution. It was Black I had to shake hands with that night, although I would rather have forgone such a dubious pleasure. Satisfied?'
Satisfied,' replied Harry. 'So what do you have for me?'
'Straight to the point, Potter? So you finally trust me now?'
'I spoke to Albus - at least, I spoke to his portrait. He confirmed what you told me, although I would add that I had already made up my mind on that score. I just wanted to be sure.'
'Quite right,' replied Snape. 'One cannot be too careful these days, and I am gratified that you are finally taking this seriously. Now to business. The Dark Lord is planning to attack Hogwarts on the thirtieth of August - he intends to take the school without anyone knowing about it. By doing so, the returning students will walk right into his arms on September the first. Once the train arrives at Hogsmeade, the attack on the Ministry will commence. I have prepared a plan to gain entry to the school and I would appreciate it if you could persuade Scrimgeour to allow us access without opposition. Only by doing this can we hope to have the Dark Lord where we want him. Provided of course, you have kept up your end of the bargain,' he added, his eyebrow arched in question.
'We have destroyed another two Horcruxes if that's what you mean,' replied Harry.
'Indeed? I am gratified to hear it. What were the objects that you destroyed? Was I correct about the graveyard?'
Harry nodded. 'You were correct - the Horcrux was contained within the gravestone. It was activated by the ring that cursed Dumbledore.'
Snape's eyes glistened at the news.
'But,' continued Harry, 'when we activated the key it alerted Voldemort. He must have created a link between himself and the stone. Just after we released and destroyed it he showed up in the graveyard.'
'What happened?' Snape asked breathlessly.
'He didn't see me - I had fallen after destroying the soul fragment. He saw Ron and Hermione before we escaped though.'
Snape considered Harry's words for a moment. 'This explains a lot,' he finally said. 'The Dark Lord has was furious on Saturday and ordered attacks on the Weasleys and Grangers. He also disappeared for a few days. I presume he was checking on all of his Horcruxes. He will know now.'
Harry nodded. 'He won't be able to check the one at Hogwarts until he gets there on the thirtieth. That has been destroyed too.'
'What was it?' asked Snape, his curiosity getting the better of him.
'It was Riddle's award for special services to the school.'
Snape closed his eyes. 'All this time and it was sitting right under our noses. A pity.' He opened his eyes. 'You do realise that this changes things somewhat?'
'In what way?'
'Up until now, the Dark Lord has been oblivious to the destruction of his Horcruxes. Now that he knows, he will be more on guard than usual and he will be particularly protective of his remaining Horcrux. He has always kept that snake close; I surmise that he will keep it even closer now.'
'So what do we do?' asked Harry. 'Do we take them together?'
'If we must, but I am hopeful that it will not come to that. I have made contingency plans for such a scenario. I want you to work on the assumption that Nagini will be destroyed before you have to face him. Understood?'
Harry gave at his former Professor a long look. He knew he was being asked to take a huge amount on trust here. Finally he nodded. 'Understood.'
'Good.' Snape paused before continuing as a roar from the pub regulars indicated that someone had scored in the football match. He waited for the hubbub to die down, his face betraying his displeasure. Harry found the whole situation hilarious.
'Something amuses you, Potter?' sneered Snape.
'Oh, nothing really. I just never had you down for someone who enjoyed this sort of thing. The art gallery I can understand, but this?' he indicated to the pub at large with a sweeping gesture of his arm. 'I never figured you for a bar fly, Severus.'
'There are a lot of things you don't know about me,' snapped Snape. 'Why would you presume to know what my personal preferences are? As it happens, I enjoy the anonymity of Muggle pubs as it is one of the few places a man can be alone when surrounded by others. No one bothers me in a place like this.'
'You hardly encouraged me to find out what your preferences are, did you? You hated me before I even set foot in Hogwarts.' Harry could not keep the bitterness from his voice as he said this.
'That is of no importance,' replied Snape.
'Considering the destruction of Voldemort has been left to the two of us, I would say that it has become quite important, wouldn't you? Why do you hate me so much? Is it purely because of my father? Because if it is then you are a pettier man than I gave you credit for. The sins of the father should not be visited upon the son.'
Snape did not reply for a moment, and Harry thought he had gone too far as his former Professor had a look of pure rage on his face. When he finally spoke, it was done haltingly, as if he was measuring each word before speaking.
'I must confess that my relationship with your father did not help, but that is not all there is to it.' He sighed. 'I have known since your parents were murdered that you were the one marked to destroy the Dark Lord. Dumbledore informed me of the full extent of the prophecy after they died. I must confess that I resented this as I had always believed that it would be I who had the honour of performing such a deed.'
'Honour?' asked Harry in disbelief. 'You call being orphaned as a baby and having a madman trying to kill you an honour?'
Snape ignored the outburst. 'What made it worse was the fact that it was quite plain from the start that you would not be up to the task. You knew nothing of our world and you coasted through school as if it was all a game. It is true I was harder on you than others, but this was mainly because I knew that you needed to be tougher than the others. The fate of our entire world rested on your shoulders and yet you did not seem capable of taking even the most elementary magic seriously. I was angry with you, and I must confess that my hatred of your father made this anger easier to harness.'
'That can't be it,' replied Harry. 'You weren't just angry with me. You despised me. You do despise me,' he corrected. 'Why?'
'Because you received all the credit for something you never did,' replied Snape, and this time there was real emotion in his voice. 'I had been working in secret against the Dark Lord and yet I was despised by my own kind who believed I was a Death Eater. I was put on trial; I was spat upon and shunned and all because I was forced to work in secret. And then your mother - a woman I had a very high regard for - gave her life to save you and in doing so diminished the Dark Lord for years. And who received the credit for this success? Who received the adulation and the goodwill? You did. A worthless wizard who had no idea of the sacrifices made on his behalf. That is why I despised you.' Snape was breathing heavily after this outburst as if the act of finally releasing his pent up emotions had taken a physical toll.
Harry said nothing for a long moment; instead staring straight into the eyes of the man who had tormented him for six years. 'You had a high regard for my mother? Even though she was Muggleborn?'
'I did. Your mother was one of the few people I have met who judged me for what I was, not for what I was perceived to be. I will be forever grateful to her for that. It is the deepest regret of my life that I allowed her fondness for your father to come between us. We parted in anger - I said something unspeakable to her such was my rage with your father - and I have never forgiven myself for that folly. You are a living testament to the greatest mistake of my life and I suppose I had difficulty in dealing with that. How could I not resent you?'
Harry digested this new information and discovered that he actually felt sorry for the man sitting in front of him.
'I neither need nor want your pity, Potter. Save it for those that give a damn,' said Snape, suddenly.
Why do I always forget this man can read minds, thought Harry. 'You are wrong you know,' he finally said.
'Wrong? About what?'
'About the biggest mistake of your life. It seems to me that parting from my mother in anger has not been your greatest error. No; your greatest folly has been to allow the bitterness to eat away at you all these years.' Harry was becoming angry now. 'You knew all along that I would have to face Voldemort and yet you threw every obstacle you could in my way because of the anger you felt for a mistake that you made. Your mistake, Severus, not mine. Is your 'high regard' for my mother so shallow that you are willing to carry your bitterness for twenty years and vent your own frustration on her only child? Is that what she would have wanted, do you think? Or do you think she would have wanted you to help her son in any way that you could so that he would be ready to face the destiny that had been thrust upon him?' Harry's tone was scathing, the contempt that he was feeling obvious.
Snape looked as if he had been slapped. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing was forthcoming. Instead he lifted his tumbler and took a long drink of whisky. Harry was astonished to see that Snape's hands were actually shaking; that the normally unflappable Potions Professor was actually unable to control his own movements. At seeing this, Harry's anger abated and once again a great feeling of pity washed over him for this lonely, twisted man sitting before him.
'I'm sorry,' Harry finally said. 'I went too far. I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have presumed to understand. And for what it's worth, I think my mother would be grateful that you are helping me now, despite your feelings for me.'
Snape looked up from his glass. 'You mean that, don't you? Despite everything you still feel sorry for me and are trying to make me feel better? I have said before Potter, your sentiment is a weakness that the Dark Lord will use to destroy you.'
'It isn't a weakness, Severus. Dumbledore taught me that. My sentiment, as you call it, is what makes me different from Voldemort. Whether he destroys me or not is irrelevant in that regard. By remaining true to myself I cannot be beaten. If I was ever to forget my humanity, however, then Voldemort's victory would be absolute. I will never allow that to happen.'
Snape seemed to consider this. 'I will never understand Gryffindors,' he said, shaking his head ruefully. 'I will not pretend to you, Potter; I don't think we will ever be able to lay our past differences aside, but I promise that I shall help you in any way that I can. For your mother's memory, if nothing else. And for what it's worth, I don't despise you. Not anymore.'
'Thank you,' replied Harry, gravely. He wanted to move past this; the conversation had become too personal; too raw for both of them. He considered what to say next.
'So, you said you wanted me to arrange access for you to Hogwarts on the thirtieth? You must have a plan in mind. What do you propose?'
Snape seemed grateful that the conversation was moving onto more familiar ground.
'Yes, as a matter of fact I do have a plan in mind.' He lifted the whisky bottle and poured Harry another glass, almost as if it was a symbol of the new understanding the two of them had reached. 'Here, drink up and listen. There is a lot for you to take in.'
Thursday 21st August 1997
Rufus Scrimgeour leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression on his face. He was sitting at the kitchen table in The Briars accompanied by James Walsh, Ron, Hermione and Harry. He had just spent the last ten minutes listening patiently as Harry narrated his account of his meeting with Snape - including his final request to meet at the same time and place in one week - and was taking a few moments to digest the information. He had not said anything, preferring instead to let James Walsh ask the questions when something needed clarified. They were able to enjoy some privacy for this conversation as the 'lodgers' had all left the previous evening. Rufus had finally sorted out alternative accommodation for the Weasleys and Grangers.
'So Voldemort is planning to capture the school a few days early?' he finally asked.
'He is,' replied Harry, 'and Snape suggests that we let him capture it. That way he may be lulled into a false sense of security. Snape explicitly asked that we do not interfere when Voldemort makes his initial move on the thirtieth. He also needs us to lower the protections on the castle.'
James nearly spat out the tea he had been drinking, such was his outrage. 'He's not asking much is he?' he said sarcastically. 'Only that we surrender the strongest bastion in magical Britain to someone who wants to bring down our society. Why would he think we would be willing to do that?'
'Because he says that for once the Minister of Magic is someone with the brains to know that it is the right thing to do,' replied Harry, looking directly at Rufus. 'He said that the Minister would appreciate the reasons and would agree.'
All eyes turned to Rufus and he found himself enjoying the moment. So Snape thinks I am intelligent? He thought. Coming from that man, I really will take that as a complement. He smiled at the expectant faces.
'Snape is correct, and I would add that I am extremely glad that he is on our side after all - he would make a formidable enemy.' He noticed the looks of confusion on the faces of Ron and James, but was not surprised to note that both Harry and Hermione had a look that suggested that they too appreciated Snape's plan. 'If we let Voldemort take the castle unopposed then we will have him where we want him. He will be expecting the students to return on the first of September so we have over a week to formulate our plans. We know now that he will be in Hogwarts from the thirtieth and he will be in a comfort zone, thinking that he is the hunter waiting to spring the trap. Instead, the hunter has become the hunted. He is now the one walking into a trap.'
'But the school,' said Ron. 'How can we let him take Hogwarts?'
'We can let him because we finally get to know where he is. I will have every available Auror ready to spring the trap. This is the chance I have been waiting for since his return. He will be expecting a trainload of harmless students; he's in for a big surprise.' Rufus could barely contain his excitement and had punched his hand as he said this.
'Do you think you are strong enough to take him?' asked Hermione. She felt the eyes on her at the question and almost wilted under Rufus' scrutiny, but she ploughed on. 'I mean, this is Voldemort we are talking about; not to mention his Death Eaters - there could be about fifty of them. Let's not forget how powerful a wizard he is.'
Rufus regarded her for a moment. 'Don't worry, Hermione; I am not likely to underestimate him - or his followers. It is true; he is probably the most powerful wizard alive today and he possesses many, many qualities. But I have the numbers - I can call upon at least 150 Aurors. Voldemort is about to discover that quantity is a quality all by itself.'
He stood up abruptly and indicated for James to do likewise. He looked at his watch. 'We have to go - no time to join you for lunch I'm afraid. We have a lot of planning to get through in order to have everything ready. Don't worry; I will keep you informed of everything that we do.' He strode towards the fireplace. 'I will be in touch, Harry' he added, shaking hands with him before joining James in the fireplace.
'This is the best news I have had in a long time. Thank you, Harry' he said, before disappearing in a flash.
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, taken aback by the suddenness of Rufus' departure.
'I hope he knows what he is doing' he finally managed to say.
********
Just over an hour later the three friends sat having lunch together, the meeting with Rufus not having destroyed their appetites - at least, not Ron's anyway. They had just finished eating when Ron asked the question that had been playing on all of their minds.
'So, are you going to tell him?'
Harry looked up at his friend. 'Tell who what?' he asked, prevaricating.
Ron rolled his eyes. 'Tell Rufus about the Horcruxes of course!' he exclaimed. 'Are you going to tell him?'
Harry took a moment before answering. 'I don't know,' he finally replied.
'Harry,' began Hermione, 'I think you have to tell him. He will be basing his plans on the fact that Voldemort can be killed. We know that isn't true at the moment. We have to tell him.'
'I know, Hermione. I know. It's just that Dumbledore made me swear not to tell anyone apart from you two. It just feels like I would be betraying him somehow if I was to tell Rufus.'
'That's just daft, Harry,' said Ron. 'Dumbledore couldn't have known how things were going to turn out. People could die if we don't tell Rufus. Dumbledore would understand that. If we don't have all the Horcruxes destroyed then there is no point in attacking.'
'Do you think I don't know that!' snarled Harry. 'Do you think that I don't spend nearly every waking moment thinking about what needs to be done?' He calmed himself with an effort, feeling disgusted with himself as he saw the look of hurt on Ron's face. 'I'm sorry, Ron; this isn't your fault.' He sighed. 'I will tell Rufus, but only once he has finalised his plans. I will tell everyone who needs to know. Fair enough?'
Ron nodded. 'Fair enough, Harry.'