Before the story continues, I would just like to say a big 'thank you' to everyone who has taken the time and trouble to post a review. I have never attempted anything like this before so all comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated. It is gratifying to know that there are readers out there who are enjoying the story.
Best regards
BF
Chapter 5 - Resurrection
Saturday 2nd August 1997
Harry awoke with a groan and peered up to a brightly lit ceiling. His mouth was parched and his head felt like someone was hammering on the inside of his skull. He groped instinctively to his right and fumbled around for a bit until he secured his glasses. Putting them on, he gingerly sat up. He found himself sitting in a large, well lit and extremely well furnished room. He was entirely nonplussed at discovering this.
Where the hell am I?
As if in response to his unspoken question, a door to his left swung open and Rufus entered, accompanied by a house elf. Sukey, wasn't it?
'Good morning, Harry,' said Rufus, with a smile. 'Glad to see you are back in the land of the living. How are you feeling?'
'Like I've drank two bottles of Firewhisky. Where am I?'
'In a Ministry safe house. We brought you here last night after the…unpleasantness. I'm sorry if our medical attention has not been of the standard you are used to, but it was the best we could do. Here, take this.' He indicated to a goblet that was being offered by Sukey. 'It's just a painkilling potion, Harry. It will make you feel better.'
Harry took the goblet and drained the potion in one. He felt better immediately and reckoned to himself that being a wizard definitely had some advantages.
'What happened?'
'Well, you know about the attack obviously. If it had not been for Sukey here, we would have both been scattered over about ten square miles of Scotland. House elves are not affected by Anti-Apparition charms; it's part of their magic, so Sukey was able to pull us both out just in time. We had a bumpy landing though; and you cracked your head on a rather sturdy ottoman I have in my office. It was a gift from the Austrian Minister. I never did like the blasted thing,' he added, with a twinkle in his eye.
Harry was not in the mood for levity at that point, so ignored the Minister's jest.
'Why bring me here?'
'Ah! That's the clever bit, Harry. What did you say you wanted me to help you with?'
'To disappear.'
'Exactly! You are now officially disappeared. Everyone thinks you are dead.'
'WHAT?'
'Everyone thinks you are dead, Harry. No one saw you get out of the Shack before it blew up. You don't exist anymore. Here; take a look at this.' He handed Harry a copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry looked at the headline, aghast.
Boy Who Lived Lives No More!
In an attack last night that can only be described as a catastrophe for the magical community, Harry Potter - The Boy Who Lived - was killed by You-Know-Who.
Potter had been waiting in the Shrieking Shack for a meeting with person or persons unknown to this reporter when he was cruelly attacked by You-Know-Who, supported by approximately twelve Death Eaters. In the resulting battle, the Shack was completely destroyed with Potter still inside. No remains have yet been discovered, but it has been confirmed by several witnesses that no one escaped prior to the destruction.
In a short statement issued late last night, Minister Scrimgeour has confirmed that several Aurors who were performing guard duties in Hogsmeade witnessed the attack but were unable to reach the scene in time. 'There can be no doubt that this is a grievous loss to the magical community. Mr Potter provided hope for many and his death is to be much regretted,' added the Minister.
When asked why Potter was in the Shack, the Minister had no comment to make. 'Speculation is futile at the moment. There will be a full investigation and we will be speaking to Mr Potter's friends over the next few days. Enquiries are continuing.'
Continued on page 2…
Harry didn't bother reading any more. Instead he looked at the Minister, his face ashen.
'Who knows?' he finally managed to ask.
'At the moment?' replied Rufus. 'You, me, Sukey and James Walsh. We had a hell of a job keeping it quiet, but we managed. I've been up all night dealing with the fallout.'
'But what about my friends? What do they know?' exclaimed Harry.
'They know nothing,' said Rufus. Harry made to protest. 'They know nothing at the moment, but we will tell them,' continued the older man.
'But they will think I am dead. That's…..that's horrible.'
'I know, but it can't be helped. They will be informed as soon as possible, but it's too soon right now. I know it is hard for them - they have cancelled the Weasley wedding - but it is for the best,' he added, with a hint of steel in his voice.
Harry considered this. He imagined how he would feel if he thought Ron or Hermione were dead. Not good. He would be devastated. It occurred to him that they would have witnessed the whole thing. They must be feeling terrible at the moment. There was something else bothering him though.
'"Person or persons unknown"?' he asked.
'Yes, I was wondering when you would get to that. I couldn't admit that I was there.'
'Why not?'
'Because if they thought I was there, then they would know I had escaped. If they knew I had escaped then they would suspect that you may have gotten away too. They could only have seen you - I Apparated in and did not go near the gap in the wall. There is no way they could confirm my presence. They would have seen you though, after you rather conveniently stuck your head out of that hole they blasted in the wall. Besides, how would I have looked if I said that I was there but escaped and left you to die? There are possibly quicker ways to commit political suicide, but I can't think of any at the moment.'
Harry digested this information. It was cynical; it would be hard on his friends; but it made sense and was necessary. One other thing though.
'How did they know?'
Rufus' expression hardened at this question.
'They knew because there is a spy amongst my closest aides; and that spy informed them of the time and place. There was less than twenty people who knew of the meeting - most of them Aurors - and I told them all different times for the rendezvous. I only told two people the real time, and one of them betrayed us.'
'Who did you tell?'
'James Walsh - and no, it was not him, Harry. I have known James for over thirty years and he is like a brother to me. We were partners as young Aurors and he has saved my life more times than I can count - and vice versa. It was not James.'
'Who then?'
'Dolores Umbrage.'
'That foul hag! What are you going to do to her. When I get my hands on her…' he left the sentence unfinished, such was his anger.
'I am going to do nothing. For the moment anyway.'
'WHAT! How can you do nothing? She nearly got us killed!'
'I know, Harry, but I can use this to my advantage. I know she is the spy, but she and Lord Voldemort do not know that I know. From now on she will only tell her master what I want him to hear. Do not worry - when this is over, I will deal with her myself.'
Harry thought about this for a moment. It made his blood boil but he could see the logic in Rufus' argument. Better to use the bitch than expose her. For now anyway.
'OK. So what do I do now?'
'You rest, Harry. Relax. There is an extensive library here - perhaps you want to do some research? If not, there is plenty to amuse you. There are even some Muggle appliances to keep you occupied. I will contact your friends soon and let them know, but not right away. And the fewer who know, the better. Who can I tell?'
Harry's reply was instantaneous.
'Ron and Hermione.'
'OK, Harry. I will do it soon. I will be in touch and you can decide what you want to do next. Take your time - you have plenty of it now you are dead,' Rufus said, with a wicked smile on his face. 'You might want to read your own obituary; it's not many people who get to do that. Mark Twain is the only one I am aware of,' he added, before turning with a laugh, and leaving the room.
Harry felt a stab of resentment at the older man's jibes, but soon found himself seeing the funny side of things. With a laugh, he picked up the newspaper and began to read.
**********
Severus Snape sat at the large table in the main hall of the manor Voldemort was using as his hideout. He was joined by a score of his 'colleagues' as he waited for the arrival of the Dark Lord. There was a noticeable buzz in the air as the group smugly considered the success of last night's mission. Only Snape remained aloof from the rest of the group but then only he knew of the reality of the situation. He was as certain as a man could be that Potter and Scrimgeour had escaped, but there was no way of confirming this at the moment. Time would tell on that score.
His musings were interrupted as the main doors swung open and the Dark Lord entered accompanied by Nagini, with the snivelling Wormtail following close behind. It amused Snape to see how his master treated the little fool. Wormtail was nothing more than a valet to the Dark Lord and all knew it. He constantly humiliated the weaker man and made his life hell.
Snape stood along with everyone else and waited until his master was seated. Once Voldemort had signalled his consent, they all sat down and awaited his pleasure.
'Loyal servants! Today is a great day! I have finally rid myself of the Potter whelp and so taken my revenge. I have proven to the world that no one can stand up to Lord Voldemort.'
There were murmurs of appreciation at these words, and one or two of the others banged their fists on the table. Lord Voldemort held his hand up for silence, which was instantly achieved.
'However, there are one or two matters that do not please me. Wormtail! The newspaper please.'
In response to the order, Wormtail handed his master a copy of the Daily Prophet before sidling back into the shadows.
'It would appear that the mission was not a complete success. I had hoped to kill two birds with one stone but it appears that we only managed to reap one. Our old friend Rufus was not there, contrary to the information I was given. Would you care to explain, Severus?'
There was a bite to the tone, but Snape was unperturbed. He concentrated on keeping his mental shields up. He knew that if the Dark Lord had wanted to punish him, he would have done it earlier when he had first found out about Scrimgeour. Snape had thought the Minister would deny knowledge of the meeting, but he hadn't expected this tactic from the sly old dog. Snape knew that if Scrimgeour escaped, then Potter had escaped too; which meant that they were faking his death. Clever.
'Master, the information I received was that the meeting was scheduled for seven-thirty. It would seem that the Minister was delayed in travelling to the rendezvous - luckily for him. Our source assured me that it was set for that time, and the presence of Potter seems to confirm the veracity of the information. It was impossible for me to confirm Scrimgeour's presence without being discovered. I should have delayed the attack to allow for such contingencies. Please accept my most humble apologies master.' Snape bowed his head low.
Voldemort considered him for a moment before replying. Both Snape and the Dark Lord knew fine well that the order to attack had come from Voldemort - could only have come from Voldemort - and that Snape was taking the blame so his master did not have to.
'No matter, Severus. The Minister's time will come, have no fear of that. It is sufficient that we have managed to remove Potter for the moment. But I will not tolerate such failure in future. Is that clear?'
'Yes, master. Thank you, master.'
'What of the source, Severus? Is it blown?'
'I do not think so, master. I believe that enough people knew of the meeting to complicate any search for the leak. I would suggest that we do not use the source for a while though, as this could lead to exposure.'
'I agree, Severus,' replied Voldemort. 'And what of young Flint?'
'I am sorry to say that he did not survive his wounds, master. The impact of the explosion proved too much for him,' replied Snape. That Flint had died was a relief to Snape. He was the only other person who might have seen Scrimgeour. Had he not died, Snape would have had to kill him.
'Sorry to say?' exclaimed the Dark Lord. 'He is lucky he did not survive. I would have made his death much more prolonged and painful for making such a blunder.' He looked around the table. 'Rest assured I would have crushed the young fool. Potter could have gotten away after being alerted like that. I will not tolerate any such repetitions. From anyone,' he added meaningfully.
Silence greeted these words as each person at the table was aware of the capricious nature of their lord.
'You may go,' continued Voldemort. 'I have much to ponder. I will call when I require your presence.'
One by one, the Death Eaters filed out of the room. Snape chanced a look back at the Dark Lord as he sat musing.
Things were going to get interesting.
***********
Hermione Granger lay on her bed and finally allowed the bitter tears of grief to fall down her face. The feeling of shock that had overwhelmed her since the Shack had blown up had finally gone and now she finally had to face up to the awful truth.
Harry was dead.
After the explosion, the attackers had quickly disappeared allowing her and the others to charge up the hill in order to find Harry; but to no avail. They had found nothing amongst the debris to indicate that he had even been there and Moody had quickly ordered them to leave when he had become aware of the arrival of Ministry Aurors who had been stationed in Hogsmeade. She could not remember leaving, being only vaguely aware of some strong arms holding her close before they had all Apparated back to the Burrow.
She hadn't lingered to hear Moody break the terrible news to the others; all she had done was to quietly issue a curt instruction to Ron to say nothing of Harry's mission before rushing upstairs to her room in order to be alone. She had not cried then; it was as if her whole system had shut down owing to an inability to accept the dreadful news. After a period of time - she did not know how long - Molly had rapped her door and told her through her tears that there she had left a sleeping draught on the other side of the door. She'd had to force herself to collect it and had drained it quickly, praying for any kind of relief from this living nightmare.
It had done the trick as she had fallen asleep almost instantly, but the dawn had brought its own misery.
When she woke, she was aware of a moment of pure peace before the crushing memory had kicked in.
Harry was dead.
The acceptance of this fact had almost destroyed her. She had lain on her bed, still in the same clothes as yesterday, and had wept the bitterest of tears as she began to examine the Harry shaped hole in her life. And that examination had caused her to realise one simple truth.
She loved Harry.
Not as a friend; not as a brother; but loved him. She had loved him for a couple of years but had subconsciously fought the feeling within her because she believed that it would not be reciprocated. The realisation that this discovery of her love has come too late had broken her.
A number of people had come to her door to speak to her but she had refused to acknowledge them - even Ron. He had come to inform her that Scrimgeour had not even been in the Shack but she hadn't wanted to listen. It was then that he had pushed a copy of the Daily Prophet under the door for her to read.
Seeing the news in black and white had killed any lingering hope that she clung to. The stark, harsh words merely served to confirm her worst nightmare.
Harry was dead.
Her isolation was broken by a short rap on her bedroom door.
'Hermione?'
It was Ron. She did not want to speak to him right now. Indeed, she did not want to speak to anyone.
'Hermione? It's me. Will you open the door? Please?'
She ignored him. She was well aware that he would be suffering too, but there was no room in her heart for sympathy for anyone else at the moment. She doubted that there ever would be again.
'I know how hard this is, Hermione, but we need to talk. We have to discuss what we were doing before…' he couldn't bring himself to say it. 'Look, it may be too soon to deal with the Horcruxes, but we must think about it. I haven't said anything to anyone yet, but I reckon we will have to before long. Come and speak to me when you feel up to it. I need you.'
She heard his footsteps disappear down the stairs and fought against the tears that threatened to burst forth from her again. Didn't he realise that none of that mattered any more? That Voldemort had won? That nothing she did from now on had any purpose or meaning? That the only thing that mattered had happened and had now changed everything?
Harry was dead.
***********
Sunday 3rd August 1997
Ron Weasley sat at the kitchen table and poked at his breakfast with his fork. He had no appetite at all, and had barely eaten anything since getting home on Friday night. He was still in a state of disbelief about Harry's death and was constantly expecting him to walk in the door as if nothing had happened. He had shed a lot of tears at the loss of his friend and could not come to terms with events. Even the postponement of the wedding yesterday seemed trivial in light of what had happened.
After the Shack had blown up he had stood rooted to the spot. He had been aware of Hermione's screams but his brain could not make his limbs function. Moody had taken charge, for as soon as Voldemort and his minions had Disapparated, he had led them to where the Shack had stood in a fruitless search for Harry. But they had found nothing - not even a trace. It was as if he had never been.
The arrival of Ministry Aurors had been the signal for them to disappear themselves and they had come back to the Burrow; he numb with shock and Hermione seemingly incapable of functioning other than to curtly order him to say nothing of Harry's mission, before running upstairs to her room. He hadn't seen her since.
Moony had been ashen and had not been able to speak. It had been Moody who had broken the news to everyone. The reactions had been predictable; unashamed grief.
The women had screamed at the news and their distress was heartbreaking to behold. Even his father had broken down in tears at the news, before regaining his composure. He had taken charge, ordering that the wedding be cancelled and that preparations be made for some sort of memorial service. But then the realisation that there was not even a body to bury had hit home, causing yet more tears.
For all the anguish of his family, however, the person Ron was most worried about was Hermione. She seemed beyond grief; locking herself in her room and refusing to speak to anyone. He had tried to comfort her but she had point blank refused to answer him. He was at a complete loss as to what to do. He was feeling quite abandoned, a feeling that was made worse when Hedwig disappeared. He had no idea where Harry's owl had gone to.
Then the news had broken that Scrimgeour had not even been there. His claim that he knew nothing of Harry's intentions enraged him and he was still trying to decide how best to cut the man down. Harry's death had been for nothing and that old bastard had gotten away with it again. He had tried to tell Hermione the news but she still wouldn't open the door to him. Ginny had said that she had only heard her leave the room twice; both times only to use the bathroom.
He was jolted from his despair by a sudden knocking on the front door. He looked around the table at his brothers and father, who were also picking at their food. His dad stood and walked to the door, making sure once again that all had their wands at the ready. When he opened it, he was greeted by a familiar face.
'Mr Walsh,' said Arthur, the anger evident in his voice.
'Hello, Arthur. Might I come in? This is important. Very important.'
Arthur considered his options for a moment before letting the man enter. 'Alright, but this had better be good. You have a nerve showing your face here.'
For his part, James Walsh was nervous as he entered the kitchen. He knew he could not expect a warm welcome at this house, but the hatred in Arthur's eyes was extremely disconcerting; and he could feel the enmity of the others in the room. He had been told to ask Harry's two friends to accompany him to the Ministry, but Rufus had been shrewd enough to add a rider. His old friend had told him that if the Weasleys were overly hostile, he could tell them the truth about Harry. They would find out soon enough anyway, he had said with a smile. James decided to take the plunge.
'Arthur, could you gather everyone who is close to Harry please? Everyone in the house you know he trusts. No exceptions. I particularly need to speak to your son Ron and his friend Hermione Granger.'
Arthur gave an odd look to James, but shrugged his shoulders and went off to fetch the others. He came back a few minutes later with Molly, Ginny and surprisingly, Hermione.
She looked awful. Her hair was a mess, her eyes blotchy and red and her face swollen from the tears. She was still wearing the same clothes she'd had on two days before and looked wretched. Her normally lively eyes looked dead and she barely acknowledged the presence of the others. Ron had no idea what his father had said to get her out of her room, but he was glad to see her, even if she was a mess.
They all turned as Walsh cleared his throat.
'Arthur? Do you think you could place a silencing charm on the room please?' James noticed Arthur look at him questioningly, and continued, with a smile. 'I haven't survived more than twenty five years as an Auror by doing something as rash as pulling out my wand in a room full of hostile people. Could you do the charm? Please?'
Arthur quickly - almost disdainfully - performed the charm, not once taking his eyes off James as he did so.
James took a deep breath.
'What I have to tell you must, and I mean must, remain in this room. I cannot stress to you enough the sensitivity of the information. I had considered making you take the Unbreakable Vow, but I believe your word will be sufficient. Do I have your word?' he asked them.
They nodded, only Arthur spoke.
'Yes, you have our word. Now would you please just get on with it?' There was a hint of exasperation in Arthur's tone, but something else too - excitement.
James took it all in his stride.
'Harry's alive,' he told them.
***********
Hermione Granger sat outside the office for the Minister of Magic, struggling to contain her excitement. She was with Ron, and both were awaiting the arrival of Scrimgeour who had requested an interview. Her mind was racing with a million thoughts and she was even having difficulty sitting still, such was her current condition. The news brought to her by James Walsh had been so momentous that she was still trying to come to terms with it. One minute she was so happy she could literally jump for joy. The next she was furious with Harry for putting her through such an ordeal. That it was probably not his choice was a minor detail as far as she was concerned.
'Harry's alive,' James had said. Two simple words that had changed her life.
The reaction to these words had been predictable. First incredulity; then realisation of the truth; then bedlam. Walsh had almost been suffocated by the surge of people that had pressed upon him when he broke the news. She smiled to herself, recalling the phrase 'don't shoot the messenger.' In this case, the messenger had almost been slain by the outpouring of goodwill.
She herself had not seen all of this. She had merely put her head in her hands and wept - only this time with tears of relief and joy. To say the last few days had been difficult for her was an understatement. She hoped never to go through such an experience again.
But it was alright now. Everything was alright now. She smiled at the thought; indeed, it took all of her willpower not to laugh out loud. There had been much laughter this morning.
After finally releasing Walsh from a vice like embrace, Arthur had cracked open the Firewhisky, much to Molly's horror.
'Arthur, it's half past nine on a Sunday morning for goodness sake! What are you doing drinking at this hour?'
'To hell with the time, dear! This is a cause for celebration. We can expect great things from Harry after this!' Arthur had exclaimed. His exuberance was contagious.
'What do you mean?' asked Molly.
'Well, the last guy to die on a Friday and come back on a Sunday didn't do too badly, did he?'
'Arthur Weasley! That's…' began Molly, horrified.
'…quite possibly the funniest thing you have ever said,' finished Fred, who slapped his father on the back, tears of laughter streaming down his face.
'Dad?' Ron had asked, once the laughter had subsided. 'What did you say to Hermione to get her out of her room?'
Arthur had looked smug. 'I told her that we were going to get some good news about Harry.'
Ron was agog. 'How did you know?'
Arthur smiled. 'Mr Walsh here made a slip. He asked me to "gather everyone who is close to Harry - Everyone in the house you know he trusts." Note the use of the present tense. Is close to Harry; not was. Trusts; not trusted. I knew then that James knew that Harry was alive.'
Hermione suppressed a giggle at the memory. Arthur had been in fine form and was so pleased with himself for being right. Everyone had been in a silly - almost manic - mood. It had taken a while for things to calm down enough before James Walsh could relate Scrimgeour's request for an interview with her and Ron. He had hinted that they would get to see Harry, so she did not need to be asked twice. She had raced upstairs; washed; changed and then come back down, before polishing off a large breakfast. She had been ravenous and had eaten enough bacon to feed a small country. Or even a Ron.
James had been quite serious after that. He had stressed to everyone the importance of keeping Harry's 'rebirth' a secret. Arthur had stated that there were a few others who needed to know - such as Lupin, Moody, McGonagall and Hagrid - and James had assented. Hermione was glad - she had cursed Moody for preventing her from running to Harry's rescue. She knew now that he had actually saved her life. She made a mental note to thank him later. James had then explained to both her and Ron the importance of concealing their emotions when they got to the Ministry. If they were laughing and joking, they would arouse suspicion as their best friend was supposed to be dead.
'Just pretend that you are still angry with Rufus - that shouldn't be too difficult,' James had added, with a wink.
And so they had come to the Ministry to see Scrimgeour. On arrival, she could feel the eyes on her and Ron when they were walking through the Atrium. It had taken all of her willpower not to give the game away by looking happy. However, once she remembered how she had felt on Friday and Saturday, the pretence had been much easier.
She looked up as Scrimgeour entered the outer office accompanied by Dolores Umbrage. Her eyes narrowed. She had never forgiven the woman for her treatment of Harry in their fifth year and she was not about to make allowances for her now.
'Good Morning Miss Granger, Mr Weasley,' began Rufus. 'Thank you for agreeing to this interview in what must be extremely difficult circumstances for you. Please, follow me.' He led them into the inner office and indicated that they take a seat.
Once they were all seated, Hermione and Ron just sat and stared at the Minister and waited for him to make the opening gambit. Scrimgeour looked nervous. Good, she thought, he should be nervous. Finally the Minister decided he had something to say.
'I have just a few points to go over, if you don't mind? I was wondering if you would be able to shed any light on Harry's activities prior to Friday's…events. I am sorry that I have to ask, but any information you could provide may be of extreme importance to the Ministry.'
'Before we begin,' began Hermione, 'I want to make it absolutely clear that anything we may have to say is for your ears only. I refuse to have any discourse at all with that woman,' she finished, indicating with a nod towards Umbrage.
'"That woman", as you so delicately put it, Miss Granger, happens to be a valuable aide of mine. I would be grateful if you could put past differences aside and allow her to remain,' replied Rufus.
His request was met by a stony silence from both Hermione and Ron.
Scrimgeour looked perplexed. He was obviously torn between a desire to hear what they had to say and his wish to have his closest advisor present. He finally turned to Umbrage with an apologetic look on his face.
'Dolores? Would you mind leaving us? I hate to have to ask this of you, but I would be grateful if you could comply with this request, however unreasonable it may seem.'
Umbrage looked furious, but was in no position to argue with her boss.
'If you are quite sure, Minister?' she asked. Scrimgeour nodded. 'Well, in that case, I will wait in my office. Of course, if you need me for anything, you know where to find me,' she simpered.
Rufus rose from his chair and escorted her to the door. 'Thank you, Dolores. I will of course keep you informed of any developments,' he said, closing the door behind her. Once it was shut, he locked it and rested his head against the wood, waiting a few moments for the sound of Umbrage's footsteps to disappear. Finally, he turned and slammed his fist against the wall.
'Foul, evil, bloody bitch!' he exclaimed.
He turned to Ron and Hermione who were sitting open mouthed in their chairs.
'My apologies for subjecting you both to the presence of that odious woman, but the charade had to be played out. Allow me to congratulate you, Miss Granger. I was hoping you would demand exactly that, but I couldn't be sure. Things could not have worked out better for our purposes. I will explain later, do not worry.' He moved to join them and sat down. 'Now, I understand that James has already informed you of Harry's resurrection?'
They both nodded, finally smiling, but still guarded.
'Good,' continued Rufus, 'it will save us some time. The short version of the story is that we managed to escape before the Shack blew up but that Voldemort does not know this - he thinks Harry is dead. We thought it a good idea not to disabuse him of this notion. Harry will be able to explain in more detail later, but I hope this explanation will suffice for now?'
'Why didn't you tell us before now?' asked Hermione. 'We have had a rough couple of days.'
'I know, and I am sorry, but we could not inform you sooner. If we had then it is possible that the secret would get out. My first priority was to get Harry somewhere safe and treat his injuries - he's quite alright, nothing serious,' he added before Hermione or Ron could interrupt. 'But this meant that we could not tell you right away. Harry agreed, although he was not happy about it.' He stood up and walked to the fireplace, removing some Floo powder from a small pot. 'I am sure you have both done this before. The place you are going to is called 'The Briars' and is quite safe, I can assure you. This fireplace is large enough to accommodate you both, so you can go first and I will follow. There is someone at the other end who is quite keen to see you.'
Hermione was finding it difficult to breathe, such was her excitement. She grabbed Ron by the arm and yanked him into the fireplace. Taking some Floo powder from the pot she paused and eyed Scrimgeour before leaving. She tried to look severe, but could barely contain her smile. The older man smiled in return before she threw the powder and shouted 'The Briars!'
***********
Harry Potter put down the book he had been reading on the table before him and glanced at his watch for the ninth time in as many minutes. He was aware that his two friends were due to Floo in shortly and was steeling himself for what he believed would be a very awkward confrontation. He was desperate to see them both again but knew that their reaction to finally seeing him after a few days of thinking him dead could be described as 'unpredictable' at best. He only hoped that they would at least give him a chance to explain things to them.
The room he was in was part of an extensive property that Rufus had originally described as a safe house. It was situated roughly twenty miles south of the city of Glasgow, in Scotland and was well off the beaten track. Its existence was known only to Rufus and it did not appear on any land registers - indeed all title deeds were classified. He had been well catered for with plenty to occupy him and Sukey had also been present to look after his domestic arrangements.
Despite this, it had been a long couple of days. He had wanted to contact his friends immediately but had agreed with Rufus' logic that to do so could jeopardise the secret. To occupy himself he had read a little; watched some TV and generally lazed around. In almost any other circumstances he would have enjoyed the experience, but he felt like a caged animal, such was the impotence he felt. He knew that he could not begin the Horcrux hunt without his friends, but waiting for them was proving to be as difficult a challenge as he had ever had to face. The only bright spot in the past two days had been the arrival of Hedwig.
He had no idea how she had tracked him down, and was long past questioning how she always managed to know where he was and when he needed her. Hagrid had done far better than he would ever know when he had selected her for him that day in Diagon Alley. At the moment, she was out hunting - something that always gave her pleasure.
He made to retrieve his book from the table but a sudden roaring from the fireplace made him jump out of his seat. He knew the moment he had been waiting for was finally here and he found himself shaking with nerves. Without conscious thought, his feet carried him to the middle of the room where he stood and tried to compose himself. After a moment, the fire turned a brilliant green and his two friends stepped out to stand about twenty feet before him.
Harry was overwhelmed. He saw Ron's face break into a huge grin and he returned his smile rather sheepishly. He turned his eyes to Hermione and tried to judge her reaction. She had closed her eyes on seeing him and was attempting to stifle her sobs.
'Hermione? It's alright. It's really me. Come here,' he said as he stepped towards her, his arms outstretched.
She walked towards him closing the distance between them when:-
WHACK!
The force of the blow to his face sent him crashing to the floor. As he lay there stunned he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Rufus had also arrived behind them and was grinning broadly at his predicament. He made to speak but was beaten to it by Hermione.
'How dare you!' she screamed at him. 'How dare you do that to me! Have you any idea what I have been through these past few days? I thought you were dead!'
Her voice had finally cracked at this last statement and it broke Harry's heart to hear her. He tentatively got to his feet and reached for his friend. Her tears were flowing freely now from a mixture of relief and contrition and he was able to embrace her.
'I am so sorry, Hermione. I didn't want to hurt you - either of you,' he added, looking over at Ron. I wanted to tell you but Rufus said we couldn't; at least not straight away. Can you believe that?'
She seemed to calm down at his words and nodded in his arms. Harry looked over to Ron and noticed that he too had been crying. He held out his hand towards him.
'Mate?'
Ron smiled and moved towards him. Instead of taking the offered hand he seized Harry in a bear hug that nearly lifted both him and Hermione from the ground.
'I was wondering what that old fool Scrimgeour was up to when he sent Walsh to see us this morning. It's good to see you, mate, but if Hermione hadn't slugged you, I would have for putting us through that,' Ron said, with a smile.
'Ahem! That "old fool" Scrimgeour happens to be standing directly behind you, Mr Weasley. Perhaps you may wish to reconsider your words?'
The three of them turned to the source of the voice and Harry realised that neither Ron nor Hermione had seen Rufus enter the room behind them. He noticed that Ron's face had turned the same colour as his hair and burst out laughing. Even Hermione managed a snicker.
'I'm sorry, Minister,' began Ron, 'I didn't mean it like that. Everything has just happened so fast that I forgot that this changes things.'
Rufus stared at Ron stonily for a moment and allowed the teenager to sweat for a bit before breaking into a grin.
'It's quite alright, Mr Weasley - I understand. After all, you have been through quite a tough few days. I can only hope that your opinion of this "old fool" changes somewhat.'
'It will - I mean it already has!' said Ron. His discomfort was obvious.
'Then might I suggest we make ourselves more comfortable?' continued Rufus. 'I am sure that Harry has much to say to you, just as I am equally sure that you have many questions for him.'
Harry nodded and made to disentangle himself from his friends in order to lead them to the sofa and chairs that were situated by the window. Ron released them from his embrace, but Hermione would not let go of Harry. Instead, she clung to his arm and would not even release her hold when they were finally seated on the sofa. They all turned to face Harry who now has a very sheepish look on his face.
'How did you escape?' asked Hermione who had finally recovered her composure and had once again engaged her mind.
'Sukey - Rufus' house elf saved us,' replied Harry. 'Elf's aren't affected by Anti-Apparition wards, so Rufus had the presence of mind to summon her. She managed to side along us to the Minister's office. If not, we would have been toast.'
'You mentioned injuries,' said Hermione, looking at Rufus.
'Yeah, well…' began Harry, 'when we arrived at the office I fell over and banged my head on the ottoman. Knocked myself out cold.'
Silence greeted these words until Ron and Hermione both burst out laughing.
'The ottoman?' Ron finally managed. 'You have faced dragons, Death Eaters and You-Know-Who and survived, but were finally undone by a piece of period furniture? Oh, this is great. Wait 'til I tell Fred and George.'
'Thanks, Ron, I knew you would be sympathetic,' said Harry. 'Anyway, at my meeting with Rufus, I had asked for his help in trying to disappear so no one would come looking for me. Voldemort gave us the perfect opportunity. He now thinks I am dead, and who looks for a dead man? The chance was too good to pass up. I'm just sorry I couldn't let you know.'
'That's OK, Harry, we understand. I forgive you. Just don't try anything like that again or I will kill you myself,' replied Hermione. She turned again to Rufus. 'How did they know?'
'Harry told me you didn't miss much, Miss Granger - he said you would ask that. Unfortunately one of my advisors turned out to be a spy,' replied Rufus.
'Umbrage?' asked Hermione.
'Yes, so now you know why that little scene in my office was so important.'
Hermione nodded. 'I take then that you are not letting on you have uncovered her so as to use her against Voldemort?'
Rufus looked at her with respect. 'I can see I am going to have to watch myself around you, Miss Granger. Nothing gets past you.'
Hermione flushed a little at the compliment, but turned back to her questions.
'Who else knows?'
'Apart from those informed this morning? Well, James Walsh obviously. And one other.'
'Can we trust Mr Walsh?' asked Hermione.
Rufus bristled a little at the question, but finally answered. 'A fair question, given the circumstances. Yes, I would trust him with my life. He was my partner in the Auror Division and I have known him for over thirty years. I trust him as much as you trust Ron or Harry. Good enough?'
'Good enough,' replied Hermione. 'Who is the other?'
'A goblin called Garnok. You see, the goblins would have followed the instructions in Harry's Will if we had not told him that he wasn't dead. He is the only one who knows and can be trusted completely. It is a matter of business and in that the goblins have their own rules, which they will not break.'
'You have a will?' asked Ron. 'Leave me anything?'
Harry smiled. 'A few things.'
'Minister, when this is all over, you can blow him up for real. I'd like to know what I would have got.'
Hermione looked furious, but Harry and Rufus burst out laughing.
'So what happens now?' asked Hermione, once the laughter had subsided.
'Well, right now you and Mr Weasley are going to return to my office to maintain the pretence. You can then return home to gather what you need before returning here. You will be able to Floo here from the Burrow, but only once. After that the fire will be sealed to all incomers except me. You will be able to use it of course. Then you can do whatever you want.'
All three teens nodded.
'Very well then, we must be getting back,' said Rufus. 'Umbrage will be expecting us to finish soon. I will go first. You can say your goodbyes then.'
They rose and made their way to the fireplace. Rufus did not hang around and Flooed out after saying goodbye. Hermione turned to Harry.
'I'm sorry for hitting you, Harry. I was just so upset with everything that happened,' she said, before pulling him into a hug.
Harry smiled. 'That's OK. Although, next time you want to put me on my arse, I would be grateful if you did it the same way you managed it the night of my birthday at the Burrow.'
Hermione looked confused for a second before the memory kicked in. She turned scarlet. Ron laughed.
'See you soon, mate,' he said, as he shook Harry's hand. 'You have no idea how good it is to see you.'
'You too, Ron,' replied Harry. 'See you soon.' He turned to Hermione, who was still in his arms.
'See you soon as well, eh?'
She nodded, and squeezed him tighter. Then she surprised them both by giving him a kiss on the cheek.
'Take care,' she said, before releasing her hold and stepping into the fire. Ron joined her.
'Minister of Magic's office!' they chorused together, before disappearing, leaving Harry staring at the empty fireplace holding his cheek where she had kissed him.