The Duelist

Hawkins

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 15/04/2012
Last Updated: 10/11/2012
Status: in_progress

Harry and Hermione realize their true feelings about one another during the time-turner adventure after saving Buckbeak and before saving Sirius. This leads to a different approach to the following events, where Harry fights Voledemort with Hermione by his side and blending more of Hermione's hard working approach. Story will feature a good Dumbledore, a good Ron. Will not be NC-17 to start with, but I expect it will eventually go that way, at least in bits, so rating it initially for safety.

Chapters

1. Chapter 1 - The Connection

2. Chapter 2: Quidditch World Cup

3. Chapter 3 - Fourth Year Begins!

4. Chapter 4: The Goblet of Fire

5. Chapter 5 - Training

6. Chapter 6 - The first task

7. House elves

8. Preparing for the Second Task

9. The Yule Ball

10. The Second Task

11. The Lull Before the Storm

12. The Third Task

13. The Graveyard

14. The Aftermath

15. Summer Training Begins

16. Black Isle

17. Training

18. Back to Hogwarts

19. The Machine

20. Dumbledore's Army

21. Journeyman Duelist

22. Duels with the DA

23. Holidays

24. New Opponents, New Allies?

25. Rise of the Phoenix

26. Flight of the Phoenix

27. The Phoenix Strikes!

28. Phoenix Guardant

29. Phoenix in Retreat

30. Phoenix Rampant

31. Phoenix Dormant

32. Phoenix Gathering

33. OWLs

34. Who Needs Badges?

35. Back to Black

36. Diagon Alley

37. The End

1. Chapter 1 - The Connection

Chapter 1: The connection

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and those she has sold rights to own Harry Potter. I am doing this for fun and neither expect nor will accept profit.

A spiral galaxy turned in a vast black expanse of space. Completely out of proportion, a man sat on an elaborate chair, floating above the pinwheel of stars. Long white hair and beard, deep purple robes, and a very thoughtful look on his face made him to appear to be God looking down on the firmament.

Albus Dumbledore was contemplating results after running magical simulations. He zoomed out, not wanting any detail to distract him from his contemplation. Not exactly a form of divination, his invention of magical simulations, run at thousands of times normal speed let him change small actions and observe outcomes. The simulations were not perfectly faithful to reality, so it only gave a sense of what would happen. He offset this by running the same scenario multiple times, gaining a sense of statistical likelihoods, but he sometimes wondered if for each simulation there was a different reality, a different existence created with each choice made.

A muggle swordsman and teacher had once said, “If you know the enemy and know yourself you need not fear the results of a hundred battles.” And that wisdom guided Dumbledore as he considered the children at the core of his thoughts. There were hundreds who would play a role, but three were at the very center.

Considered as archetypes, although to do so was to oversimplify, he thought of them as his natural, his scholar, and his savant.

The natural didn’t think about what he was doing, he simply acted and in the moment, it was generally the right action. He was at his best when he did not overthink. Surprise him to your peril, but lead him to agonize over a decision and he lost focus. Some of his flaws came from his friendship with one of the others, one who was perhaps too lazy for his own good.

The scholar was almost the opposite, although thinking of them as opposites was difficult, since sometimes they seemed to share one mind. Give her time to think, to research, and she was in her element. Give her time to practice and her spells would be so precisely cast that it was as if the textbook itself had come to life. Surprise her and she choked. Ask her to improvise and she would plead for time to read up on the topic. Her emotions were too constrained by the rigidity of her reason.

The savant was something that had not been seen in some time. Most modern wizards thought of magic solely in regards to spells, although every wizard used some non-spell magic, such as apparition. Only highly educated wizards went on to learn non-spell based magic, such as legilimency, although spells could duplicate the effects and were often used to teach the basics. However, old talents were rarely seen. Wizards who could control creatures, control plants, or control fire had once existed and still did. Hagrid, for instance, hadn’t much used his wand in years, but his knowledge of creatures was a form of magic. The savant was another, the bearer of a lost talent for strategy that hadn’t been seen in ages. Generals used to cultivate the talent, the best men like Napoleon, but now the talent was lost. The savant had great talent, but no discipline in developing it. He was born with it and never learned to build on what he found so effortless. Albus had great hope after seeing the strategic genius during that early chess game, but too often the savant relied on the scholar to guide them or the natural to lead them, leaving his own talent for mere games.

Dumbledore was gravely concerned. His simulations showed him something frightening. Under his tutelage, the trio was progressing, but not rapidly enough. Most choices led to loss, to death, and the reign of a Dark Lord over the entire wizarding world. No clear choices led to victory. He could not isolate the actions that might secure the future and that shook him. Since the beginning, though, he had recognized that there was one thing that might bring the victory and that was the power the Dark Lord knew not… but how to teach that? He tried, most recently by bringing Remus to Hogwarts, a connection to Harry’s parents and a potential father figure. He believed that was bearing fruit, seen recently in memories Remus shared of Harry’s casting of the Patronus charm, but the simulations showed that was not enough. Was anything he could do enough? He’d finally decided to do something different, to break out of his usual pattern of subtlety and deceit. He’d try to actually teach. He knew he took a grave risk. Prompting the natural to think, or rather to over think, was a danger, but he felt he must prod the situation.

Albus shook himself out of his reverie as a chime announced the gargoyle had been given the password.

“Finite Incantum” and the star scape disappeared, leaving the old wizard in his throne like chair behind the desk, as a knock sounded on the door.

“Hello, Harry. Have a seat.”

“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?” Harry said.

“Yes, Harry. I do in fact want to see you. Do you remember what we talked about in the hospital wing when you woke up after your encounter with Quirrel and Voldemort in your first year here?”

“We talked about a lot, Headmaster. The stone, Professor Snape. Did you call me here to talk about them?”

“No, Harry. I called you here to discuss the most important thing we talked about that day. I’m not sure if you realized how important it was, but that’s why I called you here. I have decided to begin tutoring you outside of class at times. Our lessons will be wide ranging and may follow no syllabus other than the wanderings of an old man’s mind, but today I want to start with the most important lesson. I will likely teach you spells, but I suspect that ultimately it’s no spell that will make the difference in this conflict. I think it’s an older magic. Before magic was tamed, before it was harnessed like an ox to the yoke, it still existed. The first form, perhaps the most primal form, is rooted in love. I talked to you about the protection your mother’s love left on you. Love is what made the difference that night. Love is what defeated Voldemort when he was driven out of Quirrel. I have a feeling it will make the difference every time you face him.”

“Sir, I don’t understand. How can I use love against him? It’s not like a spell I can cast on him… is it? I can’t love him. I don’t know what you mean.”

“That makes two of us. Think of this as less of a practical lesson and more of a theoretical lesson. I bring it up because since that day, you may have had few opportunities to understand love. Since coming to Hogwarts, you’ve been exposed to love, but I’m not sure you’ve understood it. There are many kinds of love, from Molly Weasley’s love of her many children that leads her to knit all year so they’ll each receive a sweater, to the much different love of Ron for Ginny. How can hexes show love in the same way that a mother’s hands knitting? That’s the amazing thing about love. It may perhaps be more magical than anything else in this magical world.”

“So you want me to think about love?” Harry asked perplexed.

“Yes, that’s exactly it. I want you to consciously think about it each time you see it. Notice it. Once you get good at noticing it, I want you to try to see it in yourself. Who do you love and who loves you? If you get particularly brave, I want you to tell those you realize you love that you love them. I think that will be the ultimate test of this lesson.”

“Ok, Headmaster. If you say so, but I think somebody is going to decide I’m crazy.” Harry said, thinking maybe Dumbledore was becoming a bit barmy.

“All I can ask is that you try. You’re older now. Lessons may not be as clear, may not have as defined an outcome. There may be times when we don’t know whether you’ve learned what I intended to teach or not. That may be part of the lesson in itself.” Dumbledore replied, “Now, off to your bed and goodnight.”

Harry walked back to the Griffindor tower, musing about this odd discussion as he went. Almost without thinking he arrived back at the common room, giving the password, “Fortuna Major” and entered. Inside, he found Hermione, having fallen asleep on the couch, a book on her lap. He fleetingly thought of Dumbledore’s words. What had triggered his thought? Hermione’s love of books? He scratched his head and ran his fingers through his thatch of messy black hair. Then he gently bent down, moved the book aside, and shook his friend. “Go to sleep, Hermione. It’s late.” He too walked up the stairs, his mind working on the problem.

The school year passed. Dumbledore’s words crossed Harry’s mind occasionally. He thought of them when working with Professor Lupin, trying to understand the positive magic of the Patronus and the persistent efforts of the professor to teach him a very difficult spell. He thought of them when playing Quidditch. His love for the game, his love of flying, his love of his team members and their love for him. It was difficult, but he slowly began to see love in more difficult places. Madam Pomfrey’s love of the students she healed, even though she often had a gruff exterior. Professor McGonnagal’s love for her Gryiffindors, even though she often had a very gruff exterior. Brotherly love with Ron even briefly crossed his mind, although thinking of love between men initially made him a little uncomfortable.

Most easily, though, he found himself thinking of love when he thought of Hermione. It started similarly to thinking of Ron. Friendship, shared struggles, and love. He thought back to the quest for the philosopher’s stone. Ron’s sacrifice on the chessboard quickly came to mind, but then he thought of his discussion with Hermione. He hadn’t thought of it immediately afterwards, but remembering now, he wondered what word she was thinking of as she trailed off. “More important things, like friendship and bravery and…” that last “and” hung in the air in his memory and he realized something had to come next, but only one virtue made sense next.

He thought of the time he spent by her bedside second year, after she had been petrified. He thought of his confused mix of feelings. Terror that she might not be saved, frustration that he had to solve the most difficult mystery of his time at Hogwarts without her help, but what he hadn’t thought of was the basis for all the fear. He was starting to realize, but he was afraid to let his mind come to the conclusion it wanted to. He only had a limited amount of experience with friendships and no experience with anything else. He would have been able to avoid this distressing line of thought if it hadn’t been for Dumbledore, charging him to think, setting him an assignment to open the barriers he’d placed around his emotions to protect him as lonely, frightened child, forcing him to face these confusing thoughts.

He was normal most of the time, it was just in the gaps that these thoughts penetrated. The rest of the time he was his usual self, perhaps even better. He grew in his ability to summon his patronus and if he’d stopped to realize, the thought exercises may have even contributed, because what was more associated with happiness than love?

His thoughts refocused to the present, waiting with his best friend at the edge of the forbidden forest, in sight of the Whomping Willow. They had to wait for over an hour, maybe closer to two, and couldn’t be seen. He had avoided talking to her about the conflicting thoughts Dumbledore’s assignment brought up, but he was always going to fail, because this was the one person he would always eventually end up talking to. Just about to speak, he was interrupted when she asked him about the Dementors.

“Harry, there’s something I don’t understand… Why didn’t the Dementors get Sirius? Why didn’t they get us? I remember them coming, I remember it was cold and all I could think of was hopelessness and fear. I think I passed out, there were so many of them…”

Harry described what he had seen, on the edge of passing out himself. As one of the Dementors leaned down to administer the kiss, a large shining silver something had come streaking across the lake, galloping to the rescue and forcing the Dementors to retreat.

Hermione’s mouth had dropped open while he spoke. A look of utter concentration was on her face. He was briefly distracted by a warm feeling as he realized how much he loved her “thinking look” before he pushed that thought firmly away, trying to keep up his defense mechanisms.

“But what was it?”

He startled a little, having lost the train of his story, but quickly recovered. He thought she was probably just trying to draw him out. There’s no way that Hermione hadn’t made the connection, but she often thought out loud. He realized it was her way of making sure others could keep up.

“There’s only one thing it could have been to make the Dementors go. A real patronus. A powerful one.”

“But whose? It must have been a powerful wizard to drive all those Dementors away. You say it was shining, did it create enough light to see who had cast it?”

“I saw, but I didn’t see well. I…I think I imagined it.”

“Harry! Who did you see?”

“I.” He swallowed, his throat dry. He cared too much what she thought of him. He was terrified she would think he was crazy. He was scarred by years of being called a freak by his own family and while he knew Hermione would never think that of him, he couldn’t get the fear out of the deepest darkest corner of his mind. “I think it was my dad.”

Hermione’s mouth fell all the way open and he thought he saw the beginnings of a look of combined alarm and pity, but that look barely hinted before it was gone to be replaced by one of complete sympathy and concern.

“Oh, Harry!” She grabbed him in a bone crushing hug and he let his head drop to her shoulder. He was afraid for her to think he was crazy, but he was afraid to fully release his emotions, afraid she would think he wasn’t brave, but his fear couldn’t prevent the bursting of all his defenses as his deepest mind realized that here was one person with whom he could feel safe. He broke down and cried. The fear and hopelessness of that moment, just hours before when they had all almost died combined with the thoughts of his father which carried with it the loss of everything good in his life and the beginning of years of abuse just overwhelmed him and he wept until he couldn’t weep anymore. Hermione just held him close and stroked his hair until finally he shuddered to a stop, feeling somehow cleansed, like the windows had been opened in a stale room and a fresh breeze had blown through. He stayed there holding her close, just enjoying her support. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. He looked at her face as she peered at him from just inches away. The look of devoted friendship and complete acceptance was so powerful he couldn’t look away. They just stared at each other for minutes.

Then something changed. He thought about what it might have been incessantly later that summer, but he never could place a finger on what changed. Was it the look in her eye? Did she close the distance slightly? For all the thought he put into it later, he had none at the time. He just reacted, like he reacted to a glint of light off the snitch or an air current buffeting his broom or the shift of weight as the basilisk had lunged at him, here was his talent and gone was the choking weight of too much thought.

He swiftly leaned towards her and pressed his lips against hers. He had time to see her eyes drift shut before he shut his and concentrated on the sensation of her mouth against his. He had never kissed a girl, had the barest idea of how it was supposed to go, but he didn’t strive for finesse, he just basked in the sensation of her against him, her lips very slightly open in surprise. Then another feeling, electrical, fizzing, like sparks flowing from one to the other. Was he feeling it in his lips? In his head? All over? It felt like the sensation he had when he cast the strongest spells he knew, like when he cast his Patronus, both the feeling of positive energy and joy, but also the feeling of magic flowing outward. Here there was another feeling, of magic flowing inward, as well. It felt like some circuit had been completed and his magic was flowing outward, but then somehow returning to him. It seemed to be building, to be strengthening, becoming frightening in its intensity. They broke apart, only to stare into each other’s eyes again. He noticed a silvery glow around them, like the white-silver glow he’d seen around the Patronus and it only slowly faded.

“Wow.” Harry mumbled. He was afraid he’d said something stupid, but he was quickly reassured.

“Yeah, wow.” Hermione gasped. “Harry… what? What made you…?”

“Did you not like it?” Only now did he question himself. Luckily at the time it was all reaction, but now a bit of the awkwardness and defensiveness that had kept this from happening far earlier crept back.

“No, it’s not that. Don’t think that! I’m just… surprised. We’d never hinted at that.”

“Dumbledore gave me an assignment. He said he realized I might have been a little isolated from a loving family after my parents and he thinks my protections have always come from love, so I needed to think about it. Well, I don’t know if I did exactly what he wanted, but as I tried, I kept coming back to images of you. So while I didn’t say anything, I have been thinking about you...this way…lately.”

She smiled and he felt all was right.

“So, Harry, what does this mean? Are we, can I call you… are we together?”

“I hope so, because I still feel that way. Do you?”

Hermione for once couldn’t talk and just nodded. She moved closer to him and just tucked her head under his chin and laid her cheek against his chest. He felt warmth and happiness flowing through him.

Eventually they saw the strange party come out. They saw the werewolf and realized that if they didn’t move, it would stumble right over them. They untied Buckbeak and moved to the cabin. Once inside, he put his back to the door, breathing heavily. She was leaned over, hands on her knees, also catching her breath. Then she looked up and grinned at him. He returned her smile and this time she closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. He felt the same magical connection, like putting your tongue against a battery, but where that was pain this was just joy, with a hint of the phoenix’s song. He noticed a low glow surrounding them when they broke the kiss. He gave her a quizzical look and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Accidental magic?” she suggested.

“I don’t know. I thought you might.” He said, knowing deep down she would be deep in the library, looking it up at her first opportunity.

“I’d better get back out there. I can’t see anything from here. I have to know when it’s time for us to move.”

“I’ll come with you.” She said, bringing along Buckbeak.

Together they crept closer to the lake. He was drawn along unconsciously and she, trusting him more now than she ever had before, followed with just a whispered warning, reminding him that they couldn’t be seen. His mind began to churn, making the intuitive connections and he suddenly had a flash of insight. The lake here… the curve there… he must be very near where his father had cast the Patronus. He realized the truth.

“Hermione, wait here! You can’t be seen. You weren’t seen.”

He rushed forward, suddenly completely confident. A happy thought was not hard to find and and his eyes fastened on the vortex of Dementors ready to drain their earlier selves, he felt a powerful surge of positive energy. He understood! He loved and was loved, he’d had his first kiss and had the hope and certain knowledge of many more to come.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he called. He didn’t realize it, but it was his adult voice, the voice of the man he was becoming, without crack or break that sounded out. Hermione watched him and never told him that this vision would power more than one Patronus in her future.

His wand bucked, recoiled, like something powerful had been shot out of it. Indeed, a giant glowing stag shot forth like a lightning bolt, almost knocking him down with the force of it. The light was blinding and he couldn’t look directly at it. The trees cast long shadows with sharp edges. The feeling of joy and happiness blazing out of the powerful Patronus started to disperse the Dementors before the stag even reached them, but once it did reach them, they avoided its horns like they might be fatal. The Dementors dispersed, fading into the deeper shadows of the forest as the mighty stag circled the unconscious bodies protectively.

“Harry! That’s very advanced magic. To drive away that many Dementors… I could calculate how much magic that would take, but it doesn’t make sense. You’re not supposed to be able to drive away that many Dementors with a single Patronus!”

“Well, you see, I knew I could, because I had. And I had the right memory to power it.”

At that, she grinned up at him.

They found cover as Snape, across the lake, began to stir. They watched as he moved off with the children on stretchers.

“It’s about time.” She said, looking at her watch, “It’s about 45 minutes until Professor Dumbledore closes the doors to the infirmary. It’s time to go.”

They watched McNair hurry from the castle, going to gather the Dementors for Sirius’ punishment. They climbed on the Griffin, Harry in front and Hermione pressed closely against him. He could feel her warmth along his body and he blushed, distracted by her body. He urged Buckbeak into the air and felt them all moving together, like one creature in flight.

Sirius’ rescue went smoothly, almost anticlimactically, after that. Harry did notice a brief look between he and Hermione, but it was so brief he didn’t have time to be embarrassed. In no time at all, they were back at the hospital wing. They were let in so smoothly that Madame Pomfrey never realized they’d been gone. Minister Fudge and Professor Snape had come in after realizing Sirius’ escape, but with their alibi, it was easily dismissed. A few bites of chocolate and they were swiftly in bed. Both children noticed an odd look from the healer as she gave them a quick glance before leaving. It almost looked like she wanted to say something else and they both caught their breath in fear. Did she know they’d been involved? Or could she somehow tell what had happened in the woods? She walked on, though, and they quickly fell asleep.

In the morning, Ron awoke. They gave him a brief overview of what he’d missed overnight, omitting only one very important part of the story, because neither of them felt quite ready to discuss it. After telling him the brief overiew, the three went walking on the Hogwart’s grounds and continued to discuss it. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, but none of them felt quite up to the trip.

Harry looked around at the lake as they sat on the bank and realized he’d never see it the same way again after last night’s adventure. He snuck a glance at Hermione, wondering if she felt the same, and caught her looking at him. She gave him a small smile, blushed, and turned away.

“Ron. I think Harry’s got something he wants to tell you about.” Hermione said.

“What?” Harry said, panicked. “I do?”

“Yes,” Hermione said firmly, “You do.”

“What is it mate? What do you need to tell me?” Ron said, puzzled.

Griffyndor’s Charge, Harry thought, and took a deep breath, “HermioneandIaredating.”

“What??” Ron said, “Slow down, I didn’t hear you.”

“Hermione. And. I. Are. Together.” Harry said, forcing himself to speak slowly and clearly. He felt much better when he got it out. Even if Ron totally lost it, he could deal with that.

“Oh.” Ron said, “Really? Well, that’s ok with me, I suppose. As long as it’s not strange around you two.”

Hermione squealed, surprising Harry who rarely remembered her squealing, and threw her arms around Ron. Harry patted both of them on the back, pleased his friend had taken it so well and hadn’t made it awkward.

As they were breaking the hug, Hagrid walked up, beaming joy at the opportunity to tell them Buckbeak had escaped. They all had to pretend surprise, but luckily, it was Hagrid and he was not that hard to fool. In the course of the conversation, Hagrid mentioned Professor Lupin was leaving.
“I’ve got to see him.” Harry said, standing.

“I’ll go with you.” Hermione said, walking with him. “Ron, we’ll see you in the common room after?”

They walked to Lupin’s office, the door open and his luggage already packed. The marauder’s map was open on the table and Remus had seen them coming. They talked about how Snape had spread the word that Lupin was a werewolf out of rage at Sirius’ escape.

“More importantly, though,” Remus said, “tell me about your Patronus.”

“How did you know about that?” Harry asked.

“There’s only one thing that could have driven off those Dementors, Harry.”

Harry told the story and described his Patronus’ stag form. Remus smiled at that, telling him about his father’s Patronus and animagi forms.

“What memory did you use?” Remus asked, with his normal serious expression, but just the hint of a twinkle in his eye.

“Umm, erm….” Harry blushed. He looked at Hermione again. He felt like he couldn’t stop looking at her and he wondered would his eyes always be drawn her way. She smiled at him, he smiled back, and looking back to his Uncle, he realized there was no need to answer.

“That’s another thing that reminds me of your father. Your mother was the smartest witch of her age, as well. He took until he was much later to convince her he wasn’t a complete git, though. Now take this,” Remus said, handing Harry his invisibility cloak, “I found it in the Shrieking Shack. You can take this map, too. Now that I’m no longer a professor here, I feel much less guilty about you having it.”

Remus finished closing his trunks, just as there was a knock at the door. It was Professor Dumbledore.

“Your carriage is here.” Dumbledore said, seeming unsurprised at finding Harry there.

“Goodbye, Harry.” Remus said, seeming to want to be gone as quickly as he could. Harry understood, feeling a tightness in his chest. He probably would have let Remus leave without much more goodbye than that, but Hermione ran up and hugged the professor.

“Boys!” he thought he heard her say, before he also gave Remus a hug. He thought he felt the man relax a bit and when he looked at him he saw tension ease from his face. Hermione gave him a significant look and he could tell she understood more than he did.

Remus levitated his luggage behind him, leaving through the front door.

Harry felt such a mix of emotions he wasn’t sure how he didn’t fly apart. There was joy of having rescued Sirius, having conjured a full corporeal Patronus, but there was sadness that just as he almost had family, he lost them. Sirius was still on the run and Remus was forced away, too. If it hadn’t been for Hermione, he thought he would be depressed, despite all that had happened, but nothing could overcome that joy.

He, Hermione, and Dumbledore discussed Trelawney’s brief prediction. They discussed Pettigrew’s escape and the wizard’s debt he owed Harry.

“Your father would have spared him, as well.”

Harry was embarrassed, but told the Headmaster about his initial belief that it had been James who had saved them by casting the Patronus charm and only later realizing he had to cast it.

“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Harry. I know you’ve heard what a striking resemblance you have to your father, except you have your mother’s eyes. Sirius also told me about the marauders and their animagi transformations.” Dumbledore said, “I remember your Patronus from the Quidditch game when Draco disguised himself as a Dementor, so there’s another connection. Do you remember what we spoke about earlier in the term? When we discussed love? I think you’re beginning to see what I mean. It’s the connections between us that make us stronger than Voldemort’s followers. They only have fear between them. Love is a much stronger thing. In fact, that’s something else I need to discuss with you. Madame Pomfrey noticed something unusual last night.”

Harry remembered the pause when the healer had hesitated before leaving them to sleep.

“What is it, Professor?” Hermione said, “Could you she tell we’d used the time turner?”

“No, although I did worry, since part of a healer’s training is to tell the chronological age of a child and while I warned her about your use of the time turner, since she would need to supervise your health and be sure you didn’t exhaust yourself, I didn’t want her to notice Harry had used it. His hours of use weren’t likely to be noticed, though. What she noticed was your auras. Auramancy is a magical discipline allowing one to see the magical field surrounding wizards and witches. It isn’t widely practiced, but is very common among healers. In fact, it is part of what distinguishes true healers from their associates. It allows very rapid diagnosis. While in the initial stages of healer training, student healers have to cast a spell to see auras, later most of them learn to cast wandlessly, non-verbally, and eventually use it instinctively almost constantly. Well, most wizards do not realize how much auras can reveal. Do you want to see yours?”

Hermione was focused. Soaking up knowledge and of course she would want to see. Harry strangely felt drawn to the information, too. They both nodded.

Dumbledore drew his wand and transfigured a desk into a large standing mirror. He’d placed it so they could each see themselves. The picture was very clear, it was obviously a high quality mirror. He waved his wand again and the picture changed. Around Dumbledore was a very bright, very golden light. It seemed strongest around his head, almost like a halo. Harry thought of medieval portrayals of Saints, but wondered why he would think of that, it was almost a Hermione thought. Around Hermione was also a golden aura, less bright than Dumbledore’s but more diffuse, extending further away. It was very homogenous and orderly. Around his own body, he noticed a green aura. It was bright, not as bright as Dumbledore’s and much less contained, blazing away from his body like a fire. It seemed drawn to Hermione and would spit out sparks and streamers towards her. Around his forehead, there was a darkness.

Hermione gasped, taking it all in. She started talking, trying to reason through what she was seeing.

“So Professor, your aura is the brightest, because your magic is the strongest. It’s also concentrated, because you have full control over it, which we can see by it being close to your body.”

“Very good! 10 points to Griffyndor. What else do you see?”

“Harry’s is bright, too. He’s probably also very strong magically, but he’s not very orderly and he doesn’t keep his magic as well controlled. My aura is in-between. It seems more controlled than his, less than yours. I’m not as powerful as either.”

“My dear, power is not as simple as that. Part of why my aura is bright is because it is all focused. You will learn that, too, but even that is too simple. Have you ever heard of occulomency? It’s a discipline to protect the mind. Closely related is an unnamed disciple to protect and control the aura. I can dampen my aura so that others can’t tell how powerful I am. Or I can push it out to make it obvious, if I want to make an impression. Almost every wizard does this instinctively, but some train very carefully. Usually a powerful occulomencer will also have a tightly controlled aura. Do you see anything else?”

“Well, Harry’s aura seems to like mine.” Hermione said, less seriously.

“Yes. His aura responds to you. Yours, too, although your aura is more controlled, reflecting your personality. Look closely.” Dumbleore waved his wand, warping the shape of the mirror, causing it to magnify.

They both noticed a wisp of light extending between the aura around their heads. Subtle, but more consistent than the streamers Harry’s aura kept shooting towards hers, there was a bridge between Harry’s green aura and Hermione’s golden. It wasn’t static, but seemed to flow, with some green sparking through Hermione’s aura and some gold floating through Harry’s. Now, with more detail of their heads, they could also see the black aura superimposed over Harry’s forehead. It had a very bright lining of green, like the green had concentrated around it. There was one place Harry’s aura was tightly controlled.

“What is that cord, Professor? And what is that around my scar?” Harry asked.

“Those are two good questions, Harry. First, about your scar. It’s a cursed scar and you can still see it in your aura. The first question is more interesting. Madame Pomfrey is well acquainted with your auras, as she sees them every time you’re in her ward. She says this is a new development. I think you formed a connection. Do you remember anything happening?”

“Well…” Harry struggled, trying to find a way to say something embarrassing. He wished he could just disappear.

“Harry, whatever it is, it may be important. You won’t be in trouble.”

“Last night, after we had rescued Buckbeak, but before I cast the Patronus, we kissed. I felt some spark flow between us and even thought I saw a light. I don’t know what it was. I thought Hermione would figure it out. We’re both from muggle houses, so I thought it might even be normal when wizards and witches kissed.”

Dumbledore gave a small smile, looking like a proud grandfather. “Ah, I see! Well, this is wonderful! Nothing to be embarrassed about, although if you get caught in the hallways I am afraid it will cost you house points. No, this doesn’t happen with every kiss. Far, far from it. If I’m right and not to be overmodest, I usually am, this is a very rare thing. Miss Granger can research it this summer, but I think you may have formed a nascent ‘soul-bond’. If so, it’s a good thing. I want to do more research and I’ll tell you more when I know more.”

“Harry and Hermione, this brings up one more issue, I meant to speak to Harry alone, but I think this changes things. You both know about the underage restriction on magic, don’t you? Well, I have been thinking. The restriction really only affects muggleborns, because when a spell is cast in a wizard household, the ministry has difficulty telling whether it was a child or the child’s parents. So for most of your classmates, like Draco Malfoy, or the Weasleys, there really is no restriction, except what their parents enforce. Some, like Mr. Malfoy, actually get extensive tutoring over the summer.”

“That’s unfair!” Hermione exclaimed, before realizing she’s interrupted the Headmaster.

“Yes, it’s blatantly unfair. It’s also shocking, when you realize you’re still the top Witch in your class. Harry’s not doing badly, either. This despite the fact that there are months and months when you can’t do magic at all. Those muggleborn students who aren’t strong academically or magically often have difficulty staying up with their class. I’ve thought extensively about Harry’s situation and I had a plan to let him continue his studies over the summer. You know I’m the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot? There are few perks that come with the job, but this is one of them.”

The professor pulled out two parchments with impressive seals. One had Harry’s name written on it and one had Hermione’s name.

“Touch your wands to the parchment.” Dumbledore directed.

The two complied and there was a flash.

“You can now cast spells at home. You are restricted to anything from the curriculum. Anything from prior years or covered by next year’s syllabus is fair game. Additionally, I have authorized the Patronus charm, since it is definitely not in the fourth year syllabus and I want you to be able to continue practicing, Harry.”

They spoke for a few more minutes and then Dumbledore dismissed them. Harry and Hermione walked towards their common room.

“What do you think?” Harry asked quietly, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Harry Potter! You are not going to feel guilty about this!” Hermione spat out, very vehemently, even stamping her foot.

“Well, I didn’t mean to stick you with some bond that you didn’t ask for.” Harry said, eyes downcast.

“Who said you did it? Maybe I did?” Hermione said, “Or more likely, something like this doesn’t happen like that at all. I think it may just be a visible sign of what I already know. I already knew how much I liked you, how good a friend you were. I already felt like I could complete your sentences, sometimes. To be honest, if Madame Pomfrey had said this had been there for a year, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

“Really?” Harry asked, “So you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Harry, what would I be mad about? Your my best friend in the world. If that’s visible in our auras, it doesn’t bother me. I’ll know more after I’ve had some time to read about. In fact, I might go there now. I’m so excited, Harry! I’m not mad, not only are we together, this summer I can actually practice magic, not just read about it!”

For the few days remaining in the term, the two noticed they were drawn to one another. They held hands, sat so close they touched, completed each other’s sentences. In short, they acted like all new lovers do and nobody thought anything else about it.

They returned on the train, agreeing to write constantly. Both had tentatively agreed to Ron’s invitation to the Quidditch cup. Having something to look forward to made the parting tenable, although just barely.

Soon, Harry was driving away from King’s Cross Station with the Dursleys, looking forward to being back with his friends as soon as he could.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was meditating on the ramifications of what had happened. If the bond did what he suspected it would, it could be a very good thing, indeed. What would the scholar be with the confidence of the natural? How could the natural progress with the focus and training of the scholar? Oh, this could be a very good development indeed!

A/N: Please read and review. I’m a new amateur author, so please be gentle. I know my work doesn’t approach my dreams, but I think it’s worth sharing, since I have enjoyed so many others’ work.

I can’t write a Dumbles. I have read and appreciated many works that made Dumbledore totally incompetent, senile, or evil, but when I think about Harry’s speech about being “Dumbledore’s man”, I can’t go down that road. I attribute his errors to the transition between a children’s story, where plot holes are expected and tolerated to a more mature work, where he should have realized and fixed the abuse. Ron is likewise flawed, but generally a good person. He will probably be OOC in my work, as he will mature more rapidly than he would have and be much less of a git than he probably would have been given the H/Hr relationship.

Snape is one of the most interesting characters for me, but was wasted. I don’t think JKR made any argument that would have Harry name one of his children after his long time tormentor. Would he name one of his other kids Dudley? I’m going to try to avoid any logical jumps like that.

2. Chapter 2: Quidditch World Cup

Chapter 2: Quidditch World Cup

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and those she has sold rights to own Harry Potter. I am doing this for fun and neitherexpectnor will accept profit.

Harry did something very un-Harry like. As soon as he got home, he sent an order to Flourish and Bott’s. He realized he could do this after receiving the note from Sirius at the end of term about how he had ordered the broom. He ordered all his books for the year and paid extra to have them rushed. He wondered if he might be coming down with the something, but convinced himself he was probably doing it to impress Hermione. He knew she would want him to be more studious and he wanted her good opinion more than he wanted almost anything.

They had discussed course schedules before leaving. He had started divination with Ron, but realized he wasn’t getting anything out of it. He mostly falsified his homework. She told him how arithmancy and runes formed a framework for some of the really advanced magic, such as wards. He remembered she’d said he shouldn’t mathematically be able to cast a Patronus capable of driving away that many Dementors and he felt that if a course could teach that, he needed to learn. So he’d borrowed her notes and textbooks. He wrote to Professor McGonagall and asked to change his schedule to drop divination and care to add arithmancy and runes. It meant he’d have to take a test on the first day, but he was confident he could make up the work.

He noticed the time at the Dursleys passed much faster with something to focus on. He spent his time doing chores around the house, but every spare moment he was in his room. Before the new books arrived, he went back through his old texts, ensuring he could easily cast each spell from the first 3 years. He slowly began to realize something about himself. While Hermione was often the first to cast a spell in lessons, he was usually not too far behind and once he learned a spell, he rarely forgot it and rarely made a mistake. However, with a new drive to impress Hermione, he found himself being somewhat obsessive. On the train ride back, Hermione had handed him a schedule she was going to follow and told him if he wanted to, he could follow it too. They could send Hedwig back and forth to discuss their progress. She also mentioned a muggle book she had read called “Outliers” that said the key to success in any field was to spend time practicing and 10,000 hours of practice was the key to mastering a task. She was excited that now with the permission to practice at home, she would start the year with actual experience casting spells, not just a book knowledge. Harry had always been more practically inclined and now with the chance to impress Hermione and cater to his own attraction to the practical application of knowledge, he was hooked.

Almost every day, they would write to one another. He initially worried about Hedwig, but he soon realized he had nothing to worry about. He theorized that his connection to Hermione was only one example and he also had a connection to Hedwig. So his magic and happiness strengthened the owl. He certainly thought Hedwig looked happy despite the frequent flights. He remembered the first letter from Hermione with the information she had pulled from some of the books from the library.

“Dear Harry,

I did find some books about ‘soul bonds’ and I convinced Madame Pince to let me take the best of them home. There has been extensive conjecture about soul bonds, likely because of the romantic nature. Some of the probably appeals to those who would not normally write books and so there is a lot of poor scholarship. However, to one who can separate the wheat from the chaff, I have found a solid, but not expansive base of information.

First, some of the romantic type books suggested we might become sick if separated. I worried, to be honest, but further research has reassured me. You have heard some say, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’? Soul bonds can be the same. With reasonably short separations and some form of contact, I suspect the bond will not be harmed and neither will we.

Second, magically, I suspect our magic will mix and intermingle in some way. I don’t know what effect that will have, I don’t know whether there is any good information about that, but I get the sense that perhaps we’ll grow more alike with time. My parents say that happens if you spend enough time together even without a soul bond, so I don’t know how significant this affect will be.

Yes, I did tell my parents about us. I did tell me mother about the ‘soul bond’ and I suspect she told my father. I notice she has been reading some of the books I finished with, so we’ll see what comes of that.

Finally, I have read that it’s progressive. How progressive, I think we’ll only discover with time, but there is apparently quite a range. Some bonded couples have only developed a tiny connection others have progressed to be almost fully integrated, able to share thoughts. Some of those with minimal connections have not even married, so it appears this is not going to force us into anything we don’t want. We will always be at least best friends, but anything more than that is up to us, at our own pace.

As for ‘us’, I remain very happy that there is an ‘us’. I think about you often and can’t wait to see you at the world cup.”

Affectionately,

Hermione”

Harry smiled, remembering the first letter. His reply back was not as long and not as well written, but he was getting better. He had never corresponded with anyone significantly before, but was finding he enjoyed it. Not as much as he would have enjoyed being with her, but more than he expected.

Besides being able to practice for the upcoming year, Dumbledore’s letter had another positive outcome. He had showed it to the Dursleys and proceeded to levitate the couch, solely for practice, of course. When nothing negative happened to him, they realized he was indeed authorized to perform magic at home. That, combined with mention of his escaped murderer Godfather, was making this the best summer at the Dursleys ever.

Other than the strange dreams and scar pain, it was a very pleasant holiday. He thought about writing to Sirius about his scar, but decided to wait until he was at the Burrow, because he didn’t want to take Hedwig away from her frequent Hermione-trips. He did tell Hermione and much as he’d expected, she was concerned. He suspected she would do additional research on dreams and curse-scars.

Very soon, the day arrived for his departure and the Weasley family arrived, in their typical fashion, floo-ing in to a boarded up fireplace. They departed after one small incident with a ten-ton-tongue-toffee.

Arriving at the Burrow, Harry found George and Fred, elated about their prank. Two young male Weasleys he didn’t know, probably Bill and Charlie, were there. Ron was sitting at the table. He saw all of this in a snapshot, just before being hit by a bushy-haired missile. Suddenly he had an armful of Hermione. He felt the same crackling, snapping flow of energy he’d felt during their first kisses.

“Why are they glowing?” he heard someone say.

“Erm…” he and Hermione broke from their hug to look at the others. “Dumbledore said something about a bond. He knows about it and thinks it’s a good thing. How is everyone?” Harry hoped that his nonchalant answer would satisfy everyone and they could move on.

“Dumbledore knows about it? Well, I guess I’ll ask him when I have a chance.” Mrs. Weasley said.

“You must be Harry! I’m Charlie.” Said a stocky, muscular young man, obviously used to outdoor work, probably from his job as a Dragon handler.

“Hi, Harry! I’m Bill.” Said a long redhaired man with a fang earring.

At that point, Mr. Weasley apparated in and the conversation quickly turned to the Twin’s prank on Dudley.

Harry snuck out of the kitchen with Ron and Hermione. Ginny tagged along and they all headed up to Ron’s room.

“Harry, what were you saying about a bond?” Ron asked.

Once securely in the room, with the door closed, Harry looked to Hermione, hoping she would explain.

“Ron, at the end of the year, Professor Dumbledore showed us our auras. Professor Pomfrey had noticed we had a connection and Professor Dumbledore said it was a ‘soul bond’.”

“A soul bond?” gasped Ginny, looking pale, almost sick. Harry wondered if she was scared due to her connection with the cursed diary a year earlier.

“Yes, a soul bond.” Said Hermione firmly, “No matter what you’ve read about them, it’s likely a bunch of drivel. It doesn’t mean we’re married at 14. It doesn’t mean we can communicate telepathically. It just means we’re close. Professor Dumbledore is quite confident this is a good thing and he has assured us we have nothing to worry about.”

They went to Ron’s mirror and Hermione pulled out her wand.

“Auramens”. Ron and Ginny could see what Dumbledore had showed them at the end of the last term. Harry noticed the cord between them looked more substantial. There were more gold flecks in his green aura and more green sparks in her golden aura. Additionally, he thought her aura might be a touch brighter than it was before and his looked tighter, more controlled.

They began to talk about other things. They were all looking forward to the World Cup, although Harry suspected Hermione was looking forward to it more for time to spend with him and a way to see Wizarding culture more than for the game.

He and Hermione had already been corresponding in detail about their lessons. They had sent questions back and forth, suggestions for how to do certain spells, and even sent homework assignments for each other to review. Hermione had been impressed, telling Harry his work was coming along much better than in the past. However, there was nothing like being together to really see.

“So, Harry, let’s see how that work has been coming along.” Hermione grinned, “Show me some of the spells for this year!”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine!” Harry said, cheekily.

“Ok.” She said with a bit of a glare, but she couldn’t keep the grin from peeking through. “Accio book.”

And Ron’s book flew to her.

“Blimey, Hermione! How did you do that?” Ron squeaked, “We haven’t learned that yet!”

“We got permission to cast over the holiday, like you lot can do here with your parents. We’ve been practicing. Haven’t you?”

“Why would I do homework over the summer?” Ron asked.

“So you can cast spells like the summoning charm?” Harry said, mildly exasperated, “It doesn’t make sense to be amazed at how much she knows only to dismiss any thought of how you could have done exactly the same thing. Come on, we’ll keep going and you can try them when you’re ready.”

“Depulso” Harry said, waving his wand in the prescribed fashion. Ron’s pillow shot across the room.

“Nice one, Harry!” Hermione grinned, “Depulso!”

She sent another pillow shooting at Harry.

“Protego!” Harry called, putting up a shield and blocking the pillow.

Soon they were having a magical pillow fight, sending pillows back and forth.

That night, Harry wrote a letter to Sirius and sent it with Hedwig, telling him about the dreams over the summer.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

At the Quidditch World Cup, Harry was in heaven. Everything he did with Hermione seemed better than it was before her. He felt like he was somehow growing up, gaining an appreciation for things he never seemed to see before. He noticed she felt the same way. He’d always had a suspicion she just came to Quidditch games to be with her friends, but she really seemed to be more appreciative of the actual game this time around. He caught her carrying on a well-informed conversation with Ron about the teams. Even Ron seemed surprised.

At the actual game, something else unusual happened. In the pre-game ceremony, the Bulgarian Veelas took the field. Harry appreciated the beautiful blonde women, but once the music started, he noticed Ron acting very strangely. He was shredding the hat he had just bought!

“Ron, you don’t want to do that!” Harry said, pulling the hat away, “What’s gotten into you?”

“You don’t feel anything?” Mr. Weasley said with a surprised look on his face.

“Feel what?” Harry replied, puzzled.

He glanced over at Hermione and noticed a huge smile on her face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She said, still smiling.

They enjoyed the game. Harry figured out how to use his omnioculars with some minor errors early on leading him to miss a few plays, but he caught a lot of detail he might have missed earlier. He learned one play he thought he might be able to try himself, later, the Wronski feint. He thought that might be quite useful.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Later, in the tent, Hermione came to him. She had been very pleased with him all day, for some reason. He wasn’t sure why, but he was happy that she was happy.

“Harry, I’m curious. I want to test something.” She looked around, making sure they had a little privacy. While they weren’t left alone, there were always Weasleys for chaperones, they weren’t intrusive.

“Ok. What?”

“Well, you know how when we first kissed, we felt that spark? Then, when we hugged, we felt it again? I’m curious if we can do that on purpose.”

“You want to try now?”

“Sure. Why don’t we use the auramens spell so we can see each others auras and then try, so we can see what’s happening?”

They sat down next to each other, holding hands after each casting the auramens spell. Hermione had a theory the closer they were touching the easier it was.

“Concentrate on the feeling, Harry. If you feel it, see if you can make it stronger.”

Harry didn’t feel as much of a spark feeling just holding her hand, but as they sat there quietly, he could feel it. He cracked an eye open and saw their auras mingling. He concentrated on the sparking feeling and based on what he had noticed the first time, tried to push his magic to Hermione.

“Oooh, I can feel that!” Hermione said, “It feels strange, like I’ve got too much magic and it’s wanting to overflow.”

“Maybe you have to send it back.” Harry suggested, “That’s what it felt like the first time, like magic flowing out and back. Is that what it feels like to you?”

“Yes, let me try that.”

Harry felt the sparking definitely picking up. As he felt more magic flowing in, he was able to push more towards her. He felt like he was getting better at it and could keep his eyes open consistently. He noticed the cord between them glowing brighter the more they pushed through it. Their auras were really mixed, with lots of golden sparks and green fire flowing everywhere.

He started to feel unaccustomed warmth in the pit of his stomach. He felt himself breathing faster, his heart beating faster, and he noticed Hermione looking the same. Her face was flushed and she was biting her lower lip, whether in concentration or something else, he wasn’t sure. He stepped up his efforts to push more magic through the bond and felt her responding with return magic. She surprised him by letting out a quiet moan and pulled her hands back.

“Harry, we need to stop. What was that?” she whispered

“Ummmm…” He replied, flustered, “I know what it felt like. Did it feel like that to you?”

“Like ‘that’, huh?” Hermione said, but then winked, “How do you know what that feels like?”

“The same way you do.” Harry replied. He normally would have been really embarrassed to even be hinting about this to Hermione, but somehow he wasn’t nearly as nervous as he thought he should be. Was it the bond? Was it that she was his best friend? Were those two ways of saying the same thing?

“Well, we’d better do some more research. “

Now that they had stopped, their auras had gone back to normal, hers mostly gold, his mostly green, but there was noticeably more sparks and the cord was noticeably more substantial. While he was pushing his magic, Harry had felt like he was casting a very powerful spell, but at the same time he was receiving influx of the same amount of magic, so now he felt a little fatigue from the stress of managing the magic, but none of the fatigue of having actually spent that much energy. He didn’t think he even would have been able to understand these concepts before the night they’d saved Sirius. He felt like he was understanding magic so much more than he had.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

They left the Quidditch world cup early, the night disturbed by a Deatheater attack. Nobody was seriously hurt, but Harry was drawn in, as usual. It seems a house elf named Winky had stolen his wand and been involved. She had been dismissed by one of the ministry officials, Mr. Crouch. Harry had been stunned by the look she had given him before she had broken down in tears. After the disruption, they had headed home, the event completely disrupted by the disturbing attack and the resurgence of the Dark Mark.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: I’m trying to denote what I feel are longer breaks with a series of letters. I tried lines, but didn’t like how my word processing program formatted it.

There are a number of breaks, because I really liked the original books except for two main problems.

1. The central relationship, of course.

2. Harry was a colossal slacker and Dumbledore encouraged it. If you had one person fated to save the world, wouldn’t you encourage them to live up to some small part of their potential, instead of being Ron, Jr.?

So, where I’m not correcting these problems to where I like how the story goes, the background story is progressing much the same as it did in the original and I assume you’re familiar with that. If not, you should read it now!

Please read and review.

3. Chapter 3 - Fourth Year Begins!

Chapter 3: Fourth Year Begins!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling and those she has sold rights to own Harry Potter. I am doing this for fun and neitherexpectnor will accept profit.

On the train to Hogwarts, Hermione quizzed him on arithmancy and runes. Ron watched them out of the corner of his eye, seeming suspicious that someone had abducted Harry and replaced him with an imposter. Harry just shook his head and tried to focus. He’d made great headway, but learning a year’s worth of material over a month was enormously difficult. He hoped he could just pass the test and Hermione assured him she would help him extensively during the year until he caught up.

The sorting was over, the tournament was announced, Professor Moody arrived, ending the welcoming feast. Harry and Hermione walked with everyone to the common room, as usual, but once inside, seemed reluctant to part. Harry wasn’t sure what the protocol was, but he knew what he wanted. He walked with her to the girl’s dorm stairs and gave her a quick kiss goodnight. He heard giggling from the other girls and was embarrassed, but it was worth it for the look of affection he got from Hermione. He hurried over to the boy’s stairs and went up to bed.

The second night in the castle, there was a note at Harry’s place at dinner to summon him to Dumbledore’s office after dinner. He shared it with Hermione.

“Want to come with?”

“He didn’t invite me.” She replied, not sounding upset, but not wanting to break the rules.

“Maybe he just didn’t think about it. I think you should come with me.”

Together, they went to Dumbledore’s office. The gargoyle opened at their approach, having been alerted to let them in.

“Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, welcome!”

“Professor Dumbledore, I know I wasn’t invited, but Harry wanted me to come along.”

“Right he was. I didn’t even think about it. Did he mention our independent lessons last year?”

“Yes, he told me about what you said. He said he hadn’t been summoned back since then.”

“No, that first lesson needed time. I think from here on they’ll be more frequent and I’m glad you came. In case I forget in the future, I want you to know a summons for one is a summons for both. We’ll start by talking about the soul bond, since that becomes pertinent to the rest. Miss Granger, what did you learn?”

Hermione summarized her research. She briefly mentioned their experiment in the tent, although not the embarrassing feelings which resulted.

“Ah, excellent! Let me show you something.”

He already had a mirror positioned and cast auramens. They could see their current auras. He then recited a length incantation and they could see their current auras with a ghostly superimposed snapshot of the previous state. With the two superimposed, they could easily see both of their auras were brighters, Harry’s was significantly narrower to his body, there was more evidence of the others’ color, and the cord was much wider.

“You see the progression? I have done research and I have some theories. First, I agree there are a lot of romantic misconceptions about soul bonds, but I want you to understand all the romantic notions are not without basis. No, there is no law that you’re automatically married. How shocking would it be for a family to suddenly marry two children on the basis of a magical event? However, there are laws that pertain. In summary, they state that to interfere with a soul bond is a serious crime, similar to any other mental assault. Further, you’re each allowed to be wherever the other is allowed. Nobody is allowed to forcibly separate you, because over time that could be unhealthy to your mental well-being.”

“Magically there are implications. Some of them are excellent examples of what I was going to teach Harry anyway, so I welcome the opportunity. Did either of you take much muggle science before you left school?”

They both nodded, as it was part of the core curriculum. Dumbledore removed a drape over a glass mechanism. There were two chambers separated by a glass plate. One chamber was almost full of water. The other was half full. There was a tube connecting the two at the bottom and a small gate, currently closed.

“So, what happens when I open the gate?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“The two will equalize, the side with more water draining into the side with less water until they’re even.” Hermione answered, continuing in her eager scholarly way, “Due to gravity and the force of air pressure, I believe.”

The professor opened the gate and that’s exactly what happened. He then waved his wand and transfigured the machine into another, with two round flasks connected with a glowing filament. One flask was brightly full of golden energy, the other almost empty with a barely visible glow.

“This is a very similar mechanism, except instead of water, it’s filled with magic. Do you know what will happen when I unblock this magical conduit of wand core grade unicorn hair?”

Both shook their head.

“Wonderful! Do you see how odd it is that you both immediately know what will happen to water, but have no idea what will happen to magic? Muggle science is progressing rapidly, where wizards are getting lazy. Let me know you what will happen.”

He touched his wand to the filament and the dimmer side brightened until it was as bright as the other.

“See? The lesson is that, ‘magic calls to magic, magic fuels magic’. I assure you, the side with more magic was lessened not at all. It may have brightened very slightly, in fact, as the other side contributed a little power. This is the reason children are educated at boarding schools such as Hogwarts. By putting all these wizarding children together, their magic is exposed to one another. The more powerful somehow stimulate the less powerful to grow stronger, while the more powerful are still stimulated themselves. Researchers at the ministry have told me they estimate students at Hogwarts have a core magical strength 20% more than they would if they didn’t attend. That’s the only reason pure-blooded families will tolerate their children being exposed to ideas they don’t approve of – because if they don’t, their children will lose potential power. They ensure they do extensive indoctrination on the holidays, hoping to offset the values we teach during the year.

Why does this happen? I am widely read. Have you heard of Charles Darwin?”

Hermione nodded. Harry thought it was familiar, but wasn’t sure of the context.

“He was a muggle scientist who is known for a theory of evolution. I suspect that wizarding children exposed to other wizarding children develop more magic in competition. However, that’s merely my theory, but it is essentially the same as was believed by the founders. They created houses to put the students they valued most together, hoping to stimulate them together, to make their students the strongest. Meanwhile, the houses have somewhat of a rivalry, further stimulating the magic, as it recognizes a weak threat it needs to respond to.

Another fact about magic, is that ‘an empty vessel grows larger’. This will seemingly contradict the former fact, which is part of what I love about magic, it doesn’t always follow rules of reason and logic. While the presence of magic stimulates magic, in a wizard or witch, the use of magic increases the potential for more. This is analogous to building muscle through exercise, except that there is no danger of overtraining unless you completely burn out the ability to use magic. So a wizard who uses all the magic they can hold will regenerate their magic and will find they hold slightly more than they had.”

Harry and Hermione sat listening, realizing they were learning theories of magic that they wouldn’t have begun to address in class.

“How does this apply to you two? Well, I hope you’ve realized how much you’re like the two flasks of magic, connected by the filament. Harry was born with an unusually high potential for magic power. It may have been one small part of what allowed him to survive the killing curse. This doesn’t make him a better wizard, but if he has trained as much as another wizard with less power, he’ll have more power to feed into a spell. It’s why he could drive away nearly a hundred Dementors. Now that you’re connected by the soul bond, I expect you’ll come up to his level of power and both of you will stabilize slightly higher than he would have without the bond. His magic will stimulate yours to match and yours will stimulate his in the process. Both of you will gain more than the 20% theoretical, because that benefit is only for being in as close physical proximity as the castle puts the average student. Your proximity for the purpose of magic is effectively infinite, so you’ll stimulate each other much more. The more magic you push through the bond, the more that stimulation.”

The couple exchanged a look, slightly overwhelmed.

“Meanwhile, using as much magic daily as possible will help stimulate your potential even more. In order to facilitate this, I’m going to teach you a spell to push magic power into the Hogwart’s wards. You’ll help build the wards stronger while also draining your power nightly. Interestingly, we barely touch on wand lore here, but as an aside, the more power that goes through your wand, the stronger your wand grows. If you somehow were to travel back in time and try to use your first year wand with your adult magic, you might burn out the wand core. So adding power to the wards through your wand will ensure your wand core is strengthened to withstand any power you may put through it in the future.”

“Finally,” Dumbledore added, “It’s not just magic that will cross your bond. Emotions, thoughts, and even talents will cross the bond. Some people think these are other forms of magic, after all, like your intellect Miss Granger, your flying ability, Mr. Potter, or Mr. Weasley’s strategic talents. In this case, since you complement each other so thoroughly, like magic I expect you’ll come up to the other’s level. Miss Granger, I suspect you’ll find yourself casting faster and more confidently. You may notice your reflexes improving. You may find you enjoy flying more than you once did. Mr. Potter, I saw the results of your grades on the pre-test for arithmancy and runes. Much of that, perhaps most of that is due to Miss Granger’s influence and tutoring, but I rather suspect some of it is due to the influence of the bond.

I’ve given you much to think about. I hope you will think on it thoroughly before our next meeting.”

Professor Dumbledore taught them the spell to feed magic energy directly into the castle wards and dismissed them.

Back in the common room, they found themselves alone, discussing what they’d learned.

“This is so much to take in. I’m going to have as much magical power as Harry Potter?” Hermione whispered.

“You? What about me? I’m going to somehow gain access to the intellect of the smartest witch of her age? How will the world deal with two of us?”

“Harry!” Hermione elbowed him, but seemed pleased at the compliment, “What about the magic flowing through the bond, stimulating our potential?”

“I heard that, too. You know what it feels like, though.” Harry said, trailing off, embarrassed.

Hermione was the daughter of two dentists. She put on a mask of clinical detachment to say, “Yes, Harry, I know what it felt like. It feels…sexual. I think that much energy going through our nervous systems, maybe combined with the fact of how we feel about each other. Normally, I would say we’re too young to cause that kind of feeling in each other, at least in this stage of our relationship, but if it builds our magical potential, how can we not? You’re going to need all your strength to face Voldemort!”

“Ok, do you want to try that for as long as we can stand it, then feed whatever energy we have to the wards so we wake up recharged?”

They faced each other on the couch. Now, with the common room empty, they had more privacy than they’d had in the tent, so Hermione sat on his lap, facing him. They held hands and kissed to get maximum contact. Then they started pushing magic power through the bond. Having done it previously and being closer, they were able to pick up the bond instantly and increase the power quickly. The fizzing, sparking feeling quickly spread to the dull heat in the pit of his stomach and he knew she felt the same. Each of them was breathing heavily and their hearts beating like they were running. Harry reacted physically and knew Hermione could feel it, sitting on his lap. He felt through the bond that he didn’t need to be embarrassed; otherwise he probably would have jumped up. They kept it going as long as they could, before Harry finally broke it off. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, her bushy brown hair surrounding his face, as their breath finally came down to normal.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, suspecting the answer, but wanting to be sure.

“Ummm…I was about to make a mess and I didn’t think we wanted to take it that far.”

“Oh. You mean you almost finished?” she whispered flushing.

“Yes.”

“I almost stopped when I felt something similar, but didn’t. Three times.” She whispered with a little grin. “Goodnight.” She gave him a fairly innocent goodnight kiss, except with what she’d said it was anything but innocent, and went to bed.

That night they both drained almost their entire magical reserve into the Hogwarts’ wards. Harry didn’t think he could power a lumos spell when he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. He awoke in the morning feeling refreshed, recharged, and his power felt normal.

Each day was similar. They studied intensely, quickly catching Harry up in arithmancy and runes. Harry, Hermione, and Ron dueled in an empty defense classroom they’d gotten permission to use. Then in the evening, Harry and Hermione would find someplace private to practice with their bond. They found it became easier and easier to push more and more magic through the bond, although the physical reaction never seemed to dull.

A few weeks after classes started, they quietly celebrated Hermione’s birthday. Ron didn’t notice, but he never seemed to. Harry remembered and that’s all that mattered.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: I’m going to slow down on posting chapters, now, to give myself more time to edit what I’ve written, but I wanted to get a little bit posted to show where I’m going. Right now I have written through the second event.

Please read and review. Since this is my first story, I’m very likely to take reviews into account on improving readability.

My main worry is that I tend to summarize. Especially with Hermione’s character, I’m afraid I’m not going into enough depth. Since I probably like her even more than I like Harry, I don’t want to do that.

4. Chapter 4: The Goblet of Fire

Chapter 4 – The Goblet of Fire

Disclaimer – I don’t own Harry Potter

The Beuxbatons and Durmstrang students arrived. The drawing of names was conducted and Harry’s name unexpectedly came out of the Goblet. By this point, their bond was developed to the point that Hermione knew he hadn’t submitted his name. She would have known anyway, but it took no faith, no belief in Harry, she just knew as well as she knew she hadn’t put her own name in. They wordlessly communicated and quickly framed options. They thought they could keep him from competing if they wanted to. The soul bond was one option, since she would likely die if he did. They were also certain he wouldn’t lose his magic if he failed to compete, because if he did, she would still have hers and his would just respark from their connection. However, they quickly disregarded those options. They had shared each other’s talents and personality quirks. In the realm of courage, they were both Gryffindors and they both knew the best way to find out who had submitted his name was to compete.

They both walked up together. They received odd looks, but the staff knew about the bond and the law couldn’t force a separation if they didn’t wish it and right now neither wished it. Hermione kept Harry calm and that was enough.

Ron reacted badly, but it barely bothered them. They had each other and nothing else mattered.

Neither was surprised when Dumbledore wanted to see them after the drawing. They got the summons after the party had died down in the Gryffindor common room.

The gargoyle stood aside automatically. Harry briefly wondered when the last time he’d had to give a password was. They walked into the Headmaster’s office and Dumbledore greeted them warmly.

“I want to say again, that I believe you completely.” Professor Dumbledore said. “I don’t necessarily have any lessons, but I wanted to see you again and see how the prior lessons were working out.”

They briefly said how well they were doing with classes, which Dumbledore was well aware of. Since they had bonded, Hermione had remained the top student of her year, where she had been 3 year previously with no real competition. This year the only difference was that Harry was her only competition. He was just as studious as she’d always been. She found that she had his natural talent and could have probably aced most of the tests without studying, so her nervousness about tests and academics went away, but not her motivation. The teachers actually noticed her work improved because of her new confidence. Before, she’d been scary. Now, she might as well have been a professor and he was right there with her. Some might have thought Hermione would be jealous of her undisputed place at the top of the class, but the bond prevented that. There was no jealousy, they were too close.

“I have some instruments that I want to discuss with you.” Dumbledore pointed, “Given that a part of the reason for Hogwarts is encouraging magical growth, as I discussed last meeting, we actually track how our students are progressing from the viewpoint of potential. It’s similar to the concept of IQ. Magical children constantly radiate magic. As said previously, that stimulates each other, but all that magic also goes somewhere. It makes Hogwarts one of the most magical places in the wizarding world. All of that excess magic powers our wards, makes the castle live with moving staircases and living portraits, attracts ghosts, and repairs damage. Since you’ve been discharging your extra energy into the wards every night, they’ve grown stronger, so I know you’re making progress. This instrument tells me how powerful each student is at each moment, but is most useful if I look at a 1 month average.

When you both arrived, we let the instrument measure for one month and then looked. Harry, you were the strongest student in your class, without peer. Hermione, you were easily in the top 10%. Each year we measured and watched. There’s an expected progression, as each student is expected to grow magically stronger each year as they grow, which you did, however recently you’ve left the curve behind. Your efforts are working! Let me show you in the mirror.”

He cast the auramens spell on all of them and they looked in the mirror. Both were noticeably brighter. Both had narrower, more tightly controlled and focused auras. The most progress had been in the bond, though. Instead of a mere cord of light, it was now a huge ribbon of emerald and golden light, about the same size as their aura itself. Harry’s aura was emerald green with a bright golden border, gold sparks shooting throughout. Hermione’s was the inverse.

“Harry, since you’re a champion, I can’t help you with the tasks specifically. However, I want to continue your lessons here. I have mostly made them theoretical, but I think it’s time to steer them to application, as well. Professor Moody is willing to meet with you both daily, if you want extra defense instruction. He tells me you asked for and received permission to do extra work in one of the classrooms. He tells me he observed and feels like you’re ready for more instruction.

Additionally, I want you both to learn occulomency with Professor Snape.”

It was a testament to the progress they’d made together that Harry remained calm. He’d gained some measure of Hermione’s rationality and calm.

“Your first lesson with Professor Moody will be Monday afternoon. Your first with Professor Snape will be tomorrow night. He requests you each come separately the first lesson.”

That night they’d gone to the common room, relieved to find it alone. Some nights they had to use the invisibility cloak to sneak to an empty classroom. A door locking charm, a silencing charm, and they had privacy. They most often used the common room. Their bond practice looked like nothing more than snogging, even if it felt like quite a bit more.

They settled into position, automatically finding the bond and beginning to pour energy through it. They kissed intermittently, enjoying the extra sparks it caused. Harry secretly liked to watch Hermione while they built their bond stronger and deeper. Her face was like home to him, his best friend. Her brown eyes that sparked with intelligence and loyalty. The brown hair that she despised, but he secretly liked. He liked to watch as she gasped with pleasure, the magic ripping through her core. He realized how much he’d learned about her since the first time. They had talked about the first time in the tent. She’d admitted fear he would notice how erect her nipples were. He had to admit to not knowing to look for that. He knew now and got a smug sense of joy out of seeing it. He could tell through the bond when she came, which she did regularly during these practices. He’d learned to enjoy his own climaxes. It was messy, but she never cared. Even if they were already in pajamas and she could feel the dampness, she had pointed out she’d soaked his pajamas almost every time anyway. They’d grown together during the first months of school, even though their physical relationship hadn’t progressed passed kissing and shy touching, their sexual relationship was much further along because of their bond.

The next day was Sunday and Harry sent another letter to Sirius, telling him about the Goblet picking his name. The letter he’d sent about his dreams brought Sirius back from the South, where he’d been in hiding. Harry wasn’t sure where he was now, but letters reached him much more quickly than they had.

That night, he met with Professor Snape for his first occulomency lesson. They had gotten along better this year. Snape had thrown in occasional digs about Harry now becoming as much of a know-it-all as Hermione, but the venom seemed less. His grades in potions seemed to improve as he focused more. Harry himself was much calmer, with more control over his emotions, and that seemed to help as well.

Severus taught Harry what occulomency meant, a review of the little Albus had told him.

“The Dark Lord is a master legilimens. That means he can penetrate minds with ease. The vision you had earlier this summer and the pain in your scar suggests his penetration of your mind. Your mind is completely unprotected, leaving you open to his influence. Learning occulomency will protect you to the degree you master the skill.

To do so, you must first empty your mind. Attempt to do so and we will begin.”

“Legilimens”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: Short chapter, but I wanted to end it there, so the next section could have its own start.

5. Chapter 5 - Training

Chapter 5 – Training

Disclaimer – I don’t own Harry Potter.

“Legilimens”

Snape quickly penetrated Harry’s non-existent defenses and was soon watching his memories. The memories he saw first were of Hermione by the banks of the lake as they shared their first kiss. The next memory was of the Dementors about to kiss Sirius. Interestingly, this memory had Professor Snape in it, unconscious, about to be killed by these same Dementors until Harry drove them off with a powerful Patronus. Professor Snape ended the attack at that point. He realized he owed Harry a life debt, much like the life debt he owed James Potter, his hated rival. He had hated Harry for years, but looking into his eyes to cast the legilimens spell reminded him of his love and his hatred faltered. The life debt and Lily’s eyes momentarily flustered the potion’s master.

“You must do better than that, Mr. Potter. Prepare yourself. Legilimens!”

Harry, facing attacks on his mind, was instantly back in his childhood, where he’d been attacked regularly and faced great mental pain, alone and locked in a cupboard. These memories were next and Snape saw memory after memory of Harry’s life at the Dursleys. He saw the underfed abused boy locked in a cupboard. Sometimes, when the boy couldn’t help it, unknowing, called for his mother. Snape’s heart broke again. This could have been his son, if things had worked like he’d wished. This was Lily’s son.

Harry called out and fell to his knees. Snape broke the attack and turned away. He paced around his office, his black cloak sweeping behind him.

“Sir, I’ll do better next time. I want to try again.”

Snape just glared at him, unable to speak. He continued pacing. His whole mind was on fire, his two selves warring. His own occulomency was being stressed just to reconcile the two halves that should never have been able to coexist. He should have been completely insane, but there was too much iron control. He stopped pacing to kneel next to the fallen boy. He looked into Harry’s eyes, deeply, unblinking. Harry braced himself for an attack, but kept his gaze steady.

“Harry, go to your room. We’ll recommence another night. I’ll send word.”

Harry stood up and made it to the door. The door swung mostly shut behind him. He’d failed and since he’d bonded with Hermione, that was something he had never done.

Snape waited for the boy to leave and then drew his wand. He remembered his own childhood, hated and abused. He at least had parents. He had known he was a wizard. He’d had a friend before going to Hogwarts. Lily’s son had none of that. He finally realized his revenge on James should have never fallen on a child. He realized how much Lily would have despised him.

“Reducto” he shouted, destroying a shelf of components.

“Reducto” blowing half the desks into splinters.

“Reducto” shattering pieces off the stones of the wall.

It wasn’t enough. He walked to one of the walls and punched it, feeling the pain in his hand somehow making the pain in his mind less. He transfigured the ruins of several desks into a mirror, looked himself in the face, and put his fist through his own reflection. He kneeled on stone floor, beating his fists against it. He screamed until his throat was raw, knowing that in the dungeon, nobody would hear.

Harry looked on from a crack in the door. He didn’t know what had happened, what had made the man break down like this, but he was afraid for the Professor’s life. He’d never thought about it before, but one of those reductos against the temple would have been a perfect form of suicide. Should he run and get Professor Dumbledore? Gryffindors don’t run.

He quietely walked to Snapes side. The potion master didn’t hear him until Harry was upon him, then whipped his head around and pointed his wand.

“You dare?” he asked shaking, wand pointed more steadily.

Harry nodded, putting his hands on the professors shoulders and sinking to his knees in front of him. He looked directly into his eyes, giving him full permission to read him. He didn’t know why he was there. He wouldn’t have guessed he would have ever felt anything but hate for this twisted man, but something was driving him.

Snape looked into Harry’s mind, deciding if he found disgust or pity, he would kill them both. What he didn’t expect was to hear Lily’s voice.

“I don’t despise you. You’ve sacrificed your whole life for this. Protect my son and everything between us is forgiven.”

Snape teetered on the edge of madness. Finally, he broke, falling into Harry’s arms. Both wept.

Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room and Hermione waiting for him. She pulled him into her embrace, knowing everything that had happened. She had been with him as he feared the reducto that he fully expected and she’d been with him for Snape’s unexpected breakdown. They wept together, finishing the process of draining the fear and anxiety. They fell asleep on the couch, neither wanting to be further from each other than that.

The next day Professor Snape wasn’t seen at meals.

In DADA, Professor Moody cast the Imperius curse on each student in turn. Harry was able to mostly throw it off, hearing a voice in his head contradicting the guidance he was given. At first he was only able to partially fight the effects, but he soon realized he could completely ignore the curse. He assumed his bond was part of it, as Hermione strengthened his willpower. There was more, though, as the voice he heard was not Hermione’s. When Hermione had her turn, she was immediately able to ignore the curse, gaining the benefit from Harry’s experience.

That afternoon, Harry and Hermione met with Professor Moody, who quickly tested them against the entire 1-4 year spell curriculum. He asked them questions about dark creatures and cursed objects. He seemed very focused on determining their strengths and even more focused on finding weaknesses. When they seemed to know the answers to every question, he pulled out his wand.

“Defend yourselves.” The retired auror began casting.

Harry and Hermione were living in each other’s heads by this time. She cast a protego shield while Harry cast stunners around the edge. Moody slammed increasingly powerful stunners into the shield, which didn’t flicker. Meanwhile his shield was about to collapse under Harry’s intense red bolts.

“Reducto!” Moody called, aiming at the shield.

Hermione winced, fed more power, and the shield held. Harry, shaken by the events of the night before went berserk.

“Reducto! Expelliarmus! Stupefy!” as his wand danced, throwing out powerful charms. Moody’s shield went down to the reductor, his wand flew to Harry at the disarming hex, and he was unconscious after being hit by the stunner.

“Harry, I don’t think you should have done that.” Hermione said, surprised by the unconscious teacher.

“Well, I didn’t expect him to cast a reductor at us.”

“Maybe you should wake him.” Hermione said.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Well, you do have his wand.”

“Good point.” Harry said. “Innervate!”

Moody began to stir, his magic eye spinning around first. He was understandably shocked by the outcome.

“Well, Potter, well done! Maybe we’ll have to try this one at a time next time. Until tomorrow, then. Remember, Constant Vigiliance!” Professor Moody said, gaining his feet and limping away.

“Don’t you need your wand back, Professor?”

Professor Moody held out his hand and summoned his wand, shaking his head as he limped away.

Tuesday morning, Professor Snape was back at the head table for breakfast, looking pale. He behaved in a subdued, but otherwise normal fashion during potions. At the end of class he slipped a note to Harry and Hermione. When they read it, it simply said, “Here, 9:00”

That night, they came down to the potion’s classroom together. Professor Snape was working at his desk.

“Professor?” Harry asked from the doorway.

“Ah, Mr. Potter. Come in.”

They came in and sat. Snape looked at them for a long moment as they looked back. Nobody seemed to know what to say.

“I think we started badly, Mr. Potter.” Snape said. It wasn’t clear whether he meant the earlier lesson or 3 years ago.

“Perhaps we did, Sir.” Harry offered.

“You’re emotional. So unlike I was when I learned occulomency. Perhaps my method is not the right one for you. There is another.

One way, my preferred, is to blank the mind completely and start with a void for a defense. It’s a powerful defense, because an attacker gets no sense of your mind. However, I can see that won’t work for you.

Another method is start as if you’re achieving a void and then fill it with one single, powerful image or emotion. Much as if you’re trying to cast a Patronus. Realize the legilimens may be able to take this one image or sense this one emotion, but otherwise it is a strong defense. Some call this the flame in the void technique.”

“Let’s try again. Empty your mind. Pick one powerful image. Legilimens!”

This time, Harry was able to defend his mind. Snape was able to eventually break through the defense, but only after significant effort and Harry got a better sense of how to defend. Harry felt much as he had when learning the Patronus from Remus. He didn’t get it immediately, but he got a sense of progress. As soon as Professor Snape broke the defense, he ended the spell before Harry could even feel him in his mind. It was much less unsettling.

“Legilimens!”

Harry poured in powerful emotion, in this case love. He knew that Dumbledore thought this was the power that Voldemort knew not, so if he picked it, it might hurt Voldemort should he try to penetrate his defenses. He could visualize his defenses now as a green wall, much like his aura. He compressed the wall until it was razor thin, but dense. Snape was not able to break through and eventually managed to slide over.

“Again. Legilimens.”

Harry built the wall higher, making a dome. There were no gaps to go through and Snape couldn’t force it. His defense held.

“Very well. You may have a chance after all, Harry.” Snape said, not even realizing he was no longer calling him by his surname. Hermione noticed that Professor Snape could say Harry without the hatred she always heard when he said ‘Potter’.

“Let’s try your defenses, Miss Granger. Did you listen when I instructed Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, Professor.” Hermione replied, hoping he didn’t realize they were so much in each other’s heads that if Harry could do it, she could, too.

“Legilimens” Snape cast, coming against a shining golden sphere. There were no gaps and there was no breaking it.

“Adequate. Now, with preparation, you can resist a known attack. Continue to practice at night. Our next lesson will begin to prepare you for unexpected attacks. Then we’ll work on attacks while distracted and maintaining a defense while doing other things.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: I really want to do a better job with Snape. We’ll see if I do.

6. Chapter 6 - The first task

Chapter 6 – The first task

Disclaimer – I don’t own Harry Potter.

They trained as hard as they could for the mysterious first task. Harry had talked to Hermione about how the bond had changed both of them. She could see the changes in him better than he could. He’d always been bright, his mother was the closest thing to the previous generation’s Hermione there was and his father was a genius in transfiguration, but they had figured out that he’d always tried to hide it for two reasons. First, if he outshone Dudley in Muggle school, he’d be beaten. So he had learned not to. Second, when he arrived at Hogwarts, Ron wasn’t very academically inclined and was a bit jealous to start with, so Harry had hidden his academic side due to their friendship. The bond to Hermione had strengthened his already natural academic side and he had realized that if he didn’t start working towards his full potential, he was even more likely to die to Voldemort or one of his Deatheaters. Surprisingly, Ron took less time before he apologized than they expected. Maybe if Hermione had still been friendly he could have stayed mad at Harry, but he couldn’t push away both friends completely and there was no splitting them. During the days they had been distant, Ron had been forced to do a lot of thinking. His family members were all high achievers in their own ways and since his two best friends were clearly starting to really come into their own, he felt maybe it was time he fulfilled his potential, too. Otherwise he sensed he would quickly be left alone and only have Dean or Seamus to hang out with. It didn’t hurt that Dumbledore had summoned him, alone, and started him on a secret study plan to bring out his capabilities as a strategic genius. Feeling that he had an area that he could excel in that had nothing to do with his friends was giving him confidence to be less of a prat.

Sometimes, Harry and Ron would duel for hours in the empty defense classroom with Moody teaching them, while Hermione researched in the library. She had cataloged every task at every prior Tri-Wizard tournament. She classified them with frequency of occurrence and noticed a very obvious pattern. She was still stunned at how lacking in innovation wizards could be. They were sometimes downright lazy. The first task was almost always facing a magical beast or beasts, usually to retrieve an item. The second was often environmental, having to rescue hostages from a difficult environment. The third was always a maze to retrieve the Goblet of Fire. How could they not expect the best students at each school to figure out these tasks? Once she had an idea of the tasks, she researched useful spells. She was trying to craft a mapping spell for the maze. She sent off an owl to consult Sirius and Remus, since their map was the best she’d ever heard of.

The three met up in the common room after dinner.

“Ok, I’ve got a good idea of the first task.” Hermione said.

“I do, too.” Ron offered.

“What? How do you know?” Hermione said, shocked.

“Don’t think I ever know anything, huh?” Ron said, seeming ready to jump into a fight, but he quickly grinned, “I have an inside source. Charlie’s coming to Hogwarts and wanted me to pass on some hints. Nobody in my family would forgive themselves if you got hurt, Harry.”

Hermione had the expression she often got when her mind went into overdrive.

“Dragons!” she exclaimed.

“Dragons?!” Harry said, “Charlie is a dragon handler. When he came all the way to the Burrow… I thought he just came for the Quidditch Cup! I remember he was on the team when he was here.”

“The first task is often a magical creature. It makes sense.” Hermione said.

“It not only makes sense, it’s what is planned. Furthermore, I know they brought nesting females with eggs.” Ron said.

“That’s got to be significant.” Hermione thought aloud, “It’s much more trouble than to bring bachelor males. There’s more risk of an angry dragon, because while females may be more docile than territorial males, that’s reversed when they’re nesting females. There’s nothing more dangerous than a nesting female. Given the task is also often to retrieve an item…”

Harry watched the byplay. He’d never seen Ron and Hermione interact this way. Ron really was changing, maybe as much as he and Hermione were. He actually seemed to have something to contribute.

“Ok, if Harry has to get something from the nest, I’ll come up with a plan.” Ron said, “I’ve been working with Professor Dumbledore to build on my chess playing talent. I don’t know why I never generalized it, before. I know how chess pieces move, which makes it simpler, but I think I know you as well as I know chess pieces, Harry. I don’t know as much about Dragons, but I think Charlie and Hermione might be able to help me there.”

“Great!” Harry said. “I have to tell Cedric tomorrow. It’s not fair that I know and he not know. We’ll have to be sure Fleur and Viktor know, too.”

“Can I tell Fleur?” Ron asked, cheekily.

“Right. I’ll tell Viktor. I see him quite often in the library.”

The days quickly passed. Harry was annoyed at some of the hostility from other students who all thought he’d lied and cheated to get into the tournament. Cedric was very popular and many resented Harry from seeming to take away from his choice as champion. Draco, the essential Slytherin, harnessed this wave of feeling to attack Harry. Outside the potions classroom, he and his minions showed off their “Support Cedric Diggory” buttons. Harry almost asked for one, before they pushed them and showed the other message, “Potter Stinks”. Harry with his new calm from Hermione’s influence and from his burgeoning occulomency skills, could have easily dealt with that, but Draco quickly crossed a line that Harry wouldn’t tolerate.

“Want one, Granger? Only, don’t touch my hand. I’ve just washed and wouldn’t want slime off a mudblood to contaminate me.”

A cold rage washed over Harry. Insulting Hermione was one of the few things that would set him off, but it on that subject he had a hair trigger. He drew his wand as Draco drew his. They faced off, silence falling over the rest. Harry could sense Hermione quietly drawing her wand and he knew she had his back covered. Draco twitched, raising his wand to try to gain advantage by casting the first spell, but Harry, faster, cast simultaneously.

“Furnunculus!”

“Densauego!”

The spells struck in midair and glanced off each other. Draco’s curse shot towards Hermione, where she easily blocked it. Goyle was hit by Harry’s spell and his skin erupted in boils.

“Expelliarmus. Stupefy!” Harry continued, not pausing. Draco, having been content with one spell and figuratively stunned by the outcome, was quickly literally stunned.

Just then, Snape walked up to the group, cloak flowing behind him.

“What happened here?” he said coldly.

“Uh. Harry hit Draco.” Crabbe said thickly.

“He cast at me first, Professor.” Harry offered.

“Get a teacher next time, Potter. 10 points from Gryffindor. As for Draco, I want the rest of you to understand that dueling is prohibited. If you must duel, I expect you not to be so clueless about it. 10 points from Slytherin for losing to a Gryffindor. Crabbe, take these two to the infirmary. Since I doubt you can cast a levitation charm, I suggest you ask Filch for a wheelbarrow.”

The rest continued into the classroom. Harry was bemused. While Snape seemed his usual self, it was easy to note that could have easily gone worse. He was only happy Hermione hadn’t been hit.

Hermione, meanwhile, was also thoughtful. She was well versed in the latin basis of most spellcasting and the daughter of two dentists, she knew what that spell was likely to do. Why Draco had cast it was a mystery, but if teeth could be grown, she wondered – could they be shrunken? She discussed it with her parents before, but they’d wanted to use Muggle dentistry. She wasn’t sure she was willing to wait anymore, though, and thought she might have an experiment tonight.

Harry was called out of class for the weighing of the wands. Hermione could have gone with him, but decided to stay and take notes, so he would have something to catch up with. Other than the annoyance of Rita Skeeter, the weighing was largely unremarkable. However, Ollivander gave him an odd look when he examined his wand.

“The core has seen more use than I would have expected, Mr. Potter. No harm, it will actually be stronger that way, but you must be working very hard, aren’t you?”

Harry nodded, thinking of Dumbledore’s aside about wandlore. His work was showing gains in many areas and he planned to continue.

The article that came out in the prophet the next day was irritating, but given that their relationship was well known at this point, it was only an annoyance in that it implied he was constantly mourning his dead parents.

Since they were getting along again, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all went to Hogsmeade together. It was the first time Harry got to go since being given permission by Sirius. They drank butterbeer and enjoyed themselves. Hermione went shopping for books and they all bought candy, Harry buying enough to share around since he knew Ron would never be able to buy as much as he’d want to eat.

While in the Three Broomsticks, Hagrid had invited them to come by the cabin. He’d looked a bit dodgy and inviting them at midnight, under the cloak made it even more suspicious, but he was Harry’s first friend in the wizarding world and he knew he would go.

He, Hermione, and Ron went, under the cover of the invisibility cloak. It was almost impossible for them all to fit underneath, now. Harry was amused by Hermione’s dark thoughts as she got jostled and groped accidentally. He was really lucky she was much less prim than he’d ever expected, but when he’d mentioned it once, she’s winked at him and said, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you? It’s always the smart ones, Harry.” He wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but he got the sense through the bond it was a good thing. Hagrid had clearly arranged for them to see the Dragons. It wasn’t as much of a surprise as it would have been otherwise, but academic knowledge was much different than seeing them in person.

That night, in the common room, Sirius floo called them. With Hermione and Ron by his side, they’d had a discussion about Karkaroff, Deatheaters, the reason he’d likely been entered into the tournament, and the first task. Sirius thought of casting spells at the dragon’s eyes, as they were one of the only spots vulnerable to magic. Hermione had looked thoughtful at that and Harry knew she’d be researching tomorrow. Ron had also looked like he’d filed the information away and Harry was reminded of Ron’s new depths. They’d ended the floo call with much to think about.

Harry and Hermione said goodnight with their nightly ritual and gone to bed.

The next few days consisted of frequent visits to the library. Hermione did intensive research with some help from Harry, although she was still the better researcher. Meanwhile, Ron was sketching the likely location for the tournament and listing options. He added options and spells to the list as Hermione found them. Given Sirius’ thoughts, they’d added the conjunctivitis curse quicky. Later, Hermione had found an enucleus curse and they’d added that, but hoped not to have to use it. Ron had suggested flying was one of Harry’s greatest strengths and stealing an item might be very similar to catching a snitch, although he hoped the item wasn’t that mobile. Ron and Hermione had discussed the summoning charm for the firebolt and Ron had listed that among his top options.

They began to schedule practical sessions. Hermione walked Harry through all the new spells they’d considered. She’d had to transfigure some creatures so he could practice. Harry felt bad enucleating conjured creatures, but Hermione assured him they wouldn’t feel it. He brushed up on his summoning charm. It was a spell from this year’s syllabus, so he’d learned it with Hermione over the summer during their accelerated study schedule. He was again very glad he’d started working with her and that Dumbledore had given him a waiver to cast underage magic.

When Moody called him in to hint at strategies, he’d been able to tell him he had it well under control.

He had even taken to flying trial runs. They found he could quickly grab any item up to a trunk quickly. Anything larger than that, he would need to cast a lightening charm on or it might be too heavy. Ron had quickly come up with scenarios where the item was spelled to be resistant. If not, Harry was going to cast the summoning charm on the item first. Only if it didn’t work would he summon his broom. If the item was large, he would make it lighter. If it was resistant to that, they came up with a rope and hook, so Harry could quickly attach it to his broom and fly away.

Hermione discovered some flame retardant spells. They recruited Dobby to create a set of robes similar to Harry’s Quidditch robes, and then Hermione cast every protection spell and flame retardant spell she could find. They spelled his broom to be flame retardant, too, knowing that was one of the weaknesses of this plan.

“Ok,” Ron said, the night before the task, “I think we’re well prepared. We know what you’re facing. We have plan A, summoning charm on item. Plan B, if item is resistant to summoning, you summon your broom. We’ve proven you can summon all the way from the boy’s dorm, but Hermione will have it with her in the stands, initially shrunken, but then returned to normal size. The time difference for the summoning may make a difference. Plan C, if there’s a barrier to summoning, Dobby will bring you the broom from Hermione in the stands. Plan D conjunctivitis curse. Plan E, enucleation curse. Plan F, reductor to the eyes, although if you get to plan F, you’ll really be doing what you do best and winging it. Got it?”

Harry felt really confident at this point. Ron was really a natural at the planning. Hermione was a researcher without parallel and her help with training had left him knowing he could cast any of the spells they’d planned even with distractions. His equipment was as good as it could be. He was ready.

He went to sleep early after a really productive bond practice session with Hermione. She knew exactly how to make him sleepy and he didn’t even need the potion of dreamless sleep she had brewed.

The next morning, he ate his normal breakfast. He suspected that under other circumstances he’d be too nervous to eat, but he was just excited to get it over with. He was dressed in his tournament robes, with the Potter crest on the breast and the Gryffindor crest on the shoulder. He knew these robes would shrug off anything other than a direct hit from a flame blast or claw. She had even worked in a parachute charm, in case he was knocked off his broom.

Professor McGonagall came and got him from the great hall. He suspected she wanted him alone, but Hermione didn’t leave his side. Once she’d found the Potter crest in her research, they’d had Dobby embroider it on both of their robes. That was one of the privileges of a bonded couple and they’d noticed afterwards some of the Pureblooded bigots treated her differently. It seemed they could play the Wizarding game against them, after all.

On the way into the Champions’ tent, Ludo Bagman had tried to offer him advice, but he’d just pushed past. Advice right before the tournament? He’d been ready a week ago, changing his plan now would just bollix things up.

After drawing the Horntail and last in the sequence to go, he and Hermione had sat, mostly just looking at each other, but sometimes sharing soft kisses. He knew she was keeping his mind off the task, but he knew it helped her, too, and he was happy to be distracted. She planned to feed him energy through the bond if he needed. She couldn’t intervene with spells, so she would have full energy, which she could send him at need. They’d practiced and he could cast for hours with their combined energy, especially because their recharge rate would actually start giving him new energy before he’d worked through both of their stores.

When his name was called, his mind went blank. Not negatively blank, but more the void Snape had tried to teach him. Ron had another term for it, “no-mind”, something that was apparently part of an Asian philosophy he was learning as part of his strategic studies. He heard the whistle and jogged down the path, through the gap in the enclosure, and saw the dragon. He quickly spotted the item, a golden egg Bagman had told them to find.

“Accio Egg!” he cast, with no result. The egg didn’t even wobble. When it didn’t move, he saw Hermione hurl the Firebolt in the air. She didn’t throw it past the barrier, so it was no more breaking the rules than if she’d left it in the dorm.

“Accio Firebolt!”

With only hundreds of meters to travel, the broom was quickly in his hand and he kicked off from the ground. He shot towards the dragon. He’d decided to go for pure speed, feint once to get the dragon to breathe, then while the breath recharged, he’d zoom in for the egg. He shot past the dragon, avoiding the sudden burst of fire. Around the back of the head and avoided the spiked tail. A tight turning loop, pulling so many G’s that his vision went grey, he was soon a foot off the ground, scooped up the egg, and was out of the arena. He’d won!

While he was flying, he’d thought there was complete silence, but now he realized his focus was just so all-encompassing that he hadn’t heard anything from the crowd. Now he realized the crowd was cheering. He could hear Hermione’s voice, as she cheered for him as she always did in Quidditch. He could feel the relief through their bond. Ron was next to her, cheering just as loudly. Bagman mentioned his was the fastest time. He swooped into the stands, grabbed Hermione, and rode off with her ahead of him on the broom, her laughter in his ears. They flew by the medic tent, checked on the other Champions quickly, then left, since he was unhurt. He got his score, realizing he was well in the lead. Then, he, Ron, and Hermione walked back to the castle, talking about how the others had dealt with the task.

“Krum used the conjunctivitis curse. It worked well, but the dragon destroyed many of the other eggs. I’m glad we chose to do it this way, Harry.” Hermione said.

“Me, too. I’m glad I had both of your help.” Harry said, sincerely.

“You’ll always have our help!” Hermione said firmly.

“We’re your best friends.” Ron offered.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was an incredible celebration and other than the incredible shrieking when he opened the egg, nothing detracted from it. Hermione had grabbed a quill and parchment and been ready to write, before dropping them and covering her ears at the earsplitting noise. Her actions, even though fruitless in this instance, were just one more proof of what he knew: his friends would be there to help him figure out that clue, too.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: Here’s where I start to fear I need to do more proofreading. I have Dobby helping here, but I have another Dobby scene later. I think in canon, Dobby wasn’t actually at Hogwart’s yet, but I don’t think that’s a plot busting point.

7. House elves

Chapter 7: House elves

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t profit from my writing.

While continuing to work on their classes, puzzle out the riddle of the second task, and continuing their extracurricular training, the trio had very little time for anything else. So Harry was surprised when Hermione grabbed the other two one day and led them to the kitchens. She’d been a little disturbed when she had discovered that Hogwarts had a horde of house elf servants in the background, cooking, cleaning, and maintain the castle. Harry thought she would have been even more upset before their bond, but just as he had become more studious, she had become more relaxed about her pet causes. He could sense she still hadn’t decided how she felt about the house elf question. Dobby had been an example of a very badly treated elf, but the Hogwarts elves seemed happy and healthy.

“You two must see this! It’s incredible.” She told them, dragging them along to a brightly lit, wide stone corridor with pictures of food all along the walls. She reached a picture of a bowl of fruit and tickled a pear, causing the picture to slide aside, just like the fat lady picture in front of the common room.

Inside the kitchen were numerous house elves, eagerly and efficiently cooking, baking, and cleaning up behind earlier cooking. As soon as they were seen, they were mobbed, not to try to push them away, but to offer food. Harry saw one familiar elf, with mismatched socks.

“Dobby?”

“Harry Potter! I has been hoping to see you again, but you’re the greatest wizard ever and you came to see Dobby!” the elf flung himself at Harry, grasping his leg in a forceful hug, his giant eyes looking up at Harry with an expression of fervent adoration.

Harry had seen Dobby before. The elf seemed very devoted to Harry and had found them soon after term had started. They had benefitted from his help with the first task, as Dobby had made the tournament robes Hermione had enchanted to be flame resistant and embroidered their other robes with the Potter crest. So Harry knew it wasn’t Dobby that Hermione had brought them to the kitchens for. She could sense where his thoughts were leading and gave a subtle jerk of her chin to the side. He wouldn’t have needed that, able to follow her attention, but Ron looked over at her movement.

By a giant brick fireplace, Winky sat. Her clothes were filthy and torn and she smelled of butterbeer.

“Whoa.” Ron said softly.

“Winky, what’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“Harry Potter has to ask what’s wrong?” Winky said angrily, “Winky lost her family!” and she broke down in tears.

Dobby shuffled his feet, obviously embarrassed by the house elf’s behavior.

“She’s been like this, sir. Nothing Dobby has done has helped. Hogwarts took us both in, but Dobby is still looking for a family.”

Harry and Hermione shared a look. A quick conference passed between them and Hermione’s objections quickly disappeared, seeing how miserable the elf was without her family.

“Winky, would you like to be part of my family?” Harry offered.

“No! Harry Potter is a bad wizard. You cost Winky her family!” she said, bawling.

Harry was surprised. He was used to Dobby, who had seemed devoted to him from the first time they’d met.

“Winky, if you don’t feel like working for Harry Potter, maybe you could work for me? I don’t have any house elves that work for me and could probably use the help. You could help me while you’re here at Hogwarts. At home, we’ve got a big house and my parents have a dental practice you could maintain, if it wasn’t a bother and you could avoid being seen.” Hermione offered.

Harry knew she’d realized how much house elves thrived on family and work. The sight of the pitiful elf had overcome her initial Muggle inclinations to reject slavery. How could this be slavery when Winky was so sick without a family?

“You’d take Winky?” the house elf said shyly, looking up at the bushy haired witch. “I could be part of your family?”

“Yes, I’d even be willing to pay you…” Hermione started.

“Winky is no bad elf wanting pay!” the elf wailed, “Winky wants a family!”

“Ok, no pay, but you have to let us know if you need anything, because in our family, we all take care of each other. I’ll buy you nice fabric for you to make some uniforms to wear. How’s that?”

“That’s what I want, Miss Grangy!” Winky said. She knelt down in front of Hermione and put her hands between Hermione’s. “Winky promises to be Miss Grangy’s house elf and be always loyal and ready to do what Miss Grangy needs!”

“I accept your vow and promise on my part to take care of you as part of my family.” Hermione returned, knowing from her studies what she had to say in return.

With a flash of light the magical vow was sealed. Winky immediately looked better. Her drunkenness seemed to disappear instantly. She looked down at her clothes in horror, but with a snap, they were clean and repaired. She smiled at Hermione.

“Winky is going to clean your room. Then I’ll clean your house. Then, when it’s nighttime, I can fix this ‘dental practice’. You’ll see, I will be Miss Grangy’s good elf!” and she disappeared.

Harry chuckled at the dazed look on Hermione’s face. “I guess you’ve decided the house elf thing isn’t so bad after all.”

She shook her head. “I guess I have. Or Winky did for me.”

Ron just mumbled around a bit of chocolate éclair.

A/N: Short chapter, but it seemed to break there.

8. Preparing for the Second Task

Chapter 8: Preparing for the Second Task

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t profit.

In the library, Hermione pulled him close for a quick discussion. He suspected that the old Harry would have procrastinated solving the egg. He’d really been influenced by Hermione, though, and was happy she was already working on it with him.

“Harry, I’ve been thinking about the noise.” She whispered, “When I first heard it, I thought that shrieking could be some sort of bird speech, but as I’ve thought about it more, I think it sounds more like dolphins. Now, I didn’t know if dolphins might sound like any magical creatures, but a little research has shown that mermish can also sound like that out of water, but in the water it’s much more easily understood. It doesn’t exactly make sense according to physics, but magic never does. So maybe if we listened under water, we could understand.”

“Does it have to be a large body of water or do you think any water would work?” Harry asked.

“I think any water, but if we try something small and it doesn’t work, we might have to try the edge of the lake to be sure.” She offered.

“Where are we going to find water?” Harry asked.

“Not sure, but I’ll ask Winky. House elves know everything about the castle.” Hermione replied.

In transfiguration, Professor McGonagall told them of an unexpected task, the Yule Ball. Harry’s first impulse had been to feel sick. He didn’t dance. A quick look at Ron convinced him that Ron felt the same way. However, a burst of excitement across the bond caused him to look at Hermione and she positively glowed with excitement. He caught a quick snatch of thought as she hoped he would ask her, but feared that he wouldn’t, before she put up occulmentic shields, calming the emotions and thoughts across the bond. He was surprised she would even wonder, but briefly thought about how hard it would have been to ask without knowing she wanted him to and without knowing he wasn’t in for epic, friendship ending rejection.

They stood to leave and Professor McGonnagall called out, “Potter, a brief word with you, please.”

“I’ll be in the library.” Hermione said, eyes downcast and ready to hurry out.

“No, wait a few seconds. I don’t think this will take long.” Harry urged, glancing at Professor McGonagall to see if he was right. He was surprised to see a brief flitter of a smile cross her face.

“No, Mr. Potter’s right, Miss Granger. I just wanted to mention to him that as a Champion, he would be expected to lead the first dance and Gryffindor honor was at stake. “Be sure to be ready, Mr. Potter. Remember, Gryffindor’s Charge!”

“Ok, Professor.” Harry replied, puzzled. Maybe that made sense, but despite his recent strides, he certainly didn’t know what she meant. A quick glance at Hermione showed a small, almost missed shared smile between the two.

In the hall, Harry took a deep breath and reminded himself of the house motto. This shouldn’t be hard, he already knew she wanted him to ask, but it was still a leap to put himself forward. They’d never really gone anywhere as official dates and that seemed like such an official step.

“Willyoucometotheballwithme.” He said, relieved when he got it all out.

“What was that, Potter? I don’t think I quite understood what you were asking me.” Hermione said with a smirk. She relaxed her defenses at the same time, though, and Harry was overwhelmed with her feeling of joy. He suddenly wasn’t scared at all.

“Hermione, would you please do me the honor of escorting me to the ball?” he tried again, more suavely now that he had her support in his mind.

“Of course!” she squealed.

“Do you think you might have time to teach me to dance?” Harry asked.

“I think we can do that. I took lessons as a girl.” Hermione said with a smile.

Harry was relieved. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

That night in the common room, Ron pulled his friend aside.

“Did you ask her?”

“Hermione? Yes, of course. We’re going together.”

“Well, that’s ok for you, then, but what do I do?” Ron whispered fiercely.

Harry sent a quick plea for help across the bond. Hermione came over. Ron seemed uncomfortable, but didn’t run away when she sat next to them.

“Just ask, Ron. Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen? Most girls will be flattered to be asked.”

“I could be shot down, a disgrace!”

Hermione shook her head. “If you’re that scared, ask one of the third years. “You heard the Professor. They can’t go unless they’re invited by a fourth year or above, so if they want to go, they’ll be hoping for dates.”

Ron smiled, “I think you’re on to something! Maybe it’s good to be friends with a girl.” He took off, seeming in a hurry to ask someone.

“Well, at least he realizes I’m a girl.” Hermione shrugged.

“I’m glad he didn’t figure it out sooner.” Harry smiled.

“He wouldn’t have had a chance, Potter.” Hermione replied, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

They all studied furiously for midterms, driven by Hermione’s relentless study schedule. Harry felt confident they had all done well. With the end of the term, they had more time for their extracurricular activities, which was lucky when Hermione found him in the common room after their last test. There was a quiet party as everyone celebrated the end of term. She had a backpack with her, which was curious, since she shouldn’t need to study for at least a few days.

“Grab your cloak and the egg.” She whispered, “Meet me in the hallway.”

He did as she asked and soon they were pressed tightly together, creeping down the hall, Marauder’s Map showing the way clear of any staff.

Where are we going? He thought across the bond.

You’ll see. She said, her mental voice seeming amused.

They came to a statue of a wizard, Boris the Bewildered, with gloves on the wrong hands. Hermione took them to a nearby door.

“Pine fresh.” She whispered and the door opened. They walked inside and Harry realized they were in the most luxurious bathroom he’d ever seen. It was all white marble, with a tub the size of a swimming pool. Hundreds of gold spigots surrounded the pool. A candle filled chandelier provided light, dimming gently at Hermione’s wand gesture. She opened up several taps and the pool started filling much more quickly than Harry expected it would have in the Muggle world.

Once it was full, Harry felt a sense of dread. He hadn’t realized where they were headed and what their mission was. He was completely unprepared.

“Um, Hermione, I didn’t realize what you had in mind. I should have when you sent me for the egg, but I didn’t. I didn’t grab a suit.”

“Neither did I.” she said with the mischievous grin he’d only ever seen since they were together.

Was this his Hermione? He felt his heart beat fast and knew he was as red as Ron sometimes got. Luckily, he could tell she was also flushed, which made him more confident. They tacitly cooperated to spare some of their embarrassment and each turned away from the other to take off dressing gowns and pajamas. Hermione had dry towels already situated at the edge, with the egg indenting the thick Turkish cotton. As soon as they were both undressed, they slipped into the thick bubbles. He had peeked and he knew she had, too, but they pretended not to. He felt himself regain equilibrium once they were shoulder deep in the bubbles.

“Ok, Harry, on the count of 3. We’ll dip our heads down, open it, and listen. Ready?”

They dipped into the water and he opened the egg. They heard a singing voice reciting a song-riddle. He knew Hermione would have preferred to write it down, but he thought maybe she just did that as she did many things, out of an abundance of caution. He had begun to wonder, as he gained more access to her mind and talents, whether she had a perfect memory. He heard the riddle, but was also distracted. The dim bathroom was even darker under the bubbles, but he could still see Hermione’s luminous form, gently sweeping her arms as she listened on the other side of the egg. He hoped she couldn’t see too much detail, while wishing he could see more. Once the riddle was complete, they surfaced, breathing quickly. Without speaking, they came together in an embrace. He couldn’t believe how much wet skin he could feel, pressed against him. If he hadn’t known already, he could feel how she was developing, now that she had every inch pressed to every inch of him. They gentle kissed until even the magically heated water grew chill. The room was lit by the glow of their magic, their bond sparking like lightning between them.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Once they knew the riddle, they quickly figured out what it meant. There was only one body of water nearby. Hermione might have had some difficulty being sure what Harry would miss most, but Harry knew without question and he convinced her. The trio started brainstorming.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: This chapter is not fully connected, but is important to set the stage for what’s coming.

9. The Yule Ball

Chapter 9: The Yule Ball

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t profit.

A/N: This chapter is a bit more adult than some previous.

Christmas morning Harry awoke with a start, two huge eyes staring straight into his. He quickly scrambled back, only to see it was Dobby.

“Dobby?” he croaked, clearing his throat and reaching for his glasses.

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir! It is Dobby!” the elf exclaimed, “I wanted to wish you Happy Christmas and give you a Christmas present!”

“Of course, Dobby. I…I have something for you, too.”

He got out his oldest, mustard yellow socks. Dobby was thrilled!

“But they made a mistake when they was selling them to you, sir. They gave you two just the same!”

“How could you have missed that?” Ron laughed. “Here, Dobby, you can mix them with these.” And gave him a purple pair of socks he’d just unwrapped along with a hand knitted sweater.

“Dobby knew you must be a great wizard to be Harry Potter’s friend, but he didn’t know how great and generous you were!” Dobby said, “Here, Harry Potter, here is what Dobby has for you.”

Harry opened a pair of handmade socks. They didn’t match. One was bright red with golden broomsticks, the other was green with golden snitches.

“They’re great! Thanks, Dobby!” Harry said, “Stop opening presents, Ron. Let’s wait for Hermione. Dobby, would you mind seeing if she’s awake? If she is, tell her we’re awake and see if she wants to open presents with us.”

A few minutes later, a small pile of presents appeared on the end of Harry’s bed and Hermione stuck her bushy haired head around the corner.

“Everyone decent?” she asked, before slipping into the room in her dressing gown.

They pulled the curtains back on Harry’s bed and sat there, while Ron sat on his, right across. He opened Hermione’s gift first. It was a book, Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland. She whispered, “That’s not all of it, I’ll give you the other one later.”

Ron got Harry a full bag of dungbombs. Sirius gave him a penknife with multiple magical attachments. Hagrid had sent a pack from Honeyduke’s with all his favorite candy. Mrs. Weasley sent a hand knitted sweater, green with a Hungarian Horntail worked into the front. She had somehow made the Horntail breath yarn fire, which was pretty amazing.

Hermione got a book on Quidditch for the non-Quidditch player from Ron. She got a new leather day planner from Harry, who assured her that wasn’t his only present, either. Sirius sent her a silver and emerald hair clip that looked like it might be a family heirloom. Hagrid bought her a pack of parchment and fancy quills. Mrs. Weasley sent a sweater with a pattern of books worked into it.

Ron got a Chudley Cannon’s hat from Harry, although both Harry and Hermione winced when he put it on, because of how badly the orange hat clashed with his hair. He got a new chess set from Hermione and candy from Hagrid. Charlie had gotten him a set of dragon hide boots. Sirius event sent something, a large square box. Ron opened it and found a set of formal dress robes. He held them up and looked at Harry, looking like he wanted to say something.

“Don’t look at me.” Harry said, “It’s from Sirius. I don’t know why he’d buy you clothes, but maybe he’s still a little unstable from being in Azkaban or maybe those rich guys are just mental.”

Ron didn’t say anything, but carefully hung the robes and went to the common room. Once he was gone, Hermione whispered, “That was nice, Harry. You know he wouldn’t have taken them from you.”

They all went to breakfast, then spent the morning in the Gryffindor tower playing with presents and seeing what their classmates got. Many more students had stayed at Hogwarts this Christmas than usual, to attend the ball.

After a huge Christmas lunch, they went outside, onto the snowy grounds. Harry became embroiled in an epic snowball fight with the Weasleys, which led to forts being built and hundreds of snowballs flying across a no-man’s-land between. Hermione stayed out of the fight, until Harry tackled her into a pristine snow drift. He looked into her face, with rosy cheeks from the cold. He couldn’t believe how much he loved her and how their lives had changed since the night with Buckbeak.

“I still have your present.” He said.

“Oh? What else did you get me?” Hermione asked, biting her bottom lip.

He handed her a small velvet covered box. She looked up at him, startled.

“Open it.” He urged.

She opened the box and saw a silver colored ring with a complex pattern of celtic knotwork.

“It’s a promise ring.” Harry said, “It’s a promise that I love you and I plan to replace it with an even more meaningful ring when we’re older. Look inside.”

Inside, he’d had engraved their names and the date they’d rescued Sirius and formed their bond. Hermione threw her arms around him and kissed him. She put on the ring and they both felt the bond fizz and spark with the force of their emotions and the power of their magic.

“I love you Harry Potter!” Hermione said, “And I have another gift for you, too. It’s not this, but…”

She gave him a small box. When he opened it, he found a bracelet with chunky links and a flat band. On one side of the band were their names and the date of the bond. He was amazed she’d had the same thing engraved on his present as he’d had on hers, but somehow not surprised. On the front side, carefully etched runes covered the flat band.

“It’s to protect you. I chose the runes and engraved it myself.”

“It’s wonderful! Thank you!” Harry said, clasping it on his wrist. When it shut, a golden glow, like Hermione’s magic flared for a moment.

“It would probably only stop one stunner before it had to recharge, but anything helps, right?” Hermione asked.

“I love it.” Harry said, leaning in for more kisses.

“I need to get ready.” Hermione said, leaving his arms and walking towards the front doors.

“What, you need three hours?” Ron called, watching her walk. He paid for his distraction with a snowball to the head and the fight was rejoined.

Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville changed into their dress robes in their room. Harry’s were clearly expensive, a deep green color. Ron’s new robes were equally expensive, the latest fashion appearing almost black, but with subtle red threads visible in the right light. This red did not clash with his hair, but seemed like it had been designed to compliment. Neville, also well-off, was well dressed, but not in any way flashy. Seamus and Dean had plain dress robes, but all the boys looked appropriate. Harry looked at his wrist, how his new bracelet sparkled and shined. He liked it, especially that it was from Hermione.

Ron left the common room, he was going to pick up his date from another house. The other boys waited in the Gryffindor common room. The girls seemed to take forever, but when they appeared on the girl’s staircase, the boys thought the wait had been worth it. Ginny led the group, wearing a beautiful black dress. She walked to Neville and he seemed speechless, which made her smile. Harry was glad Ron wasn’t around to see the looks on their faces, because while he was becoming more mature, Harry wasn’t sure he was that mature, yet. Lavender and Parvati came next, walking to Seamus and Dean. Harry’s attention was only on Hermione. Her hair was sleek and shiny, twisted into an elegant knot at the back of her head. Only sleek ringlets dangling beside her face and neck spoke to the normally uncontrolled nature of her hair. The light struck mahogany and red highlights in the silken mass. Her light blue dress floated around her. The light shone on her minimal jewelry, mostly sparking off the ring that seemed to glow with its own magical light. She smiled at Harry and Harry noticed something different, her teeth didn’t have the buck-tooth appearance he was used to.

“You look brilliant, I mean gorgeous.. amazing.” Harry said, stumbling on the edge of babbling.

“You look very handsome, too, Harry.” Hermione said quietly, her hand shaking as she took his.

“You’ve got the most beautiful smile.” He whispered in her ear.

“You noticed?” she asked.

“Yes. I’ve always thought you had a beautiful smile, but I didn’t notice something different.”

“When I blocked that spell of Malfoy’s, I realized there was really no reason I couldn’t fix my teeth. If Malfoy can cast that kind of magic, it’s nothing outside of my reach. My parents might be a little irritated, but if I’m going to be magical, I might as well embrace the best parts.”

They went to the great hall, meeting up with Ron and a beautiful blonde girl with staring eyes. She was dressed in a flowing yellow/golden dress.

“Hi, everyone, this is Luna. She lives near the Burrow.” Ron said.

“Hi, Luna!” Ginny said, “You look beautiful!”

“Thanks, Ginny. You do, too. Remember to watch out for Nargles, they’re attracted to gatherings.”

Professor McGonagall summoned the champions. Harry was nervous and he could feel a little nervousness from Hermione as well, but as he touched her through the bond, he could feel them both relax. It was easier when they shared their fears. The music started and they glided together. Dance practices had paid off. Combined with his natural athletic ability and the bond that let them know where the other was going to move at all times, he realized they were actually very good dancers. He felt her happiness and pride, which set off a feedback loop, sending him into almost drunken levels of happiness.

He noticed Viktor, the Durmstrang champion, dancing with Padma Patil. He was surprised that the older boy had gone for someone Harry’s age, but she seemed happy. Fleur appeared to be with Roger Davies, although she danced with a wide assortment of boys through the night.

He and Hermione danced almost all night. Ron and Luna danced a little bit, but mostly seemed happy to sit beside the floor and talk. Neville was one of the big surprises of the night. He wasn’t sure whether it was a pure-blood tradition to be trained in dancing or whether Neville and Ginny had been practicing like he and Hermione, but they looked comfortable on the dance floor and Neville never once stepped on her toes.

After the ball, he and Hermione wandered the halls, looking for a quiet place to say goodnight. They slipped into an unused classroom. The only light was moonlight shining in through a window. He cast a locking charm on the door while Hermione cast a notice-me-not.

“You were the most beautiful woman at the ball, Hermione.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Harry. You already have me.” She blushed.

“We can’t lie to each other.” He whispered, kissing her.

Despite their nightly bond practices, which were their main outlet, they really hadn’t pushed their physical relationship very far or very fast. They hadn’t needed to, since they had another way to fulfill their desire for each other and it let them save something, leave some anticipation for the future. Seeing her in the gown, though, Harry felt like his body was on fire. He kissed her passionately and she returned it. Their bond was fully open and they let magic leak through it, magical fire adding to the fire they felt by contact. The closer they contacted, the stronger the connection. He kissed her neck, running his fingers along the base of her skull and she let her head relax back into his touch, stretching her neck for him. He kissed her collarbones, barely touching his lips before nibbling. She untucked his shirt and let her hands wander along his back, pulling him closer to her. He kissed down from her clavicle, kissing along the tops of her breasts. She took a deep breath in. He’d touched her through her clothing, but never laid his lips on her breasts and it made her desperate with wanting him to go further. He gently eased the tips of his fingers under the neckline and pushed it down and away from her body, giving him a little more room for his lips. He now could see that the dress was directly against her skin. He let his fingers wander a little further and captured her nipple while he was kissing the upper swell of her breast.

She pushed herself up on a desk and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into her. He was cradled between her legs, pushing into her. He used her other hand to push the mass of her dress out of the way so he could be closer to her. He felt his trouser front rub against her knickers and she gasped again. Hermione looked into his eyes intensely as she pushed her hips against him. She pushed her hands down his waistband in the back, clutching him to her, letting her hands rub and knead his buttocks. He pressed into her again, rubbing himself against her. Their lips met and they continued kissing. He felt her hands slide around the front and could just barely feel her fingers against him, before she realized his waistband with belt was too much to get around easily. She quickly unfastened him and her hand stroked along his length. He sucked in a breath. He’d felt her hips against him many times and she’d even grasped him through his trousers or pajamas before, but never against his bare skin. It felt amazing and he tried to tell her through looks. There was never a chance she didn’t know, with their emotions and physical feelings shooting through the bond. He pushed his hand against her, through her knickers. He could feel how moist she was and was happy to know he’d excited her as much as she had him. With hands and hips they rubbed against one another, kissing all the time. Both thought of the few motions it would take to move the last barrier of clothing aside and complete their joining, but without conscious thought, they moved away from that, to neither’s unhappiness. The bond pulsed in time to their heartbeats and to their kisses. Eventually, wet, sticky, but very happy, they left, careful to avoid wandering prefects and return to their rooms.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: I would love reviews. Let me know what you think.

10. The Second Task

Chapter 10: The Second Task

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t make money on my writing.

The morning of the second task dawned. Once again, Harry was well-prepared, having deciphered the egg two months prior. He was grateful Hermione hadn’t let him procrastinate. His mind wandered briefly as he remembered how she’d helped him decipher the clue, but he carefully brought his mind back to the here-and-now.

After breakfast he and Ron walked to the edge of the lake. Stands had been placed for spectators. A judges table had been positioned by the banks of the lake. Harry joined his fellow champions and waited for the signal to begin. They were each in swimming costumes. Harry, on the other hand, was dressed in warm winter robes, with his Gryffindor scarf around his neck. The other champions looked at him incredulously at first, but then turned their attention back to the lake. Ludo Bagman seemed particularly concerned, “Harry, are you ok? Are you ready?”

“Of course, I’m ready.” Harry replied offhandedly, glancing at his watch.

“Sonorous. All our champions have one hour to return what we have taken from them. On the count of three: one, two, three!”

The other champions jumped into the lake. Krum transformed himself into half shark, half man hybrid, while Cedric and Fleur conjured bubble head charms. Harry just waited, pulling a warm robe from his backpack and glancing once more at his watch. Many of the judges, particularly Professor Dumbledore, were watching him closely, wondering what he was up to. Dumbledore knew he valued what was taken, he couldn’t understand why Harry wasn’t more desperate.

Harry walked to a specific place by the lake bed and glanced at his watch a final time. With a flash, Hermione was standing next to him. He caught her unconscious body and wrapped her in the warm robe as she began to wake.

“What is this?” Karkaroff shouted. “He cheated! He didn’t even enter the water!”

“I don’t think anything said I had to enter the lake.” Harry said calmly, gazing lovingly at Hermione, “Just recover the thing I value most in an hour. I think I managed.”

Eventually the other contestants returned with their hostages, all except Fleur. The mer-people returned her little sister, Gabrielle, after the Grindylows balked the Beauxbaton’s champion. Harry got full points, despite Karkaroff’s words. Nobody could dispute his masterful plan and talented spell casting, even though it was done ahead of time. He had been confident in what he valued most and with that foundation, the rest of the task had been easy.

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Flashback:

Initially, they thought of ways to help Harry breathe under water. Hermione hadn’t been able to come up with anything initially, but with a few days to research she thought of the bubblehead charm. They’d quietly conferred with some of their classmates and Neville had suggested gillyweed. Harry didn’t have Hermione’s research talent and his intellect might not be quite on par with the smartest witch of her age, but he did have a talent for innovative thinking. He considered muggle scuba equipment and that reminded him of Jaques Cousteau special he’d seen on tele, making him wonder if they could buy a propeller driven ‘sea-scooter’. They all laughed at that, but it got them throwing a number of crazy ideas out. Ways to travel faster made Harry think of apparating. He could almost time exactly when Hermione said, “Don’t you remember what it says in Hogwarts, a History? You can’t apparate on the school grounds!”

“Can’t apparate, but could we portkey?” Harry asked.

“Hmmm…ok, maybe. Would that count as you rescuing me?” Hermione asked.

“If I created the portkey, it should, shouldn’t it?” Harry said.

“What if I’m not conscious to use it?” Hermione said.

“That’s a good question; can you set one to be remote controlled?”

“I probably could create a spell like that. I could make it timed even more easily, but we don’t know when to time it for…” Hermione thought.

“This is a really crazy idea, but we know you’re going to be under the lake. What if I made a portkey, then placed it inside the same thing that muggle capsules are made out of, something that will dissolve in water. When it dissolves, the portkey will touch your skin and you’ll be portkeyed out.” Harry offered.

“That’s possible, but timed might be better. We know what time the task is going to be, don’t we? I think we could design it to be set for a certain time.” Hermione said, growing more confident.

“Ok, let me think about it.” Ron said, “Why don’t you two research portkey creation. Figure out if Harry can even create one and if a portkey can work underwater. Meanwhile, I’ll think of a few other options, in case this doesn’t pan out.”

“What about switching spells?” Harry asked Hermione as they began to look for books on portkeys. “Could I switch you with something else, returning you to the land that way?”

“Very likely, although range can be a significant factor. It would take a very strong wizard to use a switching spell over the kind of range.”

The most difficult part had been deciding the exact location to target. They had actually waited until the day prior when the judges table had been positioned to finalize the target. By then, they’d done dozens of ‘dry runs’ and a few wet, confirming that a timed-portkey could return a human from the lake to the shore. It also gave Harry time to practice with gillyweed, an alternative he’d had ready in case the portkey hadn’t worked.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: So I’m guessing I’ll receive some negative reviews for this way of solving the second task. I think some will say portkey isn’t possible on Hogwarts, but given the significance of the canon third task, I think that has to be a poor argument, unless I’m forgetting something.

Now, whether they could make a portkey is a different question. Harry’s also not supposed to be able to cast a patronus, so it’s clear he can do very advanced magic. I think this shows once again how with Hermione’s intellect and work ethic and Harry’s natural power, the combination would achieve things neither did alone or even working together with the limited coordination you can reach without a bond.

I welcome reviews and will try to think through any complaints.

11. The Lull Before the Storm

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t plan to make money from my writing.

The lull before the Storm

Dumbledore summoned them to his office the day after the second task. He hadn’t called them often and they had begun to wonder whether he was done training them.

“Come in.” Dumbledore said, “Lemon drop?”

“No, thank you.” Both declined.

“Excellent job on the second task! I was actually surprised. I would have thought portkey creation beyond even you, Mr. Potter. It’s the kind of complicated, almost ritual magic that I’ve come to expect from Miss Granger, but when we examined it, we could see it was your work. I assume she taught you how to enchant it?”

Harry felt a little irritated that Professor Dumbledore didn’t think he could have done it himself, but as he thought back, he realized it wasn’t the kind of thing he normally did. It seemed very normal to him now and when he thought of Hermione, he less and less thought of her kind of magic and his kind of magic, now it was just their kind of magic. Since they’d both brought different strengths into the bond, he realized that now they covered just about everything. She had been better at ritual, planned magic. Runes and enchantments, complicated transfigurations, those had started to become her specialty, while instant magic, like often used in defense against dark arts, had been becoming his. Now, though, he realized she was as fast as he was and he was as meticulous as she. She could fly a broom as well as he could, which had surprised her when she’d done it. It was like she’d had a phobia that had disappeared by surprise. He tried to think of how to explain this all to Professor Dumbledore, but decided he didn’t want to even try. Maybe it was a secret weapon they should keep to themselves, at least a little bit.

“She did help me learn the spell, yes.” Harry said, simply, “The hardest part was worrying about whether the anti-apparation wards would interfere, whether it could be done underwater, and where to pick for an arrival location. We thought the timing modification might be difficult, but it turned out to be easy to link a chronos charm and set a time, like a muggle timer.”

“Very impressive. Your grades have really improved, too. You’re at the top of the class, with Miss Granger in everything, even runes and arithmancy. We thought you might have difficulty catching up there.”

Harry thought about it. He had worried about that, too, but hadn’t even thought about it in such a long time that he’d forgotten.

“I haven’t called you to my office, much, because you’re doing everything I could ask. You’re learning at a prodigious rate. I feel like everything has changed this year and for the better. Even Mr. Weasley is becoming a respectable student. Professor Snape says that occulomency is coming along well… perhaps he tends to use the words ‘adequate’ and ‘not totally hopeless’ but from him this is high praise indeed. Now, what I want to call you for was to check more closely on the progress from the bond. I told you that auramancy, if used often enough, could be used without wand or incantation?”

“Yes, Professor, you did.” Hermione said, “Can you teach us to do that? Is there perhaps a book to read?”

“Another book?” Professor Dumbledore said, with raised eyebrow, “The librarian already told me you checked out every book in the library that even mentioned auramancy.”

Hermione blushed.

“No, I think practical application would be helpful. Let’s start with something you know. Look at each other, try to see each other’s auras, look at the bond.”

That was something always on the edge of their consciousness, so to go from feeling it to seeing it just took a slight change of perspective. Their occulomency training helped focus the mind and quickly, they could see each other’s auras. They were shocked to see that while Harry’s was still predominantly green and Hermione’s was still mostly golden, they were so mixed as to be almost indistinguishable. The bond, from a ribbon of light, was more like a simple transition in the flow of a single aura. When the two glanced at Professor Dumbledore, they noticed they could still see his golden aura. Fawkes had a flaming red-gold aura. Many of the devices around the room had small auras of their own.

“Oh, my.” Hermione said, “I can see how this could be useful. I can sense certain magic by the aura. I think I see the wards, locking charms, and such you have around the room.”

“Exactly! 10 points to Gryffindor! This is one reason that most aurors pursue auramancy to a certain extent. They use it differently than healers, but it is still very useful.” Professor Dumbledore said, “Do you appreciate how far along your auras and the bond have come?”

The two teens nodded.

“I also noticed the promise ring, Miss Granger. I don’t usually involve myself in the personal business of my students, but this is one time that I must make an exception. I am essentially Harry’s wizarding guardian. Lord Black is his official guardian, but we’re still trying to decide how to proceed with clearing his name so he can take a more active role in Harry’s care, so I offered to continue in my informal role.

Now, I have rarely talked to you about your family, Harry. I wanted you to concentrate on your studies and staying safe. However, there are some issues that it has become essential to discuss. Seeing you wearing the Potter crest and seeing the ring made me realize we have no choice.

Now, what century would you two say wizarding Britain is in, relative to the Muggle world?”

“Mmmm…servants, sharp class distinctions, boarding schools. I suppose it seems very Victorian to me, sir.” Hermione offered.

“Yes with many traditions even older. In Victorian England, they would have used fountain pens, but we’re still using quills. Our government and culture are very behind. We still emphasize class distinctions, as you’ve noticed. Well, Harry is a Potter, just as Neville is a Longbottom, and that means something. Part of the reason Sirius and James were such good friends at school is that while they were from wildly different families, they were from the same class. In fact, the Blacks and the Potters are related many times if you go back far enough.

Through deaths in the family, Sirius is the head of his house, Lord Black. In the same manner, when he comes of age, Harry will be head of his house, Lord Potter.”

“What?” Harry exclaimed.

“Yes, Harry. That’s part of why your parents were living in that modest house. Nobody would have expected Lord and Lady Potter to be living in a cottage. We did everything we could to hide them, but that was not where they would normally have lived.

Now, as you two become closer, it’s important you begin to assume your role. As you bond, you will be drawn together. Emotionally, intellectually, and, not to be crude, physically. Because of our culture, it’s important that certain steps be taken before you get too far down that path. Otherwise, you’ll hurt your standing and make it more difficult for Miss Granger to be accepted later. Miss Granger, I’ve asked Miss McGonagall to meet with you to discuss some of these issues, as it’s not my place to speak to a young woman. I will send you to her office via floo in a moment, but first, a broad overview of my plan:

I want to begin proceedings to have Harry declared ‘of age’. If we have Lord Black cleared quickly enough, he can stand as guardian, but otherwise I think we should strive to have him emancipated and fully vested as Head of House Potter and Lord Potter. Then, he will be able to access his full inheritance, not just the trust vault he has access to now. He will be able to make alliances and bonds as needed.

Now, Hermione, I will ask you to go speak with Minerva.”

Hermione took floo powder, said, “Professor McGonagall’s office” and passed through.

“Harry, those who are well trained in auramancy and closely attuned to the magic flowing through this castle can ‘feel’ your bond progressing. You two have become the two most powerful students. To be honest, in raw magical power and potential, you’re among the most powerful inhabitants of this castle, which means you influence the gestalt magical aura of the castle. That’s even truer now that you’ve spent months feeding your magical power into the wards. The castle recognizes you in a way, as you are part of its lifeforce.

Because you are good, that influence is good. Despite the Tri-Wizard tournament, this has been one of the calmest terms I can recall here. Our students are flourishing.

However, being sensitive to your power, I can tell that you and Hermione are being drawn to a full bond. Because of your station and because of certain quirks of magical power, I think you should be married before you completely bond.

Marriage in the magical community can be a ritual bonding of two people to lead a house. It is an assumption of power. Your bond and your magical power will come to greatest fruition with the guidance of that ritual. Also, by meeting cultural expectations as one of the lords of our society, you’ll ease certain fears that will arise due to Miss Granger’s status and your heritage from your mother and from your raising.

Now, before you get angry, realize I do not fully agree with those fears, but I realize you will make more headway fighting from within the system rather from the outside.

So, I propose for now that I, as your proxy, as Sirius’ agent, and as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, will begin to make the motion to have you assume your role as Lord Potter with all rights and responsibilities. I will try to gain you access to your full inheritance, including the Potter wedding regalia. I would suggest that an engagement might be to her benefit. It will give her a certain status even within the pureblood community and give you recourse to protect her within that culture. Meanwhile, I will ask you to exercise restraint with Miss Granger. Certain powers will be most fully yours if you come into your marriage innocent of certain physical acts. You do not need to marry her before you’re ready, but realize it is not expected in the Wizarding world to wait as long as it is in the Muggle. Your father married by 18 and had you by the time he was 20. Due to your being the last of the Potters and bonded to your future wife, it would not be unseemly to be married at your will.”

Harry just looked on stunned.

“No reason to be frightened! I know you haven’t had anyone to really teach you about these things, so I felt it was essential it be done. Now, I’ll send you to your common room. I expect Miss Granger will meet you there.”

He flooed to the common room. Some minutes later, Hermione came through from McGonagall’s office.

“Harry?” she asked, seeming worried.

“Hermione.” Harry said, distracted.

“Are you… you don’t have to…” Hermione started.

“What? Oh, no. You don’t have to, either.” Harry said, as he picked up from the bond what she was thinking.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured. I think my parents are going to be surprised by how fast this is going, if we let it happen like Dumbledore is proposing, but… I don’t object. I want it.”

“Really?” Harry said, surprised and relieved.

“Are you kidding? You’re a catch!” she said, laughing, “Besides, with the bond, we’re closer than most couples are already. The main objections would be that we’re too young to take care of ourselves, but we’re more mature than anyone else our age and with your inheritance, it’s not like we’d have to have jobs right away.

Professor McGonagall also told me of magical reasons to let it proceed more quickly. If…if we wait until we’re married to be together sexually. If I’m intact on our wedding night,” Hermione said, assuming the clinical detachment she often did when she was saying something embarrassing, “Then guided by the ritual of marriage, the actual act will be something of a sacrifice. So much ancient magic is represented by love, by blood, and by lifeforce. These forces, combined with our bond, have the potential to bring us to our greatest magical power. Not waiting could sacrifice some small portion of what we could be. Plus, an engagement would put me under your protection as Head of the Potter house. I despise the sentiment that I might need to be protected, but understand how it might help with the pureblood fanatics.”

“I don’t mind waiting for the physical act.” Harry said, “I’m glad they told us now. They might have been too late if they’d waited any longer.”

“After Yule ball, they might have been much too late.” Hermione said with a naughty grin.

They kissed, bonded, and went to sleep.

The next day, Harry sent Hedwig with a long letter to Sirius, asking what he thought.

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Professor Dumbledore was true to his word. He began to press for a trial for Sirius. It would have been better to have Peter Pettigrew captured, but with veritaserum and pensieves, it wouldn’t be essential. He laid the foundation to ensure Sirius wouldn’t be kissed by Dementors if he turned himself in and the trial started. It didn’t take long, with Professor Dumbledore’s support, Sirius’ money and Black family solicitors, to achieve what they wanted. Sirius had the support of the purebloods, given his place in society. He had the support of the more progressive elements, given his allies. He had Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s memories of the confrontation with Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew had nothing and if he presented himself to testify, would have been captured. With little opposition except a half-hearted effort by Minister Fudge, embarrassed that he’d locked away an innocent man for so long, Sirius was soon exonerated.

Once Sirius was no longer wanted, they had the reading of the Potter will at the Ministry. Goblin representatives were present. Sirius was declared Harry’s guardian, both physical and magical. He decreed that Harry would assume his status as Lord Potter, with Lord Black’s guidance. Harry gained access and control over the entire Potter inheritance, with Sirius’ supervision required for large purchases, sales, or house treaties.

Sirius and Harry went to Diagon Alley and Gringott’s. Sirius accompanied Harry through the main Potter vaults, which made the rich appearing trust vault look like pocket change. Cabinets against the walls held many heirlooms and an entire rack was filled with jewelry. Harry looked at every ring until he found what he wanted. A golden wedding set, with an engagement ring with a single large round diamond flanked by two indeterminate stones. As Harry touched it, those stones changed to emerald and sapphire. Harry considered why those two stones, but realized the sapphire represented Hermione. Blue was her favorite color for herself, sapphire was her birthstone and represented clear thinking. Emerald represented his eyes and his aura. He was a little surprised it was not July’s birthstone of ruby, but he did feel like the emerald represented him more. He pocketed the engagement ring, the wedding band that matched, and a plain men’s band before leaving the vault. Sirius watched him, smiling, thinking of a similar trip he and James had made to the same vault.

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Harry invited Hermione to Hogsmeade. She laughed at him, since they always went together when he was allowed to go. He had taken Ron aside and told him they had lunch plans together that needed to be private. He half expected Ron to be jealous, but Ron said he was taking Luna, so that was ok.

Harry took Hermione on their usual shopping trips, but when it came time for lunch, she wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks like they usually did, but he pulled her aside to a small white tablecloth set off the road in some trees. He had cast multiple spells and the area had a warming charm and was screened by thick flowering rose bushes, blooming. Dobby appeared with a full lunch of all Hermione’s favorite food. They ate together, sometimes feeding themselves and sometimes each other.

“So what’s all this?” She asked.

“What, can’t I do anything romantic for you?” Harry asked. He was startled when she hiccupped and seemed about to cry.

“Nobody has before. No, this is perfect. I’m sorry, I’m not like that, it’s just been that this last year has been so perfect. Ever since you kissed me, things have still been crazy, like they always are around you, but so perfect.”

“Good. Perfect is what I want for you. It’s what I always want for you. Forever.” And going to one knee, he held out a small wooden box. “Will you let me try to do that, forever?”

She made an inarticulate noise as he opened the box. She flapped her arms as she saw the ring. For once, Hermione was speechless. When she recovered, she only had one word to say.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

They kissed and just let the happiness of the moment infuse them. The golden glow surrounding them was easily visible, but nobody bothered them, protected as surely as if the most powerful wards were cast.

After they finished, Hermione spent the rest of the Hogsmeade trip showing her classmates her ring. They had made an effort to find Ron first. He had shaken his head and then pulled them both into a powerful hug. The trio had changed their dynamic, but was still the trio. After a long embrace between the three of them, Luna leaned in close and they pulled her in, too.

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Arriving back at the castle, they attended dinner in the great hall. Harry walked to the head table and asked if he could meet with the Headmaster that evening. Dumbledore had smiled and said to come to his office at his convenience.

After he’d walked Hermione back to the common room, Harry went to Dumbledore’s office. The gargoyle opened at his approach, without waiting for a password. Harry continued to be amazed at the unprecedented availability of the Headmaster when it came to him. He was somewhat embarrassed by his “favorite student” status, but would take advantage of it in certain circumstances, which he felt this was.

“Harry, what can I do for you?”

“Professor, I’ve been thinking about what you told me. Sirius has begun to instruct me in wizarding protocol and government to prepare me to take my place in society. It’s all a bit overwhelming for a boy from the cupboard.”

Dumbledore winced at that reminder of Harry’s childhood. He’d thought he was justified in leaving Harry with the Dursley’s for Harry’s own safety, but realized he had done a completely inadequate job of keeping track of how well they’d taken care of him. He was simply stretched too thin and like many geniuses, he was perhaps somewhat scatter brained when it came to more practical roles, particularly raising children. He’d never found out the extent of how poorly treated Harry had been. He had learned about the cupboard and had ensured that had been corrected. He’d thought about asking for more detail, but realized that his waiver to the underage magic laws had protected Harry last summer from threats from inside the house, just as the blood protections protected him from threats from outside. With Sirius freedom, the Dursleys were not going to be involved in any way in the future. While that meant the end of the blood protections, the Headmaster realized Harry was beginning to finally progress to the point where his childhood, passive protections were no longer as sorely needed. He even wondered whether marriage to Hermione made her a relative and living with her might maintain the wards. It normally required a blood relative and Hermione was not that, but with the bond and eventually with marriage, she might be indistinguishable from Harry in a legal/magical sense and might meet the requirement to maintain the blood ward. He shook himself away from his thoughts and refocused on Harry.

“Can you allow me to floo to Sirius from time to time or for him to floo here, to teach me what I need to know to really act as a Lord?”

“That won’t be a problem, Harry.”

They completed their brief discussion of plans and Harry returned to Hermione, where she was busily studying for Arithmancy. He picked up his books and notes and joined her.

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The prophet published an article revealing Harry’s assumption of the Potter lordship and his engagement to Hermione. Over the next days, Hermione began receiving many owls, some of them congratulating her, but many disapproving, suggesting she had used love potions to influence his affections. They arranged for Dobby and Winky to process their mail as part of their daily duties and it simplified life.

Hermione had continued her research from early in the year. While there was some variation in the early tasks, the final task had always been a maze, which then allowed multiple challenges to be thrown at all three, or in this case four, wizards competing. The wizarding world was so bound by tradition that she doubted this task would change. The maze or labyrinth was a magical tradition dating back to the Aegean island of Crete, also called Minoa. Given the antiquity of mazes and their connection to the wizarding world, there were many spells which might be helpful. The use of some of these was documented in descriptions of prior Tri-Wizard tournaments. Hermione culled the best of these and wrote them in her training list to learn with Harry. Some seemed less useful and she wrote them down to learn if there was sufficient time.

The story of the original labyrinth kept coming back to her attention. She’d learned more about tapping into her subconscious mind since bonding with Harry and she had learned to trust her instincts much more. When she couldn’t immediately pinpoint what about the story had her attention, she reread it a few times to commit it to memory and then stopped thinking about it, knowing her mind would continue to work on the problem in the background, so long as she didn’t let her conscious mind interfere.

One afternoon as she, Ron, and Harry flew their brooms for exercise, she made the connection. Flying… Daedalus… escape from the labyrinth…

Harry looked at her as the pieces fell into place. He could sense her thought process go into overdrive as she slipped into the incredible processing speed that was one part her genius and one part a legacy from Harry’s ability to piece things together in an instant.

“I’ve got to go the library! See you in the hall.” She said, swooping her broom around instantly and flying at top speed to the door of the castle.

“That girl’s mental!” Ron boggled, amazed at her flying. “When did she learn to fly like that?”

“About the time I figured out how to study, Ron.”

In the library, she went to her notes and books about prior Tri-Wizard tournaments, looking for descriptions of wards or domes around the final task. There were notes of complicated barriers sometimes used as obstacles within the maze, but no mention of obstacles used around the maze. Her idea might work!

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Harry had a sense of events accelerating towards some momentous conclusion. It seemed to be the normal pace of his Hogwart’s years. Things were relatively calm and then as the end of the academic year approached, there would be a dangerous climax. He almost expected it, so the feeling was not surprising. This year, though, there were enough scheduled events to explain the feeling, especially the third task in the tournament scheduled in late June.

Between studying, preparing for the third task, extra dueling practice, and occulomency practice, there was almost no time to think. Harry was spending a lot of time with Hermione, but not much of it was as private as he’d like. Her mother, Jane Granger, had initially been owling daily, but eventually Professor Dumbledore had arranged for the Granger home to be connected to the floo network, so they could travel back and forth. Harry knew he was lucky that Hermione had kept her parents well informed with her frequent owls home. Since the events that led to their first kiss and ensuing bond, Hermione had even accelerated the pace of her correspondence home, caught in the flush of her first relationship and needing the advice of her mother. So while Hermione’s parents were somewhat shocked at the pace of the relationship, they knew that it was influenced by the magical connection and by Harry’s status in the wizarding world. Given that her early letters had portrayed him as an orphan and likely destitute, finding out he was an heir came as a surprise, but they quickly recovered.

Another stress to Harry were male bonding rituals with Oberon Granger. He had been surprised to learn that Shakespearean names were something of a strange tradition in the Granger family, explaining Hermione’s name. With special permission, he’d spent one Saturday with Mr. Granger and his godfather, Sirius Black. When Harry first met Mr. Granger, he’d gotten a sense of menace from him, but having faced a Hungarian Horntail, he had faced the crucible of unbelievable menace before and while a dragon was not as frightening as his future bride’s father, it was good practice. He strengthened his occulomentic shields to govern his emotions and was otherwise just himself. It had apparently worked. Once Oberon realized Harry was genuine and not looking to take advantage of his daughter, he’d become very welcoming. It didn’t hurt that Hermione seemed happier and healthier than she had ever been before. Harry obviously had the support of the school and was, with Hermione, one of the top students. Sirius had left them alone to talk.

“Harry, my main question for you, is why so early?” Oberon asked. “If you love one another now, which I believe you that you do, you’ll still love each other in a few years. Why not wait to formalize the relationship with an engagement? You’re fourteen and she’s fifteen, that’s very young.”

“I agree, Mr. Granger, but our situation really is unique. First, we’ve told you about the soul bond, but it’s difficult to really understand. There really is no single rule for these bonds, as they’re very rare and variable. However, ours has progressed to the point where we are constantly hearing each other’s thoughts. Our talents and abilities have been passed on to the other, so I’ve become better at school, while she’s become more athletic. Our magic has even merged, to where we’re equally strong, stronger than either of us would have been before. Given how our bond has progressed, we’re never going to be able to be with anyone else. To break this bond would likely kill us or drive us insane. With the bond, we can never hurt each other, not without feeling the pain as if we’d hurt ourselves. Do you see what that means? Our age would normally be problem, because with age comes wisdom, but your daughter was wise at a young age and I benefit from her wisdom. Not that it takes much wisdom, because to know how I make her feel only requires that I think about it and I know. No more time will let us decide if we’re right for each other, because there are no other options. We’re either right for each other or we’ll have to be alone.

Second, I’m the last heir of one of the ancient wizarding families. It is not considered that odd for me to marry young, because there is clear reason.

Third, we don’t have to rely on jobs, as I have a sizeable inheritance. We’ll continue to study, because we value education and we’ll need to be educated to face our responsibilities, but there’s no reason to delay our marriage for that, as we’ll both be pursuing education until we die, I’d expect.

So, while I agree that there are excellent reasons to wait, I think we have special circumstances that mean this relationship will progress faster than any of us would ordinarily choose, Mr. Granger.”

“Given that you’re going to be family, why don’t you call me Obie or if you want, I don’t mind if you call me dad. You’ve made some good points. However, those all seem to apply to you. What if you marry my daughter and then decide to leave her? Will she still have money from your inheritance?”

Harry had to stop and breathe. The suggestion that he would leave Hermione was truly offensive to him. She sent calming thoughts through the bond and reminded Harry that her father had a solely muggle viewpoint.

“Sir, that’s what I’m trying to say about the bond. I couldn’t leave Hermione if I tried. I’d die first. There’s no reason I’d want to, but even if I somehow did, I couldn’t. Although, if you want to, I’d be happy to write a marriage contract stating that if somehow we did manage this impossibility, she could have half my possessions if it would make you feel better.”

“Ok, I believe you that you couldn’t, but it would make me feel better if she had some sort of trust to help her regain her feet should something happen. What about children? If you have children, won’t that disrupt her education? As a medical professional, I know that women’s bodies aren’t even fully mature for some years, yet. It would be a terrible strain on her to have a child at this age and how would you raise a child, as you’re both still children? One of your reasons for marrying this young is due to being the orphan heir to a great family. That seems to imply you’d need children as soon as possible, which adds to my fears.”

Harry nodded. This concern seemed to make a lot of sense.

“I see your concern. You’re right, it would be better if I had an heir, but I’m not in a hurry. I’d planned on waiting for this. However, I think magical medicine is more advanced than muggle medicine. I know I’ve had all the bones in my arm regrown after an accident, which couldn’t be done by muggle medicine. I think you and your wife could consult Madame Pomfrey, our healer at the school, and find out if there are magical means to make pregnancy easier on a young witch. Again, we don’t plan on actually marrying and definitely not on having children for some time, yet.”

“You’re planning on waiting, but at 14 or even Hermione’s 15, plans may go out the window when hormones take over. How do magical folks prevent pregnancy, anyway?”

Harry started to blush, but reinforced his mental shields and drew on Hermione’s clinical detachment to try to stay mature. He didn’t need to make his future father-in-law see him as even more of a boy.

“Maybe you should speak with Madame Pomfrey. I’m sure Hermione has already spoken to Mrs. Granger about it. I know that wizards are taught, I have been taught, to cast an anti-contraceptive charm on myself. I had to prove to Madame Pomfrey that I could cast it correctly before she’d release me from our special class.”

“Well, Harry, you’ve managed to impress me. It’s clear you’ve thought through the problems and at least have decent answers. I’m still shocked, but you seem to be a fine young man. I feel like we’ve known you for three years. So while I think Hermione’s too young, I’m willing to give my blessings to your engagement.

By the way, do you golf?”

“I’m more of a quidditch player, but I wouldn’t mind learning.” Harry offered.

The three men had invited Remus Lupin and gone to a muggle golf course. Both Sirius and Remus had played before, although not often. Harry was just learning, but had a gift for athletics, particularly those where speed and precision were important. They had a pleasant time. Harry had noticed that Oberon had tried to give him as many beers as he would accept and seemed pleased when he stopped after one. He had a sense he’d made a good impression and he hoped it was enough to provide a foundation for their ongoing relationship.

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Harry didn’t have to take the end of year tests, but Hermione did, so they spent more of their time revising as the end of term neared. Harry spent hours dueling with Ron, Hermione, or sometimes Professor Moody. Moody was good, but sometimes Harry was surprised at what he didn’t know. With his interest in being an auror, Harry had done some research on the career field and Professor Moody was one of the legends. However, when dueling with Professor Moody, he seemed to have a limited repertoire and his casting was sloppy. He was ruthless, though, and Harry felt like he was learning and progressing rapidly.

Sometimes while he was dueling with Professor Moody, Ron and Hermione would meet in the library and continue to research the likely third task and plan strategy. Hermione was the primary researcher and she fed likely obstacles to Ron. Ron created strategy and gave Hermione more avenues to research, encouraging her to research spells that might accomplish what he felt Harry’s best strategy might be. Sometimes Hermione had to come back to Ron and tell him what he wanted was impossible and they continued to plan for other options.

Meanwhile, their revision schedule was intense. Hermione was a task master, holding tightly to her study schedule. Sometimes Harry felt they didn’t really need to study as hard as they did, but he better understood her drive for perfection now that he could feel her emotions and he felt like he might be helping her to relax about the outcome, paradoxically allowing her to study more efficiently since without anxiety she wasn’t distracted by feelings of hopelessness.

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In late May, Harry was told to go to the Quidditch pitch at 9 p.m. to learn what the third task was. Hermione was very excited, which Harry could barely understand, even with their connection. He believed in her research and felt like they already knew what the task was. However, she had kept their final strategy secret until she was certain what the final task was. Given how hard it was to keep secrets from each other, Harry had just cooperated, knowing she would share when she was ready.

At half past 8 he began the walk to the pitch. He met up with Cedric at the entrance hall and they walked the rest of the way.

“What have they done to our Quidditch pitch?” Cedric said indignantly as they walked past the stands.

Instead of the flat field, there were low rises in complicated patterns. Many stakes held young plants supported with twine.

“They’re hedges.” Harry exclaimed.

“Can anyone guess what we’re building?” Bagman asked the four champions.

Nobody answered for a long pause. Harry, of course, knew and had known since Hermione had found it in the library, but he felt like he shouldn’t be the one to answer.

“A maze?” Krum grunted.

“Right! A maze!” Ludo Bagman said, “The final task is a maze! It’s really quite straightforward. We build a maze and put the cup at the center. Whoever touches it first, wins!”

“We simple ‘ave to get through a maze?” Fleur wondered.

“Well, there will be obstacles. Magical creatures, spells, and other obstacles, but essentially yes. Those with the most points going in get a time advantage, setting off into the maze first. Then each person enters based on the current point standings.” Mr. Bagman said, looking at Harry, “First Mr. Potter, then Mr. Diggory, then Mr. Krum, then Miss Delacour.”

The champions walked together away from the pitch and towards their respective houses. Harry split from the others as they approached the castle and walked towards Hagrid’s hut, hoping to catch his friend and see if he could catch any hints in discussion, given how poorly the half-giant kept secrets. However, as he neared the hut, he heard something rustling in the woods. He swiftly pulled his wand as he considered whether he should back away.

Suddenly, a man staggered out of the woods. He was disheveled, with torn robes and with sticks in his hair. Even worse, he was conversing with someone next to him that was clearly not there. Harry recognized Mr. Crouch from the Quidditch world cup.

Hermione, recognizing the panic in his mind, called to him over the bond.

Harry, what’s wrong?

Mr. Crouch, near Hagrid’s hut, he may be injured, send a Professor! Harry thought hard, sending the message over their link.

He rushed to Mr. Crouch’s side just in time to lower him to the ground as he collapsed. Harry didn’t know any healing spells, so put his robe under Mr. Crouch’s head and tried to talk to him.

“Mr. Crouch, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“Weatherby, please send an owl to Dumbledore, confirming the number of Durmstrang students, Karkaroff has informed us there will be twelve.”

“I’ve sent for Dumbledore.” Harry said, “He should be here soon. Are you hurt?”

“Dumbledore!” gasped Mr. Crouch, seeming to understand at least that much, “I need to see Dumbledore! I’ve done… a stupid… thing. Need… see Dumbledore. Who are you?”

“I’m one of his students.” Harry said, thinking it might be unwise to give his name if he wasn’t recognized already.

“You’re not… His? You’re Dumbledore’s?” Mr. Crouch hissed, his eyes focusing intently.

“Headmaster Dumbledore’s student, that’s right.” Harry answered, confused.

Just then, Snape, in his billowing black robes walked up to them, looking like a giant bat. Trailing only slightly behind him was Professor Dumbledore in dark green robes with Hermione in her school robes.

“Mr. Potter, what is going on here?” Snape hissed, “What trouble are you getting into? Miss Granger had some ridiculous story… Mr. Crouch?”

The professor knelt by Mr. Crouch. He pulled a potion flask from his robes and started to tip it towards the man’s mouth, when from the woods, a flash of sickening green light flew, impacting Mr. Crouch’s chest, which went instantly still.

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and the trees on the edge of the forest began waving their branches, much like the Whomping Willow. No further spells came from the forest.

“I think the assassin escaped.” The headmaster said, “The trees can not see him.”

Harry was shaking with the reaction of seeing a man killed directly in front of him.

“Mr. Potter, tell us what happened.” Professor Snape said, catching Harry’s eyes. Harry instantly threw up occulomentic shields, in reflex blocking his teacher. Surprisingly, it wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust him anymore, but here was the man who’d taught him to always block his thoughts, so it was ingrained.

“Sorry, Professor.” Harry said, carefully lowering his shields slightly to let Snape skim the last few minutes’ memories.

“His.” Professor Snape said, quietly. “Headmaster, I think we should discuss this in your office.”

All four walked back to the castle, Professor Dumbledore having transfigured a twig into a shroud, draped the body, and levitated it behind them.

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They discussed the events, decided that “His” clearly said with significance and capitol letters, must somehow refer to Voldemort. However, without a clearer threat, the Headmaster had expressed his preference to continue the championship as already planned.

Harry and Hermione returned to their common room shaken. They practiced their bond for comfort, love, and knowing they needed all the power they could get.

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Professor Dumbledore met with Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick.

“I am concerned. It is not clear what has happened to Mr. Crouch, but he’s clearly terrified and it appears to be Lord Voldemort he is terrified of. His association with the Tri-Wizard tournament and Mr. Potter’s selection are both abnormalities that should make us pay heed. What are your thoughts.”

“I think we should cancel the tournament.” Snape hissed in a low voice, “Mr. Potter should never have been allowed to compete. Our long term plans should not be risked in this asinine way.”

“But the reason we allowed him to compete at all,” Minerva McGonagall replied, “this is a magical contract, all the Champions are required to compete. They could lose their magic if they do not. What would that do to our ‘long term plans’?”

“Very complicated questions arise when you consider ancient magic artifacts and their enchantments. When you layer additional charms, such as whatever was likely used to fool the Goblet, I think it becomes quite difficult to predict the result.” Flitwick mused. “Although the contract would be met if we ended the tournament. You can recall I advocated we do just that at the beginning. A few days would have been wasted redrawing champions, but it could have prevented this kind of fear.”

“It also would have left the wizard or witch who charmed the Goblet free and we might not know what they planned next time. Is it better to face the known danger rather than the unknown?” Dumbledore mused, looking over his glasses. His normal grandfatherly look was absent and this was clearly the General speaking with his officers.

“Albus!” Minerva exclaimed, “You’re speaking as if to use the boy as bait!”

“What if he is?” Snape asked, sounding the perfect Slytherin, “Perhaps the Headmaster is right. After all, we will be watching the tournament.”

Flitwick merely glared, which would not normally be frightening from a diminutive man who had to stand on stacks of books to be seen in classroom, but was terrifying if you understood his history as a dueling champion.

“We will continue. We will closely observe. The boy is developing new depths and I think we must encourage that. This final task is calculated to push the Champions to new heights of magic and I think we must hope this trend continues. “ Dumbledore ruled, “Please continue to watch. If you have additional ideas how to more closely monitor, please tell me.”

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A/N: Someone critiqued me that my chapters were too short. What is the perfect chapter length? This time I went for length at some cost to it being a single theme. I will continue to play around and don’t anticipate consistency.

12. The Third Task

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t profit from my writing.

Chapter 12: The Third Task

The Golden Trio researched, strategized, and trained incessantly for Harry to perform the third task. Hermione had discovered the “four points” spell and taught Harry to cast it, to help him navigate through the maze. Harry and Hermione had practiced auramancy, working to distinguish different auras in order to more quickly identify spells, enchanted items, and hidden dangers. Ron and Hermione had met in the library and in empty classrooms for so many hours, if it hadn’t been for the bond, Harry knew he might have begun to suspect them having something romantic, but eventually they’d shared their plan and he had to admit that if it worked, it was worth every minute.

Meanwhile, Harry had practiced every spell he knew incessantly. He’d practiced dispelling various magic spells, thinking that he might have to break through spelled traps in the maze. In the library he’d begun to research curse breaking and wards, thinking that he might have to penetrate magical barriers. Harry had spent time with Hagrid in his cabin, discussing various magic beasts and how best to defeat them. Hagrid was an amazing font of knowledge in the one limited area, but he often seemed to think that even the most dangerous beasts were simply misunderstood, so Harry had been careful to take some of his suggestions of ‘just making friends with them’ with a grain of salt.

Some of Harry’s practice had been dueling against Professor Moody, but these practices were leaving him confused. At first, he’d learned very quickly against the experienced auror. His ability to duel had progressed at an exponential rate and he was ashamed to think of the times he’d come up against Draco Malfoy and how juvenile their confrontations had been. However, quickly he’d realized that he was becoming an even match for Professor Moody and despite how far he’d come, he knew that didn’t make sense. Professor Moody was a professional auror, a dark wizard hunter. More than that, he was a legend among aurors. Harry wanted to dismiss it as the natural decline of age, but when he measured that thought against Professor Dumbledore’s still mythic prowess, he wondered if that could be right.

He decided to test the auror and had limited himself to simply defending during one duel.

They’d faced each other across an empty classroom. Harry bowed and Professor Moody gave him a dirty look. The only reason he didn’t say anything was that he watched as Harry kept his eyes on his opponent the entire time, which made it barely acceptable.

“Ok, Potter, on three.” Moody snarled, “One, two…. Stupefy!”

Harry laughed and sidestepped the red bolt of energy. He’d quickly learned that when facing the crusty old auror, there were no rules.

“Reducto!” Moody spat, destroying a table when Harry dived out of the way.

“Diffindo!” Moody shouted. Harry sidestepped.

“Everbero!” He yelled, growing breathless. Harry didn’t move, seeing the bludgeoning hex was going to miss anyway.

Harry was shocked, realizing that not only did he not feel in danger, he didn’t even feel challenged.

“Confringo!” the one-eyed auror cast. Harry finally decided to quit his testing and cast in return.

“Protego. Expelliarmus. Petrificus totalus!” Harry blocked, disarmed, and bound his opponent.

“Erm. Thanks for the practice, Professor.” Harry said, beginning to walk off.

“Potter! Think you could release me?” Moody asked.

Harry released him, walking off more confused.

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One night after late night spell casting practice, Harry stumbled up to the common room with Hermione under the invisibility cloak. Both were exhausted. They wouldn’t even need to dump any magical energy into the wards, as they had emptied their reserves, practicing obsessively to try to get ready for the third task. No matter how well he had done in the first two tasks, Harry knew it wasn’t likely he’d be able to stay ahead of the older champions. You couldn’t make up years of study by one year of focused work. Well, he rephrased, perhaps Hermione could, but not him. He knew he was probably up to the standards of the average student in Cedric’s year, but the average student wouldn’t have been picked by the Goblet. He couldn’t have transfigured the dogs Cedric had used to solve the first task and while his idea had worked better, he knew a single good idea probably wasn’t be enough for the third task. It was supposed to be the capstone, forcing the champions to show all they knew. Despite all of Hermione’s efforts, he was afraid what he knew wasn’t going to be enough. Hermione hid it, no matter how difficult that was with the bond, but he suspected she also worried. Their worries drove them to train harder, study more, and try to force themselves beyond their limits.

They skipped their regular bonding practice and dragged themselves up their individual rooms. Harry had fallen into bed after pulling off his shoes and robes, falling asleep mostly dressed.

He woke in a dark hallway, looking into a grim looking sitting room. A chair was in the center of the room, back to him. Harry couldn’t see who sat in the chair, but there were two shapes on the floor beside the chair. One was a huge snake! It made the snake he’d spoken to before his first year look like a garden snake and looked sinister. The other was a man. Not much of a man, but a short, balding man with watery eyes and pointed nose. He was sobbing and retching on the rug near the chair.

“You are fortunate indeed, Wormtail. Your blunder could have cost us dearly, but the old man was too damaged by my hospitality to give them any information. I feared they would have stopped our plans as soon as his appearance told them something was amiss, but the old fool Dumbledore is overconfident. He continues to underestimate me and he will pay for his mistake.” A cold, high-pitched voice came from the occupant of the chair, someone Harry couldn’t see, but he feared.

“My lord! I am so pleased…and so very sorry.” Wormtail groveled.

“Nagini, I am afraid I have to disappoint you. You will not feed Wormtail to you… this time. Wormtail, perhaps a reminder of how I discourage failure. Crucio!”

Harry heard the man scream and scream. He tried to back away, but tripped. He seemed to be wrapped in something. He screamed, trying to get away.

“Harry!” someone said, shaking him, “Harry, mate, wake up! You’re having a nightmare!”

Harry woke to see a blurry Ron shaking him.

“Are you all right?” Neville asked, fearfully.

“Not sure.” Harry groaned. He felt his clothes were soaked in cold sweat. “My scar hurts.”

“Your scar hurts?” Ron asked, “You’re going to have to tell Dumbledore about that one.”

“You’re probably right. For now, though, I’m just going to get some more sleep.” Harry said.

He felt the suggestion of a sleepy mental question that felt like Hermione. He sent reassuring thoughts back.

Once he had changed into dry pajamas, he spent time meditating and reinforcing his occulomentic shields. This was a reminder that he didn’t dare neglect his practice.

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The next day he went to the Headmaster’s office after his classes. He was stopped by the Gargoyle, the first time that had happened in months. He’d grown used to being automatically admitted.

“Move, I have to speak to the Headmaster!” Harry said urgently. He would swear the gargoyle rolled his eyes at him.

“Fine. Lemon drop. Licorice whip. Cinnamon Snitch. Chocolate Bludger.” Harry said, rapidly growing inpatient, “Fizzing Whizbee. Every Flavor Beans? Chocolate Frog. Cockroach Cluster.”

He was interrupted by the grating sound of the gargoyle moving aside. It looked almost irritated at having to open.

“Cockroach cluster?” Harry asked, incredulous, “I was actually kidding with that one, that’s rather foul.”

He moved up the stone staircase, stopping before the door. He could hear voices on the other side, sounding like Professor Dumbledore, Professor Moody, and Minister Fudge.

“He still hasn’t given us any information of use, Albus.” Fudge said, “He’s in St. Mungos and they’re doing everything they can. I have the best aurors questioning him, but all he talks about are his wife, his son, and some unknown ‘Him’. It’s really been useless. I think the tournament finally unhinged him after all the stress with his family before he had to be rather delicate.”

“What about Bertha, Minister?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Ludo said she was perfectly capable of getting lost on her own. I don’t think anything of it.” Fudge replied, “We have no evidence of foul play.”

“You think Barty went insane spontaneously and Bertha Jorkins disappeared by coincidence, despite the fact they were both involved in the Ministry’s efforts to coordinate the Tri-Wizard tournament? That does not strike you as too coincidental?” the Headmaster asked in a voice of authority.

“Jorkins has a memory like a sieve, Ludo tells me.” Fudge stammered, “As for Barty Crouch, perhaps he was attacked. Have you considered that woman from France? Do you know what she is?”

“I am well aware of her heritage and trust her implicitly.” Dumbledore replied, “Perhaps we will make more progress if we look around the grounds once more, near where Mr. Potter stumbled across Mr. Crouch.”

“Speaking of Mr. Potter,” Professor Moody said, “Perhaps you should let him in.”

Professor Dumbledore opened the door before Harry could move away.

“Erm. I needed to talk to you Professor.” Harry mumbled, “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“Quite all right, my dear boy. It must be urgent to interrupt your preparations for the tournament. Unfortunately, we were about to leave to have a walk around the grounds. Perhaps you could wait here for my return?”

“Sure, Professor.” Harry replied, as the others moved past him.

As Harry heard the adults moving down the staircase, he took a moment to look around. Fawkes, the Headmaster’s phoenix, was on her perch, a glorious red/gold swan-sized bird, with intelligent eyes and a strong sense of magic. With his auramancy, Harry could better appreciate the waves of red, gold magic pouring off the bird like fire.

“Hello, Fawkes.” Harry offered, greeting his friend. The phoenix replied with an inclination of his head and a trill of phoenix song.

The patched and ragged Sorting Hat sat on a shelf, surrounded by more subtle, more complex, and more difficult to decipher magical auras. The Sword of Gryffindor, a magnificent silver sword with rubies inlaid into the hilt, hung in a dedicated case nearby. The magic around it was silvery with red highlights and looked as sharp as the sword itself. There was an odd greenish tinge along edge and point that reminded Harry of the basilisk and perhaps also of the magic of the killing curse, but beyond that he couldn’t place it. Next to the sword’s case, there was a black case, whose door had not been fully closed. A glimpse of pulsating silvery magic reflected from within, looking like sunlight reflecting off water or perhaps bright moonlight, given the color.

He edged closer and saw a rune-carved basin filled with a whitish-silvery liquid. The liquid constantly shifted, like water pushed by wind. He thought to touch it, but then thought better. He cast a few detection spells he’d learned for the third task and saw no hint of curses or other obvious danger. However, Moody had ingrained a certain amount of caution, so he reached out with his wand and poked at it. The liquid began moving very fast and then seemed to clear and brighten. When Harry looked in again, he saw a room where he would have expected to see the bottom of the basin. As he looked closer, his nose just touched the surface of the liquid and he felt himself pulled into the room. He fell, landing on a courtroom bench. Surprisingly, nobody seemed shocked at his sudden appearance in the classroom. He startled when he saw Dumbledore next to him.

“Headmaster! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize what I was doing, I didn’t mean…” Harry trailed off, realizing the Professor wasn’t paying any attention to him at all.

Harry looked around more, seeing Dementors and feeling the chill from their presence. Just then he was distracted by a prisoner being led in and seated. It was Karkaroff!

Harry proceeded to watch the Death Eater’s trial. He was shocked to learn of the Durmstrang Headmaster’s past and shocked to learn of Professor Snape’s association, as well. He saw Barty Crouch Jr.’s trial and saw Ludo Bagman as a young man. Eventually he looked over and saw Dumbledore beside him. Strangely, there were two Dumbledores. One of them, the one who had just appeared, took his hand.

“Come, my boy. Let us go.”

With a swirl, they left the courtroom and were again in the office, looking down on the basin.

“What is this, Professor? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…it’s just the door was open and light…” Harry stuttered and stammered, embarrassed by his prying.

“Curiosity is only natural, Harry. I only hesitate to think how curious you must be now, with Miss Granger’s intellectual curiosity and your talent for finding yourself in odd places over the years. I should have guessed where I would find you, had I realized I had left this door open.” Dumbledore offered.

“I saw what happened at the trial. Mr. Crouch’s son… what happened?”

“His son was associated with the Death Eaters and sentenced to Azkaban. His father was a strict man and very strongly for the light. He disowned his son before his son’s death in Azkaban. Unfortunately, the stress also exacerbated health problems for Mrs. Crouch and she died around the same time. Losing all his family was difficult, but the man immersed himself in his work at the ministry. However, the Minister speculates that stress plus the recent stresses of the Tri-Wizard tournament are what broke his mind. I think otherwise.” Dumbledore explained.

“Has he said anything else?” Harry asked.

“No and I doubt he is likely to.” Dumbledore continued, “Now what brought you to see me? You wanted to tell me something?”

“I had a dream last night.” Harry said, “I woke up and my scar was on fire.”

He related the nightmare he had had. The adult wizard listened carefully and asked a few questions.

“Well, you must be vigilant about your occulomency exercises, specifically before bed. I will speak to Professor Snape about more tutoring, but I think this is explained by your exhaustion and lack of meditation before bed. Pieces are coming together, but I have not been able to put them together. I have actually been talking to your friend, Mr. Ronald Weasley, to try to put together a pattern. He has a remarkable gift, if only I can continue to train it and overcome his natural… reticence to immerse himself.”

“In anything but Quidditch, Professor?” Harry said with a smirk.

“Watch yourself.” Professor Dumbledore said, “There is definitely more at work than we see.”

“Do you think Voldemort’s becoming stronger?” Harry asked.

“His first ascent to power was accompanied by disappearances. Now we have the disappearance of Ms Jorkins. We have the disappearance of a muggle, Frank Bryce. We have the disappearance and reappearance of Mr. Crouch, clearly having been affected by the Cruciatus curse.

“In Mr. Crouch’s trial, they were talking about Longbottoms. Are they related to Neville?” Harry asked softly.

“Have you ever asked Mr. Longbottom why he was raised by his grandmother?” Dumbledore replied.

“No, I never thought about it.” Harry answered, feeling guilt that he never thought to ask one of his best friends about his home life, “Did the Death Eaters kill them?”

“No, they were not killed. Death might have been a blessing.” Dumbledore said, sadly.

He explained about the torture by Cruciatus curse. He spoke of how prolonged exposure could break the mind of even a strong willed auror like Neville’s parents. With Mr. Crouch also affected, it was clear how dangerous this unforgiveable was.

“So you see that your family was not the only one torn apart by Voldemort. You and Neville have much in common. I think you would both benefit from a closer friendship. Mr. Longbottom is a typical Longbottom, with so much loyalty that he would be certain to be sorted into Hufflepuff if it were not for the hidden core of courage. Your houses were historically closely aligned on the side of the light.”

Harry nodded, deep in thought.

“You probably have more preparation to do?” Dumbledore asked by way of dismissal.

“Yes, sir. Thank you for the information.” Harry said, heading for the door and planning to catch up with Hermione to share what he had learned.

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Hermione was growing more and more nervous, driven by two concerns – upcoming end of the year tests and Harry’s final task. Despite her growing confidence and less neurotic approach to academics, influenced by Harry, the habits of a lifetime were never going to completely disappear. She was almost constantly in the library, either revising for upcoming exams or researching spells to use in the task. She still spent time with Harry, but much of it was revising together. Hermione found his new academic prowess to be very cute, so she took pleasure in studying with him in the common room, knowing if she looked up to watch him, she would often find him watching her study. She would grin, blush, and return to her studying. Her life was so much happier now that she’d found him. She sometimes worried that her love for him detracted from her academics, since she did find herself distracted studying near him and she spent hours researching for him, hours that could only come from her own study time. What she didn’t realize was how much her growing confidence was giving her the ability to trust her knowledge and push her intellect from the amazing font of recall she had always been known for to a combination of incredible knowledge and stunning creative synthesis of new ideas. Her professors were secretly amazed that Harry wasn’t the only one who had somehow become a better student through their relationship.

Ron had also grown throughout the year. He was receiving individual lessons from Dumbledore, although he didn’t tend to talk about them much. His confidence, too, had grown, seeing how Harry needed his help with strategy and Hermione actually treated him like an intellectual equal as they brainstormed for the tasks. He was still likely to skive off occasionally to play chess or fly, but with Harry being more focused, he’d lost his usual partner-in-crime and it wasn’t as fun, pushing him to actually devote himself somewhat to his studies.

Harry did worry that he had pulled them both away from their studies to help him too often. They were working on hexes in an unused classroom when his concern finally became too much.

“I’m fine, I can work on this alone. You both probably need to study and I’m keeping you from it.” Harry said, looking down guiltily.

“Don’t be absurd.” Hermione said shortly, “Besides, at least we’ll all ace our defense against the dark arts practical. We wouldn’t have learned half the spells we have this year if we weren’t helping you.”

“Don’t worry about it, mate!” Ron said, “You know if it wasn’t for this, I’d just be playing chess. At least this way, I’m learning something.” Ron proceeded to hit a fly with an impediment hex, stopping it completely.

After Harry’s worries, the exams themselves were somewhat anticlimactic. Despite putting on a good front for Harry, Hermione thought she’d go spare until she actually sat down with the tests and realized she was very much over prepared. She realized she wouldn’t have grasped that last year, in fact hadn’t grasped that. While she knew enough to know what she knew and what she didn’t know, her unrealistically high standards had always forced her to focus on the details where she knew she could have gone into a little more depth instead of the majority of the exam, where she knew she had done a very thorough job. Having Harry’s viewpoint available had helped. She still couldn’t help but obsess a little.

“Harry, do you think I should have referenced the Abyssinian hieroglyphs on the final question of the runes exam? I thought the Coptic was much more applicable, but I do see how the Abyssinian would have influenced the development. “

“Hermione, given that I barely know what you’re talking about, I think you’re probably fine.” Harry teased.

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The day of the final task seemed to crawl by for Harry. It hadn’t started well, with the morning Prophet article that accused Harry of being insane or perhaps dark.

“How could Skeeter know I sometimes have problems with my scar hurting and sometimes have nightmares?” Harry asked, confused. “It hardly ever happens now that I’m really getting good at the lessons with Snape, but one night I forgot to meditate, we’d been up so late practicing and I just fell asleep. I had a nightmare and woke with my scar burning. How could she know?”

“I don’t know, mate.” Ron said around a mouthful of food, “It’s not like any of the boys would say anything about your nightmares. We’re all pretty used to them by now.”

“Hermione, do you know any magical means of bugging?” Harry asked, true to character returning to his usual source of information, despite his own personal advances.

“Bugging?” Hermione said, her eyes glazing a bit.

Harry recognized the signs of hyperfocus Hermione showed when her mind went into overdrive. When he had half felt it in his mind, he’d thought it felt exactly like he would have guessed. He compared it to hyperspace on Star Wars. If normal thinking was like normal flying, then when Hermione’s mind went into her abnormally fast processing mode, he just imagined every thought in her head developing lines as her mind leapt forward.

“Bug. That witch. She can’t do that! It’s not allowed.” Hermione said, snippets of thoughts emerging from the torrent in her head, “I have to go to the library. I’ll catch up to you later.”

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After breakfast, Harry had been called into a small room off the great hall. He had been surprised to see Sirius, Remus, Molly Weasley, and Bill Weasley there waiting for him.

“Sirius!” Harry shouted, running to his Godfather. The two hugged.

Harry got pulled into a hug with Mrs. Weasley and received manly handshakes from Lupin and Bill.

“Professor Lupin.” Harry said properly. He could see the moment the man’s face fell, “I guess since you’re not my professor anymore, would it be ok to call you Uncle Remus?”

“I’d like that very much, Harry.” Remus said with a smile.

Walking around the grounds with the Marauders and the Weasley family helped. It had been such a relief that the Dursleys hadn’t been somehow brought to Hogwarts that Harry felt like his luck might be good, but he was terribly worried about the third task. Hermione and Ron had come up with a brilliant strategy, but like most of their ideas lately, it was very creative. Like the portkey for the second task, he knew if their strategy worked, it would be a winning strategy, but if it didn’t work, it would delay him, maybe enough to erase his lead and take away whatever buffer he might need to make up for years less magical knowledge compared to the other Champions. Harry found himself talking about tactics and plans with Sirius, Remus, and Bill. There was more magical knowledge amongst the three men than he could hope to capture. Between the two Marauders and a Gringott’s curse breaker, he knew they were experts, so he tried to pump them for information while they walked.

When they returned to the great hall for lunch, Ron had been surprised to see his mother and brother. Harry had noticed Mrs. Weasley giving Hermione a funny look and wondered why. Hermione looked away and he felt the hurt through their bond. He had to think hard to try to understand what was happening, but he finally understood.

“Mrs. Weasley, do you read the Prophet?” Harry asked.

“Mmm.., yes, Harry, I do.” Molly answered.

“Did you believe the article about me this morning?” Harry asked.

“Of course not, Harry! You’re like a son to me! Whatever gave you that idea?” Mrs. Weasley asked, shocked.

“I’ve just been down about it and wanted to make sure you didn’t believe it. That Rita Skeeter is terrible. I couldn’t believe what she wrote about Hermione. Made her sound like an awful person and as much as suggested she had used a love potion on me.”

Molly looked between Harry and Hermione, saw the Potter crest embroidered on Hermione’s robes, indicative of her status as Harry’s fiancée, saw the engagement ring, and her thought processes were open on her face as she realized they were both truly in love, mourned some grand fairy tale schemes she had held in her heart, and accepted what anyone with eyes could see in front of her.

“Harry, you’re right. I never realized how venomous that woman is! I think it’s time the Weasley family stops taking the Prophet. I never got a chance to congratulate you, Harry, Hermione! Of course, you could have sent an owl, but never mind that, now. We’ll simply have to throw you an engagement party this Summer. After all, we can’t expect Sirius to think of it, since he’s such a man.”

“Hey!” Sirius pouted, “Maybe you’re right, but he’ll be happy to have me when it comes time to plan the bachelor party.”

The three men laughed about that while Harry blushed.

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At the evening feast, the ceiling darkened from blue to purple. The Headmaster stood and said,

“In five minutes time, I will ask everyone to proceed to the Quidditch field to observe the third task of the Tri-Wizard tournament! Eternal fame and glory will be earned. Will the Champions follow Mr. Bagman at this time?”

Harry got up and began walking. Hermione gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered words of encouragement, echoed by the bond. Ron gripped his shoulder and gave him a look of admiration and encouragement. The Gryffindors all cheered and tried to touch his tournament robes as he followed Mr. Bagman and the other Champion out of the hall. Harry gently straightened his robes, feeling the enchantments he and Hermione had layered into the sturdy tournament robes. He was as ready as he would ever be, but he still felt it was hopeless. He had been lucky so far, but winning against Champions two years ahead of him seemed impossible.

“Feeling all right, Harry?” Bagman asked, seeming to read his mind, “Confident?”

Harry wondered why the Head of Games seemed so invested in his performance. It was really quite irritating.

“Fine, sir.” He said, hurrying away.

They walked onto the Quidditch pitch, radically changed with the hedge maze. Harry focused on centering himself, working through an occulomency exercise to calm himself. It worked and he felt his nervousness decrease. He felt the moment approaching, the moment he had been made for. Whether it was a Quidditch game or fighting Voldemort, he might be so shaky he felt like vomiting, but there always came a point when the action started that all the worries, all the nerves seemed to vanish and all he felt was the moment. He was startled to realize that in some small way he’d begun to live for those moments, no matter how scary the situations were.

Harry scanned the stands. He saw Hermione first. He knew he’d always be able to point to her, eyes open or closed, he knew right where she was at any given time. She smiled at him and he knew everything would work out. Ron gave him a reassuring nod. He looked around more and spotted Professor Snape, in his black robes and ludicrous hat with a red luminous star on his hat. Despite the hat, he still looked sinister. Harry remembered the trial and his exposure as a Death Eater. They caught each other’s eyes and he felt Snape’s mental probe hit his shields and stop. The ghost of a sinister smile quirked the Potion Master’s lip and he gave a miniscule nod before sweeping his black robes and turning away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament is about to begin! Mr. Potter, in the lead, will start first, followed by Mr. Diggory, in second, both representing Hogwarts!”

He paused for the cheers and applause to stop.

“In third place, Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang!”

Applause and cheers, more muted for this visitor, but strong due to his international fame.

“Last, but definitely not least, the beautiful Miss Delacour, of Beauxbatons.”

Loud cheers for the gorgeous part-Veela.

“On my whistle, then, Mr. Potter. Three…two…one…” Mr. Bagman’s whistle sounded and it was as if time stopped for Harry. His vision cleared and he felt perfect focus. His breathing evened and he settled on his legs, ready.

Hermione had come to their decided strategy while reading, as so often happened. The maze had its origins in the classic Greek. The legend of the Minotaur was well known. Only slightly well-known was the architect of the labyrinth, Daedulus. Daedulus was imprisoned for a crime against his own nephew, but eventually escaped by use of wings he’d fashioned out of wooden framework with feathers held on by wax. His son, Icarus, had perished after his wings disintegrated when he flew too close to the sun.

Harry whipped his wand from his robes and in move he’d made trademark since the first task, shouted,

“Accio, broom!”

His firebolt shot towards him from Hermione in a repeat of the first task. He grasped it and kicked into the air before it even came to rest. The crowd murmured in surprise, having expected him to run to the entrance of the maze. Instead, he blazed over it, already accelerating hard on the racing broom.

They’d debated how high he would fly. Hermione worried there might be wards protecting the top of the maze, because if you could fly above it or climb over it, that would defeat the purpose. Harry, with his knowledge of runes, had asked where the wards would be based. Hermione had admitted she didn’t think wards could be placed on top of the maze without obstructing the maze itself. She had never read of anti-flying wards and thought if they existed, they would have been used in the castle, but none were in place, as the occasional student found to his delight and eventual detention. So Hermione recommended staying low. Ron, on the other hand, had advocated for high. This would get Harry further from threats and give him a greater view. Harry had decided on low and his shoes almost dragged the hedge as he shot into the maze.

He dodged as the sharp claw of an acromantula almost caught him. He heard a rip as his robe tore. He suddenly dodged again as he almost flew into a cloud of glowing golden mist. The sense he got through his auramancy suggested touching that mist would have been dangerous, perhaps fatal while flying at such high speeds. He had time to register surprise on a sphinx’s face before flashing overhead and away. He saw the center of the maze and the Cup before the Firebolt had even had time to hit top speed. In a reckless move, he went into a quick dive, almost hitting the ground before grabbing the cup and angling upward. He hadn’t even heard the second whistle for Cedric to take the field and he’d won.

Or thought he’d won. He felt a sickening lurch as he felt a fishhook buried into his belly. The sensation quickly resolved into him being turned inside out and then spinning into a tiny tunnel. He recognized a Portkey, but had never touched one while flying, especially near top speeds. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever taken a Portkey while flying. He vaguely remembered warnings against it.

Suddenly, he was out of the Portkey sensation. His vision was filled with odd stone obstacles. He managed to dodge one, jink around a second, but with his disorientation and at his speed, he clipped a third and went bouncing along the ground, hitting stone blocks forcefully. He was about to lose consciousness when he heard a voice.

“Stupefy.” And all went black.

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A/N: I like cliff hangers better as a writer than I do as a reader. Sorry.

I like this one. I’ve got one or two more to finish off the Tri-Wizard tournament, then I’ll start onto the portion of Harry’s life covered by the next book. I’m planning to diverge more from the canon plot. As part of that, I’ll stop referencing canon quite as much and go my own way a bit. That may mean I make mistakes, but just consider them deviations. Feel free to point them out. At some point I may edit to change some things anyway. I’m still considering expanding the second task to have Harry jump in to try to save Gabi when he realizes she’s still underwater, but I haven’t decided. Thoughts?

I’m excited about the next chapter. The part that keeps sticking in my head is a Hermione-centric part where she jumps into the fray. Hope you like it as much as I’m enjoying writing it.

13. The Graveyard

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and I don’t profit from my writing.

Chapter 13: The Graveyard

Harry woke, tied to a stone monument. His head hurt and he felt dizzy. He looked out and saw Wormtail, wearing a cloak, but with the hood thrown back. He suspected Wormtail had stunned him as soon as he’d come to a stop after bouncing off every stone in the graveyard. On the ground nearby, a bundle lay wrapped in a blanket. Harry initially thought it might be a baby, but as soon as Harry looked at it, he felt searing pain erupt from his scar, like nothing he’d ever felt before. Perhaps one time he’d felt pain of this magnitude from his scar… when he’d faced Quirrell. He suddenly knew it was no baby and nothing he wanted unwrapped. As he looked around more, trying to get his bearings, he saw a giant snake slithering through the grass, circling him where he sagged, tied to the stone monument.

Wormtail pushed a giant stone cauldron, something the size of a bathtub, towards where the wrapped bundle lay squirming. Harry was disoriented, having slammed into headstones after a flying portkey and a stunner, but even he was alert enough to realize the cauldron must be very heavy and to wonder how the pathetic rat animagus didn’t think to levitate it. The bundle began squirming more restlessly the closer the cauldron got. Wormtail finally pulled out his wand to start a fire underneath, probably only because he didn’t know how matches work, Harry thought.

The liquid in the cauldron heated very fast. Steam and fiery sparks rose from the cauldron mouth. A high pitched voice, the voice from Harry’s nightmare, rose from the bundle,

“Hurry!”

The whole surface of the cauldron sparkled.

“It is ready, Master.” Wormtail groveled.

“Now…” said the nightmare voice.

Wormtail unwrapped the bundle and Harry had to use his occulomency to keep from screaming. The thing was the size of a human baby, but that’s where the last of the humanity ended. It was reddish black, like old blood and rot. It was ugly, slimy, and would have appeared blind except for the gleaming red snakelike eyes. The thing was scaly and hairless with a flat face, thin feeble arms and legs. Even Wormtail looked repulsed.

Harry had read some few Lovecraft stories and he had always doubted there could be anything evil enough to drive men to madness just by sight, but now he knew he’d been wrong. He thought if he hadn’t had a strong mind to begin with and if he hadn’t learned to shield it, he might have gone insane already. Even Wormtail looked repulsed. The evil rat lowered the thing into the cauldron, dropping it beneath the surface where it landed on the cauldron bottom with a thud. Harry hoped it drowned.

Harry’s scar burned, almost past enduring. Wormtail spoke. His voice shook, his eyes quivered and he looked on the edge of madness himself… if he wasn’t already beyond.

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!”

The ground cracked and a fine trickle of white dust rose and settled into the cauldron. The sparks grew heavier and the color changed to bone white.

Wormtail looked even more distressed, pulling a knife from his cloak. He said the incantation in sobs.

“Flesh… of the servant… w-wilingly given… you will… revive…your master.”

He swung the knife in his left hand, lopping off his right with one stroke. Harry was secretly surprised the rat had managed to do it so cleanly despite his shaking and his cowardice. It might have been magic, helping the pathetic man along. The hand splashed into the cauldron.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!”

Harry could do nothing, he was tied too tightly. Wormtail cut the inside of his elbow and captured a trickle of blood in a vial. When he poured it into the cauldron, the liquid changed to a blinding white color. Earlier the liquid had looked sickly, but with the last change it looked cleansed. The diamond like sparks were back, more thickly than ever.

Harry hoped the sick thing had drowned, but he knew it hadn’t. The liquid had seemed to clear of the taint on it for two reasons. Harry’s blood was pure, drawn from an innocent who served the light. Second and probably more important, the foul evil of the cauldron had condensed, had precipitated, and began to extend out of the cauldron. A tall, skeletally thin body of a man began to form.

“Robe me.” Said the nightmare voice.

Wormtail, moaning and sobbing, picked up black robes while still cradling his mutilated arm. He wrapped them one-armed around his Master’s form. The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, his eyes locked with Harry’s. Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for years. Whiter than a skull, with glowing scarlet eyes, and a snakelike nose.

Lord Voldemort had returned.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

At the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, the stands had erupted in murmurs as Harry had summoned his broom. Since he had done the same thing in the first round, Hermione had a hard time understanding why anyone would be surprised he did it again. In fact, this thought had almost made her retract her initial suggestion of what she called the Daedulus-strategy, since she felt it likely the tournament designers may have analyzed the Champions’ performance on earlier tasks and tried to counter the strengths. Harry, the youngest Seeker in a hundred years, was a legendary natural flyer. Viktor was also a legendary flyer. Hermione had thought those facts alone might cause the designers to counter this strategy, but two things caused her to continue to recommend it. First, she knew how hidebound and slow to innovate the wizarding world was. She suspected the tasks were designed well in advance. Given that the tasks were always so similar, she very much doubted they would change them in the middle. Secondly, summoning his broom would take Harry a minute, two minutes at most. Even if it didn’t work, that was a small delay to risk in exchange for possibly circumventing the majority of the unknown obstacles in the maze.

So they had planned on the broom as plan A. Hermione had still endlessly researched the likely obstacles and they’d trained against all of them. She brought the invisibility cloak and if Harry had to enter the maze on foot, he would summon it to help him. They were prepared, because she wasn’t content to stop with plan A, not when her Harry was at risk. She would do anything to protect him. That was true since the first year, when she had lied to Professor McGonagall and was the central truth of her life now.

Hermione watched as he flawlessly summoned the broom, leaped on, and was flying before most of the observers had a chance to realize what was happening. It looked like he was going to crash into the hedge, but he’d skirted the top with his customary natural flying, accelerating so quickly she knew he might have set records had he been timed. He zigged around something she hadn’t seen and zagged around a glowing cloud, before going into a dive. She expected him to come back into view immediately after, climbing above the maze and circling back to her. When he didn’t, she grew concerned, especially when she felt panic over the bond. Panic, followed by focused flying, followed by pain and blackness.

“Harry!” Hermione screamed, leaping to her feet.

Many eyes turned to her, given her shout. Many of those then looked to Fudge, Bagman, or Dumbledore, to make sense of what happened.

Dumbledore was walking quickly towards her. She thought about walking towards him, but decided she didn’t have time. She took a deep breath and immersed herself in a deep occulomentic trance. Her mind leaped forward, analyzing and discarding options.

Phoenix. Phoenix couldn’t find Harry, discard. Dumbledore. One look convinced her that the Headmaster was looking to her for information. He couldn’t find Harry, discard. Portkey. She didn’t know how to set a Portkey for an unknown location, discard. Apparation. She wasn’t licensed to apparate. She couldn’t apparate to an unknown location. You couldn’t apparate from Hogwarts….

She was tired of saying can’t. She’d researched apparition when she and Harry had studied magical means of transportation while training to make the Portkey. She would never have attempted it without meticulous practice with short jumps first in the Ministry approved manner if she was in any normal situation.

This was not a normal situation. Harry was in danger. He might be dying. She couldn’t feel him over the bond and she had definitely felt pain before the blackness. She knew she could tell where he was at any given time. She didn’t know if she could jump there, but she wasn’t willing to take no for an answer.

Deeper in her trance, she dug deep into her core and let her magic flare around her. Normally, Hermione was the epitome of discipline. She’d studied Harry’s aura and how it was bigger and stronger than hers, but she’d been slightly proud of the fact that hers was more ordered, more disciplined. After a year of training, her core was almost as powerful as his, but both were extremely tightly controlled and she doubted anyone other than the Headmaster, who was teaching the auramancy and carefully monitoring the auras and their cores, had realized what progress they’d made. She realized. She had calculated and graphed it. She never thought about it, but in later years, the Granger modification of the standard magical power indices would become the accepted arithmetic calculations.

She knew she might have enough power to blow through the wards, out here on the edge. She would have never tried from the castle, but on the edge, it might just be possible.

The old Hermione wouldn’t have tried. She would have gone to the Headmaster and appeal to his authority, but she was almost as much Harry as Harry was, now, with all of Hermione’s protective instinct towards him. There was no way in hell she was waiting.

Now many eyes turned towards her. The few wizards who were skilled enough to know what they were feeling realized something inconceivable. This little 15 year old muggle-born witch was manifesting mage-level power, something only Professor Dumbledore would be expected to show amongst this group. Dumbledore started walking very fast, almost running.

Hermione felt the wards as she gathered her will. Destination – she had known where Harry was when he became unconscious. She couldn’t find it on a map, but always knew in her soul where he was. Determination – there were few beings more determined than Hermione looking to protect her soul mate. Deliberation – perhaps her one weakness at the moment. She felt the wards begin to resist her, but then felt something odd. Something almost human seemed to recognize her, feeling bonded to her much as Harry was bonded to her, but not nearly so tightly. She recognized Hogwarts. The castle was not sentient, but it was powerfully magical and near-sentient. The wards recognized Hermione through the power she had poured into the castle’s defenses and the power Harry had contributed. It recognized Harry’s magical signature intertwined with hers both through his time at the school and also as the echo of the Headgirl and Headboy who were his parents, powerfully magic students who had devoted seven years of their lives to the school. Years of Potters had attended Hogwarts and their magical signature was well-known. The wards recognized her and they recognized her need. She was leaving, not entering. The castle made an exception.

Hermione felt the wards relax as she disappeared. She was glad not to have to use all the energy she had planned, since she knew the effort, even if successful, would have drained her and left her almost helpless at the other end. She was able to pull her core in, using only a tiny fraction of the power she had planned. In her hurry, her effort was not perfectly efficient and she disappeared with a crack like an explosion. Everyone within twenty feet of her was knocked down.

Hermione popped into place in a graveyard. She appeared with a good size pop, but nobody seemed to notice. She pulled the invisibility cloak from her bag and quickly wrapped it around herself. She whispered “silencio” and silenced her shoes. Then she quickly moved away from where she had apparated into the graveyard, staying behind gravestones as much as possible. She moved, circling to where she would be able to see Harry and assess the situation. She could feel him beginning to wake, so she knew he was alive.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Harry watched as Voldemort examined his new body. He stretched out long pale fingers, flexed them, and appeared satisfied. He looked at Harry and then away.

“Come here, Wormtail. Give me your arm.” Voldemort hissed in his high pitched nightmare voice.

“Oh, thank you Master.” Wormtail groveled, extending his stump.

“No.” Voldemort said coldly, “Your other arm, fool.”

Wormtail stretched forward his other arm. The sleeve fell back and the Dark Mark was visible.

“How many will be brave enough to respond to my summons?” Voldemort mused.

Then he touched his finger to the mark, which turned jet black. Harry’s scar burned.

Voldemort turned back to Harry.

“Do you know where you are? You stand on the remains of my father. A Muggle and a fool, much like your mother. But they had their uses. Your mother saved you. My father died by my hand and his bones helped in my return.”

Harry bit his tongue to keep from shouting that his mother was nothing like Voldemort’s family. He strengthened his shields and remained alert, hoping for a chance to save himself.

“My father’s family lived in that house, on that hill. That’s where my mother, a witch, saw him. It’s where she made him love her. He didn’t like magic and when she relaxed her control, hoping he would still love her, he left her. She killed herself and I grew up in an orphanage. You understand being an orphan, don’t you Harry?

Enough family history, though. Here come my real family.”

Dark robed figures in masks had apparated into every dark shadowed crevice, between trees, in the lee of tombstones. They formed a rough circle before the first fell to his knees and crawled to his master, kissing the hems of his robes.

Voldemort told of his return. Described how he’d been banished from his body and how he had been the architect of his return. Harry listened and was disgusted. Of course, he’d been there for much of it.

Harry listened as Voldemort described his faithful servant still at Hogwarts. His first thought… Snape, twisted in his mind like a poisoned dagger, but he quickly questioned that. He didn’t think anyone could be that good an actor. If it was Snape, though, he wouldn’t rest until the man was dead.

Hermione also listened, noting the same facts as Harry. She had kept her occulomency shields as strong as she ever had, blocking even her bond with Harry, unsure how much Voldemort could sense. Carefully, slowly, gently, she sent a trace thought along the bond, letting Harry know she was there and she was ready.

Harry straightened. Fear filled him at the thought she was also at risk, but he knew that even if she was safe at Hogwarts, with the extent of their bond, his death could mean hers no matter where she was. Having her there gave him a chance and he would use it.

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair… they learned the identities of many of the Death Eaters.

They learned the fate of Bertha Jorkins.

Voldemort turned to Harry.

“Crucio!”

Harry writhed in pain, pulling against his bindings. He could focus on nothing.

Hermione writhed in shared pain. Physical pain and mental pain, seeing her loved one being tortured. She wondered in that moment which had driven the Longbottoms crazy. Being tortured or seeing the one they loved tortured in front of them?

Voldemort ended the spell.

“Give him his wand and release him. You do know how to duel, don’t you Harry?”

“Bow”

Harry thought of the dueling club. He remembered when his biggest worry was dueling Malfoy. He knew if he survived this, he would dedicate himself to being ready for the inevitable confrontation. He would be ready.

Voldemort waved his bone white wand, forcing Harry to bow.

“Crucio!” Voldemort cried, again sending excruciating pain throughout Harry’s body, before ending it.

“That hurt, didn’t it, Harry? You don’t want me to do that again, do you? Well? Answer me!”

“Imperio!” Voldemort called.

Harry felt a wash of peace and contentment come over him. Of course he wanted to do anything Lord Voldemort asked of him. Immediately, though, an insistent voice told him he didn’t want that. His mother’s voice. Then Hermione’s voice. Finally, his own shields protected him from the full force.

“No.” Harry said.

“No?” Voldemort replied.

Harry heard a murmur go through the gathered Death Eaters. A 14 year old boy had just defied the Dark Lord.

“Obedience is a virtue, Harry. A virtue I’ll teach you before you die. Maybe a little pain will help with the lesson.”

“Crucio”

With the reflexes of a born seeker, Harry rolled behind the headstone of Tom Riddle.

“We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry.” Voldemort said, in his high pitched voice, “You can not hide from me. Does this mean you are done with our duel? Do you want to end it? I’ll make it quick. It might even be painless. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never died.”

Harry doubted he could beat him. He didn’t know, but he doubted it. The one thing that he knew was he was not going to die crouched behind a tombstone. He would die on his feet, standing tall, like his father did. He took a deep breath, preparing, then stood, his wand stabbing towards Voldemort. Voldemort was ready, too, his wand pointed at Harry.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Expelliarmus!”

A red burst of light from Harry’s wand met the sickly green burst from Voldemort’s. The two connected and a golden thread of energy formed between the two wands.

The Death Eaters were stunned, as was Voldemort. They circled the two, some drawing wands as if prepared to enter the battle.

Additional threads of golden energy burst from the thread connecting the two and formed a cage, with Harry and Voldemort inside. Harry heard a sound he’d heard before, a sound that strengthened him; phoenix song. He heard Hermione’s voice in his head.

“Hold on, Harry! Don’t let go. I’ve got a plan!”

Harry resolved to hold on. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he felt he had a chance now. No sooner than he resolved to hold on than it got much more difficult. His wand started vibrating as pulses of energy traveled back and forth. He found if he concentrated, he could force them towards Voldemort’s wand.

They struggled, each willing the energy towards the other. The power pulsed back and forth. Harry had to face the power and will of an immortal Dark Lord, a wizard who knew esoteric magics Harry might never comprehend. He had a strong will and he wouldn’t quit, though, and it was enough. He forced the energy back towards Voldemort.

When the first pulse hit Voldemort’s wand, a shadowy shape came forward, squeezing from the wand. Harry recognized it was the shadow of a person, an old man Harry did not recognize.

“So he was a real wizard? Hold on, boy. Fight him!”

A second shadow emerged, a woman unknown to Harry.

“Harry Potter? You’ve got to fight him.”

The next form began to leave the wand and Harry had to focus to hold his attention on the struggle. He recognized his mother before she was all the way out.

“Hold on, Harry. Hold on for your father. He’ll be here.”

Harry focused all his power on the struggle. A man came from the wand, messy black hair the mirror of Harry’s.

“That’s it son. We’re here to help you. When we say so, break the connection. We’ll give you time to get away. Get to the Portkey. It will take you back.”

Harry could feel Hermione through the bond. She heard his father’s plan. They were ready.

The ghosts gathered around Voldemort.

“Now, Harry!”

Harry jerked his wand skyward, breaking the connection. The cage shattered.

Hermione flew towards him on his firebolt, snagging him by the arm as she came in at insane speed. He could have torn her off the broom, would have if she flew like she’d flown before. They could have dislocated their arms. It worked perfectly. He swung his leg over and was behind his invisible bond mate.

Curses flew towards them, poorly aimed because of their speed. They stayed low, weaving between the larger headstones. Hermione dipped the broom and Harry made a grab as if for the snitch, catching the Cup once more by the handle. They felt the tug of the Portkey and were gone.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: I like this chapter. Let me know what you think. I don’t like the part coming up, because it’s all wrap up that’s already written in canon. I might be awhile with it, although I have a good start.

14. The Aftermath

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t make money off my writing.

Chapter 14: Aftermath

They reappeared on the edge of the maze, again moving fast. Luckily, the Quidditch pitch was flat with soft grass. The two of them tumbled to a stop, the Cup going flying.

“He’s back. Voldemort’s back!” Harry cried, trying to get the word out in case they were followed.

He sat there on the grass with Hermione wrapped around him.

Professor Dumbledore walked up to them and knelt down.

“What is this? What did you say, Harry?” he asked.

“Voldemort is back. Wormtail cast a ritual that gave him a new body. He’s back.” Harry said.

The crowd was going crazy, having heard these words. Minister Fudge was walking towards them.

“That’s ridiculous! You-know-who is dead, Harry! You know that better than anyone.” Fudge shouted.

A riot was slowly developing and Dumbledore was pulled away to help deal with the crowd. Professor Moody moved in, helping Harry to stand.

“Come this way, Harry. Hermione. We’ll get you both someplace safe.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look and a mental conversation. Hermione looked questioning and Harry gave her a brief nod.

They followed Moody as he half led them, half dragged them back to the castle. They went directly to the office of the DADA Professor. Harry briefly realized they had come full circle since they’d said goodbye to Uncle Remus in this same office. As much as that had hurt, Harry realized it was a brighter time in many ways.

“So what happened out there, tonight?” Moody asked.

“Voldemort’s come back.” Harry said, numbly.

“The Dark Lord has returned?” Moody asked. Harry and Hermione again exchanged a look.

“Yes, he performed a ritual and has his body back.” Harry replied. “He summoned his Death Eaters and they came.”

“They did, did they? How did he treat them? Did he forgive them?” Moody asked.

“He was mad because they had abandoned him so long, but I think he needs them. He always seems to need faithful servants, doesn’t he?” Hermione said.

“That he does.” Moody replied, “Wait, what?”

“Stupefy!” Harry and Hermione called together, hitting Moody with two bursts of red light. The auror went down in a heap.

“Incarcerous.” Hermione cast.

“Petrificus totalus” Harry said, putting Moody in a body-bind.

Looking at the foe glass on the table, the two students could see Professors approaching. Harry kept his wand trained on Moody while Hermione unbarred and opened the door.

“What are you doing?” Snape hissed, looking at the two students with wands trained on the Professor.

“Waiting for you, Professor?” Hermione asked, with a small grin on her face that did not reach her eyes, “I don’t know who this is, but it is not Professor Moody.”

“We know.” Headmaster said, walking to the body and flipping it over. The sense of power radiating off him gave truth to the fact that he was the only wizard Voldemort ever feared. He was an archmage in all his revealed power and it was a far different aspect than the jovial grandfather he normally portrayed.

“Come along, you two. I’ll take you to the hospital wing.” Professor McGonagall said, sounding more motherly than she ever had before.

“No.” Dumbledore said, “They need to stay. They need to understand who did this, because they need to be prepared to fight it.”

“Who is this if it’s not Moody?” Harry asked.

“It’s not Moody, you’ve never met the real Moody.” Dumbledore answered.

“To be honest, I already decided that was likely, which is what first made us cautious when he pulled us away from everyone else. There’s no way an experienced auror should lose practice duels against a school boy. My question is, who is he?” Harry said.

“The duration of polyjuice is short.” Snape explained. “Watch, Mr. Potter.”

While they waited, Dumbledore unlocked the multiple compartments of Professor Moody’s trunk, rescuing the real Moody. Winky was fetched. The fake Moody reverted to Barty Crouch Jr. and was administered veritaserum, explaining his part in the events.

After aurors took Barty Crouch Jr. away, Harry and Hermione met with Sirius Black and Professor Dumbledore in the Headmaster’s office. The Headmaster asked Minister Fudge to join them when he was available.

“This has been an eventful year.” Dumbledore said.

“Are you kidding?” Harry said, stunned, “That’s a bit of an understatement. Voldemort is back!”

“Are you still insisting on that ridiculous story, boy?” Minister Fudge said, as he entered the office.

“Pardon me?” Harry asked, incredulous, “It’s no story, it’s what happened. Both Hermione and I witnessed it.”

“You-know-who died when you were a baby, Mr. Potter.” Fudge insisted.

“Professor, perhaps you can take my memory of tonight and we can watch what I saw?” Harry offered.

“That might be very useful, Harry. Perhaps if Miss Granger is willing, she can contribute hers as well, so we can see her role?” Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling.

“Of course, Headmaster.” Hermione said, mock meekly, performing for the minister’s benefit.

The four went into the memories, watching the whole sequence of events. Harry got to see Hermione’s apparition to the rescue, while she got to see the small part she had missed. Both adults were impressed with their coordination and calm action in the face of danger.

“Perhaps I was hasty.” Minister Fudge said, as they left the pensieve, “Could I have copies of those memories? I’ll need to review them with my senior staff. I’m declaring Voldemort’s return a state secret. We can’t let that out.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little late, after I shouted it in the Quidditch pitch?” Harry said, trying to keep the sneer out of his voice.

“We have ways of controlling information, Mr. Potter. Your initial reaction will be discounted.” Fudge said pompously, “Normally we would have an award ceremony, but under the circumstances... here are your winnings, boy.”

Harry just shook his head, amazed at the man’s idiocy. Hermione elbowed him, sending a quick message that she had a plan.

Minister Fudge left, returning to the ministry to coordinate their response.

“You two did wonderfully.” Professor Dumbledore said, “This year has given me hope for our victory. I was truly concerned prior to the end of last year, but I think things are turning around and I attribute it all to you both. Your strengths are remarkably complementary. Because of these changes, I have decided I also must change. I have always been somewhat enamored of my own council and a secret-keeper by nature, but I think that must change. You see, Harry, there was a prophecy concerning you.”

Dumbledore related the prophecy. The two were stunned.

“I will also be telling Ronald as part of our work together. He is making progress and he may eventually contribute significantly to the overall strategy of the Order of the Phoenix. As for your bond, I think that may be the answer to a question Harry and I already discussed. The power the Dark Lord knows not… I always thought the answer is love and I still believe that. I think your mother’s love gave you the protection that caused the killing curse to rebound, disembodying Voldemort. I think your love for one another may give you the ability to grow to your full potential and defeat Voldemort.

We saw many important things in your memories. Voldemort used your own blood to regenerate himself. We saw him touch you, which he could not before, which would suggest this was a catastrophic event, but I suspect he may find there is a deeper significance to his choice than he now knows. While he was always a good student, he was lazy, looking to the dark arts for shortcuts to power and discounting old and powerful magics that he could not understand.

When your wands linked? Did you wonder what happened? Prior incantatem. When Mr. Ollivander sold you your wand, the twin to Voldemort’s, he told me right away. Here we saw the significance of that event. It is something to think about. I will consult Mr. Ollivander this Summer regarding possible ramifications and contingencies.

Another change, is that I cannot in good conscience send you back to the Dursleys. Nor do I think that if I tried, you would cooperate, nor would Sirius or Hermione let me get away with it. I have relied on those wards for much too long. You will go where you and your Godfather wish this Summer. I have spoken to him and made arrangements for continued education. He has arranged for tutors over the Summer to continue your education and set a foundation for advanced studies we hope to begin next school year. I plan to have more information on that at a later date.”

Harry struggled to cope with all he’d faced that night and all he’d learned in Dumbledore’s office.

“If you knew this all along… if you knew what I went through at the Dursleys…” he said haltingly, tears threatening, but he’d long developed defenses against tears, he’d had too many reasons to cry and been beaten too often for letting himself. Fawkes left his perch, flying to Harry’s knee. His phoenix song gave strength and peace.

“If I had known what you went through at the Dursleys, I never would have left you there.” Dumbledore said, sadly. There was no twinkle in his eye.

“You must have known!” Harry shouted, “My Hogwarts letter was address to the ‘Cupboard under the Stairs’!”

“Magically addressed.” Dumbledore said softly, “When hundreds of letters arrived, did you think I had addressed them all? I should have known. I have no excuse for not knowing. There is no reason I did not hand address and hand deliver your letter, but I did not. I have taken on too many responsibilities and let too many of my duties run automatically in the background. I did not know.”

Harry seethed, but his growing maturity forced him to let it go. There was nothing to be gained by taking his frustration out on the Headmaster. He took deep cleansing breaths and focused on his occulomency exercises until he regained his calm. Hermione watched him, interlacing her fingers with his and her presence did more to settle him than anything he could do for himself. He looked in her gold flecked brown eyes and tried to convey his thanks with a look, sending his emotion through the bond easily.

“I’m not the young boy I once was, Headmaster. I’ll never be so completely trusting and accepting as I was then. I can’t quite accept what it must be like to be you, missing major details of my life while you manipulated me for your own purposes, but I do understand you held no malice. I forgive you, but I won’t be manipulated again. I understand that with your age, your stature, and your knowledge, I’m not your equal and so I don’t ask to be a partner. However, the prophecy says that only I can defeat Voldemort, so I insist on being an active, informed participant.”

“I agree.” Dumbledore said gravely. “I will tell you everything that is within my ability to tell, withholding only those secrets I am obligated to keep. We will be spending significant time together to achieve that, but I see now that time will be well spent. You are becoming a great man, Harry Potter. Look at how Fawkes treats you. I feel that if I were gone, he might well go to you as the next leader of the light. My job in this war will be to keep developing you into that leader. Now, it has been a long night. Let us plan to reconvene tomorrow afternoon and we will discuss further plans for next year. For now, I will take you to the hospital wing for Madame Pomfrey to evaluate both of you. After a good night’s rest, we can talk more.”

Madame Pomfrey fussed over Harry, evaluating where he had struck many hard objects in the crash in the graveyard. Both Harry and Hermione had nearly exhausted their magical cores: Harry with continuous casting in the graveyard and Hermione through her impossible apparition through wards to an unknown location, even if the wards had cooperated. Both were put to sleep in neighboring beds and seconds later were fast asleep.

The next morning, Harry awoke to loud whispers. He could hear Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Sirius, and eventually Professor McGonagall. Waking, he and Hermione joined them, to learn that Minister Fudge had questioned Barty Crouch Jr. and let his personal dementor guard give him the kiss. While Professor McGonagall was telling this story, Hermione seemed to become distracted. She looked out the window, very unlike her normally focused self. She shocked everyone when she waved her wand and quietly said, “Stupefy.” Walking to the window, she enlarged and opened a screw top jar with holes in the lid, sweeping something inside.

“What did you find?” Professor McGonagall said, exasperated by the odd behavior.

“A rare beetle.” Hermione replied, one corner of her mouth quirked upward in amusement.

The group all ate breakfast. After breakfast, Harry met with the Weasley twins, learning how much money they’d won betting on him to win the Triwizard tournament. In the end, he added his winnings and encouraged them to pursue their dream of starting a joke shop.

“I have a feeling we’re all going to need some laughs, mates.” Harry said seriously.

“We can’t thank you enough for this!” Fred said. “Combined with the money we earned betting on you, this should be enough to give our business a great start!”

“You’ll be a silent partner. You can have input into our business.” George continued.

“As well as 33% of the profit!” Fred finished. “We’ll only need a few endorsements, here and there.”

Harry talked them down, but they wouldn’t accept the money unless he agreed to take 25% of the profit, considering he wasn’t going to be putting in the majority of the work.

Meanwhile, Hermione was talking to Sirius, learning his plans for the Summer. She began drawing up a rough schedule to formalize what he had arranged thus far. Eventually she sent an owl to her parents to give them an idea of what she’d be doing and where she’d be spending a good amount of her time. Sirius had come up with ideas for how to combine their preexisting plans with a vacation and she had an idea that her parents might enjoy the chance to spend the Summer with Harry and his Godfather.

After lunch, Harry, Hermione, Sirius, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Snape met with the Headmaster. Snape sneered at Sirius and Sirius bristled back, but even their old hatred was subdued.

“I have brought you all together to discuss our path forward.” Dumbledore began, “You are all skilled occulomens, so I was able to share the prophecy with you, so you all know of Harry’s required role in the defeat of Voldemort. Voldemort is the greatest dark wizard of recent history. Even Grindelwald was not as dangerous as an individual duelist, although as a shaper of history he might have exceeded Voldemort. I have tried to protect Harry’s childhood, but this year I feel he has proved he is growing out of that childhood. Given Voldemort’s physical return and capture of Harry, I think the best way to protect and prepare him is to begin to teach him what he needs to know to fulfill his requirement. I have spoken to you each previously. Here Is my plan.

“Professor McGonagall, you have expressed interest in taking Miss Granger as an apprentice in transfiguration. This will be the first time in two centuries any of the Hogwart’s students have pursued a simultaneous mastery as they completed their primary education, but if there is any student I have faith in doing so, it is Miss Granger.”

Professor McGonagall smiled at her informal protégé.

“Miss Granger…Hermione… would you be interested in becoming my apprentice and simultaneously working on your master of transfiguration?”

Hermione was bouncing up and down in excitement, her bushy brown hair bobbing around her.

“Very much so!” Hermione said excitedly.

The two clasped hands, agreeing to the new relationship.

“I’ll send you the syllabus I have in mind, Miss Granger.” McGonagall smiled.

“Harry, I would like to take you as my apprentice. You would be my first apprentice since Minerva.” Dumbledore said, looking at his student, “When I taught, I taught transfiguration, but I also have a mastery of defense, am one of the few remaining alchemists, am a master legilimens and master occulomens. I plan on our syllabus leading you to a mastery in defense, although I hope not to restrict our lessons to that. Will you be my apprentice?”

Harry nodded, grasping the Headmaster’s hand. He felt their damaged relationship begin to mend as his longtime mentor, the man who had been like a grandfather to the orphan, made him his acknowledged student.

“I have asked Professor Flitwick to assist both of us train both of you as master duelists. He will be using his contacts to recruit guest lecturers for extensive practical lessons.”

Professor Flitwick gave a very toothy smile, frightening from the half-goblin.

“Professor Snape will continue to teach advanced occulomency. He will work with Professor Flitwick in the dueling curriculum as he is a notable duelist with a unique style.”

Snape inclined his head minutely.

“Sirius has agreed to help start your curriculum with an intensive Summer program during your vacation.” Dumbledore concluded.

“Don’t worry, pup.” Sirius grinned, “It’s me, after all. It won’t all be work.”

The meeting soon broke up. Harry and Hermione walked together towards the Gryffindor common room. She snuggled into his side and he wrapped an arm around her. She grinned up at him, still high on her new opportunity for learning and education. Harry, too, felt new hope for the future. Training directly with Professor Dumbledore, the hero who had defeated Grindlewald might give him the knowledge he needed to defeat Voldemort. At least, he hoped it was possible.

As they entered the common room, they saw Ron playing chess with Seamus. He quickly finished the game and came over to them.

“Well?” Ron asked, “What happened.”

“We’re going to spend the Summer taking special lessons and then we’ll apprentice next year on top of our normal courses. Me to Professor McGonagall, Harry to Professor Dumbledore.” Hermione related to their redheaded friend.

“Blimey, to Dumbledore himself?!” Ron exclaimed, “Percy had hoped to apprentice to him, once, but he said Dumbledore hasn’t taken apprentices in close to a century!”

“Percy?” Harry asked.

“Well, it wouldn’t have worked out, but you can see why Percy would have been interested.” Ron continued, “My mom is proud of me just for receiving lessons on strategy from him. Being apprenticed to him would make you famous! Well, if it weren’t you. I guess you can’t get much more famous.”

Hermione just shook her head. Ron never changed.

The last few days of term passed. Harry and Hermione recovered, their magical cores regenerating from their exhaustion. They spent more hours practicing with their magical bond. Hermione told Harry all about her apparition to him the night of the third task and they spent hours studying the basic apparition manuals the upperclassmen would use to prepare for their apparition tests. Hermione spent hours with arithmantic formulae to try to quantify why she had been able to apparate through the Hogwarts wards, but was completely unable. Everything still insisted it should have been impossible.

The day soon came and they rode the Express away from Hogwarts. Harry had packed ahead of time to please Hermione, but Ron, as usual, was still grabbing things as Harry tried to drag him to the station. They were luckily able to get a good compartment.

“What a year.” Harry said.

“Not that unusual for you.” Hermione said with a smirk, “I count myself lucky I wasn’t petrified and didn’t see a single troll all year.”

The door handle started to turn and they could all see Draco outside through the window in the door.

“Colloportus.” Harry said with a wave of his wand.

Draco gave him a dirty look, sneered, and they could faintly hear him say, “Alohomora”, but the door remained locked. “Alohomora! Alohomora!”

Hermione laughed. “Silencio.” She cast, silencing the door.

The rest of the ride was perfectly calm.

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A/N: So this is the last of the fourth year. I’m going to try to proceed in a slightly different direction in further chapters. I’m going to try to post less from the original books and more of my story.

Some have complained that I tend to write in a summary style. There are a lot of reasons. One, I tend to summarize areas I expect everyone to already know. I won’t rewrite all of canon just to say, yes it happened here, too. Second, I’m not a professional writer and I’m impatient. I’m trying to work on it and provide more detail. Finally, I’m very busy in my personal and professional life, so multiple rewrites to force myself to fix my flaws and generate more details are difficult.

I hope some readers are enjoying the story. I will start to get to the chapters that show why I named this story “The Duelist”. You probably have an idea from the discussion about their further education. Hopefully, I can make it everything I’ve thought in my head.

I welcome and ask for reviews. Flames are less welcome. Thanks!

15. Summer Training Begins

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t profit from my writing.

I don’t own Hermione, either, but if she wants to send me her floo number, she knows where to find me.

Chapter 15: Summer Training Begins

At the station, Sirius had found the Grangers and the Weasleys. Remus had joined them. They were all standing waiting for their respective charges.

Harry had to look around nervously for the Dursleys. He knew they wouldn’t be there, but felt relief when he didn’t see them. Hermione felt him finally relax completely. She squeezed his hand, then released it to run to her parents.

“Daddy!” she said, hugging her father, who whipped her around in a circle.

“Hey, pup.” Sirius said, his eyes mischievous, “You won’t think I don’t love you if I don’t do that, will you?”

“Nah,” Harry said, “You’re a bit old for that. Wouldn’t want you to throw your back out.”

Sirius spluttered for a moment, before he realized Harry was teasing him. Remus chuckled at the interplay. Having Harry around was going to be good for Sirius.

Harry turned to Hermione’s father once Hermione had broken their hug.

“Mr. Granger.” He said formally, holding out his hand.

“Harry.” Mr. Granger said, shaking, “I thought I told you to call me Oberon?”

“Yes, sir. Oberon it is.” Harry said, grinning. He held his hand out to Hermione’s mom. She ignored it and pulled him into a hug, threatening to crack his ribs. Harry could tell where Hermione had learned how to hug.

“No handshaking with me, mister! You’re family, Harry.” Jane Granger said.

Harry and Hermione both said goodbye to Ron and the Weasleys as they separated at the station. The Grangers, Harry, and his uncles moved to a couple of waiting cars. Harry recognized the Grangers’ luxury sedan from their trip to the golf course, but he was surprised to find Sirius pulling out keys for the other conservative luxury sedan. He gave his uncle a curious look.

“Did you expect me to drive the motorcycle?” Sirius asked with a smirk, “While I wouldn’t mind, Remus insisted he wouldn’t ride in the sidecar. Now go ahead. Ride with Hermione. We’ll meet at the restaurant.”

They drove to a quiet upscale restaurant, where they had reservations. Harry quickly realized why the Weasleys hadn’t been invited. While Arthur Weasley would have loved the chance to dine at a muggle restaurant, the Weasley family would have caused an incident within minutes. Sirius and Remus on the other hand, seemed very comfortable.

“Where did you two learn to get along in this kind of environment?” Harry asked quietly.

“Well, pup, I was an auror and sometimes you have to be able to move in diverse environments to capture your man.” Sirius said, “Your mother almost went mental trying to teach me how to function in the muggle world, but she managed. She was brilliant.”

“As for me, I’ve told you how hard it is to find work due to my condition,” Remus answered, “I also originally learned from Lily, but since then, I’ve spent a fair amount of time working with muggles.”

“So tell us about the tournament?” Oberon asked heartily.

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione and immediately knew she didn’t want him to tell the whole story. So he told an abbreviated version, leaving out some of the more dangerous elements, but leaving in enough to remain impressive. He glanced back and noticed both of his uncles beaming proudly at him. The warm feeling of having family was very unfamiliar, but equally welcome.

“He was brilliant, dad!” Hermione said, her warm brown eyes bursting with pride.

“Only because your daughter taught me everything I needed to know. She knew what they were going to throw at me and between her and Ron, they had a plan to deal with it all.” Harry returned modestly.

“So we’ve heard a little about summer plans.” Jane said, “We’ve delayed making our plans at Hermione’s insistence. She said she’d spoken to your Godfather and had some ideas?”

Harry shrugged, looking at Hermione and Sirius. Both grinned back.

“It was a bit of a surprise, mom.” Hermione said.

“I have an island,” Sirius started.

“Have an island?” Oberon asked, “What do you mean, have an island?”

The Grangers had gone from thinking of Harry as an orphan pauper to an heir, but the sudden news that Sirius owned an island was still a shock.

“Yes, Black Isle is a small island in the British Indies.” Sirius explained, “It was used by some of my less savory ancestors to smuggle riches out of the New World. I have a suspicion that some might have been slavers. My family really wasn’t the nicest, but I like to think I’ve started to change that. Anyway, I thought we could spend the holiday on the island. There’s a small golf course, scuba diving, several beautiful cottages. The children will be studying, but it’s a wonderful setting for them to enjoy during their downtime.”

“I’m not sure we could take the whole summer away from our practice.” Jane said.

“I could set up transportation by Portkey for you and your husband. You can come for as much time as you’d like.” Sirius said, “Don’t let your schedule stop you.”

The two adult Grangers consulted quietly.

“We’re in.” Jane said.

After dinner, the Grangers drove Hermione to their home, while Sirius, Remus, and Harry drove to a neighborhood of town homes near the outskirts of London. Sirius handed Harry a slip of parchment with a single sentence written on it.

“Black Manor is located at 12 Grimmauld Place.”

Remus, driving, navigated behind the row of town homes and turned into a converted carriage house, adapted for use as a garage, although clearly still capable of housing a carriage.

“Come on, pup. Come see my house. It’s still a little grim,” Sirius said with a chuckle, “but it’s much better than it was.”

Harry was almost exhausted. It had been a long day on the train and dinner sat heavy on his stomach. He was led into the gaslit interior of the stately home. The interior was primarily dark wood, deep reds and golds of Gryffindor, with brass accents. He could tell all the painted surfaces were newly painted and the wood shone with polish. An elderly house elf, wearing a pillow case with the Black crest stenciled on it, met them at the door.

“Master Black, will you be needing anything?” the old elf said in a stately tone of voice, followed by a whisper, “Perhaps a knife in the back for the traitor son my mistress disowned, bringing foul creatures and half-bloods into her home?”

“While that offer sounds tempting, Kreacher, I have to decline for now.” Sirius said, aiming a kick at the elf.

Remus snorted and said in his own whisper to Harry, “This place is so much better than it was. Kreacher is a twisted thing, but he still works hard.”

“Let me show you your room, pup.” Sirius said, animatedly, “I had Kreacher fix it specially for you. I couldn’t wait for you to come home!”

Harry was led to a bedroom near the master bedroom of the manor. The inside was papered in red wallpaper with gilded snitches fluttering in a pattern all along. They were subtle and it was clearly expensive. A four poster bed very similar to Harry’s Hogwarts bed dominated the room, with a wardrobe and dresser nearby. Several bookshelves and comfortable leather chairs finished the room.

“Brilliant!” Harry said, “Is it really mine?”

“It’s really yours. Say the word and we can change it, but I wanted to surprise you.” Sirius said, clearly eager for Harry’s approval and thrilled with his Godson’s happiness.

“No, this is perfect.” Harry said, looking around, “It feels like home.”

Sirius showed Harry through the manor. He seemed determined to hit every room until Remus whispered something and Sirius noted how tired Harry looked. Harry’s room had an attached bath. They also saw Sirius’ master bedroom, Remus’ room, a large library, then downstairs they walked through a few living areas, a dining room, and the kitchen.

“Harry, you look like you’re going to fall asleep on your feet.” Sirius said with a paternal note of concern, “Remember, house rules say if you fall asleep with your shoes on, you’re fair game for pranks!”

“House rules don’t exempt you if you have your shoes on, of course.” Remus said with a grin.

“True, but you didn’t have to give away our secret, Mooney!” Sirius chuckled, “Get to bed, pup.”

“I’ll walk him up to his room.” Remus said, “Pour some of that scotch Minerva sent and I’ll be right back.”

Remus walked Harry up the stairs. Harry noticed a runner held down to each individual step with brass fittings. Everything about the house spoke to old money, despite the fact that it was obvious it was in the process of being renovated.

“He’s so happy you’re pleased.” Remus said quietly to Harry as they walked, “It’s been like an obsession with him, getting this house ready for you to get out of school. I thought he might have a hard time after being cleared, but he has really focused on you. He’s preparing lessons on wizarding culture, so you’ll be trained to take over as the Head of House Potter and the heir of House Black. He’s hiring tutors for the summer…well, he’s mostly had me hiring tutors, but effectively the same thing. I think you’ve given him something to live for. I don’t know how he would be doing otherwise, particularly trapped in this house as it was. It was truly filthy, unlivable, with cursed items as common as Weasleys at Hogwarts. If he’s a little off for some time, don’t be surprised, ok?”

“Of course, Uncle Mooney.” Harry said.

“Good man!” Remus said, “Now get some sleep. I’ve arranged for the Grangers to come back tomorrow and we’re going to meet for lunch with some of your tutors to discuss our special ‘summer session’.”

Remus turned to leave, amused that as he reached the door, Harry was already gently snoring. He turned back, removing the boys shoes and pulling the heavy blanket over him. The Potter heir’s return to their lives was good for both of his uncles.

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Harry woke to a set of giant eyes looking into his from inches away.

“Wha…!” he exclaimed, pulling his wand.

“Master Harry, Dobby’s sorry!” the elf said excitedly, “I just wanted to be sure you was awake, breakfast is ready!”

“Dobby, you don’t have to call me Master. I’m Harry.”

“Oh, no, Master Harry,” Dobby said, looking down and shaking his head, “Harry Potter is a great wizard, I couldn’t.”

Harry sighed and got cleaned up with the help of his elven valet.

Downstairs, his uncles were already gathered around a table in the kitchen. Remus was reading the Daily Prophet, his plate piled high with bacon and sausage. Sirius, wearing a silk robe over pajama pants, had his head tilted back and was listening to music coming from a wireless set. His foot tapped along to the beat and he waved his wand as if he were a conductor, occasional golden sparks flying from his wand.

“Good morning Uncle Padfoot!” Harry called, “Uncle Mooney.”

“Good morning, Pronglet.” Sirius said with a grin, “Kreacher, bring Harry his breakfast.”

“Yes, Master.” Kreacher said dutifully, then hissed, “Nasty boy wouldn’t have anything to eat if it were up to Kreacher, none of mistress’ food for the whelp.”

Dobby glared at the old elf.

“Does he know he’s saying that out loud?” Harry asked, bemused.

“We’re not sure.” Remus answered, “He may not have all his faculties remaining. He was stuck here for years with just Sirius’ mother’s portrait to keep him company. It doesn’t seem to have helped his mental state much. He’s better than he has been, but something’s not right.”

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After breakfast, Harry wandered into the library. Remus followed him in.

“Have a look, Harry.” Remus said, “The ancient house libraries are one of the things that keep the purebloods ahead of the muggle-born witches and wizards. Some spells are kept within houses, never leaked outside. Certain houses are known for different specialties. The Blacks have generally had a pretty dark reputation, so you’ll find many tomes on curses, but they’re also well known for wards. Sirius has some general defense against the dark arts books in that section there from when he was an auror. He was quite good. He’ll need some time to get back into shape, but we’ve been working together in the training room in the basement and we’re both making progress.”

“You’ll have to show me that, later.” Harry murmured, already becoming interested in some of the defense titles.

“Let’s wait until everyone gets here.” Remus said, already starting to wander off to leave Harry to his own devices.

Harry was already deep into a very interesting defense book, “Advanced Shields for the Intermediate Practitioner, Moving Beyond Protego”, sharing concepts and glimpses with Hermione through their bond while she shopped with her parents near their home, when he heard Sirius come into the library. Glancing up, he noticed that a few hours had already passed.

“Harry, how are you settling in?” Sirius asked paternally.

“Good so far, Sirius. This place is amazing! I… I’ve never really had family before. I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall, but coming here is like Christmas for me, if that makes any sense.” Harry tried to explain.

“It’s like Christmas for us, too, pup.” Sirius said, “It’s been tough for me. When your parents died, I had never really had to grow up. Your dad and I were friends in school, more like brothers. The Potters all but adopted me, because I didn’t get along with the Blacks. Being associated with the Potters made me a bit of an outcast, even though the two families are interrelated, as all the pure-blood families are. James and I were partners like something you might see on the telly. Lily used to say we thought we were Starsky and Hutch, she even made me watch a few episodes so I knew what she meant. Lily became like a sister to me and was trying to break my bad habits. She always said my being a dog animagus was appropriate in so many ways, although I still insist I’m a grim or black shuck and not a dog, but her point was well taken.

When your parents were killed, I lost my mind. My first thought was for you, but once I knew you were safe with Hagrid, I immediately went after Peter. I failed you and I failed your parents trust in me. Picking me as your Godfather was an amazing amount of trust. I knew everyone questioned James’ judgment when he picked me, but I know he made the choice very deliberately and after consultation with your mother. I always planned to live up to their faith in me, but when it became time, I failed. That’s a regret I’ll have until the day I die.

Azkaban is bad. I don’t think I can make you understand since you haven’t been there, but I know you’ve faced dementors, so I think you have an inkling. Imagine being without human contact for years, surrounded by dementors, and with the guilt of failing your Godson at the top of your thoughts the entire time. When I left there, I was broken. When you and Hermione rescued me, all I could see was your father. You look so much like him and part of me entangled the two of you together in my head. I was so broken and confused at that point that part of me considered living in a cave as a grim, just so I could be close to you. I didn’t want to fail you again.

Luckily, I contacted Remus. He brought me back here. That, too, could have been bad, because I have horrid memories of this place from my childhood and it had grown even darker since then. We only stayed long enough to get Kreacher working on fixing it, purge the worst of the dark items, books, and dark creatures, and make arrangements. Then we went to Black Island, where I’ve been under the care of private healers. Remus convinced me that the most mature decision and the best way to take care of you wasn’t to live in a cave nearby, even though that seemed to make sense at the time, but to regain my strength and clear my mind so I could truly be a guardian to you.

I look back on the prankster I was and while I’m still fond of that fellow and will always be a marauder, I realize that bloke was a product of a different time. We live in a darker time now and my focus must be on preparing myself and preparing you for what lies ahead. Dark wizards like Malfoy have been all but unopposed for too long. Dumbledore tries, but the Dumbledores, while a pureblood house, are not prominent enough. The Potters are gone but for you. The Longbottoms are represented by a dowager and another boy. The Weasleys have fallen on hard times and are all but destitute. The Bones are represented by a strong woman and her daughter.

So I see my role as being the counter to Malfoy. I’ll train you and build a coalition to oppose that git.

What I ask of you is to study hard. I am so proud of you. What I’ve seen from you, when you rescued me, in your letters, and in that blasted tournament, has convinced me that you are not your father. You’re the best of your father, the man he was growing into as a respected auror, tempered by the intelligence and kindness of your mum.”

Harry swallowed around a lump in his throat. He realized how much he’d been missing a father figure and he didn’t quite know how to deal with it now that his wish was right in front of him. Sirius, seeming to sense it, wrapped him in a very paternal hug. Both were what the other needed.

Harry didn’t know how long they’d been like that when he felt a presence he knew well. He looked up and saw Hermione in the library door watching them. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Harry started.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” Hermione replied, bursting into tears and throwing herself into the hug.

Harry and Sirius exchanged a confused glance over the bushy brown head.

After the emotions had settled a bit, the three walked down the stairs into the living area. Harry saw the Grangers and walked up to Hermione’s dad. They shook hands and Harry tried his best to look him straight in the eye.

“Oberon, sorry I wasn’t down to meet you. We were in the library.” Harry said.

“Harry,” Mr. Granger replied with a bit of teasing in his tone, “you’re doing better with my name. Maybe I’ll have you calling me dad before too long. Don’t worry about it, your uncle Remus was showing us around the bottom floor here. He says lunch is almost ready.”

“Jane.” Harry said, hugging Mrs. Granger.

“If he ever gets you to call him dad, I definitely wouldn’t mind if you called me mum, Harry.” She whispered.

Harry blushed and turned away to hide his embarrassment.

“Nice place your uncle has here.” Oberon said, looking around, “I understand it’s been in the family a long time?”

“Oh, yes. We have a country home which is larger, but most of the ancient families have city homes for when the Wizengamot is in session. I think we built it 200 years or so ago, give or take. I’m sure one of the portraits would know if I asked.” Sirius said.

“Wizengamot?” Oberon asked.

“It’s like wizarding parliament, dad.” Hermione said.

“That reminds me, Hermione.” Sirius said, “I have a book for you and Harry. You should start reading it soon, it’s my homework assignment for the wizarding culture lessons I’m going to give you. Lily wrote it and something you said reminded me of something in it she used to tell the muggle born students when she was Head Girl. I won’t quote her, because she phrased it better than I’m able to, but essentially she would say not to get confused because something wizarding might be vaguely similar to something muggle, but because of the vast differences in culture, the similarity could be as confusing as the difference.

Here’s an example: James and I were aurors. Most muggle born students think of aurors like the muggle constabulary. Maybe policemen or detectives, they think, but how many British Lords become policemen or detectives? Aurors are a combination of policemen, detectives, and military. Young witches and wizards of the Ancient and Noble houses have often become aurors, just as muggle nobles often entered marital fields, noblesse oblige and all that rot. Often, in reality, it meant that being part of the enforcement arm of the wizarding government brought power and allowed us to focus on honing our abilities in dueling, which has always been a major part of our culture.”

“Interesting.” Oberon said, “Duelling is big in your world? Fairly old fashioned, isn’t it?”

“Well, I think you’d call our whole society ‘old fashioned’ wouldn’t you?” Sirius replied, “Lily used to tell me she could spend her entire life in academia writing about the reasons for that. We’ll be skimming the topic during the summer course I’ll be teaching these two. Imagine, though, that everyone in your society carried a pistol everywhere, all the time. Do you think dueling would have ever gone out of favor? Our wands are pistols, cannons, shovels, rope-and-pulley, cart with horse… they’re everything and you can’t separate the violent from the utilitarian, so our culture never moved past that.”

The floo lit up with green flames and Moody looked in.

“Sirius, it’s Moody.” He hissed, “What was the first spell I beat you with during your auror training?”

“A bludgeoning hex.” Sirius said.

“Ok, I’m coming through.”

Moody stepped out from the floo in a flash of green fire.

A minute later, Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape came in together from Hogwarts.

“Welcome.” Sirius said to all of them, with only a nasty glance at Snape, which he returned with a sneer.

“A very nice dog house you have here.”

Sirius merely inclined his head, ignoring the jibe.

Kreacher entered and summoned them to lunch.

Over lunch, they didn’t talk about anything consequential. Professor Flitwick described some charms research he was working on for publication. Hermione took a definite interest in the conversation, although potions and transfiguration were more along her lines. Harry found he was able to easily follow along. He wasn’t sure why he was still surprised with his new academic interest, but now that he could understand what the academics were talking about, he was able to quickly connect it to his own interests. He realized that Flitwick’s project to quantify magical energy would allow better understanding of wizards’ power levels, allowing different wizards to be more accurately rated, which would allow more personalized instruction. It was a topic that Dumbledore had just briefly touched on when he had taught them auramancy and how to dump power into the Hogwarts’ wards, but Professor Flitwick was proposing a new arithmantic scheme to quantify it.

“I think that’s part of the problem at Hogwarts.” Harry added to the conversation. “All our classes are together. It makes no more sense to have Hermione in a class with Goyle than it does to have a muggle taking these courses. We need ways to classify and focus on the educational needs of different types of students.”

Hermione gave him a somewhat startled look. She too was still adjusting to his new personality, even with the advantage of the bond to facilitate her understanding. He couldn’t blame her. If he was still surprised by his new depths, how could he expect her not to be?

“Exactly, Mr. Potter!” the charms master said, “It’s difficult, because let’s consider the case of you and Hermione a year ago. While she would need to be stratified into a different class than you, based on her academic efforts, when it came time to apply the theory to practical casting, you would need to be stratified into a more challenging curriculum than her, because your natural power gave you quite an advantage. Sorting out all those factors on top of the artificial divisions of the house system makes it an educational challenge. It’s one reason apprenticeships are preferred for advanced education over universities such as the muggles use.

I was actually hoping you and Miss Granger could help me once I get to the point of my research of calibrating my equations from the theoretical to the actual power reserve and output stage. You’re both outliers at the upper end and will help me build a more complete data set.”

“What does that mean?” Jane asked, “I understand Hermione is an outlier intellectually. She’s been in gifted and talented programs since she has been in school, but ‘power reserve’ sounds like something different than IQ.”

“Oh, most certainly, although the same concepts apply.” Filius said, warming to the topic, “A brilliant witch with a 99th percentile IQ can still have only a thimbleful of magical power, although that’s rare for interesting reasons. The two traits independently sort for the most part, although magic is magic and someone with a core the size of Mr. Potter’s is likely to have a higher IQ because the magic will push him that way, optimizing whatever he was born with. Magic functions both consciously and subconsciously and we suspect that subconscious magic of parents selects for improved traits in their children and then childrens’ magic subconsciously works to maximize the use of whatever the child is born with, although research in the area is extremely limited.

So the magical core can be thought of as a battery. Both Harry and Hermione have a lot of energy available and they’ve got a very efficient system for using it. Just like Hermione needed special programs to help her live up to her potential in muggle education, these two need special teaching to live up to their potential as wizard and witch, but our system tends to only provide that kind of extra education informally.”

“Oh.” Jane said proudly.

“I think that leads well into our conversation.” Sirius offered, “Perhaps we can move to the sitting room and discuss our plans for the summer?”

They all found comfortable places on luxurious couches and chairs in the nearby sitting room. Sirius began,

“Albus and I have decided it’s time to start a specialized program of instruction for these two. We’ve discussed it before and you know that during the school year they’ll be pursuing their normal studies along with apprenticeships, so I’m going to limit myself to the summer curriculum I’ve set in motion.”

Snape looked a little sour at Sirius’ assertion taking responsibility, but Sirius ignored him.

“We have almost two months, so the plans are predicated around that limitation. Given Voldemort’s return, we’re focusing somewhat on skills that will help face him, although wherever possible we’ve tried to generalize enough to set them up for success in whatever pursuits they choose in the future. I’m no educator, but my friend Remus is, so I’ve delegated to him overall supervision of the program. Remus?”

“Thank you, Sirius.” Mr. Lupin said, “In turn, while I felt confident with my performance as professor of defense, I do acknowledge that there are others readily available with even greater expertise and so have delegated as well. For summer defense against the dark arts elective, Senior Auror Alastor Moody will be in charge. He has been an auror instructor for many years and was commandant of the auror academy for a time. He has worked closely with Professor Flitwick, to integrate the curriculum with the intended curriculum once the Hogwarts’ term starts. Professor Severus Snape will continue occulomency lessons. Mr. John Ashdown, whom you have not met, will meet us at Black Island and will supervise a course of physical fitness and martial arts. I will be available to supervise and provide my expertise where required.

“We discussed optimal class size. We have considered allowing others to attend and have gone so far as to ask Arthur and Molly Weasley whether Ron and perhaps Ginny could participate, but they’re not sure they want their children gone during their only time together as a family. She actually suggested we move the program to the Burrow, which we considered, but we have facilities at Black Island we would not have at the Burrow. We will have a final decision by July 5th, our planned departure date. Are there questions?”

“I think I’m learning things about the wizarding world I’ve never even been aware to ask.” Oberon Granger said, with a strong look at Hermione. She dropped her eyes and blushed slightly at the subtle rebuke. “I don’t think I had realized how important defense and dueling were in your world. Is this really an appropriate use of Hermione’s time this summer?”

“Yes, I strongly believe it is.” Remus replied, “First, because defense against the dark arts is used as a ‘fusion’ class at Hogwarts, blending lessons learned in the other core classes and encouraging practical application. Her efforts this summer will carry over into her core classes during term, I can guarantee it. Secondly, I’m not sure you’re aware to what extent Harry has been targeted by Voldemort?”

“I know the basics of that story. Hermione read me portions from books even before her first term that talked about ‘the boy who lived’ and I understand it has gone on from there. Is it safe for her to even be around Harry?” Oberon asked.

Hermione gasped. Jane gave her husband a strong and not-so-subtle elbow to the ribs.

Remus merely chuckled. “Mr. Granger, I don’t know if you’ve really understood about the soul-bond. If Harry dies, then likely so does Hermione. Being around Harry is dangerous, but we intend to insure there is no safer place to be.”

“Very well.” Oberon said, with a look at his daughter and wife, “I don’t suppose there’s really any point in asking me. As much as I want to protect my little girl, I think she has good judgment and a better basis for an informed decision than I do. I’ll support her attendance if that’s what she wants. Do we need to provide funds to help pay tuition?”

At this Sirius chuckled. “No. I consider Hermione family and if I haven’t said so before, I formally extend the protection of the House of Black to the House of Granger.”

Hermione whispered to her father and at her prompting he replied, “I accept.” At his response, a blue light flashed from Sirius to the Grangers.

“It won’t physically protect you, but it will be recorded at the ministry. The Grangers are under the protection of the Potters through betrothal and now the Blacks. That should limit any mischief to only the hard core deatheaters and keep the simple pureblood extremists away.” Sirius said, “Ok, I think that concludes the meeting. Auror Moody has said he’d like to meet with his students in the dueling room in the basement for an initial assessment. If anyone else has anything for them, catch them now. Otherwise, I’ll distribute portkeys to Black Island. I hope you’ll go between now and the 5th to get settled and look over the facilities so you can plan your lessons.”

Snape nodded briefly to Harry and Hermione, shocking Harry slightly. His departure was almost collegial. Professor Flitwick flashed a grin at both students before leaving via floo. Moody walked towards the stair to the basement.

“Well, are you two coming or do I need to motivate you?” he growled.

They quickly followed.

At the bottom of the stair, they found themselves in a small hallway of brick and stone. They followed the hallway past what appeared to be store rooms. Passing one room, Harry thought he could smell potion supplies. At the very end they came to a heavy metal doorway with runes along the frame. A tap with Moody’s wand and the door opened soundlessly on well-oiled hinges. Inside they saw a large ballroom sized empty area with heavy stone walls and a stone floor. Walls and floor both had protective runes inscribed at intervals.

“Are you both ready to duel?” Moody asked.

“Sure.” Harry said with a shrug.

“No you’re not!” Moody shouted angrily, getting very close to Harry’s face. “Where’s your wand?”

Harry pulled it out of his pocket quickly.

“Never keep your wand in a back pocket!” Moody growled, “I knew someone who lost a buttock that way, once. I’ll get you set up with wand holsters when I get upstairs to my trunk. Now we won’t be dueling today. We actually won’t be dueling that much this summer. You look surprised? You probably thought the way to get better at dueling is to duel, didn’t you? You’re not even ready for that, yet. Normally I work with aurors, highly qualified graduates of Hogwarts, other wizarding schools, or home schooling. They have to meet extensive requirements in charms, transfiguration, and potions to even be considered and the selection process is very competitive, especially recently, when almost no new aurors have been trained. Well, you’re 3 years away from even applying, even if we assume you’ll get the OWLs and NEWTS you need to apply. We must teach you the essentials from those 3 years in the next 2 months, so you can start on auror-level training with the new term. I’ve told Albus, Remus, Sirius, and Filius it’s a ridiculous goal, but for some reason each of them think you can do it. Albus, the most powerful wizard I ever met said something about, ‘Harry Potter manages the impossible at least once each term, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised, Moody.’ Well, I’ll told him I’m NEVER surprised, but we’ll see.

You may have heard practice makes perfect? Well, I say perfect practice makes perfect. 10,000 hours of training is required to master a task and dueling consists of blending together thousands of tasks seamlessly in response to a determined enemy that’s trying to kill you!

So we’ll be practicing. I’m going to put you through drills to cast all the bread and butter spells until you can cast them in your sleep. You’ll practice your speed, you’ll practice your accuracy, you’ll work on your endurance, you’ll work on chaining spells together. To really hit proficient auror level, you should be casting spells silently and with minimal wand movement. In order to get there, you must first master casting the spell verbally and with full movements, then you can work on casting non-verbally and reducing the movement you need.

There are only so many basic types of spells and while there are many variations of them, once you get to the level of mastery, it barely matters which you’re casting. We’ll attempt to get you started on mastering bludgeoning, piercing, cutting, blasting, banishing, flame, ice for offense. For defense, you’ll learn shields, including optimized variants for each of the attacks above, and dispelling spells. You’ll learn to cast these quickly, accurately, while moving, right and left handed, and chain them together so you can cast them in series. You’ll learn to cast exhausted or injured. Do you have any questions?”

“No, Professor Moody.” Harry said. Hermione just shook her head, lips tight.

“I’m not your Professor, I didn’t quite make it to actually teaching before, did I?” Moody said with a scowl. With a gesture, he produced a row of manikins.

“Ok, let’s start with the bludgeoning hex.” Moody said, showing them the gesture, telling them the incantation, and having them slowly practice it.

“Remember, at first, slow is fast. Why? Slow is smooth and smooth is fast. I don’t want you to try to hurry at first. Speed will come. Right now, work on casting the spell perfectly.”

They continued practicing the bludgeoning hex until they were both exhausted. By that time, both felt like they could cast in their sleep and were hitting the center of the dummies with each bludgeon.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: Ok, so this is setting up for summer training, which will build the foundation for their defense training throughout the next year. Dumbledore was always waiting to train Harry because he didn’t want to ruin Harry’s childhood. I think death tends to ruin childhood worse than hard work does and if it weren’t for some of the ridiculous deus ex machine quirks of magic that saved him, Harry would have been toast.

So I haven’t decided who is going to go to the Island. It’s not going to be for that many chapters anyway. Right now I’m leaning towards Harry and Hermione going alone. The Weasley parents want Ron and Ginny there (they were never really away over the summer). Neville and Luna could almost certainly talk their guardians into going. Going alone would let H/Hr really focus on intensive training and give them even more of a leg up, making them clear leaders of a future Defense Association, but more people would give more training opportunities in other ways.

What do you think? Give me opinions in the reviews and if I haven’t already decided by then, I may alter who goes based on your ideas.

16. Black Isle

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and earn no money from this.

Chapter 16: Black Isle

Late the next morning, Harry woke up to a muffled thud on the bed next to him. He blearily opened one eye and saw his bushy haired best friend and fiancée sprawled on the bed next to him, still in her pajamas. She’d stayed the night, too tired to go home.

“It’s morning already?” he groaned.

“I’m afraid so.” Hermione sighed, “This is as far as I got.”

A few minutes later, they both managed to wake enough to get out of bed. Harry cast a teeth cleaning charm on himself, while Hermione sat on the edge of his bed, idly kicking her feet. She was in a t-shirt and pajama pants. Harry noticed while she was kicking that her breasts were moving freely under the tee. He glanced away and blushed, then looked back only to find her staring straight at him.

“See something you like?” she said, smirking. He realized with the bond he’d never get away with much, but he’d never get in too much trouble, either.

She smiled at him and he could tell she liked the way he was looking at her, because her nipples became more prominent.

“Come on, let’s get breakfast.” She said.

“You’re going to go down like that?” Harry asked.

“You think maybe Sirius hasn’t seen a girl braless? Or is it Remus you’re worried about?”

Harry laughed, realizing something he felt through the bond. Hermione had a hint of exhibitionist in her. She realized what he’d picked up on and blushed even redder than he’d been, but she didn’t go to her room to change.

“Ok, come on.” He said, grabbing her hand, while thinking that it was always the nerdy ones.

Breakfast was transformed from a mundane meal to a flirting session. Hermione would like at Harry and blush. She’d catch him looking at her and smirk.

Remus looked at Sirius, mouthed “What’s with these two?” Sirius shrugged.

“Have you thought any more about who you’d like to go to Black Isle with you?” Sirius asked.

Hermione looked at Harry, communicating without talking. Then she looked up, answering for both.

“We do think we should take at least Ron, Ginny, and Neville.” Hermione said, “Ron would feel like we’d abandoned him if we didn’t ask him to go. I think we’ll have to be careful not to let him hold us back, but he’s been different this year, so maybe it won’t be as hard to keep him motivated as it might have been before. If Ron’s there, Ginny will want to be. Neville could use the work. He’s always lacked confidence and his spell work in class seems to have suffered for it. I think he can be so much more than he thinks and maybe this is just the boost it will take to bring that out.”

“I anticipated you might want to bring the Weasleys and so I talked to Arthur and Molly. They’re a bit reluctant to be away from their children for the entire summer. What would you think if I invited them along?” Sirius asked.

“They’re already like family to me.” Harry offered.

“Ok, it’s decided. Let’s spend today getting everything ready. We’ll floo over to the Burrow, talk to the Weasleys. Then we’ll floo over to Longbottom Manor and talk to Augusta. I think she’ll let him go because of your parents’ friendship, the traditional alliance between Potter and Longbottom, and maybe hoping the same thing you are, that this will give him that boost he needs. You both go up and get ready. You can dress comfortably for the Burrow, but bring some nice robes for when we visit the Longbottoms. Looking the part might make things easier there. I’ll floo call Augusta and arrange for our visit later.”

A half hour later, they each stepped through the floo with a handful of powder and a cry of “The Burrow!”

Harry almost stumbled coming out of the floo, but Sirius caught his elbow, steadying him.

“Harry!” Molly shouted, coming over and grabbing him, smothering him in a huge hug.

“Hi, there!” Harry said with a smile.

“Hermione, you’re looking well.” Molly said.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.”

Ron and Ginny came running in.

“Hey, mate! Good to see you.” Ron said, “What are you up to? How are the hols now that you don’t have to stay with those Muggles?”

“Brilliant, Ron!” Harry said with a grin, “I can’t even tell you. It might get better.”

“Ginny, how are you?” Hermione asked.

“Good. Do you remember Luna? She’s visiting today.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, looking at the blonde who walked in to the kitchen behind Ron and Ginny, barefoot, in a sundress and with a butterbeer cork necklace, “we met at the dance and she was one of the first people to see my ring! Luna how are you?”

“Good, I think.” Luna said, dreamily, “I woke up this morning thinking I needed to buy a swimsuit. I hope I get to meet a Nereid.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look.

“What are you talking about?” Ginny asked, giving her friend a strange look.

Ron, surprisingly, didn’t seem bothered, but Hermione often wondered if he even noticed the strange things Luna said.

Arthur walked in and gave them all hugs and handshakes.

“Now that we’re all here, I want to make a proposal.” Sirius said, “We’re planning a summer getaway to Black Isle and we’d like for you to come. It’ll be a fantastic vacation, but for the children, we’re planning tutors and it will be a working vacation. Seeing the tournament and especially finding out that Voldemort is back convinced me that there’s no time to waste.”

“Blimey.” Ron said with wide eyes.

“You want the children to go?” Molly asked.

“We’ve talked and I know you don’t want to be away from them.” Sirius replied, “I’ve got the main house and several smaller guest houses. I have the house elves preparing one of the guest houses for you if you want to come. That way you can spend the summer with your children and they can still come to the island.”

“Mum, please.” Ginny said, looking at her mother with longing.

“So you kids want to go?” Arthur asked.

“Sure!” Ron said.

“Very much, dad!” Ginny squealed.

“Ok, let the adults talk. We’ll let you know what we decide.” Arthur said, dismissing the young people.

The all walked out to the garden.

“I can’t wait to see the ocean!” Luna said, skipping along.

Harry and Hermione shared a concerned glance. They hadn’t realized the Ravenclaw would assume she was invited, but it would be mean to uninvite her. Besides, they did like the girl, even if she was a bit strange.

“Luna, we didn’t realize you’d be here or want to go.” Hermione said carefully, “We’d love for you to, but we need to talk to Sirius and to your parents.”

“Daddy won’t mind. Neither will your Uncle, Harry.” Luna said, smiling.

After a few minutes of walking in the garden, they were called back in.

“Your mum and I decided we’d take advantage of Lord Black’s offer.” Arthur said, “We’re going to go. We talked to the twins and they’ve apparently got a project they’re working on this summer, so they’re going to stay behind.”

“Arthur, they’re too young…” Molly started, but stopped at a sharp look from her husband.

“We won’t have long to get ready, so I expect you both to pack tonight.” Arthur said, looking firmly at Ron and Ginny.

Harry went up to his uncle and whispered in his ear. Sirius glanced at Luna and nodded.

“I know Xenophilius. I’ll floo call him from here.” Sirius said.

After getting permission for Luna, which when he finally came to the floo, Xenophilius absentmindedly gave, they prepared for the next stage of their trip, putting on their nice robes over the muggle clothes they were wearing.

“Maybe if meeting with the Lovegoods goes quickly we could meet in Diagon Alley for lunch and to do a little shopping to get ready?” Sirius offered, looking at the Weasleys.

“Sure, just give us a call when you know. We can meet at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch.” Arthur said.

With that, they each entered the floo and with a shouted, “Longbottom Manor” disappeared.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Harry kept his feet coming out of the floo this time without assistance, although it was a close thing. He noticed a house elf waiting, dressed in a tea-towel with the Longbottom crest clearly stenciled on it.

“Mistress is waiting for you in the drawing room.” The elf said in a squeaky but haughty tone, leading them into a formal sitting room.

“Madame Longbottom.” Sirius said with a bow.

“Lord Black.” Augusta said with a nod, “I am pleased you were found innocent.”

“As was I.” Sirius said with a grin.

“Children, you’ll probably find Neville in the greenhouses.” Augusta said, “Letty will lead you.”

They followed the house elf out to the greenhouses, recognizing a dismissal. They found Neville with his sleeves rolled up, working in the dirt.

“Hi, Harry! Hermione!” Neville said, pushing sweaty hair out of his face.

“Neville! It’s great to see you, mate!” Harry said, clapping him on the back.

“Really?” Neville said, surprised, “I mean, it’s great to see you both, too. What are you up to?”

“Your gran didn’t tell you?” Hermione asked.

“Tell me what?”

“We’re planning on going on vacation. My uncle Sirius has arranged tutors so we can work on defense with Voldemort back. We wondered if you’d like to come along?” Harry said.

“I’d love to!” Neville said, excitedly. “I’m rubbish at defense, so maybe that would help me.”

“You’re not rubbish, Neville.” Hermione said, “You’ll pick it up.”

“Well, my parents were both aurors.” Neville said, downcast, “I want to live up to them, but I doubt I’ll ever even get close. I even use my father’s wand to honor his memory, but with the way I use it, I don’t think it’s honoring anyone.”

Harry, having learned what had happened to Neville’s family at school and having told nobody, even Hermione, started to quickly change the subject, but Hermione beat him to it.

“You use your father’s wand?” Hermione said, puzzled, “Mr. Ollivander told me ‘the wand picks the wizard’ and when I read a book or two about it, I learned that a wizard without a matched wand is not going to be able to cast nearly so well.”

“Really?” Neville asked, “Too bad I can’t get a matched wand, then. I need all the help I can get.”

Harry and Hermione shared a quick thought and knew they had to come up with a way to get Neville his own wand.

Letty came up to them and cleared her throat.

“Master Neville, your grandmother desires your presence in the drawing room.”

Harry was surprised. Dobby’s grammar was terrible, but Letty sounded like a schoolmistress.

They followed the elf back to the sitting room after she used her elf magic to make Neville presentable. Sirius sat on one highbacked chair across from Augusta. Each had a cup of tea.

“Neville, I have decided you will be taking summer classes with Lord Black and his charges.”

“Really, gran?” Neville said, excitedly, “That’s wonderful!”

Only a hint of a smile crossed the proper old lady’s face, but it was clear she loved her grandson.

“Lord Black worked with your parents and with James Potter. He wants to prepare you and I think that is a rather good idea. I want you to work hard and honor the Longbottom name.”

“Of course, gran.” Neville said with a slight bow.

“Throw on a robe, you will accompany Lord Black and young Lord Potter to lunch. You are to pick up what you will need for the summer. Here is a list and here is money.”

Sirius called the Weasleys while Neville went to his room and changed into robes. Soon they were all stepping through with a called, “The Leaky Cauldron”.

When Harry stepped out this time, he did it almost gracefully. He quickly thought he might be getting the hang out of floo travel. It wasn’t hard to find their table, as it was filled with redheads. They quickly ate lunch, all trying to ignore the terrible sight of Ron Weasley eating and keeping their hands far away from his plate, then went into the Alley to shop.

Harry whispered to Sirius, who quirked an eyebrow at him, but then nodded.

“Harry, don’t forget to take your friends to Ollivanders. I want for you to each choose a spare wand and two wand holsters. Harry will put them on the Black account, as I consider this a course requirement, understood?”

The Weasleys looked ready to say something, but stopped at a look from Sirius that promised he’d explain later.

After a quick discussion, the young people decided to go to Ollivander’s first, although Hermione insisted that Flourish and Bott’s might make a better starting point. As they walked towards the wandmaker’s, Harry felt like he was getting many disturbing looks from the other wizards walking the main wizarding thoroughfare. He always received attention and expected that wouldn’t have improved with his winning the TriWizard tournament, but somehow the attention now seemed different. He shrugged it off and followed Hermione.

They walked into the store, to quickly be recognized by Mr. Ollivander. The store was almost empty, as it was early in the summer for most Hogwarts’ students to be shopping.

“Mr. Potter! 11 inches, holly and phoenix feather. I just examined your wand for the tournament and it appeared to be in fine shape, although could have used a polish. You’re not having problems, are you?”

“No, sir. My uncle wants us to have spares, though. He said to place them on the Black account.”

“Ah, I see.” Ollivander said, nodding. “Well, we’d better get started, I recall it took awhile to find your wand. Mr. Longbottom! I rather expected you 4 years ago. What have you been using?”

“My da’s wand.” Neville said, holding it out.

“A fine wand.” Ollivander said, “And you’ve done a fine job maintaining it. However, I think you’ll find a wand that has picked you may work better for you. Let’s see what we find.”

He grabbed a box from the shelf and handed it to Neville. A burst of smoke poured out.

“No, no,” Ollivander said, distracted, “you need a more powerful wand than that with your core.”

Harry clapped Neville on the back, “More powerful, hear that, Nev?”

After extensive trial and error, Mr. Ollivander found a 13" cherry wood, with a unicorn hair core. He handed it to Neville. A wave and a powerful fountain of red and gold sparks shot forth. Each of them felt a wind blowing their robes around their legs.

“Oh, well chosen, Mr. Longbottom!” Ollivander said, clapping his hands together. “I think you’ll find that quite suitable. Now for you, Mr. Weasley. I remember we replaced your wand recently and I think I have an idea for your spare.”

Quickly, the wandmaker was able to match Ron, Ginny, and Luna. Hermione was more difficult. Ollivander tried wand after wand without the response he wanted.

“This is odd. The last time I remember this happening was with Mr. Potter…”

His eyes lit up as if he’d realized something. He looked Harry and Hermione over carefully.

“How did I miss that?” Ollivander said, musing. He pushed the two together and walked carefully around them, looking from every angle. “I think I have exactly what you need in the back.”

He went in the back and brought out a wider case, placing it on the counter in front of the two. When he pulled back the lid, they saw twin matched wands out of a dark wood.

“Try one.”

Hermione pulled one from the case and gave a swish and flick. Gold and green sparks traced the path of the wand and she laughed as she felt the rush of magic. The other wand, still in the case, spit a smaller stream of sparks.

“Whoa.” Ron whispered.

“Try the other, Mr. Potter.” Ollivander said.

Harry tried, getting a similar result, although with more green sparks and slightly fewer gold. The twin wand responded even in Hermione’s hand.

“These were made for a set of twins of the Black family. They’re each 11 inches long made of ebony from the same tree and dragon heartstring from the same dragon. They didn’t suit the ones they were made for and they’ve sat here waiting for their true owners ever since. I’m glad they’ve found their witch and their wizard.”

He then showed them each how to wear the holsters on wrist, leg, or belt.

“They’re enchanted to be protective and resistant to summoning. I think you’ll appreciate them.”

The children left, continuing their shopping.

After the bookstore, Hermione said, “We need swimsuits. I know I’ve probably grown out of mine. Where would we buy them?”

“Maybe we should buy muggle suits.” Ginny suggested, “I’ve seen yours and trust me, wizarding bathing suits are not the same thing.”

“What do you mean, Gin?” Ron asked.

“You’ll see.” Ginny said.

After getting permission from Sirius, they folded up their robes and left the Leaky Cauldron to get onto the nearby muggle street. They walked to a department store and went to the swimsuits. Ron was trying to blend in, but was clearly overwhelmed with the busy muggle shop. When he saw a woman’s swimsuit on a manikin, his mouth dropped open.

“You’re not suggesting you’d wear that, are you?” Ron said, shocked.

Hermione looked and shook her head.

Ron looked relieved until Hermione said, “No, that’s something my mom would wear. Ok, maybe not my mom, but someone’s old-fashioned mom. I’m looking to replace my bikinis.”

“What’s a bikini?” Ron asked.

“You’ll see!” Ginny said with a big grin.

They eventually left the store with Ron near catatonic in shock. He had barely been able to buy a conservative pair of trunks. Hermione had talked Harry into a pair of racing speedos, which embarrassed him, but he thought she deserved to have a say since she’d listened to him when he’d recommended which swimsuits he thought she looked best in. Neville picked out a pair that Ginny seemed to like, grinning at the younger girl.

They reentered Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron. Tom sent them to a private back room. Walking in, Harry saw Sirius sitting with the Weasleys. They looked irritated and had a number of newspapers spread out in front of them.

“Sit down, pup.” Sirius said, “Do you recall Fudge saying the ministry had ways of controlling information?”

“Vaguely, yes.” Harry said, “I wasn’t listening very closely and I was a bit tired.”

“Understandably, I can’t believe you had to go through what you did, my poor boy.” Molly said, grabbing his hand.

“Well, look at these.” Sirius continued, ignoring Molly.

The papers were full of articles about Harry and none of them were good.

“The-Boy-Who-Lies?” read one headline, above a picture of Harry after the third task.

“Augusta brought this to my attention. She thrown hers in the fireplace, so I had to wait until I got here to actually see them for myself.” Sirius said.

“What do we do?” Harry asked, stunned at being called a liar. It reminded him of his second year, when he was thought to be the ‘Heir of Slytherin’. He couldn’t understand how anyone would believe this garbage about him when he’d done nothing wrong.

“Well, I’ve been working on a plan.” Hermione said, “Do you notice none of the articles are by Skeeter?”

“That did surprise us.” Remus mentioned, looking at Hermione.

“Well, I discovered a secret about her.” Hermione started, reminding them of the beetle she’d captured and reporting how she’d realized about Skeeter’s animagus form. “I suspected this was what the Minister meant. So I told Rita that if she didn’t cooperate I was going to turn her into the ministry as an illegal animagus and have her working on a massive article that will expose these lies. With actual interviews with the most important people, especially Harry, her article will sell much better than this garbage and everyone will realize how the Ministry tried to discredit Harry.”

“That could work,” Luna said, “except the Prophet will never publish it. They’re firmly in the Minister’s pocket. They’re collaborators on the Rotfang conspiracy and their partnership extends to this.”

“Oh.” Hermione said, deflated, “I thought it would work. I’ve set it all up with Rita and she never said anything.”

“Of course she didn’t.” Luna said, “She’s not your friend.”

“She’s not my friend…” Hermione said, “but you are! That’s brilliant, Luna!”

“You consider me a friend?” Luna said, a smile breaking over her face, “I hoped, but wasn’t sure you thought so, too.”

“Well, you are one of the first two people I told I was engaged.” Hermione said, smiling back, “Do you think your dad would publish Skeeter’s rebuttal articles in the Quibbler?”

“Oh, he’d do anything to tweak the Ministry.” Luna replied, “He has opposed the Rotfang conspiracy from the beginning.”

“Great, then here’s what we need to do…” Hermione began.

With input from two original Marauders and with Arthur Weasley’s knowledge of the Ministry, they soon had a plan for maximum results. The timing was the biggest question. They wanted to let the Ministry commit fully to their opposition to Harry before they destroyed their credibility, hopefully leading to a change of leadership.

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After a whirlwind few days of packing and preparation, they were ready to begin the journey to Black Isle.

Sirius, Remus, Harry, and Hermione were all waiting in the parlor of Grimmauld Place as their friends began to arrive by floo. Neville arrived first, his punctuality part of his deeply ingrained manners. Then, minutes after their planned noon time departure, the Weasleys finally flooed in.

“You’re stepping on my foot, Ron!” Ginny hissed.

“Why did you stop in front of the floo?” he grumped back.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. “Are you sure this was a good idea?” Hermione whispered.

Oberon and Jane would be joining them later in the summer for a few weeks of vacation.

After a light lunch, they all managed to take a firm hold on the inflatable donut Sirius had enchanted as a portkey. Sirius tapped it with his wand and the familiar fishhook to the navel sensation whisked them all away.

They landed on a beach in front of a beautiful beach house. Accounting for the time difference, it was early morning on their arrival. With sliding screens pulled back and letting breezes blow through the entranceway, it looked very inviting. A double line of house elves waited for their arrival, quickly taking trunks that had been shrunk to tiny size and popping away to settle them in their accommodations.

Sirius looked at the students for the “Black Isle Summer Academy”, “You six get settled today. Look around, maybe hit the beach. Your training starts tomorrow and after that, you’ll get much less time to play.”

Ron groaned, but the rest didn’t make a noise, just nodding. They were each led to rooms all arranged in a block in one wing of the large beach house. The wing had clearly been designed for just this reason, to house all the children of the Black Family. The rooms were smaller than the giant rooms the adults would be staying in, but still large and luxurious. The windows had the same sliding screen as the rest of the house, allowing most of the wall to be slid out of the way and let the ocean breezes filter through. Magical ceiling fans turned endlessly overhead.

Harry looked through the drawers and the closet, noting his clothes were already unpacked and arranged just like he would have done, except perhaps neater. He changed, throwing on his trunks with shorts over and a light button up short-sleeve shirt and met his friends in the hall.

Hermione, Ginny, and Luna all wore sundresses. Harry could see the straps of their swimsuits at the neck. Ron wore his baggy orange swim trunks and a Chudley Cannons t-shirt. Neville wore baggy trunks and a shirt similar to Harry’s.

“So, do you want to look around?” Harry offered.

“Sure, mate.” Ron said, “I can’t believe the size of this place! You’re so lucky.”

“You’re right, Ron.” Harry said, “I’m lucky to have such a great Uncle, but you’re my best mate, so as long as I can come out here, you know you’ll be welcome, too.”

Ron seemed to consider it for a few moments, opening his mouth Harry expected him to continue on a jealous tirade, but was forgetting how much Ron had seemed to change.

“Thanks, Harry.”

“Yes, thanks, Harry.” Neville said, “I’ll have to have you out to the Longbottom chalet. It’s great for skiing around Christmas.”

The house was large, seemingly constructed almost entirely of teak. There was a library with a large pool table in the middle that Harry suspected they’d be spending time in, as Hermione would gravitate to the library and Harry thought learning to play pool with Ron and Neville sounded fun.

“Harry, I love the house, but are you all ready for the beach?” Ginny said impatiently.

They all followed the fiery red head out the door they’d come in, which led directly back onto the beach. White sand, blue water, and endless sky seemed to invite them. They walked down to the water, stopping just out of reach of the surf. Hermione reached into a bottomless bag she’d recently enchanted, bringing out towels for everyone. They laid the towels out and then started getting out of their clothes.

“Hermione, what are you doing?” Ron squeaked, looking over at his female best friend.

“Getting ready to get some sun?” Hermione said, confused.

“You’re almost naked!” Ron said.

“We talked about this already, Ron. This is a very normal muggle bathing suit. In fact, when my parents and I vacationed in France, a lot of the women didn’t wear the tops.”

“Top?” Luna said, holding up two triangles of fabric with a string between them. “Is that what this is?”

At that, Ron turned completely red and turned away from Luna. Even Hermione blushed, seeing the topless Ravenclaw. She and Ginny helped her get sorted.

“What? When we’re in Sweden, we don’t even wear suits.” Luna said, “They don’t really make sense, do they? Why do you need clothes if you’re going to be in the water anyway?”

“Well, maybe we can work up to that.” Hermione said, “For now, let’s stick with baby steps. I’m not sure Ron’s breathing.”

Hermione pulled out some vials of sun protection potion, advising the others how to apply it. With two fair redheads and a pale blonde, application was essential or there would be some painful burns. The boys and girls paired off and applied the lotion. Unlike muggle sunscreen, the potion would protect all day with one application and would vary its strength depending on the skin tone of the user.

Harry was drawing deeply on his occulomency to stay calm. Seeing Hermione in her bikini would have been enough to set his heart racing, but the surprise of seeing Luna topless had been a shock. He was a bit embarrassed about his suit, but felt better when nobody said anything. The girls were distracting enough and for that, he was grateful. He had to continue to meditate when he found himself rubbing lotion all over his fiancée. She noticed his hesitancy and teased him a little.

“Make sure you don’t miss any spots, Harry. You don’t want me to burn, do you?”

At lunch time, they returned to the house and had their second lunch of the day, cooked by the Black elves. Molly Weasley didn’t seem to know what to do eating food she hadn’t cooked. She kept trying to get up and serve, but the elves were scandalized and Sirius had to insist she sit and eat.

After lunch, the young people returned to the beach.

“How do we know there aren’t any sharks?” Harry asked, looking out at the water.

“Anti-shark wards.” Hermione responded, “I read about them in the book I got the other day. This kind of island house is pretty popular with rich wizarding families. The improvement in transportation really changes things.”

“Well, then, why don’t we hit the water?” Harry asked.

They all ran to the water and splashed and played. Eventually they started on impromptu game where they girls would sit on the boys’ shoulders and they would duel, trying to knock the other into the water with mild banishing hexes. Neville seemed to grow more confident with Ginny’s attention. They’d gone to the ball together and she’d been very impressed with him. He’d danced every dance she’d asked him to and was a very good dancer, trained from a young age as his gran expected him to be ready to fulfill his role as the future lord of an ancient and noble family. He was polite and was growing more and more handsome as he lost the baby fat he’d had early at Hogwarts.

As the sun went down, they started a fire and had the house elves bring food to grill by the ocean. After a dinner of grilled ocean fish and baked crustaceans, they all felt very content. Hermione leaned against Harry, feeling all was right with the world.

“Don’t get too comfortable, pup.” Sirius said, seeming to read their minds, “I would expect Moody here very early in the morning. You might want to get some sleep. It’s been an extra long day with the time change.”

Harry agreed and they packed up and headed back to the house. Harry changed into his pajamas and went next door to Hermione’s room. She was already in bed, dressed in a short nightgown. He got himself settled cross legged on her bed and she crawled into her accustomed spot on his lap, burying her face in his chest. They spent time practicing occulomency while the other tried legilimency. This was extremely difficult for them, not only because they were only barely trained as legilimens, but also because the nature of the bond made it difficult and sometimes even painful to block the other one out. Luckily, the two factors tended to cancel, one making it easier to defend thoughts and the other making it harder, so they thought it was probably still a helpful exercise. With constant training and reinforcement, their shields were becoming well-developed. Even Snape had been almost complimentary, advancing his praise from “adequate” to “acceptable for Gryffindors”. After their occulomency drills, they began to practice with their bond.

“I’m sure Sirius doesn’t care,” Harry said, “especially that you and I might be in each other’s rooms, since we’re engaged and bonded. I think he probably only gave us separate rooms for Mrs. Weasley’s sake, in case she came over here to visit, she needed to see we had separate rooms. What about the others, though? Ron and Luna, Ginny and Neville seemed to get along very well. You don’t think they’ll get themselves in trouble over in this wing away from adult supervision, do you?”

“We’ve already talked amongst the girls.” Hermione assured him, “They won’t get themselves into trouble. I’ve set wards to warn us if any adults decide to do a bed check.”

While they were talking, they were already gently pushing magic along their bond. The bond had continued to grow stronger, although at a much slower rate now that it was well-developed. Lately, they’d been experimenting. After Hermione had apparated to Harry’s side during the aftermath of the third task, they’d played with trying to sense where the other one was, even through protective wards or while wearing the invisibility cloak.

“Did you notice your wand responded to mine, even when I wasn’t holding it?” Hermione said, “Mine responded to you, too.”

“I did notice that.” Harry said, lazily flicking magic along their bond.

“Grr, you’re trying to distract me.” Hermione growled.

“Is it working?” Harry grinned.

“I’m the Queen of multi-tasking.” Hermione replied, “So yes, but no. Now, why don’t you try to cast a spell through my wand.”

“What?” Harry said.

“Try a light spell. Try to make my wand light up.”

“Lumos” Harry said, with no result.

They continued working on it and eventually Harry was able to create light from Hermione’s wand while she was holding it by pushing his magic through their bond while casting the spell.

“That’s it! I thought you could do it.” Hermione said, quickly duplicating the feat.

“What’s it good for?” Harry asked.

“I haven’t quite decided, yet.” Hermione answered. Now hush and kiss me.”

They’d grown better at this, too. Both could do amazing things with the bond, even while deep in a passionate kiss. Harry had learned he could send the bushy haired witch into an almost continuous climax with the right push. The first time he’d done it, he’d sustained the flow of magic too long and Hermione’s brown eyes had rolled back in her head and she’d passed out. Luckily, he’d waited before running for Madame Pomfrey and Hermione had awoken with no ill effects. Since then, he’d limited it to five or ten minutes at a time.

Their physical relationship had grown deeper, too. They’d gotten better at stopping at their limits, since they wanted to preserve that final physical act for marriage, given the strong magical boost they could gain through ancient marriage rituals as long as the right preconditions were met. However, those preconditions were very literal and Hermione’s research had confirmed that they could do anything but.

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The next morning, Harry awoke to a frightful noise. It sounded like a cat was being set on fire in a cabinet full of pots and pans. He rolled out of bed, drawing his wand. He sensed Hermione at his back do the same.

“What the f…?” Harry said.

“Language!” Hermione replied.

“You’re worried about my language?” Harry said, sliding towards the door.

Hermione sent him a thought as to what she was going to do, before she opened the door with a spell. Harry pointed his wand out the door as he slid out. Standing in the lit hallway was Senior Auror Moody with his wand raised, the source of the terrible noise.

“Professor Moody!” Harry said.

“I’m not your Professor, Potter.” Moody growled, “Never was, if you remember correctly. I am your instructor this summer and it’s about time you layabouts get out of bed. Now move!”

“Where?” Hermione asked, sliding out of the room behind Harry.

“The beach.” Moody said, “You’ll meet Mr. Ashdown there. You’ve got five minutes. He said every minute after that is another mile. I get you after he’s done with you.”

The young people all rushed around, throwing on workout clothes and lacing up their trainers. They rushed out the front door to the beach, only to see it was still dark out, the sun just starting to color the horizon. Everyone was relieved to realize they’d made it out in five minutes.

“You’re on time. Good, I don’t think you’d make it if you had to run penalty miles. Now stretch. I’ll show you how.”

They spent a few minutes with warm up exercises, running in place, doing jumping jacks, push-ups, and then stretched all their muscles, limbering up under John Ashdown’s supervision.

“Wizards are not like muggles.” He barked, while they stretched, “Your magic colors everything you do in life. At Hogwarts, you’re learning how to consciously apply it with spells. You’ve been working on that so hard, you may not have realized that’s not the only way you can use magic. Mr. Potter, name one of your first uses of magic.”

“Well… I had a few, but one time I vanished when my cousin was going to beat me up and appeared on the roof of the school.”

“Good example, Mr. Potter.” John said, in the same voice, “How did you do it?”

“I don’t know, sir. I just did.” Harry answered.

“Exactly. It was subconscious.” Ashdown explained, “You’ve all been likely using magic since then in even more subtle and subconscious ways. How many fat kids do you have at Hogwarts?”

They all thought about it and except for Milicent Bulstrode, Crabbe and Goyle, nobody was fat and even those three were just large.

“Probably nobody. How? It’s magic. Mr. Potter, I’ve heard tales of your Quidditch playing. How many times have you been hurt?”

“Tons of times, sir.” Harry ventured.

“How many of those times probably should have killed you?”

“Ummm… well, Madame Pomfrey has always been ready to heal me.” Harry said.

“Sure, she has, but if it weren’t for magic, you’d probably be dead long before you got to her. If you tried to get a muggle to balance on a broom handle hundreds of feet in the air while flying at high speeds, the muggle wouldn’t be able to stay on the broom, let alone throw or catch a ball.” John said, “Trust me, it’s been researched. You’ve been applying your magic to physical pursuits throughout your life. I’m going to teach you to do it more consciously and eventually, when you get good enough, you’ll be back to doing it subconsciously, but efficiently. The spell I’m going to teach you is ‘corpus firmum’. It technically means, ‘strong body’, but we’re going to focus on using it to channel magical energy to your body. You’ll feel what that feels like and once you’ve gotten good at it, you’ll use it to make your body stronger, healthier, faster, more damage resistant. You’ll gain more benefit from this exercise than you otherwise would. Eventually, I’ll teach you wizarding martial arts, incorporating spells into your fighting, but you’ve got a long way to go until then.

Now everyone, clear your mind, focus your power, and with this wand movement towards yourself, say ‘corpus firmum’.”

They all practiced until they got the spell right. Hermione, as usual, mastered the movement and pronunciation first, generating a golden glow that spread from her wand to her body before sinking in. Harry got it immediately after, learning from her experience. The others took longer, but everyone eventually got it.

“Ok, did you feel how the magic felt, from your core through your wand and into your body? More than the spell, that’s what I want you to feel, because I eventually want you to be able to move power directly from your core to your body without wand or spell. Now, let’s run.”

They ran along the tide line. Running in the loose sand was tiring. Running on the harder packed wet sand was a little easier, but still used a lot more strength than running on hard ground did. None of them knew how far they ran, but each one felt like they’d pass out when they ended up in front of the beach house again, the sun fully up now. Harry’s shirt was soaked through and he collapsed to the sand. Hermione quickly fell on top of him, pillowing her head on his sweaty shirt. Ron was on hands and knees, looking like he might vomit. Even Luna, normally imperturbable, looked haggard.

“Not a bad first run. We’ll have to go further tomorrow, but you’ve earned yourself a quick shower. Meet behind the house in 10 minutes or Senior Auror Moody will be harsh.” John barked.

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They all managed to shower, change into dry clothes, and meet behind the beach house in 10 minutes, although Ron was pulling on his shirt as he ran to the back. While they gathered under Moody’s watchful gaze, a few house elves circulated with warm rolls and pumpkin juice.

“Lord Black insisted you be fed. I think he’s gonna make you soft, but he’s the boss. Some of you are new to our lessons, so I have to catch you up.”

Moody proceeded to give the same lecture he’d given Harry and Hermione back at Grimmauld Place before he’d exhausted them with endless bludgeoning hexes. He soon had them lined up, casting bludgeoning hexes at enchanted target dummies. He told Harry and Hermione to start as they’d been doing during the last lesson while he walked the other four through his drill of slow, smooth casting in order to work towards smooth, fast casting. They could soon tell he’d been watching them when he finished getting Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville started, he came up to them.

“Granger, your wand movements are too prissy. Relax your wrist. Loosen up. The movement doesn’t have to be perfect, the pronunciation doesn’t have to be so precise. Eventually we’re going to be doing it without either, so don’t grow too attached.” Moody said, stumping around on his peg leg, “You, on the other hand, Potter, are sloppy. Loose is fine, but in order to make the wand movements smaller, you’ve got to know where your wand is at all times. Like this, make the movement smaller.”

Soon, they were all exhausted. Harry did notice he was getting better, though. His wand movements were smaller. He could say the incantation faster. His aim was better. Finally, only Harry and Hermione were generating any force when they cast, the others had gone past the point of exhaustion and only puffs of barely perceptible air were coming from their wands, no matter how hard they cast.

“Ok, enough.” Moody said, “Head back to the house for lunch. You’ll work with Lord Black, then I expect you back here.”

They slowly trudged back to the house.

“Are they bloody trying to kill us?” Ron groused.

“No, they’re not trying to kill us.” Harry said, “They’re trying to keep us from being killed. We want to be aurors, don’t we? This is how we get there and how we learn to beat Voldemort!”

Ginny gasped when Harry said the name and Neville paled.

In the house, they found places already set at the table for them. Sirius was sitting, waiting on their arrival.

“Oh, I’ve seen that look.” Sirius said with humor in his voice, “I had that look when I started auror training. Thought I didn’t have the energy to eat. Well, eat. You’ve got to regain your energy so you’ll be able to practice more after lunch. During lunch, I’m going to talk about wizarding culture. Hogwarts has a terrible curriculum, they expect you to come in knowing it and pick up what you don’t know in History of Magic, but Binn couldn’t teach… well, he couldn’t teach Hermione and that’s saying something. We’re going to talk about the covenant of the ancient and noble families and the start of the Wizengamot.”

Sirius led them through the very beginnings of the formation of their current form of government when the most ancient and most noble houses banded together to form the Wizengamot, all to protect themselves against both muggles and evil wizards. Many of the family names were familiar. It was a much more engaging lecture than they’d ever gotten from Binns.

Several hours later, after they’d eaten and listened to Sirius, they were sent back to the practice dummies. The downtime had been enough to regenerate their cores and they began with cutting hexes, starting again with the very basics and casting very slow, smooth cutting hexes at the dummies. Hours later, they were again exhausted. They ate a dinner at the same table at which they’d eaten lunch, but instead of Sirius, they encountered Professor Snape.

“Ah, the dunderheads I’ve been tasked with teaching occulomency.” Snape sneered, “I questioned the mongrel whether you lot even had minds, let alone whether there was anything in them to be protected, but he insisted and because he pays rather handsomely, I’ve agreed to try. Potter, Granger, please step to the side and practice against one another. I’ll be with you shortly.

For the rest of you, who has heard of occulomency?”

Snape ran through the basics of occulomency with the others, explaining what it was, how it could protect them, and beginning to teach them how to empty their minds. Once they had begun with their meditations, he moved over to the other side of the room, where Harry and Hermione were practicing against one another.

“I see you’ve kept up your practicing.” Snape said, “Perhaps you’re not as useless as I thought. Let us add something new. I will set a ball next to a cup on the table. I want you to levitate the ball into the cup. While you are doing so, I will attack your mind without warning. You must defend while continuing to try to levitate the ball into the cup.”

“That sounds hard.” Harry said.

“Hard?” Snape sneered, “No, hard might be defending your mind against the Dark Lord. Compared to that, this is easy. Once you’ve shown yourself up to this challenge, you’ll do it silently.”

Exhausted from the early morning wake up, the run in the loose sand, and the spell casting practice, their concentration was at low ebb, but Snape was a demanding task master. He used his wand as a baton, cracking Harry’s knuckles when he was able to slip past his shield.

“Potter, you haven’t been that open for months. Try again.”

After endless iterations, Harry felt like his head was going to crack, but he was consistently getting the ball into the cup and keeping the Potions Master out of his mind.

“Eh, perhaps you will conquer this, too. I am amazed that two such mediocre students would have made it so far, but luck has surprised me before.” Snape said, “You’re all dismissed. Meditate on your shields before falling asleep. We will pick up tomorrow.”

Harry and Hermione retired to Harry’s room. After a very brief occulomency meditation and an equally brief bonding, they feel asleep wrapped around each other. As they were drifting off, Harry had to chuckle as the distinct thought came across the bond that for once, even Hermione had too much work in one day.

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The next three days passed similarly. Their instructors seemed to be focused on working them into the ground. After a grueling session of piercing charms with Mad Eye, they dragged into the beach house, only to freeze as they could clearly hear an argument between Sirius Black and Molly Weasley.

“They’re children! You can’t expect them to work this hard during their summer break! Arthur and I have barely even seen Ron or Ginny.” Molly shouted.

“Madam, we discussed this before you came out. This is exactly the purpose of this visit and it is progressing exactly as I would have hoped. I warned you that I wouldn’t allow you to try to take over here and I will hold to that.” Sirius said, coldly, “These particular ‘children’ have been through things I don’t think we can fully imagine and are making me very proud with how they’re performing during a summer equivalent of the auror academy. If I have to expose them to one summer that’s less than fun despite being on a tropical island in order to save their lives when Voldemort… quit gasping, woman…tries to kill them, then I bloody well will!”

“These children should never have to worry about facing You-Know-Who!” Molly shrieked, “That’s a job for adults, for aurors. This is their time to just be kids. I won’t stand for Ron and Ginny to have their childhood stolen from them!”

“You’re more than welcome to take them home, if you choose. They are, after all, your children.” Sirius replied, the icy calm in his words clearly overlying a deep rage, “Of course, I don’t think they’d thank you for taking them away from a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, particularly if one of them wants to be an auror or perhaps if they want to be professional athletes. Do you know how much Mr. Ashdown charges professional Quidditch teams to coach their players on magical conditioning?”

Mrs. Weasley stormed out and it was all the young people could do to avoid being caught listening. They all looked at each other, nobody knowing what to say.

“Let’s get our food.” Ron eventually said, his face as red as his hair “It’s not going to make the rest of the day any better if we’re fainting from hunger.”

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With continued practice, they were making strides by the end of the first week of training. They were starting to see differences between them. Harry and Hermione obviously had huge magical potential and could continue casting long after the Weasleys were barely managing sparks. Neville, surprisingly, was also showing previously unknown power. His spells hit hard, often ripping the targets into pieces. He, too, was able to push himself after all but Harry and Hermione had stopped. Luna was almost the opposite of her public persona, approaching the training in an intensely focused manner in sharp contrast to the ridiculous non sequiturs she continued to verbalize. Hermione had more than once speculated to Harry that either her persona was a front or it was a sign of insanity. He’d had to simply shrug and had managed to avoid saying anything about how Hermione herself had been accused of being mental more than once. Ginny had reflexes secondary only to Harry, if that. She was fast, accurate, and could dodge almost anything. Her spells could hit like a freight train, especially if she were angry. Ron, while he would have shone in any other group due to above average power and above average ability, seemed to lag slightly in this group. He kept their spirits up and could always be counted on to amuse them and to bolster morale, but he couldn’t be said to be the strongest, the fastest, and definitely not the hardest working.

The weekend, they were allowed off, to rest and recuperate from the hard curriculum. Saturday, Ron and Ginny spent the day with their parents, exploring the island. Luna and Neville accompanied them, neither wanting to leave the growing closeness to their partners.

Harry had a bit of a lie in, waking to full sunlight. Hermione lay next to him, reading a heavy leatherbound tome.

“Mmmm… good morning, ‘Mione.” Harry mumbled.

“Morning, Harry.” Hermione said, bouncing her bare leg up and down where it rested on her other knee. She absentmindedly chewed on her lip, focused deeply on what she was reading.

“What have you found?” Harry asked.

“A book about designing new wards.” Hermione absentmindedly explained, “I never realized how much information was limited to House Libraries. This book alone has so much new information I wasn’t able to learn in the library at Hogwarts, even with access to the restricted area. The Blacks really were master warders. There are whole runes not even mentioned elsewhere that I’ve seen. The possibilities are endless…”

“Ah, well, endless possibilities.” Harry said, “I see endless possibilities in front of me, too.”

Hermione gasped, as he seized one such possibility in his mouth. She dropped the book, only coming back to it much later.

The two finally wandered out of their room in time for brunch, held on a wide porch behind the beach house. Remus and Sirius were already out there with Moody, Ashdown, and surprisingly, Severus Snape. Each of the men had a drink and a plate of food. Harry tried to guess what their drinks were, but had a bit of a hard time, as they were so different. Sirius’ drink was served in a coconut half and had an umbrella . Remus appeared to be drinking champagne in orange juice. Ashdown’s drink had the suspicious appearance of having a raw egg, which made Harry almost gag. Moody drank out of his customary hip flask. Snape, sitting uncomfortably upright and dressed in his customary full black robes, had relaxed enough to drink with the other men. He had a specialized glass with a bulb bottom, filled with a green liquid with a cloudy appearance.

Harry was stunned by Snape’s presence. He had sensed Snape hated Sirius more than anyone he’d ever seen him around. He only tolerated Remus. What had made him willing to drink with them? He’d have to ask later.

“Pup!” Sirius called, on seeing Harry and Hermione walking up, “Miss Granger.” Sirius continued, bowing politely to the young lady.

“Lord Black.” Hermione said formally, only ruining it at the end with a little giggle.

“Ah, how productive.” Snape sneered, “You awoke while there were still hours of daylight left.”

“Stop that.” Lupid said, pro-forma, “Have some breakfast. I will say the elves here make an excellent bloody steak.”

“The protein wouldn’t be bad for you.” John laughed.

They had the elves bring them their favorites and started nibbling while watching the others.

“Uncle Padfoot, Uncle Moony.” Harry began, as they relaxed after eating, “You must think it’s all I ever ask, but can you tell me more about my parents?”

Hermione patted Harry on the leg, but stayed quiet, wanting to hear.

“I knew your dad.” Moody rasped, “Taught him at the same time I taught this rascal, at the auror academy.”

“What was he like?” Harry asked, very intent on the conversation.

“He was a genius with transfiguration. He could have everything in a room animated and attacking you. Made us underestimate him, it did, because we tended to train in empty dueling rooms and while even there he’d have your robes choking you, it wasn’t as powerful a talent as when I first saw him in the real world. He was arrogant and sometimes jumped into situations he didn’t have a firm grasp of, yet, but he was a hell of an auror, despite how young he was.”

“Did you know my mum?”

“Not as well. I sometimes saw her around the ministry. I think she did some research work.” Moody said.

Snape dismissed himself. Harry thought by the look on his face he’d decided he couldn’t stand the company after all.

“Professor Lupin, do you remember what Lily did?” Hermione asked.

“You don’t need to call me professor, Hermione. I haven’t been your professor in a couple of years. Please call me Remus or Mooney. You can call me Uncle, too, if you want. We’re family.” Mooney said,

Yes, I remember what Lily did. It affects me to this day. She was a genius. I did well at Hogwarts. I was one of the Gryffindor prefects with her, so I had the chance to appreciate how truly bright she was. She was the brightest witch of our age and after graduating Hogwarts, she went on to do potions and novel charms research at the Ministry. She was one of the junior potion masters who invented the Wolfsbane potion.”

“She helped invent the Wolfsbane potion? That’s one of the most complex potions that exist!” Hermione exclaimed.

“My mum did that?” Harry said in amazement.

“She did.” Remus replied, “The only witch I have ever seen compare to her is your Hermione, here.”

Hermione blushed at the praise, but Harry just nodded, still absorbing the information.

“Your mother and father were the golden couple of Hogwarts.” Sirius said, “Of course, I preferred my role, the bad boy of Hogwarts. Your dad may have gotten your mum… but I got to try most of the others.”

Hermione gasped.

“Sirius!” Remus said.

“What?!” Sirius laughed, “They’re engaged. If they’re not ready to hear a bit of coarse talk, then maybe they shouldn’t be having a drink with their uncles. And maybe I need to chase them out of the same bed…”

“Sirius!” Harry said, “We’re not doing anything!”

“Well, we’re not doing that, at least.” Hermione said, blushing madly, but going for boldness, “Harry, if Sirius wants to tease, maybe he’ll have to learn we don’t tease easily. Or maybe he’ll have to learn I know over ten hexes to make a man impotent. Whichever lesson he decides on, I suppose is fine with me.”

Sirius looked shocked and Remus almost snorted his drink, he was laughing so hard.

“She showed you, you old dog.” John said.

“I think she’s more like Lily than I realized.” Sirius finally said, awed.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Harry and Hermione met in the hallway after changing into swimwear. Hermione had been researching the island in the Black Isle Master’s library. She’d been planning something as a surprise to Harry. When Harry met her, he noticed she was wearing a brightly colored batik wrap dress, tucked tightly around her chest, over her breasts, leaving her shoulders bare. She looked beautiful. She gave him a small folded package.

“This is a gift for you.” Hermione said.

Harry shook it out and saw a similar garment, but instead of bright colors, it was a deep masculine Gryffindorish red with the pattern in white lines.

“It’s called a pāreu. It’s a traditional Tahitian garment. You wrap it around your waist. You can wear it over your swimsuit.” Hermione explained.

“It’s great!” Harry said, “Where did you get them?”

“Apparently an ancestor of Sirius’ brought them back from Tahiti and never wore them. They were still new, wrapped in twine in the bottom of an old trunk. I…I found them when I was looking for a book.”

“You were looking for a book? There’s a whole library here!” Harry exclaimed.

“There was a book missing, though. There’s an index and one of the books I wanted was missing, so I went looking for it. Never mind that, do you really like it?”

“Yes, I really like it!”

Hermione stepped up to Harry and wrapped her arms around him. With a look of concentration, she focused and they disappeared.

Harry felt the customary feeling of apparition and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were standing on a crescent of sand at the edge of a deserted bay. A sheer cliff edge was at their back, rock wall towering over them. There was neither sight nor sound suggestive of other humans. If he didn’t know better, he would think they were the only two people in the world.

“Wow, where are we?” Harry said, wide eyed and open mouthed.

“We’re at Hidden Bay.” Hermione answered, “I found it on a map, then read about it in a journal. Apparently this was the second runner-up when the Blacks were deciding where to place their main house. They ended up deciding the cliff made it impractical, but I really think Sirius’ ancestor, Arcturus Black, couldn’t stand to ruin it by building on it. He hinted that his heir was conceived on this beach. It sounded really romantic.”

“Really?” Harry said, stunned by work Hermione had managed to put in, reading so many books and thinking about bringing him to the bay, while he’d barely had energy to even protect his mind before falling asleep each night, “I’m barely able to keep my eyes open after our practices and you’ve managed to find this in your reading? I so don’t deserve you.”

“No, of course you don’t.” Hermione said, trying to keep a straight face, but giggling, “And of course you’re tired. I know you don’t notice, but you put more energy into that training than anyone else. You’re so intense when we’re training. It’s your forte, just like reading and research is mine. I don’t let it surprise me when you manage the impossible, so you shouldn’t let it surprise you when I come up with these little finds.”

“Little find? You’re misunderstanding me… I’m amazed again at your genius. I’ll just let it go at that.”

“Now that we’ve come here and it’s everything we want, I want your help on a little project I have.” Hermione said, digging in her bag. Harry watched intently, half hoping her pāreu would slip. He wondered idly what she had under it, although he knew what he was fantasizing she had under it.

Hermione pulled out some tiny black stone blocks the size of dice. There were several handfuls of them.

“We need to place these around the bay. I’ve calculated the optimal placement and annotated them on this map.” Hermione said, handing Harry a parchment, “Here’s your copy. Apparate around to your ten sites and place the stones. Place it on the firmest surface you can as close to the position indicated on the map as you can. I think as sensitive as you’re getting to magic, you’ll be able to feel the right position if you concentrate. The magic will cause it to sink to rock, but it needs to be stable for the beginning.”

Harry did as Hermione had directed. He thought as he apparated around the bay about what she’d said. He realized that all the training they were doing wasn’t just teaching them individual tricks, but together, it was beginning to develop in them a fundamental understanding of magic that was much deeper than he’d had previously. He could almost trace the progression from the soul bond with Hermione, a phenomenon that had first opened Harry’s eyes to ‘feeling’ magic to auramancy, which led him to actually be able to visualize the relationships, then his intense immersion into arithmancy to impress Hermione but had started a new love of intellectual pursuits and allowed him to quantify some of the relationships he was beginning to see. Occulomency allowed him to quiet his mind enough so the chaos of his life didn’t interfere with his understanding. The obsessive training for the Tri-Wizard tournament and more recently for the summer defense curriculum had started to imprint the intuitive grasp of magic that had always been one of his strengths onto his mind and merge it with the more intellectual grasp he was developing with Hermione.

It was an epiphany as Harry realized this was the same path that Dumbledore must have walked during his day and even Voldemort must have trod, although in a dark and twisted way. He understood then, that if he’d continued as he had been before his connection with Hermione, he would never have become a wizard of the same magnitude as those two. He had an abnormally powerful magical core, sure, he could admit that to himself, especially now that he understood just how impossible driving off 100 dementors should be for a third year Hogwarts student who’d only learned to cast a corporeal patronus months before, but otherwise he had in no way measured up to the trajectory the other two had taken from an early age. Hermione was the one who had been following in their footsteps. It was her pursuit of knowledge that would have eventually put her amongst their rarified stratum of the most skilled witches and wizards in the world.

Hermione came to a realization as she apparated around the bay, placing her half of the ward stones. She was planning a massive magical construct. Before her connection with Harry, she wouldn’t have had the confidence to plan out something this ambitious on her own. She might have thought of it, but she wouldn’t have even considered acting on her thoughts until she’d spent most of a term rechecking her work before finally submitting it to a professor or several professors to approve. She would have basked in their praise of her academic work and her research, while needing their approval before she could let herself try to put it into place. Even then, she would have been unable to muster the magical power to actually activate this large a spell without months of effort or help from those with more power. Harry was the one who’d always had both the confidence and the magic power to do great things. She’d told him as early as their first year that he was a great wizard, but she’d realized since then how great he was. He was destined to be a legend, on a plane with Dumbledore amongst the light wizards or Voldemort amongst the dark.

Once they’d placed all the stones, they met back in the middle of the bay. Fortuitously, the volcanic rock of the island jutted up near the geometric center of the arc of the bay. Hermione looked at it from all angles and decided it was perfect.

“Harry, help me. Take your side of this stone and help me place it.” Hermione said.

Harry looked at the tiny stone, the size of a six sided dice, and started to say something. The old Harry would have asked why she needed help moving something so small, but he now realized that knowing how smart she was, he knew she wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. He also knew this was probably about more than just the physical placement. So he focused on their bond and pushed a bit of magic across to her. She gasped at first, wondering what he was thinking, distracting her when she needed to concentrate, but then she realized what he was doing and understood that the more merged their magic was at this central point, the more in tune they were with one another, the more seamless their combined working would be. She felt him reach for an understanding of the underlying ambient magic of the bay and the surrounding magical environment. Hermione pushed herself to both focus on her occulomency, allowing total focus on the demanding magical working, while leaving herself open to Harry and to the island. She felt as both of them hit that impossible balance together and move the stone to the perfect position for its purpose. Together, they released the stone and took their wands in their hands. Together, they returned the central keystone of her design to its original size.

Linked, Hermione realized she wouldn’t even have to talk Harry through the complicated working. She started and he followed without an interruption. Together, their magic flowed perfectly, Harry’s masculine magic, fiery and strong, but poorly controlled and sometimes destructive the perfect foil to her feminine magic, precisely controlled, rigidly focused, but sometimes without passion, icy when it needed fire.

Together they placed the impossibly complex and ambitiously powerful ward set she’d designed. Powerful wards to protect the bay from evil, to repel others when they wanted privacy, to repel sharks and other harmful animals, and even to keep the sand where it was when hurricanes tried to strip it away. She would have never had the power before, but now, between her newly enlarged core and Harry’s prodigious power, they were able to place the wards themselves, only lightly exhausting themselves with the working.

She looked at Harry when they were done and he looked back almost reverently. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes said, “Wow” clearly enough she could read it. She felt the same. That was the most intense magic she’d felt and she knew it was because of how deeply they felt each other and how deeply they were coming to grasp the magic around them.

Her lip quirked upwards in a small smile as she realized the easiest way she had to celebrate. She’d already planned it, but now as a reward to Harry, it would be even better.

Harry gasped as Hermione reached up and tugged at the knot on her pāreu and the fabric dropped to the sand, leaving Hermione in absolutely nothing. She laughed at the look on his face and ran to the water. He dropped his clothes the ground before chasing after. They played in the surf and kissed as the waves gently caressed them.

Eventually, Hermione led him back to the sand, again digging into her bag, but making even more of an absorbing picture as now instead of wondering what she had on under the garment, he could see it. She came up with a bottle of potion.

“If we don’t get this on, we’ll be as red as lobsters, particularly the parts that haven’t ever seen sunlight.”

They rubbed the potion on and spent the rest of the day frolicking on the beach, resting and regaining the energy from their hard work of training.

As the sun went down, they lay on the sand, cuddled against one another watching the sunset.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: I’m having so much trouble posting this, I’m going to keep this note short. I suspect there’s some character or layout issue that’s preventing it from uploading.

I like where this is going and am excited to keep writing if I can ever get this uploaded. I’ve been trying for a week.

17. Training

Chapter 17: Training

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or he’d be with his true love.

Sunday morning, they woke, dressed, and walked back to the porch. Arthur and Molly Weasley were there eating breakfast with Sirius and Remus. Snape, Moody, and Ashdown were nowhere to be seen.

“Harry!” Molly said, “We’ve been on this island for a week and I feel like I’ve barely seen you!”

Harry was pulled into a hug, which he endured patiently.

“The classes are taking up a lot of our time, but they’re going brilliantly. I feel like I’ve learned more than I have at Hogwarts… well, except for when Professor Lupin taught.” Harry said.

“That’s what Ron and Ginny said.” Arthur replied.

“They did say they’re being worked to death, though.” Molly started, “You’re just kids! You’re not aurors. You shouldn’t have to work so hard, especially during the summer. You’ve got this whole island, you should be exploring it, maybe playing some Quidditch.”

“We’re still having fun, but I’ve got a lot to learn.” Harry said, trying to end the conversation.

Hermione thought to herself that she probably should stay out of it, even though her impulse was to vehemently disagree with Molly Weasley. The hard work they were doing was so much more valuable than wasting the whole summer doing nothing! However, she suspected that while the Weasleys liked her and always tolerated her, Molly saw her as a bad example of how a young woman should behave and she didn’t want to strain that relationship any further.

“Where’s Ron?” Molly asked, “We should have put you boys in the same room. You would have woken him in time to come to breakfast. I better go get him.”

“Uh… no, mum, let me go get him.” Harry said, thinking there was a chance Ron was sleeping in Luna’s bed or Luna in Ron’s. If Molly caught them, it might end this summer vacation more quickly than he wanted.

Harry ran back to the bedrooms and knocked on Ron’s door. He heard a mumble from inside, but no real words, so he opened the door and rushed in.

“Ron, wake up, Mate!” Harry said, then saw who was sleeping in the bed and blushed, “Erm… hi, Luna.”

Luna was draped over Ron’s side, where he lay face down in his pillow. She wasn’t wearing a stitch and wasn’t completely covered by the blanket. He could only see her side, but her wide eyes were completely open and she gave him a little wave and a smile. Ron was going to kill him! Or perhaps Hermione would.

“Good morning, Harry!” Luna said, “You’re turning red. Do you have a flaming praetox infestation?”

Harry wondered again, as he had several times before, whether Luna was insane, a genius, or simply masking her vulnerability with a façade of odd behavior. When she winked at him, he wasn’t sure which option that supported.

“Mrs. Weasley wants Ron to come to breakfast. Do you think you could wake him, then grab Neville and Ginny? I’m not sure I’m willing to go into any more bedrooms this morning.”

“Why?” Luna asked, starting to get out of bed and making Harry blush even deeper, “It doesn’t smell funny, does it? I used a freshening charm.”

“Right, well, see you on the back porch. Breakfast. Better get back.” Harry said, fleeing out of the room. He gave a quick knock on Neville’s door and Ginny’s door, before hurrying back.

“Harry!” Mrs. Weasley said, “Where’s Ron? Where’s Ginny?”

“Er… they’re on their way. Said something about showers.”

“Why are you so red?” Molly asked, walking towards Harry and feeling his forehead, “You’re not coming down with a fever are you?”

Sirius was silently laughing and both Arthur and Mooney were smirking. Hermione grinned at him, clearly relieved he was back and she wasn’t alone with Molly.

Soon everybody showed up and they finished breakfast.

“What are your plans for the day?” Sirius asked, “Your last day of freedom before another week of hard work.”

Ron groaned at that. “Don’t remind me.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. They’d agonized last night over whether to show their friends Hidden Bay. They’d each taken turns deciding yes, they should and no, they shouldn’t. They hadn’t really ever come to a firm conclusion, but finished the discussion still very torn. It was very romantic that they had a secret place just for them that no other living person had ever been to and nobody else could find with the wards, but at the same time these were their very best friends. Intense training was only bringing them closer together as was the knowledge that someday they’d likely need to use the training together and thus were already comrades at arms.

Hermione took the lead, because while Harry was the leader, she was the planner and she knew he’d never tell for fear of offending her. He considered it her bay and her secret to keep or share.

“I think we’ll go to a new beach Harry and I found.” Hermione explained. “Maybe spend the day getting some sun.”

“Ok, but if it’s outside our beach here, you might need me to come with and cast a shark-repelling ward.” Sirius said, “Shark attacks are rare, but you don’t want to take the chance.”

“We already did yesterday.” Hermione answered.

“You cast a ward?” Remus said, sitting upright. That was powerful magic, normally well beyond a fourth year Hogwarts education. Of course, so was the Patronus charm. He should know not to be surprised by anything from those all these children and those two in particular.

“Oh, yes.” Hermione smiled, pleased that her ability was recognized, “We cast a combination ward of my design. You’re interested in runes, aren’t you? Here, I’ll share what I did. Accio, parchment.”

Both Sirius and Remus looked over her ward schema. They had both become interested in runes and wards when they were marauders. Their skill was significant, with the Marauder’s Map one example of their mastery, but not the only example. When they saw Hermione’s ward schema, they knew that she had matched their prowess and well before graduation.

“This is amazing!” Remus exclaimed, “You’ve clearly made it self-powered off the local ley lines. You’ve integrated more discrete wards than I’ve ever seen and made them synergistic rather than interfering. This is post-NEWT level work!”

“Who are you going to get to power it, though?” Sirius asked, “Dumbledore could maybe do it on his own, but if we’re going to actually place this without him, we might need to all contribute and that kind of coordination is really difficult. That’s the downside to this kind of combination ward and the reason wards are usually cast individually and layered on each other, even though that tends to weaken them through interference.”

“We already did it.” Harry said, casually. “It’s up.”

Both Sirius and Remus gave him a disbelieving look, but rapidly schooled their expressions. Dumbledore had been very explicit that while he knew Harry and now, by extension, Hermione, were very magically powerful, they wanted to minimize their knowledge of that. It might make him cocky and overconfident, something he could not afford in a conflict with Voldemort, one of the most powerful Dark Lords in history, who had started as the same kind of magical prodigy and increased his power through dark rituals.

“Oh, well, you never fail to surprise me.” Remus said, trying and almost succeeding to sound as casual as Harry, “Hermione, you truly are the brightest witch of your age.”

Both Molly and Ginny got a brief slightly sour look at that, but Luna, one of the few who should resent it, being near the same caliber of intellect, just smiled, happy to hear her new friend praised.

The children packed towels, blankets, umbrellas, but once the house elves caught them, they took over.

“Are we going to pack food? We should bring lots of butterbeer!” Ron said.

One of the house elves gave him a slightly dirty look, before assuming a more neutral expression.

“Just call for Timmy.” He squeaked, “We’ll bring you whatever you desire! Black elves are good elves!”

Hermione looked slight perturbed. Despite relaxing her opposition to house elves as she learned more about them, the very idea still rankled. She never wanted to take them for granted like purebloods did. Well, like most purebloods. The Weasleys, being poor, hadn’t had house elves in generations.

She brought a beautiful sea shell out of her bag. To her developed senses, it pulsed with constrained green and gold magic.

“Everyone gather around the portkey!” she called, then once everyone had a hand on it, touched her wand to the shell and they all vanished.

When they reappeared on the deserted beach, Harry almost kept his feet, but stumbled in the sand and went down in a heap with the others. He never could understand why in Quidditch, flying, and defense, his reflexes were legendary, but get him near a floo or portkey and he tripped over himself. Luckily, he landed on something soft. Unluckily, when he looked up, his face was resting on one of Ginny’s small breasts and she was looking down at him in shock.

“Uh.” They both blushed, but then decided to pretend nothing had happened.

Others weren’t so repressed.

“Neville, is that your wand?” Luna said dreamily, “I would have thought Ginny would have taken care of that for you before breakfast.”

Neville turned a shade of plum that Harry had only seen on Uncle Vernon.

“Luna, stop.” Hermione chided, “You’ve broken Neville.”

All the girls chuckled.

Just then, Timmy popped in. With a wave of his hand, several beach umbrellas were in place, the blankets were laid out carefully, and a magically charmed box that would always stay cold appeared, overflowing with butterbeer, pineapple juice, and small flavored ices. Timmy was gone almost before they could notice him.

“Well, I have to admit, house elves are handy.” Hermione said.

Hermione unfastened her pāreu to expose her blue string biking underneath.

“Harry, rub some of that potion on me.”

Ginny dropped her cover up and handed Neville a vial. “Neville, do me.”

Luna pulled her dress over her head. “Ronald, would you please?”

Nobody would have noticed anything, but Ron was making choking noises. Harry looked over, thinking he might have swallowed his food wrong, a real danger of the human food-vacuum, but what he saw was not a medical emergency. Luna was as bare head to toe as she’d been in bed that morning. He quickly looked away.

“Luna!” Ron hissed, “You forgot to put on your swimsuit!”

“Silly, I didn’t forget.” Luna said, “Like I told you before, I’m not used to wearing one. Most of the Lovegoods are from Sweden and when we visit there, we don’t wear them. I had to wear that ridiculous thing with legs and a skirt yesterday for your mother and I decided today I want to be comfortable. You’re all my friends and I trust you.”

“But you’re my girlfriend!” Ron choked.

“Of course, I am.” Luna said, smiling, “I’m glad we’ve finally straightened that out, by the way. What does that have to do with this?”

“Nobody is supposed to see you like this but me!” Ron said, his face red.

“Actually, if you were to ask Mum, not even you.” Ginny offered dryly, “Leave her alone. I better not catch Neville staring, but if she wants to swim in that, I think that’s her choice.”

Hermione hesitated, unsure of what she thought and what she wanted to say. A year ago, she would have been horrified by the situation, but now with a year’s maturity and with her mind bonded to that of a teenage boy, she was a lot more relaxed and realized her earlier feelings would have been hypocritical.

“I wasn’t going to say, but to be honest, I’ve done something similar myself, before.” Hermione said.

Everyone looked at her in shock, even Harry. Her reputation around school was a shy bookworm and nobody could imagine the rules-obsessed girl ever sunning nude.

“My parents and I went to the beach when we were vacationing in France.” Hermione said, sounding matter-of-fact, but Harry, feeling her emotions through the bond and knowing her as he did, could tell she was hiding embarrassment by remaining clinical, “My Mum wanted to go topless and she encouraged me. She said it was something I might not get the chance to do often and after all, I didn’t know anyone. It was a bit embarrassing, but fun. I don’t know if I could do it around people I know so well and will be around all the time, though.”

“Isn’t that strange?” Luna said, “That you’re comfortable showing yourself among strangers, but you can’t trust your friends that much? I think that’s strange. Or sad, I’m not sure which.”

There was silence as all of them thought about that.

“You know, I don’t have many friends.” Luna said, in a calm voice. Having thought about Hermione’s hiding of her emotions by being utterly calm led Harry to wonder if that might not be what Luna was doing, as well, “Even the Ravenclaws think I’m weird and Ravenclaw is where all the cleverest kids go, which you can imagine means they’re a few weird ones.”

Ron and Ginny were nodding at that description of the Ravenclaws.

Luna continued, “So I’ve never really had friends. You invited me along when I know you didn’t really intend to at first and you’ve really made me feel welcomed. I trust you.”

Her words hung amongst the group and the silence stretched almost to an uncomfortable length.

“I grew up under a stair.” Harry started. He shocked himself. He hadn’t talked about his childhood with anyone. Hermione only knew because she had access to the inside of his mind. His loyalty wouldn’t let him leave Luna as the only one vulnerable, though, so he jumped in.

“What are you talking about, Mate?” Ron asked.

“Shh…let him finish.” Ginny said, “Go on, Harry.”

“Everyone thinks I’m this big wizarding hero. Snape used to think I grew up rich and spoiled by my fame. That’s why he changed, when he realized I’d grown up in a cupboard, being treated like a freak by a bunch of muggles.”

He trailed off, too uncomfortable to go any further.

After minutes of silence, Neville started, almost whispering.

“My family thought I was a squib.” He said, his voice shaking, “My parents are heroes of the war, like Harry’s, but I don’t even know them. My Gran thinks I’m an embarrassment to their legacy.”

Ginny hugged him from the side.

“I’m a bossy bookworm. I didn’t have any friends at Hogwarts until someone said mean things, made me cry, and then saved me from a troll in the bathroom. If they hadn’t, I probably would have left Hogwarts soon after.” Hermione said.

“I’m sorry.” Ron said after awhile, “I was terrible. I…I was just hiding that I was terrified everyone would hate me because I was poor. I’d grown up thinking the Weasleys were trash, because I’d hear things from the Malfoys, the Crabbes, and the Goyles. I’m still getting over that.”

Hermione wrapped an arm around Ron.

“Emotional range is at least a soup spoon, now Ron.” She said.

Everyone laughed a bit at that and the mood lightened.

“At least I’m pretty normal.” Ginny said, “I grew up with a ton of older brothers and an over controlling mum, but I turned out ok.”

Everyone laughed at her statement and the tension was completely broken.

“Well, Harry, you better get my top, too, then.” Hermione said, taking a deep breath and untying her bikini top.

Ginny blushed as red as it was possible to blush, but joined in, ditching her top, then running into the water. Luna laughed and ran after her. Ron ran after Luna, whooping and throwing his trunks away.

“There was something I really didn’t need to see.” Hermione said, shaking her head at Harry and Neville.

They laughed, but then Neville stood.

“Then don’t watch.” He said, as he ran for the water, ditching his trunks along the way.

“Neville?” Hermione said, now truly shocked.

Harry shrugged. “He would cut off his arm out of loyalty. He always wondered why he didn’t end up in Hufflepuff because he’s got no talent. I always wondered why he didn’t end up there because of his loyalty. How brave does he have to be deep down for that to have been what placed him?”

Harry sighed and slowly stood. He reached out his hand for Hermione and helped her up. Then he dropped his Speedos.

“You know, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of.” Hermione said, her lip quirking upwards.

“Neither do you.” Harry replied, cheekily.

They ran to join the others in the water, hand in hand.

As they day went on, it became a lot more normal and there were a lot fewer blushes. Luna and Hermione ended up discussing the ward architecture for the bay. Harry was surprised at what a high level of discussion evolved. He was used to thinking of Hermione as some sort of prodigy-genius, but he sometimes forgot about Luna.

“You say you calculated the Koblentz force by integrating the ley line variables?”

Harry thought that’s what he heard. Even having learned arithmancy, he vaguely hoped he’d never talk like that.

“You clearly used auramancy to place the ward stones.” Luna continued and Harry’s ears perked up.

“You know auramancy?” Hermione asked Luna.

“You really don’t know?” Luna asked, looking at Hermione in surprise.

“Know what?”

“Well, I don’t know why you’d know.” Luna said, “Some of my house members tease me. In my maternal line, seeing auras comes naturally, from birth. It’s a lot like Ron’s talent with strategy, but with greater penetrance, so instead of every ten generations or so, most of us have it. It’s a bit distracting for a child. I don’t just ‘see’ them, I hear them, smell them, touch them. I can sometimes tell people are lying, because their aura shows it. The talent made my mum a really great spell designer… before. It also made her seem a bit strange. She’s lucky she found my dad. I always worried I wouldn’t find someone.”

“Harry and I are learning to see auras.” Hermione explained, “We learned the spell from the Headmaster and now it’s coming easier. I can shift into it without the spell now.”

“I wondered whether Harry could see auras.” Luna said, “Especially how beautiful his has always been, except for that terrible mark.”

“His curse scar?” Hermione asked.

“That’s more than a curse scar.” Luna said, “Has Professor Dumbledore never tried to fix it?”

“Fix it?” Harry asked, “I heard they tried to heal the scar when I was a baby, but you can’t heal a curse scar.”

“There’s a darkness that lives in your scar.” Luna said with a shudder, her body breaking out in goose bumps, “I’m shocked nobody has tried to exorcise it.”

Hermione looked at Harry, examining the scar. A determined look came over her face and Harry didn’t have to use the bond to know that one very bright witch was going to make that her next project.

They all gathered and watched the sunset from the beach. With a bonfire going, each couple crept into the darkness, away from the light of the fire. Harry and Hermione gently kissed. He stroked her body. From being naturally slender, she’d actually put on a bit of weight in muscle with the increased exercise they were getting on the island. Harry had also, still thin, still built for speed, but now with even more whip-cord muscle. Despite being slender, Hermione had very feminine curves, both hips and breasts that were bigger than Luna’s or Ginny’s, the former being built like a model and the latter with a more boyish athletic figure. Harry stroked those curves, continuing to explore the body that was becoming as familiar as his own. Sometimes he thought about how he would never have dreamed of touching her like this during the first two and a half years of Hogwarts, but how he couldn’t imagine not loving and touching her now. Hermione’s hands were busy, too. She was more aggressive, sometimes, more goal-directed. She could be competitive, not against Harry, but trying to insure he never thought of himself as other than blessed in the girlfriend department, while he always started slowly, methodically, and careful not to push past her limits. He worshipped her body and let her know it in so many ways, with loving glances and soft touches. Until she pushed him into more passion and then his body took over, which was worshipful in its own, insistent way.

Her bikini bottoms discarded on the sand, they rolled on the blanket, hands touching and kneading. Hermione was on top, snogging him senseless and enjoying the way he felt under her. She knew it was dangerous, because both of them were so aroused that his erection nudged into her slick labia insistently. Allowing the nudging was blissful, but both always kept a small part of their minds focused on not allowing their bodies to complete the connection, still avoiding intercourse. She slid down his body, kissing his sea-salt covered skin. She hesitated around his chest, swirling her tongue around his nipple. His cock pushed up against her just under her ribcage, giving her the idea of sliding just a little lower and catching him between her breasts. She didn’t have quite enough endowment to really wrap him in her cleavage, but she could come close and he didn’t seem to mind when she looked up at his face. He caught her looking and said, “If you’re going where I think you are… slide around here. I want to be able to reach you, too.”

She grinned at him, happily complying. His messy raven hair brushed against her thighs as the thick rope of bushy brown hair, tied back in a tail, brushed his hip. She groaned with the sensation of him licking her soaking hairless sex before dropping her open mouth down on him. They’d gravitated to positions of mutual pleasure. It was easier to pleasure each other, both give and take, as their magic flowed in a cycle between them. They sometimes enjoyed focusing on one’s pleasure, but it was more difficult for one to give and one to take physically, while remembering to both give and take magically, but to do otherwise led to a feeling of imminent explosion or immolation, as too much magic built in the recipient. The feeling of mutual pleasure, though, was perfect. She loved how his motions grew more frenzied, pushing his tongue to be more aggressive, sending her near the edge. Her motions became more frantic and her tolerance for his thrusting grew as her body focused on her upcoming release. She liked it when his restraint wavered, loved the feeling of her own limits being pushed, as a slightly submissive part of her, the same part that had always pushed her own needs down below whatever Harry needed, pushed her to welcome whatever he asked of her. Hermione’s awareness felt like it both shrank and expanded. Shrank in that the multiple trains of thought that usually processed simultaneously from the books she was reading, the spells she was designing, the plans she was making, all were paused, push back to make room for the awareness of now. Her body awareness grew until her entire capable mind was consumed with breathing, sucking, licking, bucking her hips, the feel of the warm sand beneath the blanket and Harry’s warmer body beneath hers. Her magical awareness grew as she handled vast quantities of pure magical energy without thought, with a year’s worth of experience routing forces that would burn a lesser witch to a cinder. The feeling of that kind of energy singing through her body, coupled with the purely physical sensations experienced by couples throughout time were almost too intense to experience. She began to come in waves, fluid dripping down her thighs and down Harry’s chin. She wasn’t quite a squirter, but she was just short of it. From being embarrassed by it in the earliest days of their bonding when she would soak her pajamas as well as Harry’s, she’d grown very accepting of it when she’d learned how much it turned Harry on to have this sensual feedback of how much she enjoyed their actions. Normally very verbally expressive, her cries of pleasure were muffled around Harry’s cock.

The three couples had gravitated to be almost equidistant from the fire, each seeking maximum privacy while not being too far away from the shelter. Luna rode Ron, not actually coupled, but rubbing her damp sex against his erection as he grasped her breasts in each hand, her thin blonde pubes almost invisible in the night. She felt the pulsing waves of magic from across the beach through her sensitive senses and it was enough to push her over the edge. Without anything blocking them and without much inhibition, the blonde cried out to the night sky her climax as Ron spent against her.

Ginny and Neville hadn’t progressed quite as far as the others, but had sought their own privacy for some serious snogging. They had gone further on the beach than they were used to, pushed to new intimacy by the sounds and awareness of the others. Neville’s shyness had long counterbalanced Ginny’s inherent boldness, but he lost his self-consciousness after the crazy events of the day and in light of the sexy noises from the others. Ginny had lost her bottoms, nude in front of a boy, in front of Neville for the first time, just as he was completely nude with her. With busy hands they achieved the same joy, the two shy teens muffling their cries into each others’ lips and tongues.

Harry was lost in the pleasure. His careful loving motions had disappeared and he bucked into Hermione’s mouth. Far from holding him back, she just steadied herself with hands on his backside and focused on breathing in pants as she rode his mouth. He was pushed halfway down her throat when he exploded, pushing her into a final climax as she felt his pleasure vibrating over their bond, offsetting whatever small discomfort he caused her. She swallowed almost every drop, losing just traces of his semen, as copious in his release as she was in hers.

They returned to the beach house late, going to sleep after working on their occulomency meditations together. It was going to be an early morning.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

The next morning started with the loud wakeup Moody thought was essential to setting the tone for their training. The students formed up on the beach, performed their stretching exercises, and cast the fortifying charm. After a week, several of them were starting to feel they were able to route some of their magical power to their body more naturally than with the incantation. Luna had always had an intuitive grasp of her magic and she had quickly understood how to use her magic to bolster her body, quickly developing her endurance and her body’s recuperative response after the hard work outs. Harry and Hermione were not always particularly intuitive wizards, Hermione especially, but even Harry had previously only been able to instinctively tap his powerful core under great stress or emotion, normally allowing himself to fall in the middle of the pack, happy to blend in. However, they were improving with the help of the bond, with auramancy, and with the focus that was a happy side effect of their growing mastery of occulomentic meditation. Neville, surprisingly, could tap into his core for physical strength and endurance, although speed and grace were not developing as rapidly. Ginny was just the opposite. She’d long been instinctively using her core to give her quicker reactions and reflexes, especially on the Quidditch field, much as Harry likely was. Ron’s only intuitive physical use of magic was to keep his metabolism high enough that he didn’t resemble Crabbe or Goyle despite eating enough for three growing boys. Every run was a slog for him and the exercise was only getting better slowly and with a lot of effort.

After stretching, John Ashdown spoke, “We’re not going to go directly to our run, today. First, we’re going to start the martial arts portion of our curriculum. Today, I’m going to teach you to fall.”

He walked them through the proper way to fall without harming themselves and to dissipate some of the force of blows or throws in the process. Then, they ran, running twice as far as they had the first day. At the end of the morning exercises, they were all exhausted and sore from the combined workout.

Then they joined Moody for interminable spell drills. As they had progressed, they’d been able to cast more accurately, more quickly, and for longer sessions. The others were benefitting from the growth of the cores, much as Harry and Hermione had been doing for the past year. Harry and Hermione, with their unusually large cores, were potent inducers of core growth, but all of them were well above average and their constant proximity was working as was their constant magical exhaustion, forcing growth.

Their differences continued to show themselves. Harry was the star. He clearly had two in-born talents, as a Seeker and as student of defense against the dark arts. Hermione was a dedicated student and benefitted from the connection to Harry, sharing some of his talents. Luna was also a dedicated student, intensely focused. She was very difficult for an opponent to read and had unusual insight, seeing through any tricks Moody threw at them. Ginny was fast, accurate, and now could cast powerful attacks other than the bat-bogey. Neville was a power house, throwing overpowered spells, often destroying his targets. From being called a squib to barely being able to pass the basic Hogwarts curriculum with his father’s wand, to now being able to lead the curve with his own handpicked wand was clearly very motivating to the boy. He worked tirelessly, often pushing himself to near delirium by the end of training. Ron was just the opposite. He was a fine wizard. He had above-average power and had been around Harry constantly, picking up an excellent foundation in DADA. His approach to any strategic application of force was masterful, exceeding even Harry’s. He was just lazy and would quickly show his temper when he received any criticism. He was among the first to stop when he began growing tired and the first to gripe as Moody tried to whip them along. He got through the first day, rested from the weekend, but was clearly angry at being made to work so hard.

Sirius continued to teach them about wizarding culture, wizarding law, and the Wizengamot. Neville was clearly the most knowledgeable, even outperforming Hermione, who was at a disadvantage as a muggle-born witch. Augusta Longbottom had been grooming Neville his entire life to take over as the Head of House Longbottom. Harry was shocked at how much he didn’t know. Even though he’d never paid much attention in History of Magic, he was sure they hadn’t covered this material in such detail, which Sirius explained was due to it being thought elementary. The historical connection between the Potters, Weasleys, Longbottoms, and Bones was a shock. Harry had history and with his great hunger for family, the fact that his family had a name and a history was very motivating for him to study something that usually would have bored him. Ron seemed excited to learn more about the Weasleys, growing to understand they were a house with tradition of honor that had never failed. From Ireland, they were never wealthy, but were constantly associated with the Potters, often bound in fealty to the Noble House.

Occulomency training was a stress. At the end of the day, with them all exhausted, Professor Snape would swoop into the room, his robe trailing behind.

“Have you practiced since I saw you last or are you just as unprepared as the last five times I met with you?”

“Empty your minds. Legilimens!”

They never knew where he would strike. Harry and Hermione were always given tasks to perform while they maintained their shields, since they were well ahead of the others. From balls in cups they’d progressed to gently dueling each other with stinging hexes, which also benefitted Snape’s plans, as it served as a mild distraction to the others. Severus would walk around the room and strike unexpectedly, penetrating their minds like a snake.

“Dunderheads!” he raged, “Not one of you can consistently keep me out of your minds. What use you’d be against the Dark Lord remains to be seen. Maybe he will trip over your bodies. We can always hope. Work harder tonight and I will see you tomorrow for our regularly scheduled waste of time.”

That night, they all meditated, working hard to improve, none of them knowing why they cared enough to work hard for the disagreeable man, but all striving to reach his expectations. Harry and Hermione, after bonding, dumped their excess core into the house’s wards, strengthening the already powerful defenses.

The next several days passed similarly. They all improved, but as they improved their instructors’ expectations also increased. Moody, in particular, drove them hard, ranting about how his training might keep them from dying in a fight with a death eater some day.

“You bleed in training or you bleed on the field!” Moody growled in a parade ground volume, “You only THINK you’re tired now. Wait until you’ve bled out about half what you’ve got in your body, you have more broken bones than you can count, and you still have to keep throwing spells to cover your partner who’s hurt worse. How do you think I got these scars?”

“Bloody mental.” Ron said, slowing down his casting as he fumed.

“He’s just trying to help.” Hermione whispered back.

“He’s right, it might be life or death next time.” Harry also whispered, “I hope I never face anything like I did in that graveyard, but if I do, I’ll be ready.”

Harry cast even faster, focusing so intently on his training he didn’t notice Ron’s ears growing redder and redder.

“Well, we’re not all the bloody ‘boy-who-bleeding-lived’!” Ron shouted, turning completely away from his targets, “We’re not all the ‘youngest seeker in a century’. By the way, you know how long I’ve wanted to be on the team, but you show up never having flown a broom and you’re on after your first time on a broom? We’re not all rich. We’re not all so powerful we can cast all day and still be throwing spells more powerful than I start off with. We don’t all get the girl I was starting to think I liked. We’re not all Harry bloody perfect Potter!”

Luna and Hermione both gasped at Ron’s rant, Hermione looking surprised and Luna looking surprised and betrayed.

“Cease fire.” Moody said to the others, who were already stopping what they were doing. He then just stood, watching the scene without interfering.

“I can’t get out of your shadow!” Ron yelled, suddenly out of nowhere buried deep in a fit of jealous rage, “First year, I get hit in the head getting you through the obstacles, but you’re the hero who defeated You-Know-Who! Second year, I’m with you until the end, face a Professor with you and almost have my memory erased, but you’re the bleeding hero who saves MY sister! You can imagine how that made me look. Third year, you and Hermione take off without me while I’m in the hospital wing and next thing I know you’ve got a magical bond and instead of the ‘Golden Trio’, it’s the magically bonded ‘Golden Couple’ and their old friend, Ron, who’s good enough to come up with plans to get you through the Tri-Wizard tournament, but not much else. My plans got you through the tournament, but I don’t even think you thanked me when you became the youngest Tri-Wizard Champion in history. I’m so poor I almost had to go to the ball in robes that were new when the last firstie was Seeker, but do you share your winnings with your Mate who helped you get through the tournament? No, not a Galleon. I don’t take charity, but given how hard I worked to help you through the tournament, I would have felt ok about sharing the prize with you and Hermione.”

“Ron, I…” Harry started.

“No, you shut up!” Ron yelled, “It’s not about you, now. I get to speak for once! Then we come to your own little private island. We practice defense all the time and huge surprise, you’re the best, just like you’re the best at everything else. Well, so I’m not the second coming of Merlin. So bloody what? You can shove your training and you can shove your being perfect and you do it all without me!”

Ron turned and ran away. Harry started to run after him.

“Harry, let him go….” Hermione said.

“She’s right, Harry. Let him calm down.” Moody muttered.

Harry, focused on his friend and his pain, ran after Ron anyway. Ron, on his long legs, had a good lead on him, but Harry was built for speed and caught him, just at the edge of the clearing, where they had some privacy, but were still barely in view. He caught Ron’s shoulder, trying to get him to stop so they could talk.

Ron wasn’t having any of that. He allowed Harry to turn him by the shoulder and used the momentum to bring his fist around in a haymaker blow towards Harry’s face.

Harry didn’t even notice the blow coming. Not consciously, at least. At his deepest level, though, he was a natural fighter. His left arm swept up, his forearm sweeping Ron’s arm upward, ending a hair’s breadth over Harry’s head, just enough for the punch to miss without any wasted movement. Meanwhile, his right arm flicked, dropping his wand out of his wand holster and into his hand. With another flick, he shot a spell at Ron, blasting him off his feet without a word or more than a bare gesture from Harry.

Seeing the broadest outlines of the confrontation from where they stood, the others ran towards them, except Moody, who stumped along on his peg leg.

Harry was shocked, his conscious mind having been cut out of the decision loop by his reflexes, he wasn’t even sure what hex he’d used and hoped it wasn’t one of the many deadly ones he knew. In his hands, even a bludgeoning hex could destroy target dummies, built to be tough and intended to last for many uses, at least against most wizards.

“I’m so sorry!” Harry said, kneeling down to look at Ron, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Fuck you!” Ron said his voice coming out nasally around a bleeding nose. It appeared he was hit by nothing worse than a relatively powerful bludgeoning hex to the face. Given that Harry normally had to use the utmost restraint just to cast a bludgeon that only came out almost as powerful as any other wizard’s reductor curse, it seemed that even Harry’s subconscious didn’t really want to hurt his best friend.

Ron stood and ran away. Harry just stood, watching, unable to even speak.

Hermione put her arm around him and rested her head against his arm.

“At least you didn’t kill him.” Moody said, “I don’t know what the boy was thinking. You can’t throw a sucker punch against a hit wizard without taking your life into your own hands.”

“I’m not a hit wizard.” Harry said numbly.

“You might as well be, son.” Moody said, “Take a second to pull it together, grab some water, then I expect you all back at the targets. Now move!”

“He’s just mad.” Ginny said, “He’ll get over it. You two are like brothers.”

“I can’t understand why he said what he said,” Luna said, sadder than they’d ever seen her, “maybe he’s got a heavy Nargle infestation, but I agree with Ginny. Once he gets some help with his Nargles, he’ll be back.”

Harry briefly wondered whether she was trying to convince him or convince herself.

Neville didn’t say anything, just clapped him on the back, showing silent support.

Harry focused himself, drawing deep on the same resiliency that had brought him through a childhood spent in a cupboard. He cleared his mind as he’d been trained and placed his current pain in a compartment, to come back to and deal with later. The compartment was so full of pain that another dram hardly added to the total. Stone faced, he returned to his training, returned to his war against Voldemort.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Ron ran to the guest house where his parents were staying. They were sitting on the porch. Arthur was tinkering with a muggle typewriter that would have been new mid-century, while Molly was knitting. Both looked surprised to see their youngest son.

“Ron!” Arthur said, “This is a surprise. I thought you’d still be training.”

“Ronald!” Molly shrieked, grabbing her son and forcing him into a hug.

“Mum, you’re choking me.” Ron said sullenly.

“We really didn’t expect you, Ronald. What happened?” Molly asked, her face a mask of concern.

“Nothing.” Ron said, “I just want to get some rest.”

“Ronald…” Molly started, then stopped as Arthur held a hand up.

“It’s ok, Ron. Get some rest. We’ll be here later when you’re ready to talk.” Arthur said.

Ron went to an empty room in the guest house with an attached bathroom. He put a cold washcloth to the back of his neck and pinched his nose shut with another. The bleeding stopped and he finished cleaning himself up. His face ached, his body ached, even his magical core ached.

“Ronald?” his mum’s voice came from the door, “Are you all right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ron said sullenly.

“I’m just worried for you.” Molly said softly, “You came home bleeding. Tell me what happened, maybe I can help.”

“We’re training really hard.” Ron said, “I’m working hard and I’m learning a lot, but Moody is just working us so hard. I try my hardest, but this really isn’t how I imagined spending my summer. We haven’t taken a break to play Quidditch, I haven’t played chess in I don’t know how long, it’s all just starting to get to me. Not Harry, though. He’s like Moody’s perfect student. He just keeps going and going, so when I complain, it just makes me look bad. I finally blew up today, because I’m not some machine and I don’t want to practice spells all day. I took off and Harry came after me. We argued and he hexed me.”

“He what?!” Molly shrieked.

Ron wasn’t sure what to say. He knew Harry had only hexed him because he had tried to punch him, but he didn’t want to make himself look bad in front of his mum.

“It was just a bludgeoning hex.” Ron said, “He didn’t fire it full force. I’ve seen his bludgeoning hexes punch holes in training dummies, so I know he pulled it, but it still hurt.”

“Harry hit you in the face with a bludgeoning hex?” Molly said, her face beginning to turn red.

“Yeah.” Ron said, “He did. That’s not the big deal, though. This training is just not for me. I want to go home.”

“Well, I think that’s a great idea.” Molly said, “We’ll pack and leave tonight.”

“Molly?” Arthur said, poking his head in, “Why don’t you bring Ron downstairs. Albus is here.”

“What’s he doing here?” Molly asked, surprised.

“I’m not sure. He said he thought Ron might want to talk to him.” Arthur answered, somewhat mystified.

The three walked downstairs where they found the Hogwarts Headmaster looking around the living room.

“Ah, just the boy I was hoping to see!” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, “How are you, my boy?”

“Been better.” Ron said, eyes downcast.

“I thought you might feel that way.” Albus continued, in his grandfatherly tone, “I have been thinking about your training and while I think this training may be just right for some of the others, I suspect it is not quite what you need. I have considered the options and think perhaps we could continue your specialized training instead. If your parents approve, that is?”

Ron looked up, his eyes hopeful. “That would be great, Professor! Mum, dad?”

“I thought you wanted to go home?” Molly said, confused.

“Not really.” Ron explained, “I just don’t want to be here. It’s not my thing and I feel stupid.”

“What would he be doing?” Arthur asked, more practically.

“You may have noticed he has a certain genius for strategy.” Dumbledore said, entering his lecturing tone, “I have surmised this is a rarely seen wizarding talent. It has manifested in the Weasley line before. I have begun to nurture it, but he has more to learn before he is ready to continue on his own.”

“Would this training be expensive?” Arthur asked, ignoring Ron’s embarrassed look, “We were fortunate that this training was paid for, but you know we can’t afford much.”

“No, this is my lark and such, will not cost you anything. I have a theory his talent may prove useful in the future and am willing to invest my own resources and effort to test my idea. There is no cost nor risk to you should I be wrong.”

Arthur looked at Ron. “You’re old enough to make your own choice.” He said carefully, “Just realize that you can’t quit this, go with Professor Dumbledore and then come back here in a few days when you miss everybody. If you’re just mad about something today, you might want to stay here.”

“No, dad, I want to go.” Ron said, “I need to find my own way and that’s not here. I might miss everybody and I bet I’ll miss the island, but I think I would be better off if I went.”

“Ok, son.” Arthur said, “Go with my blessing. If you have a long last talent from the Weasley family, learn to use it as best as you can. Know I’ll be proud of you as long as you do your best.”

“I know, dad.” Ron said, hugging his father.

“I’ll miss you!” Molly said, folding Ron into a suffocating hug next.

While they were hugging, Albus Dumbledore made a complicated series of flicks with his pale wand and Ron’s trunk appeared.

“You are all packed.” He said, looking at Ron. “We should go. It will be morning where we’re going and we should get an early start.”

Ron walked to the Headmaster, who touched a parchment with his wand and they both disappeared.

After the typical portkey sensation faded, they appeared in the Headmaster’s office. The night sky outside was still dark.

“I thought you said it would be morning?” Ron asked.

“This is not our final destination.” Dumbledore chuckled, “I have to ask you, though, have you continued to think about the question I asked you during your last session? Have you chosen?”

Ron became quiet. He had thought about it. He’d thought about it almost obsessively, because he realized his decision would have far reaching consequences for him. Thinking many moves ahead and realizing the consequences of his choices was a talent he’d shown in chess for years, but he had rarely applied it in his life, favoring a more emotional approach. Recently, with his training, his work with Harry and Hermione on the tournament, and just approaching maturity, he had realized he could use his talent on everyday questions, too, but some part of him resisted. He didn’t want to make the right choice in this case. He didn’t want to make the right choices in his life as he was already coming to realize he’d shown in his confrontation with his best friend.

“I have, but I don’t know what to say.” Ron said quietly, “I think one answer is the right choice, but the other is what I want. I don’t know whether to listen to my heart or my head.”

“Is it really your heart? Albus said, “Or is it your ego?”

Ron looked up at him, red starting to creep up his face, but then caught himself before he snapped at the man who might be the greatest wizard of their world. He sighed.

“You’re right.” Ron said, “I have decided. I want to study with Master Sun Wu.”

“Good.” Dumbledore continue, “To reassure you about your choice, I have spoken to both of your teachers and they agree that Master Wu is the better choice for your situation. That does not mean you might not continue to work with your other teacher at times, but Master Wu is the better choice for your primary instructor. Very well, are you ready to go?”

“Might as well, huh?” Ron said, stepping towards his headmaster again.

“Here, drink this.” The elderly wizard said, holding out a vial, “This will be a long day for you.”

Ron drank the potion. Seconds later, steam shot from both his ears and he felt revived. He reached out to touch a jade figurine of a lion and again felt the hook behind the navel sensation.

When they reappeared, Ron looked around. He saw a location he’d never been to previously, a garden of sorts. It was carefully constructed with not a single blade of grass, leaf, or rock out of place. They had appeared in a flat, manicured patch of lawn. In front of them, a small arched bridge led over a quiet brook. An elderly man sat on a bench in the distance. Ron continued to look around. As they crossed the bridge he noticed fat golden fish swimming underneath. Looking upwards, he saw mountain peaks all around them, snow capped and suggesting they were much higher than he felt. It was warm and comfortable around him, but given the surrounding scenery, he thought it should be frigid. He didn’t have much more time to think, because they’d reached the bench, where the elderly man read from a scroll. Now, closer, it was easier to see the man’s translucency.

“Master Wu.” Dumbledore said, bowing his head slightly.

The elderly Chinese man, the ghost, also stood and bowed his head crisply. “Master Dumbledore. I see you have brought my student. So he chose?”

“He did choose.” Dumbledore replied, “Much as you thought he would.”

“Very good.” Sun Wu said, “Ronald, you have passed my first test. You made the right decision. We may continue on in your training.”

“Yes, Master Wu.” Ron said, bowing more deeply.

“Come with me.” Master Wu, said, “Master Dumbledore, I thank you for this chance to train another. It has been many years and the need is great.”

“It is indeed.” Dumbledore agreed, “I will depart, if you or Mister Weasley have need of me, you know how to reach me.” With that, the headmaster walked back over the bridge to the patch of lawn. Apparently it was not done to portkey from just anywhere in this garden.

“Come along, student.” Master Wu said, “You will not listen well until you have eaten.”

They walked towards a large wooden building. There were heavy upright posts painted red supporting curved roofs of green slate. The walls between the posts were intricately carved scroll work. The building was many levels and people walked all around, quietly, looking studious. When Ron passed any other person, they became silent and bowed to Master Wu. The first to bow in this manner, a young man, received an assignment.

“Run ahead, Tsang, and tell the kitchen to prepare a light meal for Ronald, here.”

The boy bowed again and took off running, never questioning his directions. Master Wu again began walking, silently, allowing Ron to think. He had a lot to think about. From the brutal training to the fight with Harry to Hogwarts and here, it had all happened so quickly. He knew he was wrong when he swung at Harry, but he was so mad! Harry had everything he’d ever wanted. He was a powerful wizard without even trying. He was a legendary Quidditch player when Ron had wanted to be good at the game since he could remember and had practiced with his brothers when they would let him. He was rich while Ron was poor. He even had the girl who Ron had started fantasizing about, although he’d never been really sure what he’d felt before she was already with Harry. Ron had been drawing hard on his better nature for years to push down his jealousy, especially during the Tri-Wizard tournament. Making Ron look stupid and lazy during their training had been the last straw. What best mate does that?

He barely noticed when they reached a dining room. Food was set at a single place for Ron. While foreign, it was tasty and he quickly ate it.

“So.” Master Wu broke the silence when he saw his student finish eating, “Your first lesson will be an analysis of your choice. Reviewing our actions is often key to making right choices in the future and with every exercise in the future we will do this. Let us begin. Why did you choose me as your teacher?”

Ron was silent for several minutes, not knowing what to say. Some of his thought might offend the man...or ghost.

“Speak the truth!” Master Wu barked, startling Ron.

“Master Wu, I don’t know if I can. Some of it is not exactly anything you might want to hear.”

“I want to hear the truth.” The ghost replied, “I am over a thousand years old. Most spirits would have moved on long ago, but I still have a duty. My duty at this time is to train you and that is more important than anything else. You will not lie to me and you will not lie to yourself. If you do not see the truth, you will not be able to see the path. You will lie to your enemies and they will make poor choices to confront you, but you will never lie to yourself. Now speak!”

“Yes, Master.” Ron said, eyes downcast, “I really wanted to learn from Arthur. He was everything I want to be. King, hero, commanding legendary Knights, that’s what I want, but I can’t be him, because Harry’s already him. I tried during training with Harry to be more of that than Harry, but he was better than me at everything even when he wasn’t really trying. So I realized I’ll never be more than second fiddle to Harry. You explained how things worked when you were alive and you were the General to a great King. I thought maybe there would be more there that I could learn.”

“Ah, well done, student.” Master Wu said, “Although you are right and wrong, you have captured the central truth before making your decision, but your mind is still clouded. Perhaps a question for you will uncloud it. Had you heard my name before I taught you?”

“Yes.” Ron said, “I’ve always liked chess and strategy, so I read your name as one of the great generals. I even started to read your book.”

“My book.” Wu said, chuckling, “After a thousand years, how much of that is actually me and how much is from those who learned from me, even I cannot say, but you are right. Now answer my second question. What King did I serve?”

Ronald considered it for several minutes and finally shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.

“I do not know, Master Wu.”

“No, you do not!” Wu said, “He was a great man, but few know his name. Yet, I, who was his servant, am known by many to this day. My lesson for you is to embrace your duty, embrace your inner self. Once you truly find your duty, what you were made for, you will reach your greatest actualization of yourself by seeking it. If you find it and you meet your duty with all that you are, you will be great. If you seek to be somebody else, then you will fail and nobody will know your name. I think you have begun to see this yourself. You tried to be your friend Harry and of course you failed. He will always be himself more easily than you will. He will always beat you at that. You must be yourself and seek your own path, only then can you win.”

Ron looked at him, trying to absorb what he said.

“You have spent your life so far trying to be your brothers.” Master Wu said, “Longing to be head boy, despite the fact that you hate academics. Trying to be the Quidditch star, despite the fact that you were not born to be a seeker, like your brother Charlie, or a beater like your twin brothers. What you have failed to ask is the most important question: who are you, Ronald?”

Ron found himself nodding, although he didn’t know the answer to the question. Who was he? He didn’t know, but at least now he knew enough to ask the question.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Exhausted from their training, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna walked quietly back to the beach house. It had been a long, tiring day. Harry was weighed down by his sadness that he’d fought with Ron, worsened by the fact that Ron had never come back. They all walked into the dining room, planning to eat dinner in silence before their occulomency training.

“Harry Potter!” Molly shrieked, surprising the boy who had been looking at his feet while he walked, “I never imagined you would attack your best friend like that! What do you have to say for yourself?! How could you do it after all we’ve done for you! We’ve treated you like family and this is how you repay us?”

Harry cringed, flinching away. Molly’s look reminded him at some primal level of Mr. Dursley and he half expected her to take a swing at him.

“You don’t have anything to say? Ronald came all this way, giving up his summer for this ridiculous training just to be a good friend to you and you hex him? He’s like a brother to you!” Molly continued, sounding much like one of her Howlers.

Hermione saw Harry flinch and saw red. She drew her wand and stepped forward, her eyes blazing.

“You don’t know one bit of what you’re talking about.” Hermione said in a normal tone, but with rage dripping off her words, “So don’t you dare talk to Harry that way.”

“Don’t you point your wand at me, young lady!” Molly said, having stepped back in surprise for a moment, but quickly trying to recapture her momentum, “Maybe everything the Prophet said about you was right after all! You are a scarlet woman!”

At that, Harry looked up from his feet.

“Mrs. Weasley, Hermione is my fiancée and anything but a scarlet woman. Please don’t say anything else bad about her. You have been like family to me and I’d hate to destroy that over a misunderstanding. I’m afraid you must have heard part of the story about Ron. We did fight, but he swung first and I didn’t mean to hex him, it was a reflex after all this training. Is he around? I’d like to apologize.” Harry said calmly, fighting to restrain himself.

“He’s not here.” Molly said venomously, “He left with Albus Dumbledore, who has training more appropriate for a young man, not like this junior auror academy. You lot are much too young to be learning hexes like this. As soon as she eats, I’m going to take Ginny back home, where she can have a normal vacation.”

Sirius walked in then, cold rage on his face. He spoke softly to Harry, “Harry, why don’t you take the others out on the veranda, where you can eat in peace. I need to have a discussion with Molly.”

Harry grabbed Ginny, whose face was turning red, a clear sign of the Weasley rage rising, and ushered her out of the room before she could get started. They heard just the start of a conversation.

“Molly Weasley, that boy you’re yelling at is my godson and this is his home. He has faced things in his life that I would have never chosen for him, but I was not here to protect him. Now I am. You will not yell at him in my home. Is that understood?”

Her reply was cut off by Remus’ silencing charm.

“I’m sorry Harry.” Ginny started, the red fading until her face was just pink, “I’m so embarrassed about my family. First Ron acting like an ass, then my mum.”

“It’s ok, Ginny.” Harry said, “Ron was just mad. I know how stressful this training has been on him. It’s tiring for all of us. Your mum was just trying to protect her son.”

Hermione put an arm around Harry, resting her head against his shoulder. She would have once been mortified by yelling at an adult, but to protect Harry she would do anything, including killing, including dying. Yelling at Molly Weasley wasn’t even a drop in the ocean of her willingness to protect him.

“He’s gone.” Luna said, sadly, “I knew he was having a hard time, but I didn’t think he would leave!”

Harry had never seen the little Ravenclaw so sad. He truly barely knew her, but she always seemed so happy or spacey, it was unexpected to see her so down and he hoped to never see it again.

The other girls seemed to understand her mood better and surrounded her with hugs. Harry shook his head and with a glance at Neville, shrugged his shoulders.

“You all right there, Harry?” Neville asked quietly.

“I suppose, Nev.” Harry said, ready to carry on, as always.

“You know I’ll never leave, right?” Neville asked, “I’m with you to the end.”

Harry nodded, understanding what Neville meant. From being the laughing stock of Gryffindor, Neville was rapidly becoming an exceptional young man and his loyalty was unmatched. Here was a companion to the end and given his rapid progress in the training, a good man to have by his side.

“I know, Neville. Death Eaters had better beware.”

They ate and then Sirius came back out. He waited to get Harry and Hermione alone.

“I’ve squared things with that woman. I don’t know what she thought she was about, yelling at you in my house. Let me know and I’ll send her packing.”

“No, that’s ok, Sirius” Harry said, with a small smile, “Ginny is learning a lot and she’s really good for Neville. Even if Ron didn’t like the training, at least one Weasley will get something out of it.”

“I didn’t think to mention, the Headmaster stopped by here and left these.” Sirius said, holding out two envelopes.

Opening them, the couple found school letters for the upcoming year and paired prefect pins in Gryffindor colors.

“We’re prefects!” Hermione said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She wrapped Harry in a bone crushing hug, smothering him in a cloud of brown hair.

Once they broke from their embrace, Sirius clapped them on the back.

“Congrats, you two! I was never the type, but you should talk to Mooney. He was the male Gryffindor prefect our year and your mum was the female, Harry. You’re following in some very big footsteps, but I think you’ll do great.”

That bit of excitement carried them through the painful occulomency training, setting Hermione’s feet inches above the ground and her happiness pulling Harry slightly out of his funk.

“Hey there, Harry.” Hermione said later, when they went to bed, “Don’t let Ron get to you. You know what he’s like. This is the same as how he was when you were picked for the Tri-Wizard tournament.”

“I know, but I keep expecting him to be as loyal to me as I expect my best friend to be.” Harry said, then became silent, seeming lost in thought. Eventually he looked straight into Hermione’s deep brown eyes, “I guess I always expect him to be as loyal as you are. “

Hermione gave him a shy smile, wondering again how he could melt her heart so easily. She would have been by his side forever even if he’d never said a word of appreciation, but that one word was enough to make her heart overflow with love for him.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

The training continued in much the same fashion. With Ron gone, the feeling of concentration, of focus, was palpable. Ginny had not let Molly pull her from the training, although the argument was audible all the way to the main house.

From exhaustion and being almost unable to continue, they each caught a second wind and their progress was amazing. Each of them could cast any of the basic spells Moody had drilled them with as easily as breathing. Each of them had minimized the wand movements to the point where it looked like almost just a flick for any combat spell or shield. Harry and Hermione had come the furthest, casting silently almost every time. Neville had made the greatest gains, benefitting immensely from his own chosen wand and some dedicated attention away from the mockery of the Slytherins. He was confident and powerful, a far cry from the old Neville. Ginny and Luna were also forces to be reckoned with, which might come as a surprise to someone who just saw the external appearance of the slender little girls. Luna had never quite recovered from Ron’s departure, her absentmindedness now reminiscent of someone looking for something or someone missing. She would frequently look up at stray noises as if expecting someone, but then drop her eyes when he never appeared.

“All right, there.” Moody said, facing his trainees who were lined up on the range, “You’ve made real advances this summer. We’ve drilled the basics into you more than I have ever done with any cadre of students. There is a reason for this. The next stage of your training will be under Filius and he didn’t want any bad habits for you to unlearn. He will integrate what I have taught you. For now, though, I want to test you. Across from you are ten training dummies. I want you to destroy all ten, as fast as you can. The only catch is you can’t repeat any hex until you’ve run through all of them I’ve taught you. Understood? Be careful. They may fight back.”

Luna took the line first. Moody blew a whistle and the absent minded girl dropped her wand into her hand with a purpose. A flick and she blew off the first dummy’s arm with a reductor curse. Another flick and a hole appeared in his head from a piercing charm. A cutting curse took the head off the next. A flame curse set the next on fire. She blocked a stunner that shot from the next dummy and her return freezing curse ended it. A bludgeon to the face followed by a bone breaker caused the next one to shatter, the internal framework exploding. A swish and flick forced all the simulated organs to shoot out the belly of the next, landing at the base in a twisted mess. Soon, the blonde was done with her dummies, a triumphant look on her face.

“Good job, Luna!” Ginny cheered, before stepping up herself.

Much like Luna, Ginny finished off her dummies competently. Moody hid his smile. Many trained aurors weren’t up to these little girls’ standards. Of course, those were aurors he hadn’t trained.

Neville stepped up and his dummies were quickly dispatched. He might be a touch slower than the two girls, but his spells hit like an anvil dropped from a flying broom.

Hermione took her turn. She continued to cast with the precision she had long been known for, but now had some of the easy grace that had been Harry’s contribution to their partnership. Her spells were powerful and varied. Moody had implied they were to only use the spells he’d drilled them with, but once she’d used all those, instead of starting over like the others had, she started using obscure spells or spells of her own creation. One dummy inverted itself, the inside suddenly on the outside. Another seemed to disappear, sucked into a dark black bead that had appeared near its center before disappearing with a pop. Another was hit with a golden lightning bolt, bursting into flames and exploding from the power.

“Nice.” Moody said, “You’ll have to teach me the black hole spell.”

Hermione nodded, hiding a grin.

Harry stepped up. He centered himself with a deep breath, waiting for the whistle. He was nervous, always was, but once the whistle blew he knew his nerves would be gone and only the task would remain.

Moody signaled him to start. The others watched as Harry’s wand danced, never stopping. Spells flew from the tip, hammering the dummies. He stuck with the basics, unlike Hermione, but his basics were perfection. The reductor turned the first dummy into dust, barely hitting before the piercing charm hit the second, the cutting charm decapitated the third, a bludgeoning charm hit the fourth with reductor level force, causing the head to explode, flame charm took the fifth, freezing charm the sixth, banishing charm sent the seventh flying into the backstop as the eighth went into orbit after being hit by a levitation charm, a disarming charm followed by a bone breaker hit the ninth, and the tenth was destroyed by an organ dispelling curse. Heartbeats after the whistle, the ten opponents were no more, none of them having time to attack Harry. Moody watched in pleasure. Here was his masterpiece, the student he’d been waiting for. Although he was nowhere near being an auror, having a complete ignorance of basic investigation work, as a hit wizard, he was umatched. Speed, power, agility, accuracy… he would soon be at the top of curve for the Ministry trained wizards. Moody wondered how much further Filius would take him.

“Very good!” Moody smiled, “You all pass. Now, keep practicing and remember…”

“Constant Vigilance!” they all shouted back in unison.

“You may be trainable, after all.” Moody said with an even bigger grin, “Dismissed!”

They all walked to the house and ate a much more leisurely lunch than they were used to.

“I wonder how Ronald is getting along.” Luna asked plaintively.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Hermione offered.

“Probably playing chess.” Ginny said.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Ron watched the horses thunder towards him, carrying mounted knights with lances lowered.

“Fire!” he cried and the longbowmen unleashed arrow after arrow. Horses fell and knights died, chisel pointed arrowheads buried in their armored bodies. As the horses closed to a pre-planned distance, he called for a retreat, sounding panicked. His men stepped back, well trained. As they shuffled back several paces, the sharpened stakes they were masking became visible, stopping the charge definitively. The bowmen rushed back in with spike-like stilletos, to end the lives of the injured knights.

“End Agincourt.” Came Master Wu’s voice. The battlefield faded from the magical simulation room.

“Well done.” Master Wu said, “You did better than the original. Your flying ambulances made the difference, cutting your mortality significantly. The improvement to morale was significant, leading to more effective forces. I don’t know that you could have done much better.”

“Thank you, Master Wu.”

“Thanks are unneeded. You have earned the praise.” Wu said, “Your talent is a natural talent. You really need no more instruction from me. You will need to continue to educate yourself. Remember, the education of the General is infinite, as you saw from your flying ambulances. You must understand food supplies, economics, medicine, politics, human motivations. For you, you must constantly seek inner balance. You will always struggle with your weaknesses, but if you do not win that inner fight, you will not win any outer fights. I have the utmost confidence in you.

I have something for you. You are the most recent graduate of this school, which exists only for one reason and has existed for thousands of years to train those with your unique talents. Your performance is something to be proud of and I recognize you as my apprentice with this.”

Ghosts were usually unable to touch solid objects, but Ron had ceased being surprised by his master. Master Wu extended forward an intricately designed sword. It was straight, clearly intended to be used from afoot. The guard was greenish, jade colored, but was clearly of some much harder material. Engraved on the blade, in the same greenish material, was a dragon.

“You will be like the dragon. You know the treasure you must guard.” Master Wu said.

“I know my duty.” Ron said, bowing, “I understand my role.”

“Then you have learned what I have to teach you.” Master Wu said, bowing.

Ron returned his bow, tears gathering in his eyes at the thought of leaving.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

On Black Island, the students knelt on the carpeted floor of their training room. Behind them, a black haired wizard swept into the room, robes billowing behind him. A sense of icy dread seemed to follow him.

“My hopeful occulomens, guard your mind!” Snape said from behind them and then struck.

He rebounded from the shields protecting Neville’s mind. They appeared in his mindscape much like the wards surrounding an ancient pureblood house. Even the house was obscured by the hazy wards. Snape smiled a chilling smile. That was the one he thought most likely to break, maybe with his genius instruction, these dunderheads had learned after all.

Again he struck, bouncing off a shield that looked like armored knights, shield to shield. He quickly stepped back mentally, as one of the knights tried to skewer him on a spear. This shield had more than passive defenses. Maybe he’d made more progress than he’d thought!

He tried a third student, but quickly became confused. He wasn’t sure what her shields looked like, but even attempting to penetrate her mind left him with a pounding headache. He wondered again whether that was what insanity looked like, but it was certainly effective.

He gathered his strength for the next attack. He knew he’d need it. In his mind’s eye he saw tower walls, etched with glowing runes. He slowly approached, looking for a gap, but none offered itself. He tried to slide a tendril of his mind between the stones, but the blocks were without gap. The runes were glowing more brightly and he could feel offensive magic building, readying to incinerate his mind should he try more aggressively. He stepped back, still within his mindscape and saw another tower, very similar, and equally protected. The two stood side by side, close enough to protect each other should they need to. He knew neither would yield to him.

“Very good.” Snape said, then kicked himself for the unintended praise. “For total incompetents you have managed to exceed my low expectations. You’re dismissed. Mr. Potter, a word if you please.”

Harry stayed with Hermione by his side.

“I thought I asked for Mister Potter?” Snape said silkily, “I know you two have lately been confused about who is whom, but surely you still realize you are not Mister Potter?”

“Don’t be an ass.” Hermione said, “Say what you intend to say.”

Professor Snape blinked, surprised. Maybe the bookworm had a backbone after all. She reminded him of Lily in that moment, which prompted him to bite back his rebuke.

“If you want to stay, you must lower your defenses. I must read you before I decide to trust you with this.” Snape hissed.

Hermione nodded. Snape read her briefly and then smiled.

“I am surprised, but am glad you stayed. Perhaps I am not the one they should be most afraid of, after all.” Snape said with an evil smile, “I have a gift for you, Mr. Potter. You have done well in my training, much to my surprise, and I want to reward you with a little trip.”

“Where to?” Harry asked.

“It’s a surprise, Mr. Potter.” Snape said, “Do you want your present or not?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, deciding whether to trust the professor. They eventually decided that Dumbledore trusted him, so they would too.

“Ok.” Harry said, “Let’s go.”

“Very well, Mr. Potter.” Snape said, his smile becoming more frightening, “You know what to do.”

He held out a portkey and each touched it, before disappearing.

They reappeared on the curb of a suburban neighborhood. The house was well known to all three.

“Why are we here?” Harry said, his voice carrying a deep anger.

“For closure.” Snape said, “Follow me.”

He made some complex motions with his wand as he strode towards the door. Wards sprang up around the house, to hide their presence. Just before he reached the door, a simple flick unleashed the reductor, blowing the door off the hinges. He strode through without stopping.

“Sonorous” he said, “Muggles! Wake yourselves. I mean to have words with you.”

Moments later, Vernon came running downstairs, a shotgun in hand. He pointed it at the three of them.

“Freaks! Here, have what you deserve!”

He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

“How tiresome.” Snape said, snatching the gun from Vernon’s hand with a flick of his wand. Another flick threw the man onto the couch. Another flick and two more people bounced down the stairs, eventually landing on the same couch.

“Oh, no.” Petunia said, her eyes wide, clearly recognizing Snape. Her eyes continued to move, much like a horse in a panic, quickly seeing Harry, “Harry, save us, this awful boy…”

“Save you?” Snape whispered, “You expect your nephew to save you? After what you’ve done to him? At least I’m glad to see you remember me. If you remember me, then surely you remember Lily, your sister? If you remember Lily, you remember Harry, her son, your nephew? If you remember all that, then how did you fail to remember how you were supposed to treat him?”

“Look here, freak!” Vernon started.

“Silence!” Snape raged, “You will not address me! I brought Harry here to have a conversation with you. His fiancée wished to accompany him, so I allowed her to. I saw in her heart that she would enjoy meeting you as much I plan to. You’re probably not smart enough to realize, but that should terrify you. For now, I’ll leave you to your nephew. Hope he does not call me back.”

Snape walked to Harry and took his elbow. He spoke quietly in his ear.

“I was a friend to your mother and met Petunia before I went to Hogwarts. Seeing what I saw in your mind… I can’t tell you the rage I felt and the sorrow that I had not stopped that happening to Lily’s son. I know what it is to be abused. I brought you here to bring you closure. Whatever you need to bring you closure, whatever it is, you may take it. I will not think less of you and Albus will never know. I will wait for you.”

He strode away into the kitchen, near enough to listen, but far enough to give them privacy.

Hermione walked to Harry’s side and put her arm around him, quietly lending him strength. He looked into her eyes, “I didn’t expect this from Snape.” He said in a whisper.

“No, neither did I.” Hermione said, “This seems to have affected him deeply for some reason. I agree with him that you need to get out your emotions regarding your childhood. This is not quite how I would have done it, but here we are.”

Harry walked further into the living room, sitting in a chair facing his aunt, uncle, and cousin. The conversational setup of the living room was perfect. He took a deep breath and explored his feelings for a moment, before he started.

“Right, then.” Harry said, “So why did you treat me like shit?”

“See here, boy…” Vernon started.

“I could set you on fire with a flick of this stick.” Harry said icily, “And now that I’m no longer bound by the underage statutes, nobody would say a word, especially when they learned how you’d treated me. So I suggest you think about that and answer my fucking question.”

Vernon’s mouth opened and closed, looking like a guppy. Petunia grayed and her eyes rolled, looking more and more like a panicked horse. Dudley slumped, fainting from fear. The smell of urine was suddenly noticeable.

“Well, I’m waiting.” Harry said, tapping his wand on his knee. Green and gold sparks bounced off.

“I hated your mother.” Petunia said quietly, “I loved her, but then she got that letter from that school. She was prettier than me and now she was magical, too. I had nothing and she had everything. She went away and left me to be the ugly one, the useless one. Then she was killed and I hated your father for that, for taking her from us. I hated both of them and then you were left on our door and I hated you, too.”

Harry let that soak in. His occulomency was allowing him to control himself, but barely.

“You hated my mum for being better than you. You hated my dad for loving her and taking her away from you, so you hated me? All I ever wanted as a child was for you to love me. Then all I wanted is for you to not hit me. What did I do to deserve any of that?!”

There was silence as the two adults just stared at him in fear. Dudley was still unconscious.

“Think about that.” Harry said, finally, “I’ll expect an answer when I get back. I’m going to show my fiancée around my childhood home.”

Harry stood up, taking Hermione’s hand. They walked upstairs and she saw the bedrooms, one of which had multiple locks, locking it from the outside, with a cat door to allow things to be pushed inside.

“Your bedroom?” she asked, horrified.

“Sort of,” Harry replied, “It was really Dudley’s second bedroom. I stayed there after I got my Hogwarts letter. They were afraid people would learn where I was really staying.”

“Show me.” Hermione said, already knowing to some extent from the bond.

Harry walked her back downstairs and turned at the end to a little doorway. A swish and it opened to show a flat mattress with a faded blanket on it. She looked around, seeing the tiny living space, with spiders making webs in the spaces between the stairs treads above. Inside, in childish scrawl, it said, “Harry’s room”. Hermione sobbed to think of her beloved Harry growing up under the stairs. He held her and she realized what an amazing young man he was, to comfort her in the face of her grief over his abuse. After staring in for several minutes, they eventually walked back into the living room and sat down. Harry sat on the chair and Hermione sat on his lap, glaring at his relatives.

“So, why did you treat me like you did?” Harry asked.

“Because you’re a freak, boy!” Vernon said through clenched teeth, “Kill me if you want, but I treated you like I did because you’re a freak! Only a freak like you would threaten those who fed and raised him out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“There’s no goodness in your heart.” Harry said with finality, “You’re right, though. I’m not evil enough to hurt you. I don’t know if you knew, but my father was rich and he left it all to me. If you’d treated me like family, I would have shared it all with you and you’d be rich. Instead, I’ll share with you, like you did with me, and you’ll have nothing but my hatred.

Dudley, some day you may have children. I want you to know that I’ll wait for that day. If you treat any child like you and your parents treated me, I will take them from you and you will never treat anyone like that again.”

A pulse of magic signified an oath made.

Harry stood and began to walk away.

Hermione also stood, but she didn’t turn away.

“I’m not as forgiving as Harry and you do not deserve his forgiveness.” She hissed, “Here is my revenge. Tonight you will feel all the pain you inflicted on Harry. Every emotional pain, every physical pain, you will each feel the pains you visited on that little boy. Then, for the rest of time, you will never find sleep in this house in any room but the closets. Yet you won’t be able to sell it. Nobody will offer a quid for it. You can walk away if you want, but nobody will ever buy it until each of you is dead. I hope you enjoy it.”

She made an exceedingly complicated series of wand movements, chanting latin phrases until a glow settled into each of the Dursleys and into the house, before fading.

She followed Harry into the kitchen, where Snape sat at the table, drinking tea.

“Did you do whatever you needed to do?”

“I did.” Harry said.

“Yes, we did.” Hermione said, with a feral grin.

“Very well.” Snape said, tossing the cup into the sink, where it shattered, then he gazed directly into Harry’s eyes, “Be certain. Be very, very certain. If I had known, I would have stopped it, despite the fact that I hated your father, but I didn’t, so I had to do what I could.”

Then, so low Harry later wondered whether he really heard it, Snape said, “Let it go. Don’t become me.”

They swept out of the house past the wailing Dursleys. As they stepped over the threshold, Snape turned to look at Hermione with a smirk.

“Nice spell work, Miss Granger. 100 points to Gryffindor.”

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A/N: This is a chapter full of uncomfortable bits for me as a novice author.

1. The sex scene is a bit of a reach for me. I enjoy it and don’t think I took any of my characters where they didn’t want to go, but I purposefully took a step a bit further with that. Hopefully it’s well received, but no matter, I’m happy I went there.

2. Ron’s training is stilted and definitely summarized. That’s intentional, as I’m not particularly interested in the training of a strategic genius. If you want to read one excellent story, although a much different setting, I could recommend Ender’s Game. Imagine whatever training you think appropriate for Ron to improve his self-control and advance his strategic genius.

3. Snape is one of my all time favorite characters, but it’s much easier to keep a truly dark character dark if they’re mysterious. The more you show them and their motivations, the more difficult it is to keep them interesting. So I took a couple risks with Snape, but feel like his love for Lily and his hatred for muggles who abuse children would have taken him this way. I’d welcome thoughts as to whether you agree. He will continue to be a part of Harry’s training, focusing on the mind arts and the darker parts of defense against the dark arts.

Next chapter will take us back to Hogwarts. Ron will have to mend fences with his friends and we’ll meet the new DADA teacher.

18. Back to Hogwarts

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, JKR does.I don’t make money on my writing.Quotes and paraphrases from OOTP.

Chapter 18: Back to Hogwarts

Harry awoke feeling incredibly well rested, despite falling asleep so late.He hadn’t dreamt at all, at least no nightmares, and found he was fairly at peace about the surprise visit to theDursleys, despite the fact that he would never have initiated what was essentially an assault.

Hermione draped nude over him might have helped him sleep.She was better thanocculomencyfor protecting his dreams.Waking to her still asleep was a rarity and he savored it.He blew enough of her hair out of his face so he could look down her body in the early morning island dawn.Harry lingered on the dimples in the small of her back, one of his favorite parts of the view.It was nice to be able to stare and not worry about getting “caught”.The view was wonderful and combined with the feeling of her right breast pressing against hisribcage,it was enough to add to his normal morning erection.He wasn’t sure if she waswakingon her own or if the hardness poking into her thigh was enough to wake her, but she made a small noise as she started to stir.

“Mmmm…” Hermione said, glancing up his chest at Harry, blushing, but trying to act saucy, “is that for me?”

“It’s always for you.” Harry said with a smile.

She just stared at him for a moment.

“Very smooth, Potter.”Shesaid,the corner of her mouth quirking upwards, “You’re getting better at that.”

“Thanks.” He said with a grin.

Hermione pushed herself to her elbows, ignoring the sheets that were pooled around their feet.Harry enjoyed the show, watching as her breasts hung free, at least as much hanging as a pair of teen breasts could do.She drew her right leg under her and swung her left over Harry’s hips, ending up straddling him.Her legs were smooth against his hairy ones and her sex was smooth against him.He wondered if she’d kept it that way even before they were dating, but he’d never gotten around to asking her.He liked to imagine she’d worn it like that for herself before she’d ever suspected anyone would see the result.

“You’re playing with fire, Miss Granger.” He murmured, enjoying the feeling of her moistening folds sliding over his morning erection.

“Oh, so you’re the responsible one, now?” Hermione teased, “You’re the one who’s decided to follow the rules?”

“Well, it is for a good cause.” Harry said, “More magical power if we wait until we’re supposed to….”

“That’s a stupid rule.” Hermione pouted, “Besideswhoneeds more inches when you’re already hung like a porn star?”

Harry gaped at her.She kept a straight face for several minutes, going so far as to cock her head to the side, pretending to be curious about why he was looking at her like that, but eventually she couldn’t continue and started giggling, ending up with her face buried in his neck.

“Ok, ok, I imagined that would be something Seamus would say.” Hermione giggled.

“Hey!”Harry exclaimed, “Don’t be thinking of Seamus when you’re in bed with me.”

Hermione just shook her head as she raised her upper body off Harry and resumed rocking her hips.

“Ok, ok.Let’s concentrate on what we’re doing.We need to finish up, so we can pack.I can’t believe today’s the last day on the island.”

They lost themselves in the wet friction, neither of them taking long to finish.Hermione lazily continued to ride out her aftershocks enjoying the naughty feeling of rubbing her quim against the hot sticky mess.Contraceptive potions and charms were definitely a good thing, she thought.

Hermione had no sooner relaxed back into her position with her face buried in Harry’s neck when the door opened.

“Harry?Hermione?”Luna’s voice reached them quietly.

“Crap, I forgot to ward the door!” Hermione whispered, dragging the sheets over them, then saying more loudly, “We’re here, Luna.How can we help you?”

They’d taken the blondeRavenclawunder their wings since Ron’s disappearance.Normally unflappable, his departure had saddened the normally cheerful young woman.Both Harry and Hermione had tried to make up for it with their friendship and the closeness had definitely drawn them closer together.Which could be frustrating, given that the girl had few to no boundaries to begin with.

“Have you packed?” Luna asked, coming into view around the door.She was in a thin nightgown, which was barely opaque.She was barefoot, as she often was, and her dirty blonde hair had obviously not yet seen a brush that morning.Harry was simply thankful she’d worn anything.She sometimes didn’t think to, whether due to being raised by a widowed eccentric newspaper publisher or due to her own absentmindedness and total lack of social convention, but it was still a little funny that the one time she came upon them nude was one time she would have remembered to dress.

“Mostly, Luna.”Hermione said, speaking for them both.Harry couldn’t bring himself to talk to the girl while he was completely naked and his spunk was still cooling on his skin.

“Good.” Luna said, “It would be easy to forget something.What are you going to do when we go back?”

“Well, we’re going to spend the night with my parents, Luna, and then havethemtake us shopping inMuggleLondon to get some new clothes for the term.They’d planned to spend their holiday here with us, but new requirements for electronic patient records forced them to cancel and work to get it all done, but they missed me.Plus, all the exercise on the island has been good, but I’m afraid my old clothes aren’t going to fit.Then we’re going to go toDiagonAlley for some last minute school shopping now that we have our lists.We’re going to spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron, sinceit’scloser to the station.”

Luna seemed to forget what she’d come in to talk about for a minute and she just stared at Hermione while she chewed on her lower lip.It was actually a habit of Hermione’s she’d picked up.She’s started to imitate the slightly older witch in small ways as they grew closer.

“Do you think he meant to run away from me?” she whispered, before breaking into tears.

“Oh, no, Luna.”Hermione said, her own eyes getting a little watery.She watched the younger girl and when it was clear this wasn’t going to be a tiny breakdown, she sat up, mindless of her own undress and pulled the girl into a hug.Luna sobbed on Hermione’s bare shoulder, seeming totally unmindful of her surroundings.

“Why did he leave?Everything was going so well!I’ve had a crush on him forever and he finally liked me back.I’ve never really had friends and now I have you and I had a boyfriend.It was all going so well.I really thought he liked me!”

“Shhhh….” Hermione said, rocking the slender blonde, “It’sok.He did like you, Luna.I’m sure he still likes you.If you’re going to be around Ron, you’re going to have to realize, he sometimes forgets other people when he gets hung up on his own problems.”

“So you don’t think he stopped liking me, you just think he forgot me?” Luna asked, her tears stopping temporarily.

Hermione considered the question, wondering whether any answer to that question would be safe, before deciding on the truth.

“Yes, Luna, that’s exactly what I think.He forgot you and your friendship, just like he forgot about ours.I’m sorry, but I know from experience that he’ll be back.This is a long one, but he seemed to be building up to it after he got so mad at Harry after he was picked for theTriwizardtournament.”

“The question is.” Harry asked, “When he comes back, will you still be interested in him?”

Luna looked up at him, drying her tears on the sheet.

“Yes.” She said in a small, quiet voice, “It would take a lot more than that to make me not feel anything for him.”

“We keep deciding the same thing.” Hermione sighed, “He’s agit, but he’s ourgit.”

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They showered and dressed after sending Luna back to her own room to do the same.They met the others for breakfast, coming into the dining room only to find one of the Black House Elves, ready to tell them to go out on the beach.On the beach there were tables set for breakfast and most of their teachers were already there.

“The sleepers have awakened!” Sirius said in a grandiose voice.

Remus just shook his head at the reference.

“You’ve finally arrived.”Snapehissed, “Joy.My day is complete.”

“Good morning to you, too, ProfessorSnape.” Harry said, laughing. “Professor Moody, Professor Ashdown.”

“Morning to you.”Moody said with a grunt.

They ate and chatted with their teachers, pushing off the time when they’d have to say goodbye to what had been a very special summer.

“Well, Potter.” Moody said, clunking over on his peg leg to sit next to Harry, “I’m proud of you.You really worked hard this summer and led your friends to work hard.It isn’t easy to meet my standards and the men who are trying are normally quite a few years older than you, but you’ve exceeded them.We barely even acknowledged your birthday and I know that must have been difficult for you.”

Harry didn’t say anything.He’d only had a few birthdays that had actually been celebrated.This summer’s had actually been a pretty special birthday compared to most.

“Anyway, I wanted to give you something.Remus suggested it when he found out I had it.”

Moody held out a flat package wrapped in plain wrapping paper.Harry took it and was about to open it, but remembered who had handed it to him.He passed his wand over the package, casting non-verbalrevealingspells, looking for tricks or traps.Only then did he begin to unwrap it.With a smile up at Moody, he explained,

“Constant Vigilance, you know.”

Moody smiled, which in itself was a horrific sight with the complicated tracery of scars that crisscrossed his face, but his eye revealed his genuine pleasure and Harry smiled back even a bit bigger at his mentor.

Inside the package, he found a framed photograph.When he looked at it, it was clearly a wizard photo, because the people moved and waved at him.Two, in particular, waved very enthusiastically.He recognized his parents from other photos and from the Mirror ofErisedin his first year.He could also recognize Sirius, Remus, Moody, and Professor Dumbledore.One couple looked enough like Neville to convince him it was probably theLongbottoms, who he’d never met.

“Who is this?” Harry asked.

“There’sme.” Moody said, unnecessarily, “Dumbledore beside me,DedalusDiggleon the other side, Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken with her entire family.That’s Frank and AliceLongbottom, poor devils, better off dead than what happened to them.That’sEmmelineVance, you’ve met her.You knowLupin.BenjyFenwick, he copped it, too, we never found more than bits of him.Shift aside there.” He added, poking the picture to make the photographic people shift, “That’s Edgar Bones, Amelia’sbrother,they got him and his family, too.He was a great wizard.”

“Was Edgar Susan’s dad?” Harry asked.

“Susan Bones?Yes, I think so.” Moody offered uncertainly, “SturgisPodmore…CaradocDearborn, vanished six months after this was taken, we never found a body…Hagrid, you can’t miss him…ElphiasDoge, you’ve met him, too…GideonPrewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes.Aberforth,Albus’ brother…DorcasMeadowes,Voldemortkilled her personally…Sirius with short hair, this was when he was a newAuror, and next to him, thought that would interest you!”

Harry was pleased to see his parents, but it was startling seeing them standing next toWormtail.

“Well, that’s one of the few pictures of the original Order of the Phoenix.” Moody explained, “That was taken during the first war againstVoldemort.I thought you might like a copy, so you could remember that your parents faced him beforeyou .When the going gets rough, remember you’re not the first who’s opposed this darkarse.”

Harry was silent, just staring at the photo for several minutes.He absorbed the picture, seeing his parents together, not much older than he was now, and it moved him.After the recent intense training, he felt a deep kinship with his friends and he wondered if that’s how his parents had felt with these others, including Moody.It was frightening to realize how many of the original Order had died in the fight againstVoldemort, but that knowledge stiffened Harry’s resolve to keep giving his all to his training.Only if he were at the peak of his potential could he end this and protect those he loved.Especially Hermione, like his father had tried to protect his mother, but had been unable.

“Professor Moody, thank you.” Harry said around the lump in his throat, his eyes shining.

“It’s nothing.” Moody said brusquely, more accustomed to battlefield relationships than casually expressed feelings, but clearly affected by the emotion pouring off the son of two of his earlier students and protégés.

Later, ProfessorSnapegestured to Harry.

“Mister Potter.” He whispered.

“Yes, Professor?”Harry asked cautiously.

“You understand that how I behave towards you in school will not change significantly?”

“I do, sir.” Harry said quietly.

“Very well, then.”Snapesaid, leaning back, “Carry on.”

The five remaining students gathered their belongings after breakfast and met on the front porch of the house.Sirius stood there with twoportkeysin the form of velvet ropes, one red andone gold.He handed the red rope to ArthurWeasley.

“Tell me when you’re ready.” Sirius said, looking at Arthur’s group, theWeasleysand Luna.

“Right then, Sirius.” Arthur said politely, “Thank you again for letting my children participate.”

“Think nothing of it.” Sirius said, the side of his mouth quirking upwards, “Hope your boy found what he was looking for.”

“I’m sure he did.” Arthur replied, “Well, we’re off.”

TheWeasleysdisappeared.

“Our turn.”Sirius said, “Rather, your turn.I’m going to send you ahead with Remus.I’m going to stay behind for a day to close this place back down to caretaker status forawhile.”

Remus, Harry, Hermione, and Neville all grasped the golden rope.With a tap, Mooney activated thePortkey.

Suddenly appearing in the drawing room ofGrimmauldPlace, Harry barely stumbled.His traveling skills were slowly improving.Remus shrunk the golden rope into a thread and placed it in a small box on the mantle.

“Whenever you’re ready, Neville, feel free to use thefloo.” Remus said, “Harry, Hermione, I understand you’re going to the Granger house?”

“That’s right.” Hermione said, “Are you going to meet us inDiagonAlley tomorrow?”

“We’re hoping to, Hermione.” Remus grinned, “Not that we haven’t seen quite a bit of you both this summer, but we’re going to miss you.It’ll be nice to catch up on some rest, but it’ll be tough reverting back to lonely bachelors after being with family all summer.”

“Maybe give you a chance to do some hunting.” Harry grinned, “If you know what I mean?”

“Well, we’re not all as randy as teenagers,Pronglet.” Remus laughed, ruffling Harry’s already unruly hair and causing all three teens to blush.

“I’d better be going.” Neville said, knowing Mr.Lupinwas only being playful, but dreading that word of his behavior might somehow leak back to his Gran and embarrass him or worse, Ginny.

“See you inDiagon, tomorrow,Nev?” Harry said.

“Wouldn’t miss it, Harry.”Neville responded seriously, before tossingfloopowder into the fireplace, “LongbottomManor!”

Neville disappeared in greenish flames.

“I need to speak to you, Harry.” Sirius said.

“Ok, we’ve got some time before we need to leave.” Harry answered.

“Since you brought back the news thatVoldemortis back, Dumbledore has reconstituted the Order of the Phoenix.He couldn’t have done that if you and Hermione hadn’t survived to tell us thatVoldemortwas back, so well done.We’re doing what we can to hamper the Death Eaters, not least of which is training you.Our main obstacle so far is Minister Fudge.”

“Minister Fudge?” Hermione said, “I had the feeling he would be trouble and we’ve read some copies of the Prophet that you brought to the island.We’ve got a plan for dealing with thateventually,it’s just not quite the right time, yet.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow at that, “Well, whatever you’re planning, I would coordinate it with Dumbledore.He’s the most knowledgeable of all of us about the inner workings of government.Fudge has decided to attack him out of worry thatAlbusis trying to undermine him so that he can take over as Minister in Fudge’s place.He’s got the Prophet insinuating thatAlbusis senile and too trusting of you.Meanwhile, you’re being portrayed as a lying, attention seekingprat.”

Harry shook his head, tightened his jaw, and his eyes blazed, but he didn’t say a word.This was a very different, more-controlled Harry than before he’d bonded with Hermione and almost-masteredOcculomency.

“When you go outside, you’re going to see the consequences of this smear campaign.You’ll probably also see it when you get back to Hogwarts.Don’t worry, just keep your head down and don’t play into it.Only react if you must.We don’t need to feed their image of you as a poorly controlled rebel.”

“Ok, Sirius.” Harry said, nodding his head, “I won’t stand for being attacked, though, especially not for Hermione being attacked.IfMalfoypushes me far enough, I’m going to challenge him to a duel by the Pureblood laws.I think given how much I’ve learned,one duel might be enough to stop any other challenges.”

“You’re probably right, but don’t underestimate Draco, either.You’ve had special training now, but he’s likely gotten special training every summer, given his family’s wealth and inclinations.”

“Well, it’s never done him any good.” Harry offered, “He may have the training, but he doesn’t have the discipline and I think that’s kept him from really benefitting, otherwise he would have beaten me every time we faced off and Hermione couldn’t be at the top of the class, despite beingMuggleborn.”

“Probably true.”Sirius said, gripping Harry’s shoulder,thenruffling his hair.Harry ducked his head.Most teen boys might have been embarrassed, but Harry had longed for family for so long he would never be embarrassed by shows of affection.Early on, he’d been unsure of how to respond, but with Hermione’s help, he’d become more open and eventually very grateful for affection.

“Ok, you two.Get going.” Sirius said, “You don’t want to be late to dinner with the in-laws.”

Harry hesitated.

“Are you ready, Harry?” Hermione asked, already knowing how Harry was feeling.

“Not sure about that, ‘Mione.” Harry said, unconsciously drawing himself up taller, “Are you sure we shouldn’t let your parents put me into the guest room?We are both only 15 years old.”

“I’m sure.” Hermione said firmly, “We’ll start out how we plan to continue on.We’re engaged and you know we’d just end up sneaking back and forth anyway.I’d rather not lie to my parents, they’ve always told me to be open with them and now I’m calling them on it.If they don’t like it, we canflooback here in no time.”

She didn’t hear his response, something about having the invisibility cloak if she changed her mind.

“The Grangers” Hermione called, throwing in a handful offloopowder and disappearing.

Harry followed closely behind.

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Appearing in the living room of a modern home, Harry again managed to keep his feet, an unprecedented run of grace for him and magical travel.He could already see Hermione caught up in the arms of her father, Oberon.

“Daddy!” she squealed, as the big man picked her up.

Harry grinned and walked to her mother, his arms outstretched, “Mum.”

“Ah, Harry, you know I love it when you call me that.” Jane said, smiling back at her future son-in-law and drawing him into a hug that left him with no doubt where Hermione had picked up her hugging habits.

After they broke, he shook hands with her father.

“Sir.”

“Harry.” Oberon said, “You don’t have to call me sir, but welcome.”

“We’re going to have Chinese take-out.” Jane said, “You’ve got plenty of time to get settled before it arrives.Hermione, would you show Harry the guest room?”

Hermione blushed, but stood straighter and gathered up her Gryffindor courage.

“Actually, mum, I was planning to have Harry staying with me.” She said, “We are engaged to be married and it would be silly to pretend to have separate rooms just for you.”

Both Hermione’s parents seemed a bit shocked, but Jane schooled her expression quickest and seemed to make a quick decision.

“Well, if that’s how it is, then show him to your room.We’ll be here.”

The couple ran up to her room, disappearingquicky.Her parents waited until they were well out of ear shot.Oberon expelled a held breath in a deep sigh.

“Did my little girl just say what I thought she said?” Oberon asked, incredulous.

“I think she did.” Jane said, then giggled, “And we were worried she might never bring her nose out of a book long enough to meet a boy.”

“I guess that’s not a problem.” Mr. Granger replied, still stunned, “I want to threaten the boy, but it would go against everything we’ve taught her.I suppose we can’t spend her whole childhood telling her to be honest with us and that we trust her judgment only to show how hypocritical we are when she decides to take advantage.”

“No, we can’t.” Jane said, “They’re young, but she’s always been older than the calendar says and looking at Harry, he’s got a very old soul.I think they’ll be all right.”

“I hope so.” Oberon finished, dropping his voice to a near whisper, “And I hope to hell the insulation in the walls is thick enough.I don’t think I could take hearing any… noises.”

“Well, if they’re not, maybe I can think of some way to distract you.” Jane said flirtatiously.

“It’s always the brainy ones.” Oberon smiled, unconsciously echoing his future son-in-law’s favorite phrase.

Upstairs, Hermione led Harry into her room and then shut the door, leaning her back against it.Harry went to her bed and flopped down on it.

“I can’t believe I said that.” Hermione groaned, “Now my parents know we’re shagging!”

“I’m surprised I’m still breathing.” Harry laughed.

“You don’t understand!” Hermione agonized, “I’ve always been my daddy’s good girl!Now he’ll think I’m abint!”

“He won’t!” Harry said loudly, “He’d never think that.I saw the way he looked at you and it was like you walk above the ground for him.He looks at you the way I feel about you.Wow, I thought I was worried and tried to talk you out of it.If you’re this torn up about it, why did you insist on telling them we’d be staying together?”

“Because I love you, yougit!”Hermione said without any real anger in her voice at all.

“Well, ok, then.” Harry said, “Trust your parents, Hermione.They obviously trust you.”

“Ok.” She said, stalking towards the bed, “I guess I can do that.Besides, it will be really hot having you in my bed.You don’t know how many nights I lay in that bed and imagined you in it.”

“There’s my naughty girl.” Harry said before his lips were smothered by Hermione’s.

They broke after just a few minutes of passionate snogging.

“I guess we’d better not be up here long.” Hermione sighed, “They really will think I’ve decided to shag you right away.”

Harry recovered from the furious kissing and looked around.The room was much as he would have imagined.Bookshelves lined almost every square surface of the robin’s egg blue walls and the desk had a prominent place of honor.There was a framed Vitruvian man poster as the only art aside from small photos of Harry, Hermione, and Ron in various combinations.One, in particular, caught Harry’s eye, a photo of him and Hermione posed in the snow with Hedwig perched on his shoulder.Their black school robes made a startling contrast with the snow, making it a very dramatic picture.Photo Hermione kept glancing at photo Harry with a loving look and then blushing.Every once inawhile, photo Harry would do the same thing, but neither one ever caught the other looking.

After expanding their trunks at the foot of the bed, the two started to run back downstairs, but Hermione stopped.

“Harry, we really should practice apparition.My parents might enjoy seeing what I’m learning.”

“Ok, Hermione.” Harry said, then grinned, “Wasn’t I the one who used to be the rule breaker?”

They vanished with a quiet almost silent pop, having practiced extensively on the island and reappeared in the living room.Hermione’s father jumped away from her mother, pulling his hand back out of her shirt.

“Oh.” Jane said, surprised, “We thought we’d hear you coming.”

“We were a bit afraid we might here you coming.” Oberon said under his breath, before Jane elbowed him.

The slightly awkward silence was broken by the rapping of the door knocker.Jane took several bills that she’d set aside for the delivery and opened the door.Harry helped, taking the boxes to the dining room table, where the Grangers already had plates laid out.

“Hmmm…this is good!” Harry said, enjoying his sweet and sour chicken, “I’ve never had this.”

The Grangers looked at him curiously.

“You’ve never had sweet and sour chicken?” Jane asked, “Or never had Chinese food?”

“Neither.” Harry answered after swallowing.He was careful not to look like Ron, knowing that drove Hermione crazy.

“That’ssurprising,don’t your Aunt and Uncle like foreign food?” Oberon asked.

“They don’t like much of anything.” Harry answered, “Me,included.They ate Chinese take-out, even though my uncle would gripe about foreigners the whole time, but I wasn’t allowed to have any.They said it was too expensive.”

The Grangers exchanged a look.

“Harry, you’re never planning on going back there, right?” Jane asked.

“No.” Harry answered with a brilliant smile, “Never planning to go back there again.”

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The next morning, they woke and packed the few things they’d taken out of the trunks back into the trunks.They shared a shower in Hermione’s attached bathroom, before dressing in clean clothes and heading downstairs.Hermione blushed slightly on seeing her parents, but quickly recovered and realized there wasn’t some sign over her head proclaiming how she’d broken in her childhood bed and bedroom the previous night.She kissed her mum and dad, before sitting down to breakfast.

After breakfast, they loaded up the Grangers’ sedan for the drive into London.

“Where do you want to go?” Jane asked as Obie pulled out of the driveway.

“Harrods, mum?” Hermione asked, “They have everything.We just need to pick up some clothes.I think I’ve grown out of almost everything and Harry has, too.”

Harry was thankful this wouldn’t be the first new wardrobe he’d gotten.Sirius had made sure he was dressed appropriately ever since he’d been his guardian, unlike theDursleys.

They spent the morning shopping for clothes.Harry realized how comfortable he was getting with his fiancée when he wasn’t bothered when she helped him pick out boxers.He was a bit embarrassed when she took himknickershopping, but he was content to follow her lead and recommended some he thought might look good on her.He was surprised when he recommended a bra and she leaned over to whisper, “I don’t need those, Harry.There are charms for that.Unless you like the way they look?”

“Mmmm… no, that’s ok.” Harry said quickly.

“I thought so.” She replied with a devilish look.

After shopping, they had sushi for lunch, then walked to the underground station to travel a few miles to theMuggleentrance to the Leaky Cauldron.Walking through theMuggleentrance, they were soon attracting attention.

“It’s Harry Potter!”

“Is that themuggleborngirl he’s marrying?”

“Why are they dressed like that?”

Harry and Hermione ignored the constant mumbling that happened whenever Harry walked around thewizardingworld, but it was clear that the Grangers were surprised by the level of attention he attracted.

“They’re talking about you?” Jane asked quietly.

“Yes, mum.I’ve told you Harry’s famous?They’re talking about him.I’m just famous for being engaged to him.”

“Maybe for now.”Harry said, “Someday, I’ll be known as the boy-who-married-the-brightest-witch-in-the-world.”

“Right.”Hermione said, “boy-who-came-up-with-silly-names, maybe.”

Luna saw them as they passed through the pub and quickly ran up to them. Neville, who had been sitting with her, walked up more slowly.

“Harry!Hermione!”Luna said happily, embracing each of them in turn.

“Luna!” Hermione said, giving the smaller girl a bone crushing hug.

“That’s an interesting strategy for killingNargles.” Luna mused distractedly, “It must work, because Harry seems remarkably free of them.”

Neville gave Harry a firm handshake and Hermione a friendly hug, not saying much but content to be with his friends.

“Oh, come on Luna.” Harry saidgoodnaturedly, “We’ve got shopping to do.”

They continued to the brick wall, which Hermione tapped in the prescribed sequence, opening the door intoDiagonAlley.

The same hushed exclamations followed them as they did their shopping.Hermione had wanted to go to the bookstore first, but both Harry and her parents knew better, making that the last stop on the list.They had soon made their other stops, replenishing their basic potion supplies, buying rolls of parchment, quills, and ink.

At MadameMalkin’sthey were measured for tailored robes.Hermione initially planned to buy the same type of robes she’d always bought, quality, but not significantly nicer than the standard.However, when she began walking to the “off the rack” section of the store, MadameMalkinlooked shocked.

“Lord Potter?” she’d asked, “I assume you’ll want tailored robes for you and your fiancée?”

“Yes, I think that would be best.” Harry said, “WhateverMalfoybought this year, we’ll each take the same.”

“Ah, theAcromantulasilk.” The proprietress said, nodding her head and looking relieved, “Good choice, Lord Potter.”

“Acromantulasilk… that reminds me, can you add a set of dueling robes for each of us?” Harry continued, “All embroidered with the house crest, of course.”

“Certainly.”She said confidently, “MasterLongbottom, how about for you?MissLovegood?”

Soon they were fitted with robes and uniforms appropriate to their status.Harry had learned he didn’t even have to pay, he just signed and sealed with his house signet and the money would be deducted from his vault, at a substantial savings compared to the priceMugglebornspaid, as well.Harry was quickly learning how skewed everything was in the favor of the Purebloods and while he hated it, he was glad those rules worked for him and protected Hermione rather than the opposite, the way they had before.With a promise to have their order ready by the time they returned, the family walked to Flourish andBlott’s, likely Hermione’s favorite store on Earth.

They had purchased the books from the previous year’s sixth year book list before leaving for Black Isle and Hermione had already studied those books in depth, freeing her to focus on her ‘supplementary book list’.She had worked hard to compile a list of books that would add to their education.Heavy in defense, but strong in the overall Hogwarts curriculum, she had after long discussion with Harry, who had been supported by Sirius, agreed that money was no object.Harry had been the one to finally come up with the winning argument that all the Potter and Black money would be good for nothing if they didn’t learn what they needed to know to beatVoldemort.Hermione had begun compiling her list immediately, cross referencing the list of books available in the Black Library and the Hogwarts collections before making her final choices.It was lucky that charmed trunks, shrinking and featherweight charms existed or they would have never been able to carry their purchases.

“What is that one?” Hermione asked, looking disgustedly at a matched set of two defense books Harry had added to their stack.

“These are the DefenseAgainstthe Dark Arts texts for this year.” Harry answered, startled by Hermione’s question, “The new professor changed from last year’s text.Didn’t you read the book list?”

Hermione blushed, embarrassed to have been caught not having studied it in detail.She knew the books from the previous year’s curriculum and knew they were among the best of all the books written on their respective subjects, but she wasn’t pleased with the Defense text.

“McMillan’s rates ‘Defensive Magical Theory’ a ‘T’ for ‘Troll’ in their most recent ratings of the books available for DADA.” Hermione huffed, “They speculated the thing was only published becauseSlinkhardmust have connections at the ministry.Who decided to use that for our text?We won’t be prepared for OWLs at all!”

“No idea.” Harry said, “You lost me at McMillan’s.So this isn’t a good text?”

“No, it’s about the worst that actually got published.” Hermione groaned, “We’ll have to buy it if the Professor assigned it, but luckily we haveplenty of others we can really use when this one falls short. Now I’m really worried about our preparation! The OWL year is essential!”

“Hermione, we’ve just finished the introductoryaurorcurriculum.” Harry said, trying to calm his fiancée, “We’re not going to have any trouble with our OWLs, at least in DADA.”

“Well, maybe, but we’d better revise in detail to be ready.” Hermione said,calmingherself.

Harry just shook his head.The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

H/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/Hr

They ended up spending most of the afternoon in the bookstore, which really wasn’t a surprise to anyone that knew Hermione.After they’d made their purchases, they walked to the Leaky Cauldron.As soon as Harry walked in, the whispering started.Harry was getting better at ignoring it.Most was still about him, about the boy-who-lived, but sometimes hurtful things were said about the boy-who-lied, the attention-seeker who made up stories about you-know-who.Hermione seethed, thinking that they needed to enact their counter-Prophet, counter-Fudge plan, but she knew it wasn’t the right time.She and Luna had a plan.

“Hi, Tom!”Harry said.

“Hi, Harry! Want a table?” the bald barkeep asked.

“I could do with a table, Tom, maybe in back? We’ll have about 8.And a couple of rooms?”

“Sure thing, Harry.”Tom answered, tossing two brass keys, “Upstairs, you know where they are.Need any help with your luggage then?”

“No, we’re fine.Thanks!”

They walked upstairs and settled the Grangers in one room, Harry and Hermione in the other, then walked back down to where Tom had set a private table in a back alcove for them.Remus and Siriusflooedin minutes later, speaking to Tom and being directed back to their table.

“Sirius, Remus, good to see you again!” Oberon said.

“Obie.”Sirius said, “How have you been?”

“Well, well, thank you.Thank you for taking good care of my daughter thisSummer.She looks well.We were really disappointed we couldn’t take you up on your holiday offer.We’re hoping you’ll invite us again in the future.” Oberon said.

“Of course, of course.”Sirius said, “In this world of lesser names, men such as Sirius and Oberon must stick together.We’ll invite Remus and Hermione, too.”

Hermione’s mum winked at Harry. “Well, I guess Harry and I will have to keep each other company, because there’s no place forJanesor Harrys in this plan of yours.”

“Neville, I think Luna is destined to be with the fanciful name crew.” Harry said, “What about you?I’m not sure which side Neville falls on.Ginny could go either way, depending on whether she chooses to call herself Ginny or reverts toGinevra.”

“Well, then I had better wait and see which way she falls out, Harry.” Neville said.

“Good plan.” Luna offered, “She might be put out with you, otherwise.”

They talked of nothing for hours, just enjoying the company.When dinner broke up, Neville, Luna, Sirius, and Remusflooedto their respective homes, while the others went upstairs to their rented rooms.Now that they’d connected the Grangers to thefloonetwork, they could have easily returned home, as well, but had chosen to stay in the Leaky Cauldron out of a whim.Hermione wanted to expose her parents to as much of thewizardingworld as she could and staying at the Leaky Cauldron was one good example.

Hermione hugged her parents in the hallway before they separated.The Grangers stood at their open door and watched as Hermione turned, grinned, blushed, and went into the room next door that she was sharing with Harry.

Her back to the door, she locked it and was pushed back against the door by Harry, who captured her mouth with his.She opened her mouth and slid her tongue inside, meeting him.He pushed her back against the door and she used the force to climb him, wrapping her legs around his body as she pushed her shoulder blades off the door.They ground themselves together as they kissed hard enough to bruise their lips.

“Mmmm…” Hermione said, pulling her mouth back slightly, enough to be understood, “You know what’s great about being a witch?”

“Not wearing a bra?” Harry said, his mind still savoring that information he’d learned in Harrods, his hands taking advantage.

“Ok, that, too.”Hermione groaned, “I like that… but I was thinking of silencing charms.I’d have to be upset that Tom put us in a room that shares a wall with my parents, except with silencing charms, they cankeep believingI’m their little angel.”

She swished her wand and cast non-verbal silencing charms on every wall, the door, and the window, before casting a powerful locking spell on the door. Then she tossed her wand to the bedside table.

“Now where were we?Right…mmmmmmm…..”

Harry remembered Hermione as almost always wearing jeans when she wasn’t in her school uniform, but since they were dating, it seemed she was always in skirts.He loved her in skirts.He pushed his hands up her outer thighs, caressing, pushing her skirt higher and higher until he could reach her knickers.Only to find none.He could feel her smile against his mouth as she felt his surprise across their bond.

“Like that, huh?” Hermione asked.

“Merlin, yes!”Harry said, growing even more frantic in his kissing.

“Well, they say the brain is the largest sex organ.” Hermione murmured, “I kept wondering if you’d notice.”

Harry ground himself against her bare pussy, trying not to be too rough with fabric against delicate skin, but she didn’t seem to mind, grinding back with no hesitation.He finally pulled away from the door, taking her with him, her legs still wrapped around his waist.He walked with her to the bed, before dropping her back to the still-made bed.He was happy to see the height was nearly perfect, waist high.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Hermione protested, pulling his shirt over his head.Harry loved the feeling of her hard nipples against his chest.The way she reacted to him was almost better than his own pleasure and he could spend hours just trying to drive her crazy, trying to make her nipples harder or her quim wetter.Being with Hermione was better thanQuidditch, better than flying, and it was a sport he planned to excel at for his entire life.He subtly started teasing her with almost unnoticed amounts of power pushed through their connection.Her skin flushed, whether from the physical touching, licking, and grinding or from the magic, who could say.It was their own unique foreplay and added another dimension that others lacked.He finished stripping his clothes off until he was completely nude.Hermione was still dressed, with her skirt pushed up and her shirt unbuttoned.Impatient, that’s all they’d taken time for.

Sliding to his knees, he began to kiss her thighs, already smeared with her fluids.He nibbled and licked, trying to bring her to her first orgasm with magic and kisses around the target, but Hermione was too impatient, grabbing his hair with both hands and putting his face exactly where she wanted it.She could be submissive at times, but she could be the aggressor, too, and he loved both faces.He pushed her thighs back against her chest, feeling the bare skin above her thigh-high tights.Harry teased with his mouth and then took Hermione over the edge with magic, pushing and licking while she shuddered through her first climax of the night.

“Oh, Merlin, ohHarry!”Hermionecried out, bucking against him.

He continued until she finally pushed him away and turned around on the bed, letting her head rest over the edge.

“Ok, now it’s your turn.” Hermione said, smiling upside down at him.

Harry wasn’t sure how this was going to work, but he could tell she wanted him to move closer, so he crept slowly forward, letting her show him what she wanted.When he was close enough, she grasped him and pulled him towards her mouth, running her tongue all around his crown.Closer still and she was able to get a hand behind him, grasping his ass and pulling him into her.Then, with both hands on his ass, she relaxed, her only movement with tongue and hands, pulling him closer and letting him pull away until he set his own rhythm.He could feel her sensations, feel how powerful an experience it was for her to surrender all the control to him and trust him not to push too hard.He could also tell she liked it when he pushed just short of too far and he kept himself on that fine line between too much and not enough, pushing her limits as she gasped for breath around him.It was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen when she moved one of her hands between her legs and it became a blur as she stroked herself in time with his thrusts.He could feel the magic crescendo as they both approached climax together, his first and her… he didn’t even know, hadn’t counted.The way they could feel each other’s pleasure, it pushed her to go further and further, his pleasure adding to hers.He felt the moment when she fell over the edge of her own orgasm and it was indistinguishable from the waves of pleasure crashing over him as he spilled himself down her throat.As soon as he pulled out of her mouth, his shaky knees slowly gave out and he sank down to a kneeling position, resting his head alongside hers at the edge of the bed.The only sound for several minutes was panting as they regained their breath.

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione moaned, “I wouldn’t have thought I could do that or that it would be that fun for me, but…oh, my.”

Harry laughed, since she was almost incoherent, by Hermione standards.He couldn’t think of anything at all to say, his mind blown by the experience.He kissed her salty skin at her neck, her ear, and then let her draw him into a salty upside down kiss.He finally found the energy to pullhimselfinto bed, pull the blanket over them, and fell asleep.

Hermione woke in the middle of the night, her bladder pushing her out of bed.The room was still dimly lit with gas lights, never turned off before they’d fallen asleep.She was still in her skirt, stockings, and shirt, although it was completely unbuttoned.She snuck out of bed to avoid waking Harry, finished undressing, used the loo which was luckily in the room, turned down the lights and crept back into bed.Tomorrow they had to ride the Express, but for now there was a warm bed and a warm body that she loved very much.

Next time she woke, she saw Harry, completely dressed, looking at her from a chair beside the bed.She blinked sleepily and curled into a tighter ball.

“Why are you out there?” Hermione asked, drowsy and not wanting to leave the bed.

“Because you slept in.”Harry said, “It’s strange to be the first one up.I tried not to wake you.I thought about bringing you breakfast in bed, but your parents are waiting, so I just brought you tea.”

“Mmmm…. You’re sweet.” Hermione smiled and sat up, “Thank you, Harry.”

“Thank you.” He said back with a confident grin, his green eyes flashing.

Hermione dropped her head, as she felt a wave of heat roll over her.He didn’t even realize how strong his aura was, but even if it weren’t for his magic, those eyes and that look would have melted her.She’d been brave last night, caught up in the moment and her body’s needs, but this morning she was a bit embarrassed about how aggressive she’d been and how far she’d gone in letting him use her for his pleasure.She’d loved it, but wasn’t sure that was how Hermione Granger, strong, smart, future Head Girl, was supposed to act, even with her fiancée.

“None of that now.”Harry said, the grin never leaving his face, “With me you can be whoever you want.Try out anything you want.Nobody will ever know.”

She smiled back at him.He knew exactly what to say and exactly what she needed to here.He let her exploreherself,let her be more than the role she could easily let herself become locked into.He’d done it for her for four years now, ever since he’d prompted her to break her first rule and she knew he wouldn’t stop unlocking the cage she sometimes built for herself.

“Ok, I’ll take a quick shower and then we’ll go downstairs.” Hermione said, springing out of bed, “Are you packed?We should hurry or we’ll be late!”

Harry just smiled again as she started to put on one of her Hogwarts faces.He loved all her aspects and couldn’t wait to see her as prefect.

Downstairs, they met the Grangers, already nibbling on a traditional fry up breakfast.Jane was as thin as Hermione despite eating whatever she seemed to want to, which was a good sign in Harry’s mind.

“Ah, Hermione!”Jane said, raising an eyebrow, “Up late, aren’t you?Something tire you out?”

Hermione’s eyes widened.Harry choked on his first sip of tea.

Obie looked at Jane and they both burst out laughing.

“Dearest daughter, if you’re going to live as an adult, you’d better work on your blush reflex.” Jane sniggered, “You seem to have slept well.I’m pleased, since I know how nervous you can get before the start of a new term.”

“I slept perfectly, mum.” Hermione said quietly, but looked up with a mischievous look in her face, her lips quirking up.She really did have a playful sense of humor underneath her façade, which few saw, but should have been obvious to anyone who knew herPatronus, “Did you and daddy sleep well?”

“Oh, yes.” Jane said with a smile, “I don’t know if it’s the magical world, but soon after we went to bed, we felt like there was this energy just rolling through.It was very… energizing.”

Harry choked again and he shared a look with Hermione.Maybe a silencing charm was not enough.

Talk turned to less embarrassing topics, as Oberon looked through a copy of the Prophet.

“What’s this about Harry?” he asked, looking at the front page, “They’ve managed to call him a liar!It’s a bit surprising to see him on the front cover, but then to read this drivel?”

“Actually, let’s start at the beginning.” Jane said, “You never got a chance yesterday to tell us about all the whispering. What’s that all about?”

“Well, I’ve told you before that Harryisa bit famous?” Hermione asked, trying to establish what they’d already heard.She’d told them….but she’d told them far, far from the whole story, afraid they’d pull her from school if they knew about the Troll, the Basilisk, or any of the incarnations ofVoldemort.

“You’d mentioned it, but I always imagined you meant more in a local boy won a spelling bee way.” Jane admitted.

“No, not exactly.”Hermione ventured, “More like the Royal family famous?”

“Really?”Oberon asked, “What’s he done?”

“It’s not so much what I’ve done.”Harry said, “Well, not really.There was this evil wizard, sort of the head of a terrorist organization.He killed my mum and dad, but was mysteriously defeated and I survived, the only survivor of the killing curse.For some reason, everyone decided I’d defeated this evil wizard and I became famous.Then I disappeared for almost ten years, which just made the legend larger.It’s kind of its own thing now.I would rather nobody know who I am, but there you have it.”

“Well, that’s not exactly all!” Hermione insisted, “That’s where it started, but then you add the youngest seeker in a century in a society whereQuidditchis the only sport then add in Tri-Wizard Champion, winner of the only tournament that could have postponedQuidditch, facing off against wizards years older.Well, of course you’re famous!”

It was Harry’s turn to blush, “And engaged to the brightest witch of her age. I’d say that’s a bigger achievement than the others, really.”

Hermione swatted him, but looked secretly pleased.

“So then if you’re likewizardingroyalty, what’s with the awful headlines?” Oberon asked, looking upset.

“The Minister for Magic didn’t like that I saidVoldemort, the evil wizard I mentioned, had returned.” Harry said carefully, “He has tried to say I was mistaken or lying and this is part of how he does that. He has the paper in his back pocket. It’s no big deal.Something similar happened second year.”

“Oh.” Oberon said, “Are you in trouble with the Minister?”

“No, not really.”Harry said, “Just unpopular for the moment.”

The Grangers considered that for a few moments.

“Well, it’s better to be truthful than to be well-liked, I suppose.” Oberon said, “I respect that, although it doesn’t surprise me if Hermione’s picked you.”

They changed the subject and talked about upcoming classes, the Prefect jobs, and other more benign topics.

“Well, we’d better be going.” Hermione said officiously, “The train leaves at 11:00 sharp and we don’t want to be late.Now that we’re Prefects, we need to set a good example.”

Harry nodded and finished his tea.They all began tidying up, wiping their faces with napkins, and generally beginning the process of leaving the Leaky Cauldron.King’s Cross Station was only a few miles away, reachable via thePicadillyline in a few minutes.

At the station, Harry gave Jane a hug while Hermione held on to her father for dear life.As much as she always looked forward to the start of term, she also missed her parents, particularly given how little she saw them lately.Then they switched and Harry gave his future father-in-law a manly hug while Hermione clung to her mother.

“You’re getting so big, Hermione.” Jane whispered, “You’ll be married before too long.You’re not my little girl anymore.”

“I’ll always be your little girl, mum.” Hermione smiled back, looking at her mother with love shining from her eyes.

“Take care of her, son.” Obiesaid,his voice cracking.

“I will.” Harry said, as if it were the most important duty of his life, which was indeed exactly how he felt.

Harry and Hermione walked towards Platform nine and three quarters, turning just short of the barrier to wave at the Grangers.Then they turned and walked briskly through the barrier.

On the other side, the Express sat, glistening red and black.Steam shrouded the engine, since with the magic train it didn’t wait to fully stoke the engines until immediately before departure.Harry and Hermione were early, arriving well before the train was due to leave at 11 o’clock.They walked forward to the Prefect compartment, the first time they’d traveled there.Harry pulled their shrunken trunks out of his pocket at they went through the luggage car and enlarged them.He wondered briefly why theWeasleyshadn’t carried their trunks in this fashion when he’d met them first year.Percy was certainly old enough to return them alltofull size if the twins couldn’t.Harry dismissed the thought, understanding that sometimes theWeasleysjust didn’t behave rationally, as Ron had so recently demonstrated.Thinking of Ron made him nervous, wondering how they were ever going to reconcile after a month and a half apart with their conflict stewing the entire time.

As they passed the various compartments, they looked inside, hoping to see early arrivals they knew.The first two they saw were Luna and Neville.They had apparently come together, because they’d claimed a compartment already.Harry opened the door and stepped inside.

“Nev, Luna, good to see you.” Harry greeted his friends.

“Harry, it is good to see you again.” Luna said, looking up from her Quibbler, held upside down.

Neville grinned at Luna and nodded to Harry and Hermione.

“Seen anyone else yet?” Hermione asked, wondering about theWeasleysbut hesitant to ask.

“No, I haven’t seen Ronald yet. Luna said, dreamily, “You know how they are.They’re lucky to even make the Express most years.I think they must be infested byChronomites.They nibble away at your time and next thing you know, you don’t have any left.”

“Sounds dangerous.”Harry yawned, letting his head tilt back and thinking he might sleep for a few minutes until they had to move to the Prefect’s compartment.

“We should change into our robes.” Hermione said, “That way we’ll be ready for the Prefect meeting and rounds.”

Harry stood up and took his school robes from Hermione, where she’d had them stashed in her bottomless bag.He’d worn the parts of his school uniform that weren’t obviouslywizardingin origin, which was honestly most of it.He might look like he’s from some unknown school, but he wouldn’t stick out as a wizard until he put on the robes.So changing was as easy as putting his robes on over the rest of the uniform.He pinned his Prefect pin to the robe and was ready.He watched Hermione straighten her robes and he briefly wondered whether she’d decided to wear knickers this morning.He’d forgotten to look when she was dressing and now he was curious.She obviously caught his train of thought, because she glanced at him and gave him that special grin she gave when she was thinking naughty thoughts.She quirked an eyebrow at him as if to ask, ‘so, what did you decide?’.He just shrugged his shoulders back.Hermione had a silent laugh before finishing her adjusting and pinning her own badge to her robes.

Harry had managed to almost nod off, with Hermione tucked warmly into his side, reading a thick book, when he got the feeling something was wrong.The number of students walking through the corridor had been increasing steadily and he knew they’d leave soon.Several friends had looked into the compartment, but theWeasleysstill hadn’t been seen.

Harry stood and walked out into the corridor, letting Hermione know through the bond that he’d had a chill, perhaps an intuition that something was wrong and he wanted to investigate.He checked that his wand was free in the wrist sheath with his backup in the opposite sheath and walked back towards the baggage car.Hermione would have come with him, but he’d waved her back to her book.Luna didn’t look interested in coming with him, but she did seem interested in his leaving.

“See you soon, Harry.” Luna had said as he left the car, “Take care.”

He walked quietly, looking in compartments as he went.He saw many of his classmates and many students he knew from his four years previously at Hogwarts.He saw Cedric with Cho.Somehow the sight of his fellow champion made him happy, perhaps a reminder of their unlikely friendship forged through honorable competition and unfailing sportsmanship in the tournament and previously on theQuidditchpitch.He continued walking and heard familiar voices ahead.

“Ah, Weasel.”Malfoysneered, “Did you perhaps come directly from the factory?I know your family can barely afford to lose your wages when you come to school, but surely you can leave your summer job early enough to arrive to the train on time?”

“Shut up,Malfoy!” Ron grumbled, irritated, but handling his temper better than he usually would.

Harry didn’t see the twins and wondered where they were.Their absence left this confrontation two to three, as the two youngestWeasleysfacedMalfoy, Crabbe, andGoyle, all of whom had their wands drawn.

“Shut up?”Malfoysaid dangerously, “You shouldn’t speak to me that way, blood traitor.You need to remember who is important and whois nobody.You fall in the latter category.Your sister, though, at least she’s attractive.She might be amusing for a little…recreation.”

Harry watched as he walked as quietly as he could.He caught Ginny’s eye and she acknowledged him with a barely perceptible nod, not otherwise telegraphing his presence.Ron was focused on theSlytherins, not appearing to see Harry, who just watched, ready to help if needed.

“We know your opinions of status,Malfoy.” Ron said tiredly, “Harry’s not here to impress.Just move out of the way.”

“You think I would try to impress Potter?”Malfoysputtered, “He’s ahalfblood, below my attention, barely better than amudbloodlike his mother or like Granger.”

Harry drew his wand and poked it into the curve where Draco’s skull met his spine.

“What did you say,Malfoy?” Harry asked dangerously.

Draco started to turn, but Harry increased the pressure of his wand.

“No, no need to turn.” Harry said, “I just want to clarify what you said about my mother and my fiancée.I think I may have heard you wrong, because I’m sure you wouldn’t provoke a duel with the Potter head of house.The results could be…messy.”

Draco paused, obviously realizing that Harry had learned more about Pureblood customs and knew he could call Draco out for the insult.He took a bit longer to think about whether he wanted to provoke a fight, but then decided that at least with Potter’s wand pushed against the back of his head, he’d better follow the ideal that discretion was the better part of valor and depart.

“I think you must have misheard me.” Draco said sullenly, “Crabbe,Goyle, come with me.The stench is becoming too thick here.”

TheSlytherinsslunk away from the confrontation, happy to face theWeasleyswhen they had a numerical advantage, but reluctant to get into a fight where they were evenly matched in numbers and had the disadvantage of having Harry behind them.

Once they were gone, Harry focused on his friends.

“Ginny, good to see you.”Harry said smiling, then, more cautiously, “Ron.”

“Hi, Harry.” Ginny replied with a smile.

“Harry.” Ron said, nodding to him, “Thanks.I’m sure Ginny and I could have taken them, but it would have come to a fight.When you showed up, the chances of that went down a lot.”

“Sure, no problem, Ron.”Harry said, puzzled that Ron didn’t seem nearly as mad as he’d expected.

“Ginny, do you think you can go ahead?Have Harry tell you where the others are.” Ron said carefully, “I need to talk to Harry for a few minutes.”

“Sure, Ron.”Ginny said, cooperating quickly which was unusual for her.

Ron waited until she was out of ear shot, before he spoke.

“Harry, I’m sorry.” Ronsaid,eyes downcast, “I know that’s not enough, but I hope it’ll do for a start.I don’t know why I said what I did and I wish I could take it back.”

“Do you really not know why, Ron?” Harry said, exasperatedly, “Because I’m starting to think it’s the same reason we’ve fought every time we’ve fought lately.”

Ron was silent for a few moments, before he answered, “You’re right.I do know why.That’s what I spent a lot of the past month figuring out.Why I’m so jealous all the time.It’s just hard to grow up as the youngest brother in a family full of really powerful personalities.I’m tired of feeling like I won’t live up to my brothers and I guess it came out eventually as I started thinking I’d never live up to you, either.”

“It’s not a competition, Ron!” Harry said, his voice beginning toraise.

“I know it’s not.” Ron said calmly, holding a hand out, palm down, as if to signal Harry to calm down, “I spent my time away from you in training, the training I told you about before?I went to study with Master Wu and he helped me understand.I’ve thought about it extensively.I even simulated thismeeting ,seeing all the ways it will play out.Do you know there is a few millionths of a percent chance we’ll duel and you’ll kill me over this conversation?Do you know there’s not a single branch in which I’d win that duel?No, I understand very well.I’ve thought about this a lot and I found one way for things to work out as well as they could.”

Harry just shook his head, not understanding what Ron was blathering about.His confusion only got worse when Ron sank to one knee in front of him, holding out his wand handle first in both hands.

“Lord Potter,” Ron started, “I, RonaldBililusWeasley, youngest son of HouseWeasley, would swear an oath to you, to serve you as your liegeman, devoted even unto death to your cause of defeatingVoldemort.”

“Ron?” Harry asked, but then realized they had talked about this in the Pureblood culture lessons Sirius had given.It was an obsolete oath of personal fealty from an individual to a head of house.Harry thought about it and used his talent for synthesizing information very quickly and intuitively to make quick decisions, grasping Ron’s hand between his own,“Very well, RonaldBiliusWeasley.I, Harry James Potter, accept your oath and swear onMypart, for Myself and House Potter, that I will support you and treat you as if you were family, in all things.I so swear.”

There was a flash of light and a golden ribbon of light wound around their linked hands, dissolving into the skin and marking the oath.

Harry helped Ron to his feet, “Now do you mind telling me what the hell that was about?”

“Sure, Mate, but it might be better to wait until we’ve got more time.It can sit.” Ron said, seeming more relaxed, “So are we good?”

Harry considered it for a few moments.“Yes, we’re good.I’m still upset about what you said and am getting tired of going over this same territory, but we’re still friends.Now, you’ll have to work things out with Hermione separately and I don’t even want to think about what kind of apology you owe Luna.”

“Luna.” Ron sighed, “I really stuck myfuckin’ foot in my mouth on that one, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.” Harry said, “For whatever reason, I think Luna would forgive you, though.Just be sure you know what you want before you talk to her, because I doubt any girl would tolerate you acting like you’re crazy about her, but then you’re hung up on another girl, then you’re crazy about her, then the other girl.”

“I’ve already thought about it.” Ron said, “Besides our friendship and my role in the Trio, that was the biggest thing for me to think about.I don’t know why I said what I did.I’ve known you were with Hermione and that was never going to change for a year now.I had only just started thinking I might like her before you ended up together…in other words, there was nothing there, while with Luna wehave ,or had, something really genuine.I think I was just so confused I would have said anything.”

“Well, you’ll have to explain that to her.” Harry said, “I don’t envy you, Mate.”

“Thanks.” Ron said sourly.

Together they walked back to the compartment Luna and Neville had claimed.Harry walked in first and then Ron.Luna looked up from her Quibbler and then leaped up.She ran to Ron and just stood in front of him, staring up at him.She looked for several minutes, staring into his eyes, before her lip started to quiver and, surprising everyone she slapped him.

“Don’t ever do that again!”Luna cried and then jumped on him, kissing him.

Ron was completely shocked, at first not seeming to know what to do, but then relaxing into the kiss.

“Hmmmm…” Hermione said, “Harry and I need to go to the Prefect meeting.”

“Oh, well Neville and I were about to take a walk, right Neville.” Ginny said, standing and taking Neville’s hand.

“We were?” Neville said, blinking owlishly, “Ooof…that’s right, we were.”

They all left the compartment, stopping once they were several doors down.

“Well, that’s not how I expected her to react.” Hermione said.

“When has Luna ever reacted how we expected?” Harry asked.

“Good point.” Hermione said, “Well, we really do need to go the Prefect meeting.Maybe you two should give them a fifteen minutes or a half hour.I wouldn’t give them too much longer than that, we don’t want them getting in trouble.”

“Yes, Hermione.”Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

Hermione ignored the cheek and she walked with Harry to the Prefect car.They walked in to find Cedric as Head Boy and someRavenclawthat neither of them knew as Head Girl.Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbot were already there, obviously chosen as theHufflepuffprefects.PadmaPatilwas sitting next to an empty chair.Hermione wondered who theRavenclawfifth year Prefect would be.She knew most of theRavenclaws, since they often shared her chosen space, the library. Plus, it never hurt to know your competition.

Just then, Anthony Goldstein walked in, answering her question.Horrifyingly, behind him were DracoMalfoyand Pansy Parkinson.Hermione kicked herself for not asking ProfessorSnapewho had been chosen fromSlytherin.He likely would have told her as long as they were on the Island and away from witnesses.

Cedric led them through the expectations of the Prefects, following the guides they’d received fairly closely.She took notes, but didn’t need to take many since he was sticking close to the guide.Harry listened absentmindedly, knowing Hermione would pay attention.Hermione carefully noted the initial password to the Prefects bath, a room she was happy they’d be able to use again.She remembered deciphering the riddle of the egg there the previous year and how it had advanced their relationship.Now that they were more comfortable around each other it would be even more fun.She shook her head, trying to clear it.She wasn’t sure if it was hormones or having Harry in her head, but she had sex on her mind all the time.Luckily, her mind was completely willing to run several trains of thought at once without feeling strained, so it didn’t seem to get in the way of anything.

After the Prefect meeting, they returned to the compartment with their friends.As they walked in, they could tell Luna and Ron had worked out their feelings, because Luna was sitting on Ron’s lap and Ron, while bright red, didn’t look too injured.Meanwhile, Luna had a dotty smile on her face, which with her was a very good sign.

“How did the Prefect meeting go?” Ron asked.

“Well.” Harry said, shortly.

Hermione gave him a look, knowing if it were up to him, that’s all he would say.

“Well, Cedric isHeadboy.I don’t think any of you know the Head Girl…well, Luna, you would, she’s aRavenclaw.The new Prefects are Ernie and Hannah fromHufflepuff, Anthony and Padma fromRavenclaw, and…Draco and Pansy fromSlytherin.”

“Draco is a Prefect?!” Ron said, starting to stand in his anger and almost dumping Luna off his lap.Luckily she was small and clung to his neck, avoiding that fate.

They continued talking throughout the trip, except for when Harry and Hermione took their turns patrolling the Express.Hermione pulled Luna aside, whether to further their planning for their secret Prophet counter-strike or to discuss Luna, Harry wasn’t sure.He could probably find out through the bond, but he didn’t believe in eavesdropping.Neville showed them a plant his uncle had brought from a trip overseas for his birthday.Although he hadn’t been home to get it on the actual day of his birthday, he was pretty excited about it.He caught himself before he showed them the plant’s defensive capabilities.

“Here, let me show you…no, wait, I read that it can shoot a foul smelling fluid, stink-sap, if poked, but I’ve never tried it, so maybe I should experiment when we’re not all stuck in a confined space.”

“Good idea, Neville!” Ginny giggled, “You wouldn’t be getting any kisses if you smelled like something called ‘stink-sap’!”

Neville blushed and Ron gave him a mildly dirty look, but quickly erased it when Luna elbowed him in the ribs.She’d kept Ron in check in regards to Ginny’s relationship and he was obviously very intent on staying in her good graces after his recent behavior.

Harry and Neville bought enough food off the cart for everyone.Ron and Harry played chess forawhile, before Harry went back to reviewing one of the better defense texts they’d picked up at Flourish andBlott’s.He was trying to get tips onwandlessmagic, his next focus.He’d already made some headway on his absolute best spells, but his consistency was poor.He’d drilledaccioobsessively, practicing to retrieve his wand, so he’d never be without a wand, and he could do that regularly.He could sometimes raise a shield, sometimes do the disarming spell, but otherwise hadn’t been able to make much else work.

Hermione was reviewing a book on curses.She’d been researching obsessively, just as Harry had predicted,everysince Luna had mentioned the aura-darkness around Harry’s scar was more than routine for a curse scar.She was making notes as she went, writing furiously.

Luna had finished the Quibbler and was reading a book on runes.Harry recognized the book as an advanced text that Hermione had liked.Sometimes it disturbed him how much Luna and Hermione were alike.It made sense that Ron would like Luna, since she was so much like Hermione, but lacked the uptight nature that Hermione was overcoming.Ron never really argued with Luna like he did with Hermione.She even laughed at his jokes, which Harry thought was above and beyond the call of duty.

The Express pulled into the station.Harry and Hermione entrusted their luggage to the others after shrinking it down.Hedwig was able to fly to the castle and the cage was easily shrunken so as not to be a bother.The two Prefects then assisted the other students, especially the first years, reach the boats.One of the new first years, Rose Zeller as Harry discovered later, almost fell into the water while trying to board.Harry, without thinking, cast awandless“acciofirst year” and saved her.Luckily, his quick reflexes were enough to terminate the spell before she landed on him and he caught her up in a hug from behind, before getting her steadied.

“Watch it, there.Careful, into the boats.”He said, continuing to help the littlest students.Rose blushed, especially when she saw Harry’s scar and realized who’d saved her, but the fact that Harry didn’t make a big deal of it made it easy for her to ignore.

“I think you’ve found a friend.” Hermione whispered teasingly.

“Oh, hush.” Harry said, smiling despite himself.

“I think it was sweet.” Hermione added, giving Harry one of her new flirtatious looks, “You know how I get when you show what a powerful wizard you are.”

“Good.” Harry said, looking around briefly before swatting her rear.

“Eeep!”Hermione squealed before catching herself.

“Ok, there, Miss Granger?” ProfessorGrubbly-Plank asked.

“Oh, yes, Professor.Just fine.I think I stepped on something.” Hermione said, shooting a dirty look at Harry, but being unable to completely hide her grin.

They both had wondered whereHagridwas, but had left the question for later.They’d probably learn soon enough, if not during the sorting, then from Dumbledore whenever they saw him.Harry could always count on an early meeting sometime.

After getting all the first year’s settled, they hurried to the carriages.Harry brushed by the first few horseless carriages, glancing inside for his friends.Luckily Ron stood out from the crowd with his new found height and they soon were safely in a carriage with their friends.

“Whew, the first years are getting younger and smaller.” Harry commented.

“One was almost getting a lot wetter.” Hermione teased.

“Well, I did my good Prefect deed of the day.” Harry said, “Too bad I couldn’t have been there for DennisCreevey.”

The Prefects again hopped off the carriage as soon as possible and helped get everyone moving into the castle in an orderly fashion.Ron gently squeezed Luna’s hand before walking away from her as he went to the Gryffindor table and she went to theRavenclawtable.

“So everything worked out, Mate?” Harry asked quietly when they were seated.Hermione leaned in to hear.

“Yeah.”Ron said, looking down uncomfortably, “I told her I wasn’t sure why I said that, it wasn’t how I really feel, but I was just so mad and jealous, I didn’t really know what I was saying.She said you both had said something similar.So, thanks, I guess.”

“Ron, you can be so frustrating sometimes.” Hermione said, “But never forget we love you anyway.”

“I knew you were mental.” Ron said with a smile.

“Oh, I don’t disagree in this case.” Hermione said in a prissy voice, before giggling.

Harry noticedLavendarandParvatihad stopped talking abruptly when he’d passed by and they’d greeted him.He got the distinct impression they were talking about him.As he thought about it, he noticed signs that many other students were stealing glances and talking about him.He was either becoming as paranoid as Moody or, more likely, the Prophet stories were having an effect.He started to get very angry, but Hermione felt it and squeezed his leg, sending a suggestion to tighten his shields.He did and felt the emotional cool slide down over the rising rage.He happened to catchSnape’seye at the staff table and got a very brief nod that he doubted anyone else would have noticed.

“Hey,Hagridisn’t there, either.” Harry said.

“No, he’s not.” Hermione agreed, then adding more sharply with a jerk of her chin to the center of the table, “Who is that?”

‘That’ was a squat witch with a pink cardigan, pink headband controlling her short curly brown hair, andtoadlikeface.

“No idea.” Harry said, shrugging, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before.”

“Oh, no.”Hermione groaned, her mind making connections faster than anyone else.

Harry caught part of that thought and agreed it made sense.

“DADA?” he whispered.

Her short nod confirmed that was exactly what she was thinking.

“Her?” Ron asked, incredulous, “She doesn’t look like she could beat afirstiein a duel.”

“Well, Ron, normally I would tell you not to judge a book by the cover.” Hermione said, starting off in her lecture tone, “However, in this case, her choice of text, her abominable choice of clothing, and her rather unimpressive aura all suggest you’re exactly right.”

“Well, let’s hope for the best.” Harry said, sounding pessimistic.

The sorting hat gave its traditional speech, although it came out sounding more like a warning and a call for unity than normal.The first years were sorted, ending with Rose Zeller looking disappointed as she found out she was sorted into a different house than Harry, who she kept surreptitiously glancing at.They ate and then, as students finished eating and the noise level increased, the Headmaster stood.

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast,,I beg a few moments of attention.”

He gave quick announcements regarding prohibited activities, items, and areas,thencontinued.

“We also have two changes in staffing this year.We are very pleased to welcome back ProfessorGrubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce ProfessorUmbridge, our newest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There was a round of lukewarm applause.

“Tryouts for the HouseQuidditchteams will take place on the…” Dumbledore continued, stopping abruptly.He looked at ProfessorUmbridge, surprised.Since she wasn’t much taller standing than she had been sitting, the students were also momentarily surprised.

“Hem, hem.”Umbridgerepeated, making it clear she intended to give a speech.

The Headmaster looked taken aback for a moment, before sitting back smartly and looking alertly at ProfessorUmbridgeas if he wanted nothing more than to listen to her speech.The other professors were not so facile at hiding their emotions and were clearly shocked at the new professor’s rudeness.You just didn’t interrupt the Headmaster, one of the most powerful wizards since Merlin!IfSnape’slooks could kill,Umbridgewould have been cold and dead, but then again, so would Harry.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” ProfessorUmbridgesimpered, “for those kind words of welcome.”

Her voice was high pitched, breathy, and little girlish.Harry felt a wave of dislike and either heard or sensed through the bond Hermione’s whispered, “Regression as a coping mechanism, interesting…”

Meanwhile,Umbridgecontinued, “Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces smiling back at me.”

Harry did not notice many happy nor smiling faces; on the contrary, they all looked rather taken aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!”

The toad-faced woman went on to make a rambling and almost-nonsensical speech about education and the Ministry’s role that Hermione interpreted to mean the Ministry was taking an active hand in guiding Hogwarts this year.

When Dumbledore dismissed them afterwards, Harry and Hermione stood up smartly.

“First years.”Harry barked, channeling Moody, “This way!”

Hermione laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly, “Harry, you’ll scare them.”

“This way.”Harry said, a touch gentler, “We’ll show you to the Gryffindor common room and get you settled in your new rooms.Come along.”

He and Hermione led them up the moving staircases, keeping them from getting lost in the confusing castle.At the Fat Lady, Hermione spoke the password, “Mimbulusmimbletonia” and the portrait swung outward.Harry briefly wondered how the password had been set as the name of a plant Neville had just brought to the school, a plant that was supposedly very rare, but he pushed the random thought from his mind.He guided the first year boys to their rooms while Hermione guided the girls.Then he went to his room to change into pajamas, before planning to meet Hermione in the common room for some bonding time.

Dean and Seamus had reached the room first, not having to gather up the first years and they were putting up posters.

“Hey, Harry.” Dean said, “Good holiday?”

“It was.” Harry answered, thinking about it, “Probably one of the best I’ve had.”

“Looks like you got some sun.” Dean laughed, “Hermione, too.Did you spend it together?”

“Yep, we sure did.” Harry said, “Ron, Neville, and Ginny were there most of the time, too.What about you?”

“Yeah, it was ok.” Dean said, “At least better than Seamus’, he was just telling me.”

“Why?What happened, Seamus?” Neville asked, placing hisMimbuluscarefully on his bedside table.

Seamus hesitated in answering, pretending to spend the time straightening one of his posters.Finally, his back still to Harry, he said, “Me mam didn’t want me to come back.”

“What?” Harry asked, pausing his changing.

“She didn’t want me to come back to Hogwarts.” Seamus repeated.

“But…why?” Harry asked, astonished.He knew Seamus’ mom was a witch and Hogwarts was the premier school of wizardry in the world.

Seamus again hesitated while he buttoned his pajamas, finally saying, “Well, I suppose… because of you.”

“Whatd’youmean?” Harry asked quickly, confused.

“Well, it’s not just you.” Seamus said, avoiding eye contact, “It’s Dumbledore, too.”

“She believes the Daily Prophet?” Harry said, avoiding the rest of what he wanted to say, which wouldn’t have come out nicely.He was carefully controlling himself, but when Neville looked up at him he knew magic must be rolling off him in waves.

“Yeah, somethinglikethat.” Seamus said, “What did happen that night?”

Harry thought about it for a moment, deciding how much to tell.Normally, he would have blown Seamus off.If the boy wanted to think he was an attention-seekingprat, that was his prerogative, but Seamus had been his roommate for four years already and that merited a little bit of tolerance.He knew being his friend took a bit of work, as Ron liked to prove from time to time.

“Well, during the last task of the tournament, the cup was aportkey.It took me into a trap thatVoldemorthad set.”

Three boys jumped slightly at the name, Neville less than the others.

“One ofVoldemort’sservants stole my blood and used it in a ritual to rebuildVoldemort’sbody that had been destroyed on the night he killed my parents.Hermione came after me and together we managed to escape.”

Harry felt like he’d done a good job of reducing the chaos of that night into the shortest possible description without sounding like an attention seeker.

Seamus looked thoughtful.Harry could tell Dean had been listening closely, too.While they were still silent, Ron walked in, likely from a short snogging session with Luna.

“What’s up here?” Ron asked curiously, “It’s too quiet.”

“Harry just told these two what happened the nightVoldemortcame back.” Neville answered quietly.

“Oh.” Ron said, going over to his bed and beginning to change.His nonchalant attitude seemed to interest Seamus.

“Then you believe him?” Seamus asked Ron, who’d always been closer to Seamus than Harry was.

Ron looked puzzled.“Of course I do, are younuttters?If Harry said that’s what happened, then that’s what happened.Harry might have a bit of a temper, but he’s as honest as the day is long.He’d never lie to a friend.You’re not calling him a liar, are you?” Ron continued, starting to show some of his own temper, “Because anyone who calls my best mate a liar is going to have to deal with me.”

“No, not saying he’s a liar.” Seamus said, carefully, not wanting to fight Ron, but not wanting to back down and look like a coward, either, “Just trying to figure out what happened, because the Prophet’s really saying some bad things about Harry and about Dumbledore. They say the Headmaster has been sacked from theWizengamotand the International Confederation of Wizards, because he’s losing his marbles.”

“ Mygran says that’s rubbish.” Piped up Neville, “She says it’s the Daily Prophet that’s going downhill, not Dumbledore.She’s cancelled our subscription.TheLongbottomsbelieve Harry.My gran’s always saidVoldemortwould come back one day. She says if Dumbledore says he’s back, he’s back.”

With both Ron and Neville loyally supporting Harry, Seamus seemed to decide it wasn’t worth further discussion andlaiddown.Harry felt a rush of warmth towards his friends.Ron seemed to be taking his earlier oath seriously, which went a long way towards repairing their friendship.He finished changing into his pajamas and went downstairs.

“Rough talk?”Hermione said, stroking his hair, having felt the tension that developed through their bond.

“Not so bad.” Harry said, “Apparently Seamus’ mum was pretty convinced by the garbage in the Daily Prophet.Ron and Neville stuck by me, though.With my friends on my side, I think I can get through this.”

“Your friends by your side and your shields up, you mean?” Hermione asked gently, “You don’t have to lie to me, Harry.I know you’ll get through this, but I know people doubting you really hurt your feelings.I remember second year, too, even though I wasn’t awake for the whole thing.”

Harry nodded. “You’re right, but getting angry doesn’t help any.I…I feel like with the extra training, I’ve got to be especially careful.The fight with Ron keeps flashing back and I realize if I reacted that way to Ron, what would I do to someone who’s not as important to me?I could kill someone without even thinking.”

“With great power comes great responsibility.” Hermione nodded.

“Who said that?” Harry asked, “Ghandi?”

“No, Spiderman.” Hermione giggled, “Do you think I only read big books?”

They settled in a big chair that was becoming ‘their’ chair, Hermione on Harry’s lap.They were careful with how far they went in the common room, but there were so few places in Hogwarts to be intimate and while not overtly sexual, their bonding practices were definitely intimate.They practiced looking at each other’s memories.Harry tried to look back through Hermione’s memories for her experiences reading comic books, trying to understand the facets of her personality that didn’t fit the preconceptions he’d built up during the years of their friendship.He wanted to really understand the playful part of her that so few got to see.Meanwhile, Hermione looked at his experiences as a child, trying to understand them better so she could help him heal.

They fell asleep after dumping every bit of magic they had into the Hogwarts wards.The wards seemed to recognize them more each time and seemed almost happy they were back.

H/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/HrH/Hr

The next morning, the ‘Islanders’ as Harry liked to think of them woke early enough to run around the lake.Apparently, Ron must have continued his physical training wherever he had gone, because he was able to keep up with those who’d stayed on the island without much more lagging than they’d noticed before.After they’d showered and dressed for the day, when they were leaving for breakfast, Hermione noticed a poster theWeasleytwins had pinned on the notice board in the common room. “Gallons of Galleons” it said, offering to pay for volunteers to test their products.

“Harry, we’ll have to talk to them!” Hermione said.

“Ok, what do you think we shouldsay.” Harry asked.

“Well…” Hermione said, thinking about it.At one time she would have insisted they stop, but she knew they were good-hearted and wouldn’t actually hurt anyone, “Maybe we can just make sure they tell the students what they’re testing and what the dangers are.No testing on first years, maybe not on second years.And if anything goes wrong, they need to promise to get to MadamePomfreyin a hurry.”

“That’s fair.” Harry said, “Do you want me to talk to them?”

“Would you?It might come off better from you than me.” Hermione sighed.

“Sure, no problem.”Harry said, “Ready to go to breakfast?”

Hermione smiled and held his hand as they walked, happy with how their partnership as Prefects was beginning.

When they walked into the Great Hall, a tall black girl with long, braided hair walked up to them.

“Hi, Angelina.”Harry said.

“Hi, Harry.” She said briskly, “Good summer?” Then without waiting for a response, “Listen, I’ve made GryffindorQuidditchCaptain.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said, smiling.Oliver Wood had been mental, so having Angelina might be a nice change of pace.

“Yeah, well we need a new Keeper now that Oliver’s left.Tryouts are Friday at five o’clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person will fit in.”

“Ok.” Harry said agreeably.Angelina smiled at him and left.

Harry made a mental note to check his planner Hermione had bought for him.His schedule would be very packed this year with the standard curriculum on top of their specialized classes as apprentices.Luckily, Professor Dumbledore was very supportive of hisQuidditchplaying and had carved out practice time.

Professor McGonagall moved down the tables, passing out schedules.

“Look at today!” Ron groaned, “History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense against the Dark Arts!”

“Well, I’m doing History of Magic as independent study.” Harry said, “With my schedule getting tighter, I realized I never learned anything fromBinns, so I’d rather just have free time to read the book and I have runes with Hermione instead of divination.I’m not looking forward to DADA with that toad woman.”

“Shhh….” Hermione said, “Don’t let her hear you.I have a feeling she’s probably touchy about that, having definitely heard it before.I’m not looking forward to it, either.Her choice of books has already shown a weak knowledge of the subject.”

While Ron went to History of Magic, Harry and Hermione went to the library.Harry quickly read the chapter, while Hermione re-read it.They quickly outlined the material and traded, filling in where they felt the other had been more complete.This generally meant Harry added the material Hermione had caught and he’d missed, but he was much better than he’d been.

Then, since this didn’t take as long as learning it from a droning ghost, they quickly put their schedules into their study planners, mapping out time for studying, for homework, forQuidditch, for reading, for together time.It was difficult to schedule everything they would be doing, because with the individual lessons with McGonagall for Hermione and Dumbledore for Harry, along withocculomencywithSnapeand dueling withFlitwick, it was going to be a very, very busy year.

They gathered with the rest of Gryffindor in the dungeon hall outside Potions.The door creaked open ominously and they took their accustomed table in the back.Snapeswept in, his robes billowing dramatically, and called for attention, unnecessarily since the class was absolutely silent.

“Before we begin, let me remind you that this year will end with an important test, the OrdinaryWizardingLevel, or OWLs.I expect each of you to achieve at least acceptable in potions.”Snapesaid, looking directly at Neville for the last, “Now this will be the last year of potions for most of you.I only take the very best into my NEWT levelclasses,whichmeans I will be saying goodbye to certain of you.” He said this looking directly at Harry. “Today, we’ll be brewing the draught of peace.The directions are on the board.Begin.”

Harry and Hermione were working almost as if synchronized, cutting together, adding ingredients together, and stirring together.Ron blundered along like he always did.Neville would never be a genius at potions, but the summer training had helped him see ProfessorSnapein a slightly better light and had also helped him build a new confidence.He was already strong atherbology, which was actually closely related to potions, so he had some of the basic knowledge and skills he needed.

At the end of class, both Harry and Hermione’s potion had the appropriate light silver vapor over their cauldron.Ron’s was spitting green sparks.Neville’s vapor was more of a dark grey, but was apparently close enough to make it into a vial for grading.AsSnapewalked around the room evaluating, he looked at Harry’s potion and sneered, “Cheating off the know-it-all, are you, Potter?”

“No, sir.”Harry said blandly asSnapesimply stalked off.

They went to lunch and then Harry and Hermione went to Ancient Runes while Ron went to Divination.Harry was happy to get away from the incense filled room, which was almost as sleep-inducing as History of Magic had been.However, Ancient Runes was a serious course, very intense for an elective.Luckily, Harry had Hermione, who was a prodigy.He had easily caught up with the class under her tutelage and with the benefits of the bond, remained near the top of the class, likely just under Hermione.That thought made him chuckle, since right under Hermione was often a very nice place to be.Her work with wards had shown him some excellent practical applications for runes and he was beginning to think he might like to pursue his own work in enchantment.He thought working with his hands and making items might be calming.

They entered the Defense class room only to find ProfessorUmbridgealready at her desk, in her trademark pink cardigan with a black bow atop her head that looked like nothing more than a giant fly, sitting atop a giant toad.

“Well, good afternoon!” she said cheerily when the whole class had sat down.

A few mumbled goodafternoonin return, which was clearly unacceptable toUmbridge.

“Tut, tut,” she said, “That won’t do, will it?I should like you to reply, ‘Good afternoon, ProfessorUmbridge’.One more time, please.Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, ProfessorUmbridge.” They chanted back at her.

“There, now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she said sweetly, “Now, wands away and quills out, please.”

There were quiet looks of despair, as that command had neverproceededan interesting lecture.

ProfessorUmbridgetapped her wand on the chalkboard and the words, “Defense against the dark arts: a return to basic principles” appeared.

“Well now, your teaching has been inconsistent, hasn’t it?” she said, “Rather disrupted and fragmented, hardly following the approved ministry curriculum.This has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the expected standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.”

Harry wondered how she knew that, since she hadn’t even asked them what they knew yet or had them demonstrate a single spell.Based on Moody’s assessment, he would bet he was far in advance of what was expected of an OWL student.

ProfessorUmbridgelisted the course aims,thenset them to reading the first chapter to themselves after again insisting they answer her in unison.Harry began to re-read the chapter, which of course Hermione had already read and insisted he read, despite the terribly written boring text.He was shocked when he sensed her agitation and looked over to see her hand raised with the book still closed on her desk.She kept her hand raised while the Professor ignored her untilfinally,the class was so distracted thatUmbridgefelt she had to respond.

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” the toad-faced woman asked.

“Not about the chapter, no.”Hermione said firmly.

“Well we’re reading just now.” SaidUmbridge, “If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class.”

“I’ve got a query about your course aims.” Hermione said.

ProfessorUmbridgeraised her eyebrows, “And your name is…?”

“Hermione Granger.”

“Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully.”Umbridgesaid.

“Well, I don’t.” Hermione said bluntly, “There’s nothing there about using defensive spells.”

The class turned again and read the aims, realizing Hermione was right.

“Using defensive spells?” ProfessorUmbridgerepeated with a little laugh, “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?”

“We’re not going to use magic?!” Ron exclaimed.

“Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. --?”

“Weasley.”Ron said, thrusting his hand in the air.

Harry and Hermione both raised their hands.Umbridgelet her eyes linger on Harry for a moment before addressing Hermione.

“Yes, Miss Granger, you wanted to ask something else?”

“Yes,” Hermione asked, “Surely the whole point of Defense Against Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”

“Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?”

“No, but…”

“Well, then, I’m afraid you’re not qualified to decide what the point of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study.You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way..”

“What use is that?” Harry said loudly, “If we’regointto be attacked, it won’t be in a….”

“Hand, Mr. Potter!” sangUmbridge.

Harry thrust his hand in the air, butUmbridgeturned away from him. Several others quickly raised their hands.

“And your name is?”Umbridgesaid to Dean.

“Dean Thomas.”

“Well, Mr. Thomas?”

“Well, it’s like Harry said, isn’t it?” Dean said, “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk-free.”

Umbridgecontinued to insist there was no reason for practical instruction in Defense.She pointed out that their last professor had used illegal curses in front of the.More and more students raised hands.

“And your name is?”Umbridgesaid sweetly.

“ParvatiPatil, and isn’t there a practical bit in our DefenseAgainstthe Dark Arts OWL? Aren’t we supposed to show that we can actually perform thecountercursesand things?”

“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason you shouldn’t be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions.”Umbridgesaid dismissively.

“Without ever practicing them before?”Parvatisaid incredulously, “Are you telling us that the first time we’ll get to do the spells will be during our exam?”

“I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough…”Umbridgeintoned.

“And what good’s theory going to be in the real world?” Harry said loudly, handraised.

“This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world.”Umbridgesaid softly.

“So we’re not supposed to be prepared for what’s waiting out there?”

“There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter.”

“Oh, yeah?”Harry said, his temper bubbling to the surface despite hisocculomency, emerging as a cool rage.

“Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?” inquiredUmbridgein a horribly honeyed voice.

“Hmmm, let’s think…” Harry said mockingly, “maybe LordVoldemort?”

There were gasps from around the room.ProfessorUmbridgedid not flinch, however.She stared at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter.”

The classroom was silent and still.Everyone was staring at eitherUmbridgeor Harry.Umbridgehad the authority of being a professor and a ministry employee behind her, but Harry’s magic rolled off him like lightning from astormcloud.Nobody could remember feeling magic like that, before.

Umbridgeeither didn’t notice or ignored it.

“Now let me make a few things plain. You have been told a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead…”

“He wasn’t dead, but yeah, he’s returned!” Harry exclaimed.

“Mr. Potter, you have already lost your house ten points, do not make matters worse for yourself.” SaidUmbridgein a single breath, “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie!”

“It is NOT a lie!” Harry said loudly, in the depths of a cold rage, “I saw him, I fought him!”

“Detention Mr. Potter!”Umbridgesaid triumphantly, “Tomorrow Evening, Five o’clock.My office.I repeat, this is a lie!The ministry of magic guarantees you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with lies aboutrebornDark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading.Page five, ‘Basics for Beginners’.”

“So you say it’s a lie?” Harry asked, “Then what gave me this scar, just a lie?” Harry said, pushing his robes up and revealing the scar from whereWormtailsliced his arm to take his blood, “He almost killed me and would have if Hermione hadn’t come and helped me.Both of us saw him, we’re not liars!”

Umbridgejust stared quietly.Harry thought she might start screaming at him, but she reigned in her temper and called him to her desk.

“Take this to Professor McGonagall.” She said shortly.

Harry left the classroom with the note.As he walked, he considered scenarios.He could call her out according to Pureblood law, since she had called him a liar.He knew he could beat her in a duel and likely even kill her legally.Hermione wouldn’t want him to do that, though, and neither would Dumbledore.He decided to table hisdecisionmakinguntil he’d talked to them and probably Ron, too.Ron might be able to craft the beststratgegyto address this problem, if he thought about it.

At McGonagall’s office he rapped on the door, ignoring Peeves’ taunts that he was going mad.He knew he wasn’t going mad, so it wasn’t hard to ignore.

“Come in.”

Harry opened the door and stepped inside.

“I’ve been sent to see you.” He said to the Gryffindor head.

“Sent, what do you mean, sent?” McGonagall asked.

Harry explained the situation and the Deputy Headmistress read the note.

“Is this true, did you yell atUmbridge?Did you call her a liar?”

“Yes, I did.” Harry said.

“You told her You-Know-Who is back?” McGonagall asked.

“I told herVoldemorthad returned, yes.” Harry answered.

“Have a biscuit, Mr. Potter.”

Harry ate one of the cookies.Finally, Professor McGonagall said,

“You must be careful, Mr. Potter.Misbehavior in DoloresUmbridge’sclass could cost you more than House Points and detentions.Use your common sense!You know where she comes from and who she works for.

“It says here she has given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow.”

“Every evening this week?”Harry repeated, horrified, “But professor, couldn’t you…?”

“No, I couldn’t.” McGonagall said flatly.

“But I was telling the truth!”

“This isn’t about truth or lies, Mr.Potter,it’s about keeping your head down and your temper under control!Have a biscuit.”

“No, thanks.”Harry said coldly.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She snapped.

“Ridiculous?” Harry said, his voice like ice, “Keeping my temper under control?” his rage was immense and the stone walls seemed to flex outward under the force of his magic, “I considered killing her there and then.I could challenge her to a duel under the Pureblood law since she called me a liar.Do you think she would survive?This is controlled, Professor McGonagall.”

He turned on his heel and began to leave.At the door, he turned back. McGonagall was silent, her mouth opened in shock.

“I’ll remember not to seek assistance from the head of my house in the future.Good day.”

He walked away realizing he would not receive support from that quarter.

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That night, Harry met with the Headmaster for his first lesson as an apprentice.He went to the Gargoyle, opened without a password, expecting him.

“Harry, my boy!”Dumbledore said, “Welcome back!”

“Thank you, Headmaster.”

“Please, call meAlbuswhen we are alone or with Miss Granger.You are my apprenticenow,I take this relationship very seriously.The chain of apprentices is like a family.I learned from NicholasFlamelland now I train you.You will be able to trace your mastery back in an unbroken lineage to Merlin himself!”

Harry was stunned.From absolutely no support being offered by Professor McGonagall, now Professor Dumbledore was calling him family.

“What is it, Harry?”Albusasked.

Harry told him the whole story about the confrontation with ProfessorUmbridgeand the subsequent meeting with Professor McGonagall.

Albusnodded and laced his fingers together in thought.

“Minerva had not yet told me of this.I see.Let me first support what Minerva said, with a caveat.We did not want Delores here.We have been forced to take her.The political situation is truly dire and my position is not as firm as I would hope.I am the absolute Master of Hogwarts, however if we are not careful, parents will begin to withdraw their children.Even if they do not, the Ministry controls the outside, so students could be blocked from the Express and might never get to Hogwarts.So, she is right, you must try to control your temper.However, I understand how it feels.You have the power to wipe this woman off the face of the map without exerting yourself and you have the legal justification.Just shouting at her had to feel like the depths ofself controlwhen you could have challenged her.

I will speak to Minerva.Meanwhile, I suggest you go to Delores’ detention just as instructed.However, you might mention to her that you have been studyingWizardingculture and are well aware you could challenge her to a duel for calling you a liar.While you are saying this, relax your control over your aura and push it out so she can feel it.I think you may have less trouble with her after that.”

Harry was shocked.He wouldn’t have expected Dumbledore to suggest something that was so aggressive.The Headmaster seemed to recognize his thoughts and chuckled.

“I know, that does not sound like something I would countenance, let alone suggest, does it?However, I know MadameUmbridge.I fear that if you let yourself be oppressed by her, she will react like a shark does to blood in the water.Far from being calmed, she is likely to do something that will incite you.At that point, I think it likely you would end up killing her and making our situation worse.Particularly if she decides to go after Hermione, I thinkyour selfcontrol would not extend so far, nor would I expect it to.Far better to stop her behavior towards you now.”

“As far as your training, I had planned for the first evening of training to be Tuesday with ProfessorFlitwick.I think we will reschedule that for Wednesday.Occulomencywill be Thursday.Quidditchon Friday.Does that work?”

“Yes,Albus, as long as ProfessorUmbridgesees the light.”Harry said, relieved.

“I have a feeling she will if you truly show her that core of yours while telling her exactly what I have told you to.”Albussaid, chuckling, “If she does not, then I fear for her.”

Harry walked back to the common room with a lot on his mind.He had rarely beensoangry as he was towardsUmbridge.Then, when he’d gotten no support from McGonagall, he’d been almost as angry at her.Loyalty meant everything to him and he believed in truth.If McGonagall didn’t, then perhaps she didn’t deserve the respect he’d always given her.

Hermione recognized his agitation the minute he walked into the common room.She climbed on to his lap facing him and massaged his shoulders.

“It’s ok.” She whispered, “You don’t need to kill anyone.Yet.”

He chuckled and relaxed a bit under her ministrations with a help from the love and support she pushed through the bond.

“I think Dumbledore’s plan is sound.” Hermione said, “Let’s run it by Ron.”

They discussed it briefly with Ron who thought for a few minutes.

“Well, Mate, I agree with him.” Ron said, “The only thing to be careful of is that if she doesn’t react rationally, you may need to duel.Are you ready for that?”

Harry nodded.He hadn’t expected it to get to that point so quickly, but he wouldn’t be called a liar.He also wouldn’t put Hermione at risk, exposed to that woman constantly.It was time to pull her teeth one way or another.

“How did your meeting go?” Harry asked.

“Well.” Hermione responded, “Much the same as yours, minus the discussion of theUmbridgeissue.She did ask me what happened and I told her, but we didn’t discuss it further.We planned my schedule, which sounds very similar to yours.Mastery level transfiguration on Monday evenings, which will really just be checking in on the independent work I’m doing.Defense on Tuesdays withFlitwick.Wednesdays free, except apparently this Wednesday, when we’ll reschedule Defense because of your detention.Thursdays forocculomency.Fridays free.”

“Sounds good.I’m really looking forward to it and I know you must be thrilled.”

“You have no idea!” Hermione said with a huge grin, “A masterywith McGonagall will open so many doors.A transfigurationmastery from the lineage ofFlamellis really something to be proud of!”

They worked on homework for the rest of the evening.Harry studied tomorrow’s lesson in transfiguration with utmost focus,suprisingHermione.

“Why are you working so hard on the disappearing charm?” she asked.

“Professor McGonagall made me mad today.” Harry tried to explain, “I’m going to show her what I’m capable of.”

Hermione nodded, understanding his motivation, but concerned about the rift between her favorite teacher who she had just apprenticed to and her fiancée.

Harry cast the spell over and over again, applying the concepts they’d learned in their summer training.Repetition waskey, training slowly and carefully, striving for accuracy over speed at first and repeating until speed came naturally.Harry found he was learning how to learn better.The process was the same no matter what spell you wanted to master and he soon found himself making tiny wand movements and casting non-verbally with consistently good results.He had a huge advantage over other wizards in training because of his abnormally large magical core.He could practice for hours without exhausting himself, giving himself more repetitions to get good at a spell.Given that he was already a natural at practical application, that many repetitions usually led him quickly to mastering the spell.

This time he had the added advantage of an almost fully completed bond with a transfiguration apprentice.Hermione was very competitive and didn’t want to look like she wasworkinglessthan Harry at transfiguration when she was the apprentice.So she worked likeahouseelf to master the spell.She benefitted from Harry’s work as the skill bled over the bond and he benefitted from her work, so it was effectively like they did double the repetitions.

Soon, he tried the spellwandlessly.Hermione, seeing that, growled at him and began doing the same thing.By bedtime they were even succeeding in that.He had always performed better when emotionally motivated and he really, really wanted to show McGonagall that he was worth her support.

That night, during their bonding practice, Hermione had him practice pushing his aura out as far as he could,manifestingthe entirety of his magical core without hiding any of it.It was similar to what Hermione had done as she prepared toapparateout through the Hogwarts wards during thethethird task and those sensitive enough to feel her magic realized she was a mage-level witch.

He got better and better at it.It was almost the opposite of what he’d learned from her last year, when he’d learned to mimic her habit of drawing her aura in tightly, perfectly controlled.Instead, this was allowing the core free reign and his magic pulsated out through the common room.He noticed several of the girls looking over at him and whispering amongst themselves.

“Why are they staring?” Harry whispered to Hermione.

“Well,” Hermione started, wondering how to phrase it, “some writers have theorized that nature has prepared witches to be attracted to the most powerful wizard they can attract, so they can give birth to the most magically powerful offspring possible.It’s one explanation for the fact that most witches find a powerful magical aura…arousing.”

“Really?”Harry asked, surprised.

“Yes, really.”Hermione smiled, “You never wondered why you get so much female attention?”

“Well, I thought it was because I was famous.” Harry admitted.

“That too.”

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The next morning started with their usual routine.They ran despite the gray leaden morning, showered, dressed, and ate.

In charms, ProfessorFlitwickgave a speech on the importance of the OWL year and set them to practicing summoning charms, a spell that was now somewhat of a specialty of Harry’s, given its importance to his completion of the first task and his subsequent obsessive practice of it with the goal to be able to practice itwandlesslyin case he ever lost his wand in a duel.He and Hermione exchanged a look.

“Think ProfessorFlitwickis going to have you summoningfirsties, Harry?” Hermione teased.

“Well, if he does, I’ll be ready, huh?”

“Excuseme,is there something you’re discussing that you want to share with the class, Mr. Potter?” ProfessorFlitwickasked.He was a very nice professor, but a stickler for applying yourself in his class.

“No, sir.”Harry replied, waving his hand and summoning his wand.

The half-goblin’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in a perfect O of surprise.

“Excuse me, Mr. Potter, could you do that again?”

Harry nodded and summoned a book off the Professor’s desk.

“Oh, well done, Mr. Potter!” ProfessorFlitwicksaid and looked at Hermione.

She demonstrated the same ability, summoning another book of his deskwandlessly.

“Very good!Now, given your special curriculum, I will add that you should not show all of your abilities to everyone, but as a teacher I am very impressed!” he said quietly.

In transfiguration, Professor McGonagall was even more adamant about the importance of OWLs.

“You cannot pass an OWL” said Professor McGonagall grimly, “without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work.” Seeing Neville making a sad little disbelieving face, she added, “Yes, you too, Mr.Longbottom. There is nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So, today we are starting with Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you usually would not attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL.”

Harry was happy to see that as she circulated, would observe Hermione before him, because even though he did want to impress her, he wanted Hermione to have the chance to impress her first, since she was McGonagall’s apprentice.He wouldn’t ‘let’ Hermione beat him, but neither did he need to let her.They were even and just the order the Professor was observing in would allow Hermione to shine.

Shine she did.With a wave of her hand she vanished her snail, a fairly simple living target, since it was an invertebrate, but still very impressive for a fifth year student.McGonagall was very impressed.

“Miss Granger, 20 points for Gryffindor!I obviously have chosen very well.”

Then she looked at Harry.He could tell by the thin set of her lips she was still unhappy with him.That was ok, he was unhappy with her, too.

He waved his hand and his snail disappeared.

To say McGonagall was shocked would be an understatement.

“Mr. Potter, please do that again, slowly.”

Harry slowly waved his hand over the next snail, which also disappeared.

“With your wand and the incantation, please?”

“Evanesco” Harry incanted with the smallest flick of his wand, again disappearing the snail, much more easily when using the full spell.

“Well, I am impressed, Mr. Potter.”

“Thank you.” He said smugly, “I wonder if it works on toads.”

At that she scowled and continued on.Hermione began working with Ron to help him with the spell while Harry worked with Neville.By the very end of class, both of them were able tovanishtheir snails.

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That afternoon, Harry’s day was made even a bit better.Luna and Ginny passed them leavingHerbologyas Harry, Hermione, and Ron were in Care of Magic Creatures.

“ Ibelieve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, and I believe you fought him and escaped from him.”

There was silence as everyone took her statement in.

Ginny just giggled, “Hi, Harry.You know I believe you thatVoldemort’sback.”

She and Luna walked away after Luna said, “Hi, Ronald.”

Ernie MacMillan took the opportunity to step up to him.

“I want you to know, Potter,” he said in a loud, carrying voice, “that it’s not onlyweirdoswho support you.I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I.”

“Er, thanks very much, Ernie.” Harry said, “By the way, Luna’s not really a weirdo.She’s a good friend, but I still appreciate your support.”

Harry was able to go on with his day significantly buoyed by the expressions of support from his friends and from one fellow Prefect who wasn’t more than an acquaintance.

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That evening, Harry ate a very early dinner and walked to the DADA professor’s office.He knocked and was admitted to the office.He was very familiar, having been inside frequently, but he could barely believe it was the same office, every surface covered in lace doilies and plates with kittens covering the wall.It was disturbing.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter.”Umbridgesmiled sweetly, “Are you ready for your detention?”

“Umm… yeah.”Harry replied, “That’s why I’m here, ProfessorUmbridge.”

“Very well.”Umbridgesaid, handing him a long black quill with a very sharp tip, “I want you to write ‘I must not tell lies.’”.

“Ok,” Harry replied, “Only you haven’t given me any ink.”

“You won’t need ink.”Umbridgesaid, the cloying sweetness of her voice sounding almost evil.

Harry wrote ‘I must not tell lies’ seeing the words appear in shining red ink.He almost gasped as the words appeared on the back of his right hand cut as if by a scalpel.They almost instantly healed, leaving just an area of redness.He shifted his vision to include auras and saw the black aura around the pen.He sensed the enchantments on the pen and thought he could probably pick them apart if he chose to, but he decided this was one more thing he could use againstUmbridge.He began to write the lines, falling into an almost meditative state.A weird mixture of determination,occulomenticdetachment, and deep, deep rage came over him as he wrote line after line.He didn’t look atUmbridge, not wanting her to see that he was discomforted by the quill in the least.Hours passed as he wrote line after line, the cuts in his hand remaining longer with each line he inscribed.

Finally,Umbridgestopped him.He noticed it was full dark outside.

“Come here.” She said,thenexamined his hand.

“Tut, tut, I don’t seem to have made much of an impression yet,” she said smiling, “Well, we’ll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won’t we?You may go.”

Harry stepped back from her desk slightly.

“Do you still say I’m a liar when I sayVoldemort’sback?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, you’re an attention-seeking liar.”Umbridgesaid in her little girl voice, “I thought you realized that’s what I was trying to break you of with these lines.Maybe you’re a slow learner.”

Harry released his control and pushed his magical aura out to its greatest potential.He felt his magic flowing outward in waves.He lookedUmbridgein the eye, his eyes glowing green.

“Do you realize I’m Harry James Potter, Lord Potter,Headof House Potter?”

“Mmm..and why should I care, Mr. Potter, what titles you claim for yourself?”Umbridgesaid, sweetly, but something in her eyes showed she was concerned.

“Because I am learningWizardingculture from my Godfather, Lord Sirius Black, Head of House Black, who has named me his heir.He taught me the laws on dueling.Calling me a liar is the simplest way of starting a duel.Now you’ve given me a second reason by using a cursed object to draw the blood of House Potter.Was provoking a duel your intent?”

ProfessorUmbridgelooked confused.

“I thought you were raised in aMugglehousehold, Mr. Potter?”

“Lord Potter.” Harry corrected, “I was, but since my Godfather was released and his name was cleared, I’ve lived with him.I repeat myquestion,do you intend to provoke a duel?”

“Hem, hem.”Umbridgecleared her throat, trying to think, “Mmmm… no, I just wanted to teach you not to… I mean…”

“So you don’t want to duel?” Harry asked, still staring into her eyes.

“Why would the DefenseAgainstthe Dark Arts Professor need to duel a fifth year student?”Umbridgesaid, trying to regain the initiative.

“Because if you don’t retract you accusation that I’m a liar, I’m going to challenge you to one?”Harry said, “Having the Black library at my disposal has been so informative.I used to favor the disarming curse, but since I learned the bone breaker curse, the organ expelling curse, piercing, cutting, and flaming curses, I hardly ever use the disarming curse anymore.Maybe I can show you?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” ProfessorUmbridgefinally said, “As I said before, I can’t imagine a reason for a fifth year student to need a practical component.”

“Then we’re understood?”

“I think so, Lord Potter.”

“Very well.”Harry said, “I don’t think you’ll need my presence again tomorrow, will you?”

“No, I think you learned your lesson.”

“I think the lesson was learned, yes.” Harry said, staring directly into her eyes, “Good evening, Professor.”

“Good evening, Lord Potter.”

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A/N: I saw where JKR said Hermione was “borderline genius at points”.Borderline?Hermione is the top student of Hogwarts, the foremost magical school in the world and is acknowledged by many to be the brightest witch of her age.At any given school I attended, there were at least a handful of students who technically met the definition of genius.Hermione is definitely a genius.Harry is likely a genius, but at least borderline. Of course, the definition of genius is going to be controversial, so this can be argued, but I strongly feel she was a genius.

From here, the story will begin Harry’s Apprentice training, the portion that inspired the title.

19. The Machine

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don’t profit from my writing.

Chapter 19: The Machine

Harry woke with one thought on his mind and for once, it wasn’t Hermione. Today was the first day of their defense curriculum as part of his and Hermione’s apprenticeship. At first, he’d dismissed Professor Flitwick, like most of the students did. The man was very small, smaller than Harry. He was so nice; he almost never assigned detentions or took away house points. However, as Harry had gotten better at Quidditch, he’d noticed some strange similarities between Filius Flitwick and some of the best players Harry saw or played against. There was something in how he moved that set off some trigger in Harry’s mind that said ‘here is one of the good players, watch this one’, but as far as Harry knew, Flitwick didn’t even play Quidditch.

The feeling had gotten stronger as Harry had built his skills preparing for the tournament. The fake Moody was not that skilled a duelist, but he was a grown wizard and Death Eater, so he was good enough for a 14 year old boy to hone his skills against, and Harry had taken full advantage. He had quickly developed good situational awareness and the fledgling instinct in him alarmed when Professor Flitwick came into the room. Harry wasn’t sure whether it was his eyes, which while friendly, were always moving, always alert. It might have been his walk, always balanced, always smooth. His wandwork was perfection and he was one of the most skilled wizards at Hogwarts.

Of course, with Hermione around, his observations hadn’t remained idle musing. When that idiot Lockhart had started the dueling club, they’d all heard Professor Flitwick had some sort of past as a duelist. That was enough temptation for Hermione and she’d done the research. There were old newspaper articles mentioning him as the all-European champion for several consecutive years in the early 1900s. Some of them hinted at underground dueling in Heidelberg, but none openly mentioned anything other than his participation in the completely legal and open professional dueling circuit. The Pureblood extremists at that time had initially underestimated him due to his size and rumors of part-Goblin ancestry. Once he won, the circuits had grown in popularity, at least in part due to Purebloods seeking to prove that Flitwick’s initial victory was a fluke. Based on later papers, they had been unsuccessful and he’d retired at the top of the circuit to continue his education.

Harry was very excited to have that kind of experience in a teacher and he knew that Flitwick was amongst the nicest of the professors at Hogwarts, but it was still intimidating. He’d finally become accustomed to Moody’s drill sergeant mentality, but even he was still intimidating after months of working together. Beginning fresh with a new teacher was frightening. What if he decided Harry didn’t have the potential to be a decent duelist? What if he wasn’t worth teaching? Harry knew he had a gnat’s chance in hell of ultimately defeating Voldemort, but without a better education focused on his special needs, he suspected even that chance would disappear.

Even aside from the life or death consequences Harry faced every day, he was also a teenaged boy and the possibility of utter humiliation was more frightening in its own way, because it was more real. Hermione would be part of their lesson today and if she thought he was pants, he’d be crushed. His conscious mind knew she believed in him no matter what, but there was a deep down part of him, probably influenced by his treatment by the Dursleys, that always knew he wasn’t good enough and eventually everyone around him would figure it out.

With most people, those thoughts would have made him anxious, probably visibly nervous. For Harry, it just made him appear quiet and brooding. Meanwhile, on the inside, his subconscious was processing. His memory, while not obviously as superior as Hermione’s, was subtly working in the background, digesting every movement he’d ever seen of the Professor’s, every spell he’d ever read or seen in defense, every dodge or duck he himself had ever made. The reptile portion of his brain was preparing and all it knew was kill or be killed.

“Hey, Harry, you’re quiet this morning.” Hermione said, looking sideways at him. She could sense some of the turmoil happening under the surface, but most of it was so many levels down in the primitive parts of his brain that she couldn’t interpret it all.

“Just nervous.” Harry said, “First real defense lesson today, you know?”

“Oh, but Harry, Professor Flitwick’s nice.” Hermione answered, “He won’t do anything to hurt you.”

Harry glanced at her, wondering how to phrase everything he was thinking.

“I’m not worried about him not being nice,” Harry explained, “but in defense, everything’s different. You can’t really do it unless you do it all the way. He won’t hold back or he won’t teach me anything. I just don’t want to look stupid, that’s all.”

Hermione understood his motivations in some ways better than anyone. Not looking stupid on any test of any sort was just her type of anxiety. What she had a more difficult time understanding was how Harry processed that emotion and how for him it was occurring on a deeper, more primitive level, where instead of concern for grades, Harry’s inner demons smelled blood. These kinds of thoughts came across the bond confused if not absent all together.

The day passed in a blur for Harry, as he paid attention with his conscious mind in classes, but his subconscious mind kept analyzing and preparing for the real course later that day. All others saw on the outside was Harry brooding, but anyone with any sensitivity knew not to disturb him. Even Malfoy avoided him. After a light dinner, Harry and Hermione went to a classroom they’d never seen before in the basement. The door was heavy steel and warded with intricate runes of protection, some of them familiar from the basement door at Grimmauld place. It opened without a squeal, the heavy weight of it offset by a perfect balance. Once the door was shut, Harry called Dobby and Hermione called Winky to robe them in their dedicated dueling robes. Then they walked to a table with chairs that was the only furniture in the cavernous space. Sitting around the table were several familiar faces, Remus, Sirius, Moody, Flitwick, McGonagall and Dumbledore.

“Harry! Hermione!” Albus Dumbledore said, standing and conjuring squashy armchairs for the two students, “Welcome! We are here to discuss the defense portion of your apprenticeships.

While I have mastery in defense, I am going to allow Professor Flitwick to head this portion of your education for now, while I might take more of a hand later, depending on what is needed.”

Professor Flitwick nodded when his name was mentioned, but was otherwise very quiet and focused.

“I have agreed to allow time for Hermione to participate in this training, as well.” Professor McGonagall said in her burr, “While it’s not a traditional part of a transfiguration mastery, I know she’ll be needing it for what’s going to happen with You-Know-Who. Depending on how it progresses, we may choose to make defense simply a sub-area of concentration within your transfiguration mastery. Alternatively, if you progress far enough, Hermione, we may be able to have Professor Flitwick or the Headmaster advance you as a candidate for mastery.”

“So you understand why you’re here and what you’ll be doing?” Professor Dumbledore continued, “If so, I’m going to leave you to Professor Flitwick’s capable hands.”

“All right.” Professor Flitwick said softly, “Let’s begin. I’ve spoken to the instructors involved in your summer work. They’ve described your curriculum and given me their impressions on your progress. If their assessments are accurate, we’ll be able to move directly into the dueling curriculum as it was taught to me by my master. However, if you have any need for remediation, we’ll need to deal with that first, as I set a very demanding pace of my mastery candidates and will have no time to address deficiencies as we go.

“Once we do decide to begin, you’ll have a different ‘guest instructor’ every week, who will work with you under my tutelage to master the objectives I have. There will be dueling, but it will be purposeful, controlled, and designed by me to instill and test certain capabilities. In other words, while it may seem free-form, It will not be. At times I may set certain limitations, such as use of only one hex or one class of hexes. Sometimes apparition will be allowed in this room and sometimes warded against. At times you will be allowed, even encouraged to cast shield charms, other times you will be unable.

You may be curious about my qualifications. Soon after my graduation from Hogwarts, I sought additional education, starting my mastery of charms in Heidelberg. There has been a long martial tradition at Heidelberg amongst both muggle and wizarding students. As the muggles have moved away from use of the sword, the saber tradition is fading, but among wizards, the duel is as alive as ever. I initially became only peripherally involved in one of the dueling clubs, but as time went on, I became more and more focused on dueling to the exclusion of my more traditional education. I eventually postponed my charms mastery while I earned a defense mastery and got involved in the professional dueling circuit, winning several championships. Later, I retired as a duelist and returned to my charms work, earning my mastery in charms before coming back to Hogwarts to teach.

Hermione listened, comparing his words to what she had read about him and what she’d surmised when she’d read between the lines. She thought he was telling the truth, but also thought he was not telling the whole truth and was actively downplaying what she knew was one of the most successful dueling careers of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, despite his mixed heritage which motivated many opponents to enter tournaments merely to try to defeat the mixed-blood.

“I’ve set 20 dummies at the far end of the room. Please destroy five of them each as quickly as possible with full incantations.”

Essentially a repeat of their final exercise on the island, both teens rapidly destroyed the dummies.

“Now four more, silently.”

They complied, going even faster without the need for incantation, although it weakened their spell strength somewhat, they were both powerful casters and their spells did not noticeably suffer.

“Ok, final challenge. If possible, I want you to destroy the final dummy wandlessly.”

They had each drilled a limited repertoire of spells endlessly over the summer. Harry thought about his best spell to destroy a dummy wandlessly and finally, after a significant period of concentration, managed a powerful wandless reductor curse that completely destroyed his dummy. Hermione destroyed hers with a similar blasting hex soon after.

Flitwick nodded, keeping a neutral expression. “Very good. I agree with your instructors’ evaluations. Now, I’m going to practice with you each individually. I want you to cast a bludgeoning hex at me. I will block it and then cast a bludgeoning hex at you. Please block it and then cast at me. We will move faster and faster until we reach the maximum speed we can accurately perform the drill. Harry, you’re first. Begin.”

Harry cast a silent bludgeoning hex, which Flitwick blocked with a silent protego shield. Flitwick cast a bludgeoning hex at Harry, who blocked it, then cast at Flitwick. They continued the drill until the spells were flying as quickly as human ability to block and return fire. Harry began to break a sweat before Filius ended the drill.

“Excellent!” the part-goblin wizard said, grinning, “Now Hermione.”

They performed the drill very similarly.

“Ok, let’s test your accuracy more carefully.” Professor Flitwick said, “Destroy these snitches with piercing charms. Go!”

He opened a box of snitches at the far end of the room. Tiny, fast-moving targets, these special snitches moved randomly and fell inert as they were hit by the focused blast of piercing charms. Harry was, of course, a natural at seeing and finding the small targets with his spells, but Hermione was also exceptional.

“Wonderful!” Filius said when they were finished, “I can see that your instructors managed to ingrain the basic skills of the duel in you without teaching you any bad habits. I can work with you. I look forward to seeing you next Tuesday.”

Harry felt a huge let down. This was it? This was just a continuation of what they’d done that summer. He’d thought the dueling champion would somehow have more to offer, would challenge him more in some way. Flitwick seemed to notice Harry expression.

“I normally wouldn’t do this, but sometimes exceptional students need further evaluation. If we were to spar or practice duel, I could test how you react in a more realistic engagement. Further, I think it’s good that I show you my skills and frankly, keep you from being too cocky, which is one of the dangers of having above-average natural talent. Remember, there are hundreds of above average natural talents.” Flitwick said, pointedly looking at Harry, “And there are tens of wizards willing to invest thousands of hours to try to reach the top tier of the dueling world.” He said looking at Hermione, “But at the top you will only find those wizards who were born with an exceptional natural talent and then spent thousands on thousands of hours nurturing it. Could that be you? Perhaps. Now are you prepared to face me, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, sir, I’d like that.”

Flitwick had walked over to the table and picked up a flask, apparently thirsty. The drink inside was a clear golden color. Filius took a sip and recapped it. Then he walked to stand opposite Harry.

“Remus, you were Mr. Potter’s DADA Professor once, if you’d perhaps say when to begin?

“Gentle wizards, do you both stand ready?” Remus asked, waiting until each acknowledged readiness, before continuing, “Then begin!”

Harry started to cast a spell, but had to leap aside as Flitwick’s wand sang through the air and spells popped off like fluff blown off a dandelion in a high wind. Colored streaks shot towards Harry and it was all he could do with his natural-seeker reflexes, augmented by Ashdown’s training, to dodge, duck, and weave away. Harry finally managed to dive out of the way with his wand poised and sent a stunning curse and a disarming curse at Filius. The champion duelist didn’t change tempo as he blocked them and sent ten answering hexes at Harry, chaining a new attack on the end of each completed wand movement, so that his wand never stopped, inscribing a single complicated figure through the air. Harry kept dodging, occasionally blocking a spell with a protego charm. Every fifth or sixth attack of Filius’, Harry managed to complete a spell and send it back at the master. Filius tended to block them, but occasionally side-stepped if one was near to being wide of the mark.

This was what Harry was looking for! He felt the worries of the day disappear as his blood sang through his vessels. He had no time to think. His wand danced faster than his heartbeat and he felt truly at peace as the maelstrom of spell fire around him finally drowned out the stresses of being ‘the-boy-who-lived’. The reptile portion of his mind took over and that part had no concept of worry, no concept of anxiety. It knew movement and biting and would not stop until it won or died. As that portion of his mind took over, Harry didn’t understand what it was, although if he thought using his Hermione-side he could describe or even quantify it. To him, though, it was like a robot-self taking over. A faster, more combat-oriented robot-self that Harry decided on a whim to call ‘the machine’.

Harry finished dodging a nasty bone-breaker hex, just as a handful of reductor curses shot straight at him, exploding from Flitwick’s wand like links on a fine chain. Harry blocked, blocked, blocked, somehow parrying all five, before his wand slid from the movements of protego straight into the motion of his own reductor curse. He learned from what his teacher did and didn’t stop between curses, letting the motion of one slide into the motion of the next, one, two, three!

Filius was not a master of defense and champion duelist for nothing, though; he coolly blocked Harry’s best attempts with a mere flick of his wrist, before spinning out of the way of the follow-up attack. His wand a blur, the dueling champion sent an endless stream of bright streaks Harry’s way. Harry blocked, he dodged, he managed to avoid the first double handful, but found the more experienced fighter had planned on him successfully dodging the first ones, sending the later spells at the exact right place so each dodge had to be bigger and put him further out of balance. Finally, he couldn’t keep his balance, having to jump further and further, and was eventually clipped by a bludgeoning hex, that knocked his leg out from under him. A disarming hex took his wand away, but the machine never quit, reaching for his back-up wand as soon as his primary left his fingers. Unfortunately, a stunning spell hit before he’d even struck the ground. All was dark.

Harry woke to Hermione leaning over him.

“Wow, Harry, that was amazing!” she said excitedly.

“Erm…but I lost.” Harry said, confused.

“Sure, you did.” Hermione gushed, “You weren’t going to beat a dueling champion on your first try, but you were actually able to push him a little. Think of what you’ll be able to do after he teaches you!”

Harry nodded his head, grateful his other-self didn’t think he’d failed. He felt he could do anything as long as she believed in him and she always had.

“Good job, Harry.” Remus said.

“Good job, pup.” Sirius said, ruffling his hair, “You’ve got some moves!”

“I agree with your uncles, Mr. Potter.” Filius said with a grin, “I’ve rarely had a beginning student stretch me to that extent. When I had to shift my feet, you truly surprised me. Now, I hadn’t planned on that, so you’ll need to hurry back to your dorms to miss curfew. Be sure to get a lot of sleep. Your first high-level duel will take more energy out of you than you’d think.”

“Thanks, Professor.” Harry said, shaking the shorter man’s hand.

“Thank you.” The professor said back with a grin, “I think I’m going to enjoy this term.”

Harry and Hermione hurried out of the dueling classroom, rushing to the Gryffindor entrance to avoid curfew, although as prefects they probably would avoid punishment, unless they were on patrol, they were expected to honor curfew.

After they were gone and the door was closed, a combination disillusionment and shielding charm was taken down on the side of the classroom away from the door. Seated there were Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Madame Pomphrey, and Ron Weasley.

“Well, that boy was born to use a wand!” McGonagall gushed, “I’ve seen his talent on the pitch, but didn’t suspect it would carry over to dueling. I agree with Sirius, he’s got moves, he does!”

Albus chuckled, “Yes, he would probably be surprised to learn he could make it midway through the professional dueling circuit before encountering difficulty.”

“Halfway?” Snape sneered, “Those fools wouldn’t stop him at halfway. Filius took a partial dose of felix felicis and Potter still held his own.”

“I have sometimes suspected that the boy has natural felix-type luck.” Albus mused, “But that’s neither here nor there, unless I were willing to have the Unspeakables evaluate him some day. I was rather amazed, too, at his performance.”

“Yes, I had planned to dominate him completely without humiliating him.” Filius said, analyzing the recent duel, “I’ve come to the conclusion that he’ll do his best work when he’s extremely challenged, what would be completely overwhelming for most people, but without crushing him. Humiliating him or treating him badly would lose rapport, but I did not mean to let him do so well. I was just as surprised he was able to do so, particularly after I took felix.”

“We’ll have to carefully monitor the doses and schedules for his opponents to take felix. I’ve been stockpiling it, but it’s not safe to take frequently or in high doses.” Snape said, “This will be an interesting school year.”

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Harry trudged up to Gryffindor tower with Hermione helping him. He was sore all over, feeling like he’d played a hard game of Quidditch, complete with crashing into the turf and with a roaring case of magical exhaustion over it all.

“He was every bit as good as I thought he was.” Harry muttered, “I think he was taking it easy on me, too.”

“Well, maybe.” Hermione mused, “Did you expect to beat a professor on your first day of lessons as a fifth year? Am I talking to my Harry or is Ron impersonating you? You’ve never been scared of a little hard work.”

Harry looked at her with a little hurt in his eyes before stopping to think about what she said. He was silent for most of the trip up to the common room.

“Ok, I deserved that.” Harry admitted, “It’s just that I eventually have to be able to take on Voldemort and everyone’s said Dumbledore is the only one he’s scared of. Nobody ever said Voldemort was afraid of Flitwick. So I’ve got to be better than Professor Flitwick and I’m not sure how long I’ll have to get there.”

It was Hermione’s turn to be silent. Finally, she turned to Harry outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“I don’t know how long you’ll have to get there, either, Harry,” Hermione said, her eyes shining, “but I know I’ll help you as much as I can and I’ll give you all the motivation in the world to get there.”

The image in her mind of messy black-haired children with green eyes coming off the Quidditch pitch with a book in hand came across the bond as loud as if it had been shouted, resonating with Harry’s most deeply held dreams. He knew what she meant and heard what she didn’t explicitly say. She would give him the motivation to fight and to live.

That night their bond was saturated with thoughts of love and hope. There was a long path filled with incredibly hard work in front of them both, but they were willing to walk it together.

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Thursday passed uneventfully, Harry barely able to drag himself out of bed for their morning run. He kept his head down in potions, knowing that setting off Snape would be a bad idea with their occlumency lesson scheduled for later that day. He carefully worked on his potion and didn’t react to the evil looks from the potion’s professor. He didn’t even react when Malfoy tried to sabotage his potion by flipping an eye of newt into his cauldron, just wandlessly vanished the debris as it came near. Malfoy never even noticed, just assuming he missed.

That night, they made their way to the potion classroom again for their lesson. Professor Snape had made it clear that during the school year, he only planned to teach Harry and Hermione, who’d encouraged the others to keep practicing on their own.

“Ah, my remedial students.” Snape said as they entered, “Sometimes I wonder if these lessons are more for your benefit or are the Headmaster’s test of my patience. Today, I have planned something different. You somehow have managed to continue your track record of adequacy in occlumency. I will need to cement that mediocrity, as I am sure that left to your own devices, you would manage to slide into total incompetency, however, for now I want to work more with you on the related art of legilimency. I do not expect nor do I need for you to become master legilimens. However, I do want you to become at least partially skilled in this art for two reasons. First, it will let you continue to test each other’s defenses. Second, and more importantly, it may be useful in your dueling, Mr. Potter. However, that is an extremely advanced form of legilimency, as you must be able to do it wandlessly and without distracting you too much from your defense. I have my doubts whether you’ll be able to achieve this, but I have promised the Headmaster I would do my best with you two despite your limitations, so let us begin.”

Professor Snape was a hard taskmaster, but he’d also proven to be a better teacher in small settings than he was in the potions classroom. They left the potions classroom exhausted, but feeling they’d made progress.

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The weekend began with the Quidditch tryouts on Friday. Having ‘convinced’ Professor Umbridge to cancel his detentions, Harry was able to be there with his team, much to Angelina’s relief. That morning, Harry caught Ron in the common room before their run.

“Hey, Ron.” Harry said, “You know those oaths we swore?”

“Yeah, Mate.” Ron replied, “What about them?”

“You meant it, right?” Harry asked.

“Of course!” Ron said, starting to get angry, “It was a magical oath. I couldn’t not mean it!”

“Right,” Harry continued, “didn’t mean to imply that, just wanted to be sure you understood I meant mine, too.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked suspiciously.

“He means,” Hermione said, coming down the girl’s staircase with a long, wrapped package, “that when he said he’d treat you like family, he meant he’d treat you like family and I think he’s hoping you won’t make a fuss over it. Merry Christmas early, Ron. It’s from Harry and I.”

Ron’s eyes were wide as he recognized what the package must be, since few things had that shape.

“You didn’t.” Ron said, his hand reaching out to the package and pulling back indecisively, “It’s too much.”

“You don’t even know what it is, yet, Mate.” Harry said, pushing his friend, “Open it.”

Ron ripped the packaging off and found just what he’d hoped for, a new broom.

“It’s the new Cleansweep!” Ron exclaimed, “Best Broomstick said this was a best buy! Said it accelerates nought to seventy in ten seconds. Wow, this is great!”

“So you like it?” Harry asked with a smile, “I wanted to give it to you earlier, so you could practice with it before the tryout, but it just came by owl yesterday.”

“I love it!” Ron said, “I don’t know though, it really seems like too much. I don’t think my parents would want me to accept it.”

“Well, we can’t take it back, Ron.” Hermione sighed, “It was on sale and they threw in personalization, so they won’t take returns.”

Ron looked down at the shaft of the broom, where ‘Ron Weasley’ was burned into the handle in a fancy script.

“Well, if they won’t take it back, there’s not much they could say, is there?” Ron said stunned, “Thanks, guys! Hey, maybe we could skip the run this morning and go flying, instead?”

“Sure!” Harry agreed.

Hermione just shook her head, but went back to her room to grab her own broom.

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In the common room that night, the ‘Golden Trio’ was sitting together. Ron and Harry were playing chess while Hermione read a book.

“Did you see me when I blocked that shot from Alicia?” Ron said excitedly, “I’ve read about the tail drag half spin maneuver, but never expected I’d be able to make it work!”

“Yeah, you were amazing, Ron.” Ginny said, stifling a yawn as she walked up to them, “They may just recruit you out of school for the pros.”

“Well, I was pretty good.” Ron said to his sister.

“Yeah, you weren’t bad.” She admitted, “Which is good, because I can’t imagine McLaggen on the team. He’s a douche.”

“Thanks, sis.” Ron said, “You did really well, too. You’d be on any other house’s team.”

“You mean any team without Harry on it?” Ginny said with a smirk, “Yeah, you’re right. I think I’ll try out for Chaser, next year.”

“Hang in there, Gin.” Harry said, absentmindedly, while considering his next move, “You made the reserve team. If I can’t play, you’re in.”

Harry moved his Queen, while contemplating the terrible position he was in.

“Mate.” Ron said, moving his Bishop and completing the trap he’d set.

“Bugger.” Harry muttered.

“Maybe if you’re lucky.” Hermione whispered to him with a smirk.

Ginny blushed scarlet, having overheard Hermione’s whisper.

“You haven’t?” she hissed.

“Not yet.” Hermione whispered back, “Why, have you?”

“Am I missing something?” Ron said confused.

“I don’t think you’re missing anything you want to hear, Mate.” Harry said, trying to distract him, “Hey, Neville, want to play? Ron’s looking for a challenge.”

Hermione and Ginny drifted over to the corner of the common room whispering while Ron and Neville played. Luna came in through the portrait, having been given the password, a definite violation of the rules, but a frequent one for the Ravenclaw who’d been semi-adopted into Gryffindor.

Another Friday night passed at Hogwarts and all was well.

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The next week began and the second Defense against the Dark Arts class arrived. The tension was palpable as the class waited to see what Harry would say and what Umbridge would do. Harry had spent hours thinking about the situation. He’d spent time during his occlumency meditations trying to decide what would happen if he took different approaches to Umbridge. He’d even resorted to asking Ron for strategic advice. Ron had pointed out what he’d already figured out on his own. He could do what he longed to do and push Professor Umbridge for an apology, but the toad-like woman was likely to decide that she couldn’t let a fifth year, no matter who, show her that level of disrespect. She might decide she was willing to duel. While Harry was sure he’d win, which Ron agreed with, he wasn’t sure he could avoid seriously hurting Umbridge. When he reframed the conflict in its most simple terms, he’d decided his ego would have to tolerate a little bruising as it wasn’t worth killing a woman to satisfy it.

So Harry sat quietly through DADA. Hermione kept her head down as well, although Harry could feel her seething through the bond. After an entire double length class spent doing nothing but reading the insipid text, she almost ran out of the room.

“We’ve got to do something.”

Harry only found out what she’d decided they had to do later that night, in the common room. The idealist who’d conceived of SPEW was fed up. Her academic side couldn’t stand the thought of the poor preparation they were receiving for their DADA OWL, even though intellectually she knew they were already over prepared given their summer work. For Hermione, it was the principle. She also worried that others weren’t as prepared as the Black Isle crew.

“Harry, I’ve decided what we need to do.” Hermione said.

“About what?” Harry asked, having trouble picking up the conversation with no context.

“Defense!” Hermione cried, exasperated, “We have to do something! Harry, Umbridge isn’t teaching us anything! We have to learn somehow or we’re not going to be ready for our Defense OWL at the end of the year. Well, to be honest, we won’t have a problem, but we should consider our classmates, right? What we need is a real teacher.”

“A real teacher?” Harry replied, “That’s a good idea. Someone like Remus. He’s the best teacher we’ve had for DADA ever. Even the fake Moody was better than average and he was a Death Eater! Maybe we can convince Remus to come in and tutor. Or Sirius. Or they could take turns…”

“Professor Umbridge would never allow that, Harry.” Hermione said quietly, “But I’ve got a better idea, anyway.”

“Better? Who could be better than one of those two?” Harry asked, confused.

“Someone who’s faced Voldemort himself four times and survived.” Hermione said confidently.

“Moody?” Harry mused aloud. Ron smirked in the background watching this exchange.

“That’s a good idea.” Ron added helpfully, “Maybe we can find someone who can go head to head with a dueling champion and hold his own.”

“That’s an idea, Ron!” Hermione smiled, “Someone students can identify with and use as a role model.”

A dawning look of comprehension and shock started spreading across Harry’s face.

“Bugger me!” he exclaimed, suddenly understanding their idea.

“If that will convince you.” Hermione offered deadpan, then whispered, “but it might be more fun if you do the buggering…”

“What?!” Harry asked, his shock multiplied.

“Just trying to think of ways to convince you.” Hermione shrugged. “This is the second time you’ve brought it up.”

“But…but…now I can’t even think of what I was going to say.” Harry stammered.

“Exactly.” Hermione giggled, “What is there to think about? It’s a great idea and we’ll help. I’ll prepare the lesson plans in advance and handle all the administration. All you’ll have to do is to teach defense and you’re great at the subject!”

Harry’s first impulse was to rage about how nobody would listen to him, how he was despised as an attention seeking immature child, how he didn’t know enough to teach, but Hermione’s faith in him was almost palpable though the bond. Of all the people he knew, she knew the most about academics and how best to prepare for tests. If she wanted him to teach and he could feel through their bond how much she wanted that, then she honestly thought he was the best choice.

“What about the garbage the Daily Prophet has printed?” Harry asked, “Won’t students be thinking I’m a nutter, just doing this for more attention?”

“I don’t think so, Harry.” Hermione explained, “They’ve known you for years. They saw you win the tournament and you didn’t just win, you dominated against students older than you. I think you underestimate the amount of respect you have around here. And if some do show up because they think you’re a nutter and want to see you explode, then hopefully they’ll stay long enough to see what you can really do and what you can really teach.”

Harry thought about it. He was really afraid of embarrassing himself and afraid of losing Hermione’s high opinion of him, but she was very convincing.

“Isn’t there anyway I can convince you?” Hermione asked seductively, rubbing a hand across his chest.

Harry blushed and caught her eyes. She blushed in return, but the corner of her mouth quirked upwards as she tried to keep a straight face.

“You’d really do what you said earlier? Let me do…?” Harry asked, already convinced, but his mind returning to her earlier statement.

Hermione bit her lower lip and gave a small nod.

“If that would ‘convince’ you, that’s a good enough excuse for me.”

They both knew he didn’t need her to do anything to convince him, but she needed the excuse to bring it up and he needed the excuse to admit it was an interesting offer.

Ron drifted away with Luna, who tried to stay, curious to hear what they were saying.

“Come on, I don’t want to hear this.” Ron said quietly.

“I do!” Luna said.

Ron rolled his eyes as they moved away.

“We need privacy.” Harry whispered as he watched them walk away, “We can’t even talk privately in the common room, let alone think of doing things like… that.”

“You’re right.” Hermione agreed, “I’ve been thinking about it, but haven’t come up with a final plan yet. I’ve been reading about space enlarging charms, like the one that made the tents we used at the Quidditch Cup bigger inside than outside. I thought we could use one of those to enlarge one of the secret passages from the Marauder’s Map into a secret room.”

“That’s not a bad idea!” Harry asked, “What if we ask Dobby which ones are used the least? I don’t know if professors sometimes use them or maybe even the house elves when they’re trying not to be seen.”

“You called Dobby?” the little house elf said, popping into the common room, “How can I serve the great Master Harry Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Dobby’s habitual flattery, but no matter how often he’d told the elf to call him ‘just Harry’, it hadn’t done any good.

“We’re trying to find a private place that we won’t be interrupted.” Harry said, “I’ve got a map that shows secret passages and we hoped you might know which ones are used the least, so we’re not surprised.”

Dobby listened intently, showing the house elf focus on exactly what Harry wanted.

“You want a private place where you won’t be interrupted?” Dobby asked, “Why you don’t use the come-and-go room? If you make it private, nobody will find you there.”

“The come-and-go room?” Hermione asked, “I’ve never heard of it.”

“We house elves know all about the come-and-go room.” Dobby said, “but not many wizards seem to know it. It’s there when needed and disappears when not needed.”

“It sounds like the Room of Requirement.” Hermione said, thinking deeply, “I’ve heard rumors of a secret room that fits that description, although most sources think it’s a myth.”

“Can you show us?” Harry asked.

“Of course, Harry Potter!” Dobby said, grabbing their hands.

“Wait!” Hermione stopped him, “It’s after curfew. We’re prefects, so we could say we were just doing patrol, but maybe we should grab your cloak, Harry.”

Harry grabbed the cloak and wrapped it around all three of them, Dobby easily fitting underneath as he was so small. As soon as they were covered, Dobby popped them into the seventh floor corridor near a tapestry of a wizard dancing with Trolls.

“You just walk in front of this wall three times while thinking of what you need the room to be.” Dobby said.

Harry glanced at the Marauder’s Map, insuring nobody was nearby, then uncovered and did as Dobby described, pacing in front of the blank wall three times while clearly concentrating. A stout door appeared.

“Thanks, Dobby!” Harry offered, “Uh, I think that’s all we need for now.”

Harry thought he might have to come up with an excuse to get rid of Dobby before opening the door, but the house elf was tuned to his needs and quickly popped away. Harry opened the door and he and Hermione stepped inside.

The room was configured as a large bedroom, with a bed very similar to the four poster beds in the boy’s dormitory, although larger. There were floating candles everywhere, similar to the Great Hall during feasts, but the light was soft. A fireplace was lit with a comfortable couch in front of it.

“This is amazing!” he whispered in awe.

“It is.” Hermione agreed, “Normally, I’d say we should experiment with it, but I like how it’s set up now. Maybe we can experiment…with the room… later?” She discarded her robe on the couch and Harry threw his on top.

“That sounds like a good idea.” Harry said huskily, “Maybe we can find some other experiments to do now?”

“That sounds smashing.” Hermione smiled.

They came together, kissing desperately. After a summer with more privacy and access to one another than they’d ever had, the days since had been agonizing for the teens. They snogged furiously, bruising lips as they pressed tightly together. Hermione’s hands were buried in Harry’s messy hair, holding his head right where she wanted him. His, meanwhile, wandered, untucking her shirt and stroking across her bare back.

“Mmmm…no bra.” He breathed into her mouth, “I love it.”

“I know.” Hermione smirked, “That’s why I’ll never wear one. Witches don’t need them, because support spells are much more comfortable. I even altered it so I can keep a little bounce. Teaching that alteration to Lavender and Parvati was their payment to help me get ready for the ball. There are spells to hide nipples, too, and McGonagall tries to insist we use them, but it’s too fun catching you looking…”

“Am I the only one you’ve caught looking?” Harry whispered.

“Maybe…” Hermione breathed back, before he cut off her words with his mouth.

As they continued to snog, Harry’s hands continued to wander. Slipping them under the hem of her school skirt, he quickly found another surprise.

“No bra I’m getting used to, but no knickers?”

Hermione just giggled, snogging him even harder.

“Do you like it?” she asked, looking in his eyes, blazing emeralds in the dim candlelight.

“Love it.”

“Then it’s worth figuring out how to keep others from noticing.” She replied, going back to snogging.

Harry began maneuvering her towards the bed and she walked with him once she realized what he was doing. They made hesitant progress, too absorbed in their kissing to walk efficiently. Finally, Hermione just gave a little jump, wrapping her legs around Harry and letting him do all the walking.

“Mmmm…” he said, “Good idea.”

“I thought so.” She replied.

They bumped into the bed and Harry sat on the edge, creating a lap that Hermione was happy to squirm against.

“You’re going to soak my trousers, aren’t you?” Harry asked teasingly.

“It’s not my fault.” Hermione giggled, “You’re the one that causes that! Besides, what are scourgifying charms for?”

She squirmed against him more aggressively, trying to convince him to give her what she was craving through the bond. He pushed the tiniest thread of his magic into her, teasing, knowing she wanted the torrent and refusing to give it to her.

“Harry!” she pouted.

“Be patient.” He murmured, “Now that we’ve found this room, we’ve got all night.”

“Really?” she huffed, “Like Ron’s not going to notice you’re gone?”

“He’ll notice, but he won’t say anything. Neither will Nev, Seamus, or Dean. We all agreed we’d cover for each other if we needed to.”

“Well, I don’t think Lavender or Parvati will rat me out.” Hermione said, “I’ve got too much dirt on them.”

“Good.”

Harry ended the talking by flicking more power through the bond, taking her to a plateau just short of the release he knew she wanted. A hint of speech through the bond told him what she’d be saying if her mouth weren’t otherwise occupied, ‘Oh, Harry, you’re evil!’

‘You know you love it.’

‘Not fair reading my mind.’

‘Can you imagine how much harder this would be if we couldn’t? How much more awkward?’

‘Actually, Mr. Potter, I can’t imagine how this could any harder.’

‘I wasn’t talking about that!’

She chuckled against his mouth, the first verbalization in minutes.

‘We’re getting better at this.’ She sent, ‘We can hold whole conversations without talking, which is handy, because I don’t ever want to stop kissing you.’

‘Is kissing all you want?’

‘You know it’s not.’ Hermione said, ‘You can read my mind. You know what I want.’

‘Are you sure?’ Harry asked.

‘I’m scared.’ Hermione answered, although her mental voice sounded anything but scared, ‘but I want you in me and since we both agree you can’t be in me the normal way, I figured out we can do it the other way.’

‘You did, did you?’ Harry asked, ‘How did you figure that out?’

He received the mental equivalent of a stare. ‘How do you think? I read about it.’

‘Ah. I see. Here I was thinking this was a very un-Hermione topic, but now I’m convinced.’

‘Un-Hermione?’ she asked questioningly, ‘I could see how Ron might think that, but you? You know my darker side.’

‘Your naughty side?’ he asked, teasingly.

‘Only for you, Harry.’

‘You don’t just show off for me.’ Harry continued teasing.

‘You know you like it…’ Hermione said with a feeling of embarrassment coming through the bond, almost unnoticeable amongst the overwhelming background feeling of total lust, ‘probably at least as much as I do.’

‘So I like it that guys think my girlfriend is hot. So I think the naughty bookworm thing is sexy. After my childhood, it’s lucky that’s as messed up as I am.’ Harry laughed.

‘Luckkkkyyyyy!’ Hermione sent, the one word dissolving into a drawn out mental stutter as her world went white and her hips bucked against him. ‘Whew.’

‘Scourgifying charms, huh?’ Harry grinned against her mouth.

‘Shut up, Harry, and don’t stop’.

They snogged, petted, and ground against each other until Hermione’s climaxes dissolved one into another. Harry had always tried to please his loved ones. In his relationship with Hermione it had become a singular focus and a third talent, unknown to anyone else. Everyone knew he was the best Seeker at Hogwarts in years. Some people knew he was also a prodigy in defense. Only one person knew he was infinitely talented at pleasing Hermione and that was fine with both of them. Secrets could be extremely sexy. The part of Hermione’s personality that thrived on doing well on tests came out in Harry as an obsession with getting Hermione off. Luckily for her, he was equally successful.

‘Ok, I want you in me.’ She said, finally, her unmatched mind completely submerged in lust.

‘How?’ Harry asked cautiously, ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘You won’t hurt me. I trust you. Besides, I don’t think you could hurt me right now. Or if you did, I’m not sure I would mind.’ She thought, sliding off his lap and onto her back, her legs still cradling him.

Hermione had done her research and thought through her plan with her usual focus. There were books out there for anything, as much in the wizarding world as in the muggle, although they were a lot less open in the wizarding world. The illicitness made it that much hotter. She’d thought through how this would feel with the bond. They typically felt each other’s pleasure and she had actually lost consciousness at times after accidentally setting up a positive feedback loop with Harry. Harry hadn’t, he was still hyperaware enough to never let himself go to that extent, but he felt it, too. So she theorized that even if this was a bit uncomfortable for her, it would feel good for him and that would be enough to make it better than it would ever be for muggles. She’d researched some charms that would help, too.

“scourgify et lubricus” she said, casting a very specialized spell she’d researched on herself.

‘Watch your aim.’ She giggled, ‘It’s all pretty slick now.’

Hermione adjusted where she felt him pressing into her and did her best to relax. He continued to push his magic into her through the bond, which with the aftershocks from her recent climaxes and the sheer naughtiness of what she was doing was enough to bring her close to the edge. There was a little bit of apprehension, but she really did trust Harry to do his best not to hurt her and she was learning to trust her body to take more than she’d thought it would. Slowly, patiently, Harry pushed up and into her. Uncomfortable at first, soon it was pure joy, whether it was hers from feeling him pressed against her or his felt through the bond.

Afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms, sated for the moment.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Ginny and Luna walked up to Hermione in the Great Hall, having watched her walk in to breakfast with Harry.

“Did you hurt yourself, Hermione?” Ginny asked.

“Why do you ask?” Hermione answered, blushing.

“You’re walking funny, like you pulled something.” Ginny answered, concerned.

“Oh, yeah, I must have pulled something during our morning runs.” Hermione said, “I’d better hurry to grab breakfast, lots of studying to do, you know.”

Luna just watched her settle on the bench, squirming a little before getting comfortable.

Ginny looked over as Luna gave a silly giggle. Laughing that Hermione might have hurt herself? Luna could be really strange.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Harry attended his normal classes, progressing rapidly, but he lived for the additional mastery work. His second defense class arrived and he met with Professor Flitwick.

“Harry!” Filius said, “We’re going to begin a regular rotation of instructors. I will go through drills with you, then you will duel with a guest instructor. There will be a new guest instructor every week. You will always get a chance to duel with them during the scheduled defense mastery class, but some weeks you will be able to carve more time out. When the instructor is able, they will stay for the entire week to be available should you have more time to work together.

“This week, your instructor will be one of the newest aurors, on loan to Hogwarts this week from the ministry. Of course, the minister doesn’t know why she’s at Hogwarts, but we won’t tell him, will we? She was trained by one of your mentors, Alastor Moody. Harry, meet Tonks. Tonks, meet Harry.”

A young woman with bright pink hair shook Harry’s hand.

“Wotcher, Harry.”

“Tonks.” Harry said, smiling at the unconventional young auror.

Filius took them through drills, dodging, shielding, and counter-cursing. First, they practiced slowly, to perfect their form, then they slowly began to increase their speed until they were drilling at full dueling speed. Flitwick’s mastery of the subtlest wand movements allowed him to teach Harry how to minimize his. He was quick to point out flaws in Harry’s technique, something Harry wasn’t used to, since his practical ability had always been sufficiently advanced that he was rarely critiqued.

“Your lazy wand work is still better than 99% of the aurors.” Filius lectured, “That does not matter a wink to me. You will continue to work until the right wand movement is second hand. Only then can you relax and let your natural talent carry you.”

Once they’d done the drills Flitwick had planned for the day and gotten a drink of cool water, Filius directed him to his starting point for the dueling practice.

“Mr. Potter, remember that I trained as a duelist. What we really want to teach you is how to survive in the real world against Lord Voldemort. Formal dueling is not exactly what you need. However, given that it’s the background I was trained in, tradition is important to me so I want to teach you in the legacy of my teachers. Further, Voldemort is somewhat obsessed with dueling as a representation for all the many complex facets of Pureblood wizarding culture, so you can humor me and follow dueling etiquette. We will insure you learn the ‘rough and ready’ side of wand fighting by choosing appropriate opponents, such as Miss Tonks.

Face Miss Tonks, bow, and salute with your wand. Now you may begin.”

Harry bowed to Tonks, saluted her with his wand, and no sooner completed the movement than he had to dodge a bolt of crimson fire. He felt himself start to become flustered, but the Machine was already taking over, his body dodging her spells automatically while his mind caught up. Tonks was an attractive young woman and her grin suggested they were just having fun, a very disarming expression on her face at odds with the ripples of energy pulsing off her wand. While his conscious mind noted the grin, his subconscious, the Machine, only processed it as one data point among many.

On the defensive, Harry dodged. His feet were fast and his reflexes were unreal. Having focused most of his physical training time on improving his speed, his grace, and his reaction time, his work clearly showed on the dueling floor. Harry thought to send a reductor curse back at Tonks, but realized at the last moment that many of the spells taught by Moody would be inappropriate for a duel against a friendly opponent, like Tonks.

“Stupefy!” Harry chanted, finally counter-attacking.

Tonks gracefully dodged the red energy, sending several back at him. Harry easily dodged, while waving his wand.

“Expelliarmus, stupefy, incarcerous!” Harry shouted, chaining several spells together. Tonks danced, barely dodging the final spell, her attacks broken for the moment.

Tonks tried to regain the offensive with a chain of bludgeoning curses, her wand whipping through the tiny movement over and over as she sent the string of curses at Harry.

“Protego!” Harry shouted, bouncing the curses back towards Tonks and breaking her attack, “Impedimenta!”

Tonks sidestepped and then returned another string of bludgeoning hexes. Harry dodged, almost avoiding them all, but was clipped by one, began to lose his balance, then was struck more squarely, before being hit by several in a row, throwing him to the floor.

“Uggh.” Harry groaned.

“Good one, Harry!” Tonks smiled.

Harry grinned back, understanding this was a friendly competition. The Machine, living at the base of his brain, ignored the social interaction. It knew one thing, loss and danger. Winning was everything, because winning was surviving. Cold, efficient, the reptile portion of Harry’s mind analyzed and planned the next exchange.

“Take your places.” Flitwick said, “Bow and begin!”

Harry bounced on his feet slightly, loosening up. Getting ready. He didn’t recognize it, but the machine began to take control. Limbering the muscles. Releasing fight or flight hormone. Preparing, always preparing. Harry bowed to Tonks as she bowed to him. A quick salute with his wand and the Machine was in full control. He’d seen how Tonks’ string of bludgeons worked and he immediately fired off a string of his own. Wand inscribing a tiny ark of motion before flowing into the same motion, over and over. He felt how the motion could be even smaller, even faster and the spells stuttered off his wand like machine gun fire. Tonks was amazing, dodging in an almost inhuman display of movement, almost seeming to flow out of the way, but Harry’s attack was too much and this duel ended much like the previous, except in Harry’s favor.

“Good one, kid.” Tonks said, “Caught me being cocky. Won’t happen again.”

Harry nodded, finding words had deserted him. All he cared about was standing at his spot, bowing, and entering the timeflow of the duel again.

They lined up, bowed, and began the duel again.

Tonks was aggressive, upset at losing to a boy. As a junor auror, she had to build respect and losing to Harry was not the way to do it. She sent a chain of multiple spells at Harry, stunners, disarming hexes, body binds. Harry dodged most, batting a few away in silent shield spells. Each step he moved a little closer to Tonks. He sidestepped left, but always forward. Shifted right, leaning away from her attack, but then stepping forward. As he came closer, he had less time to respond to the spells, less time to dodge, but he could see Tonks growing more uncomfortable the closer he got. He didn’t recognize the expression on his face, but Tonks quailed at seeing a grin as Harry ruthlessly batted away her attacks.

“Expelliarmus, stupefy, incarcerous!” Harry strung together, hitting Tonks with all three and leaving her wandless, unconscious, and bound.

Flitwick watched as Harry’s wand continued pointing at Tonks long after he’d won the duel. His hand was shaking.

“Feeling well, Mr. Potter?” Filius asked.

“Fine, Professor.” Harry answered without even processing the question.

“Very well.” Flitwick nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. He released, then woke Tonks. “Five minute water break.”

Harry was too wired to stop and he wandered around the room, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it was intense. Distilled desire to win, nervousness, and sheer joy while in the grip of whatever madness took over when he was fighting.

They continued to duel for another hour and Harry continued winning, not losing another match the rest of the night. Many of them were very close and Harry would be covered in bruises the next day, but he emerged victorious.

At the end of the night, Tonks was clearly upset at her performance.

“Good job, kid.” She grumbled as they prepared to depart.

“It’s not personal.” Harry said, uncomfortable with her reaction, “I’ve got to do my best or I’ll die.”

“It’s not that.” Tonks said, “I want you to do your best. I’m just having an off night. Not sure what’s wrong with me. Hopefully we’ll get the chance to work more later. I’ll figure it out.”

Harry nodded.

“Miss Tonks, please wait for me in my office.” Professor Flitwick said, “Good job, we’ll discuss it after I’m done with Mr. Potter.”

Once Tonks was gone, Hermione came to Harry’s side from the bench where she’d been reading.

“Good job, Harry!”

“Thanks.” Harry answered, “It felt good. I even felt like I was getting better. I feel…weird, though. I can’t stop shaking.”

“That’s completely normal.” Professor Flitwick said, “Now you’re learning the mental game. I don’t know what that will mean for you, but you’ve got to figure out what parts of you contribute to your success and what parts detract. You did well, today, but I think you understand how much better you must do before we’re done. Fate has set an almost impossible task for you, but I think you will do yourself and the Potter name proud. Occlumency might help in sorting out your feelings and help with the ‘mental game’.”

“Thanks, Professor.” Harry mumbled, “Anything else?”

“Yes, you seemed to stick to a very limited repertoire.” Flitwick said, “Stunners, body binds, bludgeons. What happened to the variety of spells Moody drilled with you?”

“Well, I didn’t want to hurt her!” Harry protested.

“Oh, did I not tell you? The room is warded to prevent grievous injury. Even spells like the reductor will only cause bruising and discomfort.” Flitwick explained, “The other flaw I saw tonight was that you verbalized every spell. You need to increase your comfort level with silent spells. You’re giving too much away by verbalizing and it will slow you down, as well.”

“Ok, Professor” Harry answered, “Variety of spells, work on non-verbals. Is there anything else?”

“No, Harry. Have a good night.” The part-goblin said, leaving the room himself for his discussion with Tonks.

Harry and Hermione walked up to the common room as they’d done so many times over the years, hand in hand. Harry didn’t talk much, his mind working on all he’d learned during the bouts. They made their way to their favorite fireside couch.

“Harry, what are you thinking?” Hermione asked, “I could tell it was the ‘mental game’ comments that really seemed to strike a chord tonight.”

“It all just feels so intense!” Harry said, “Even more than Quidditch, although if I hadn’t had that experience so I could understand what an adrenaline rush was, I think my head would have exploded. It’s almost like there’s another Harry ready to take over during the duel. He knows how to duel well and I feel like I do better if I let that part of me take over, but I don’t like that part much. I like how it feels, but that part of me has no mercy. I didn’t worry about how it would embarrass Tonks if I won, I just had to win. Do you understand?”

Hermione regarded Harry for a few minutes, as they sat. She tried to explore the parts of his mind Harry had experienced that night, tried to comprehend the experience.

“I think I do understand.” Hermione offered, “I’ve actually seen this ‘other side’ of you come out before. Normally, day to day, you’re kind, sweet Harry. Sometimes you’re moody, broody Harry. Sometimes, though, usually during times like the Philospher’s Stone first year or the Dementors third year or the Challenges fourth year, it’s like another Harry takes over. So I think I’ve seen what you’re feeling inside.”

“I’m afraid, though!” Harry said, “I can feel that part trying to take over during duels and I’m afraid to let go.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Harry.” Hermione said, squeezing his leg, “If that’s the part of you that’s made for duels, then you have to figure out how to harness it. Just remember not to approach your whole life that way, but if you constrain it to the dueling floor, I don’t think you’ll have any troubles. Now, let’s go through an occlumency organizational exercise. Try to bring that part of you out, try to figure out how to activate it.”

“It is right, not he.” Harry mumbled before submerging himself in meditation, “I call it, ‘the Machine’.”

Harry focused his occlumency on organizing the memories of that night. He tried to harness that part of his mind that took over during stressful times and coldly continued working for his survival. His efforts were aided by that part of him seeking to come out. The Machine had access to all of Harry’s memories, it knew about the conflict with Voldemort, knew the prophecy, knew only one would survive. That was the Machine’s mission, to survive. To kill Voldemort, but above all, to survive.

Normally for martial artists, finding that center, that place from which everything flowed smoothly, was a long, long process. Harry had a number of advantages. He was already an accomplished athlete, with four years of intense training on the Quidditch pitch behind him. Occlumency was made to organize and defend the mind, so it made seeking this portion of his personality so much easier. However, the most important advantage Harry had was that portion of his mind was exquisitely developed. After the deaths of his parents in violence, he’d been abused for the next almost decade. Abuse led to hyperawareness and readiness for fight-or-flight. Sustained need for that kind of awareness had built almost an entire personality whose sole purpose for existence was survival. Smell danger. Assess. Decide whether to fight or fly. However, calling those adaptations a personality was a stretch, because there was no personality there. There was simply efficiency. Desire to survive. Desire to vanquish the enemy, to grind it into non-existence. That set of adaptations was ‘The Machine’ and given how well developed those adaptations were, Harry wasn’t sure whether he was really the main personality, because as he visualized it, the Harry everyone knew was the portion of the iceberg above the waterline and ‘The Machine’ was the 90% that existed below.

Harry didn’t so much sleep that night as spend the entire night meditating, seeking to resolve the questions of how to harness that part of his personality. Only, very little of the night was actually consumed by Harry’s work. Very quickly, the Machine took over, letting conscious Harry sleep. The Machine used Harry’s occlumency skills to organize itself where it could easily take over when needed. Pathways were widened. Defenses were further bolstered. The barriers around the dark fragment were strengthened. The Machine was wary of the darkness, because it was too similar, so if the Machine were strengthened, the Darkness had to be further walled off, because union of the two would be as bad as death. However, the work was not a problem, because the Machine didn’t need rest. It simply prepared.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: So I keep getting comments on formatting errors. I know the formatting was really bad in Chapter 18. It took me forever to post it, because Portkey is not allowing me upload. I often have to try multiple times. I was finally able to post that Chapter by converting to text, then to HTML. I’ve found if I can get a partial upload, then I can replace with a full upload more easily. However, after multiple attempts, I still wasn’t able to fix the formatting, despite it looking normal on the HTML document I’m uploading.

If anyone has any tips, I’d welcome them. I’m even thinking of posting the story elsewhere, because with my time limitations, I can’t afford hours to upload each chapter.

I read a really excellent story that exhilarated me and discouraged me, because the author managed to write what I’m intending to convey much better than I will. If you want to read a really well conceived approach to Harry’s dueling, read “The Meaning of Father” by The Obsidian Warlock. I was really impressed. Harry and Hermione had very different strengths, which is hard to write. Kudos to the author.

20. Dumbledore's Army

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t profit from my writing.

Chapter 20: Dumbledore’s Army

The term was settling down to a brutal pace. Harry could feel Hermione sometimes compare it to third year when she’d used the time turner. The Black Isle Crew continued their physical fitness, using warming charms as it grew colder outside. Ultimately, once they mastered Ashdowne’s techniques, they wouldn’t have to keep running, but could achieve the same thing with magic, but none of them were that far along, yet. They continued going to regular classes. Ron continued his strategy sessions with Professor Dumbledore. Harry continued dueling. He’d become obsessive, drilling his repertoire of spells incessantly to try to perfect each one. His goal was to be able to perfectly cast them all silently and to be able to cast most of them wandlessly. He estimated that one-thousand repetitions of each spell, paying careful attention to technique with each cast, would approach his goal. He’d already perfected the reductor curse, disarming curse, summoning spell, and shield spell. Now he was working to broaden his repertoire of mastered spells. Hermione continued working closely with Professor McGonagall on her mastery studies. She was breaking new ground in transfiguration, although it was clear she wasn’t content to remain firmly within the boundaries of that single field. She spent endless hours in the library, researching curse scars and dark auras. She flooed back to Grimmauld place regularly to comb through the library there, looking for more works on dark curses. Both Harry and Hermione continued to work on their occulomency with Professor Snape, who alternated with legilimency, allowing them to work against each other to improve both.

“Professor Snape?” Harry asked, during one of their sessions in late September, “I haven’t had any bad dreams since we’ve been working together, but sometimes I feel like I can almost hear them outside my walls.”

“Really, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, interestedly, “Tell me more.”

“Well, there’s not really any more. I can’t even really ‘hear’ them or ‘see’ them, I just vaguely know they’re there. When I became aware, I thought about trying to look more closely, but was afraid I’d breach my own walls and open my mind to Voldemort.”

“Hmmm.” Snape pondered, “I hadn’t thought to teach you how to monitor attacks through your walls, but this makes me reconsider. You must be very careful, because it is one thing to make a solid wall that cannot be broken. It is another to do as I have done and put up subtle barriers that even the Dark Lord himself does not detect when he attempts to read my mind or to raise barriers with windows through which you can see and hear. He knows you’ve developed at least a modicum of skill in occlumency. I have led him to believe you are even poorer at the art than you actually are. Maybe we can use that.. exactly…here’s what we will do. You both have done relatively well with obvious defenses. We will now make an additional two lines of defense outside your strong defenses. The first will be a relatively weak wall, which will be made to fall at his attack, lasting only long enough to alert you to his presence. This will be the only obvious defense. Next will be a subtle defense, such as I have created in my mind. You will not be able to make this as impenetrable as you need to be, so you will maintain your true defenses as a final wall in case he senses this second line of defense and attempts to breach it. The subtle wall with let you hear and see what he sends at you, while hiding your true walls. If he breaches it, all you will have outside your true defense will be a wisp of your mind that you can quickly bring back behind your main defenses, which continue to protect your memories and your centers of control.”

“Meditate, clear your mind, and begin to construct the defenses as I have described them. The weak wall is easy, it is based on the same principle as your main defenses, only poorly built and poorly developed. The subtle wall is what we’ll spend most of our time on and I will help you. Begin.”

They went well over the intended length of time and were exhausted by the end of their work, but they both had rudimentary outer levels of defense they could continue to work on together between lessons. That night, they briefly meditated, strengthening the new subtle shield, before going to sleep.

Friday, Harry went to Quidditch practice while Hermione went to the library to continue her research. He was still amazed at how much more reading and studying she did than him, but was learning to appreciate her diligence, since it always seemed to benefit him.

Early October arrived and the weather continued to cool. Harry went to classes, ignored Professor Umbridge as much as he could, and continued to do his best work. Hermione’s influence had really changed him, so he unconsciously put forward his best work, even while most of his attention was on his second curriculum towards his mastery of defense. This made DADA elementary. The weak theory work that Umbridge graded them on was less than basic to what he was studying with Dumbledore and Flitwick. Configuration and charms continued to go well, benefitting from the work he was doing with Professor Flitwick. In teaching him to perfect his wand movements for dueling, the Professor had finally found a motivation that worked to make him more of a perfectionist in all of his courses, because it didn’t make sense to drill tiny precise wand movements in dueling and then allow them to become large, imprecise, and sloppy during the rest of his work. That kind of laziness would bleed over to his dueling and he’d never tolerate that. So with Hermione’s influence leading him to study and Flitwick’s instruction helping to perfect his technique, both coupled with his prodigious magical core and his natural talent, pushed him to a new tier of excellence in his studies. He and Hermione were performing far above what even she used to reach, because while she was academically exceptional, her practical work had always been merely above-average. Now, with all the outside work, they were both prodigies. Even Ron had improved. He seemed to focus and some of his angry jealousy at the world was fading under his new goals and achievements. He just seemed to relax and let go of his old anxieties. He often worked with Neville, who with a new wand and a new self-confidence, was far beyond anything even Malfoy could describe as a near-squib.

Tuesday night, Harry walked down to the dueling classroom with Hermione. He was curious who Professor Flitwick would have provided for his guest opponent. Harry walked quietly. He was thoughtful, thinking about the upcoming lesson, but beneath the surface the Machine was preparing. Harry’s tendency to hold back had to be overcome, but conscious Harry would be years to let that go. The Machine assumed they didn’t have years. They didn’t have friends on the dueling floor. They didn’t have time for holding back or limitations. There was only preparing for the final fight that could come at any time.

They reached the heavy steel door and walked inside. Professor Flitwick stood with Bill Weasley.

“Bill!” Harry called.

“Harry, how are you?” Ron’s older brother asked, shaking hands with Harry, “Hermione! It’s great to see you!”

“Thanks!” Hermione said, giving Bill a hug.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“I’m your guest opponent!” Bill said with a smile, “Professor Flitwick thought a curse-breaker might be an interesting change of pace from your usual auror-standard style.”

Harry laughed and nodded, pleased he’d get to work with someone he was comfortable with. Meanwhile, the Machine went into overdrive. It had to prepare harder, since conscious Harry would be even more likely to hold back against a friend, a member of his adopted family.

“We’re going to prepare with some basic drills. I want to see your two best offensive spells, silently and then wandlessly, against these dummy targets, then these snitch targets.”

Harry and Hermione took their places. Harry chose expelliarmus and the reductor. He focused on making his movements perfect and smooth. Hermione chose the reductor and her black hole hex. Professor Flitwick watched closely, walking behind each of them and making small corrections and suggestions.

“Ok, now I want fifty repetitions of the following spells. Harry, I want you to pick up Hermione’s black hole hex, also practice the flame curse, a cutting curse, and a piercing curse. Hermione, please do the same except instead of your black hole hex, I want you to work on the bludgeoning hex.”

They practiced diligently. Hermione thought about how incredibly useful having a large magical core was. She’d been well above-average before the bond with Harry, but she simply could not have done 200 repetitions of any spell in a row without exhausting herself. Without being able to practice that intensely, her development would be slower. She understood what Professor Flitwick had said about only a combination of natural talent and hard work being enough to reach the top levels of performance. Before, she’d been intelligent and a hard worker, but she just wouldn’t have been magically powerful enough to develop herself this quickly. Hermione thought through this while she continued to diligently practice her spells. A third line of thought working through a possible curse removal ritual for Harry’s scar happened in the deep background of her exceptional mind. If Harry had the Machine, Hermione’s subconscious was more like the research librarian, but no less active.

“Very well. Stop.” Professor Flitwick said, “Now, we’re going to practice combat apparition. I want you to show me your ability to apparate short distances. Go from this hoop to this hoop.”

After Hermione’s dramatic apparition through the Hogwarts’ wards, the couple had spend time training to apparate on Black Isle. They were both advanced for everyday wizards, but combat apparition was different. It tended to be short distance, fast, and the apparator couldn’t afford to be disoriented on arrival.

“You’ve got the willpower to be exceptional. Your skills at occlumency should help your ability to snap visualize your destination. I think all you’ll need is practice. When we’re not here, this room will remain an exception to Hogwarts apparition wards. Come here and practice as frequently as you can.”

Both almost groaned at this additional draw on their limited time, but they also understood the need. A duel between a skilled apparator and a novice would be over before it was begun.

“Now for the portion Harry’s been waiting for.” Flitwick said, his pointed teeth visible when he smiled, “Take your places.”

Harry walked to his designated position on the dueling floor. He began to take deep breaths, striving to center his mind, seeking the calm ‘no-mind’ he’d discussed with Ron. Harry thought about dueling Bill, Ron’s almost legendary older brother. Former Hogwarts’ Head Boy and current Gringott’s curse breaker. He was an idol to Harry, who wasn’t sure dueling him was a good idea. Harry bowed automatically at Flitwick’s call, saluted, and was suddenly blind, the entire room going dark.

Harry threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding a blast of light that illuminated the room like a strobe. It was surreal, Harry’s heart seemed to beat and the room seemed to strobe in unison, dim glimpses of his opponent caught only during the strobes, each a damaging spell that could end the fight. Distantly, he could hear rustling, like fabric, and odd moans growing closer to him. Harry tried to think, tried to decide how to remove the darkness. His vision blurred into auramancy and he visualized the spell. He also visualized very dark humanoid auras moving closer to him. Finally, desperately unsure how to fix it, he tapped his core and just poured an obscene amount of power into a simple spell.

“Finite!” Harry called.

The darkness lifted and Harry had time to roll to the side as a fist glanced off his head. He was facing a horde of humanoids wrapped in dry, dusty bandages. Harry had never heard of anything like this in the wizarding world, but they looked like mummies from old horror movies. His vision blurred by the blow, Harry twisted, kicked, and blocked, trying to get free of the scrum. They were strong. The sent of dusty rotting and spices that surrounded them was disorienting. Harry was hit all over, fists pounding into his ribs, glancing off his arms, and striking his back. If he wasn’t pouring magic into his resiliency combined with the enchantments on his dueling robes, he suspected he’d be badly injured already. As it was, it was painful to take a breath. Another blow glanced of his head and he saw stars, slipping to the ground. His wand fell from his fingers.

As Harry wavered on the edge of consciousness, the Machine took over. A massively overpowered and wide area reductor flowed out from him, blasting the mummies back from him in a ring. He summoned his wand to his hand and apparated to the other side of the room. Several flame curses leapt from his wand, setting the mummies alight. A quick glance at his opponent showed a ring of glowing runes around Bill. The curse-breaker was also a master of wards and had used the opportunity his creatures had given him to set some strong defenses.

A glance was all he had time for, as curses flowed off Bill’s wand at him as soon as he saw him free of the now blazing mummies. Harry again apparated, then sent off a string of overpowered reductor curses at Bill’s wards. The wards were much stronger than a protego shield, but took much longer to raise. Only the mummies had given him time to erect them. The Machine recognized the limitations in Bill’s approach. This duel was a mobile fight, given how Flitwick had set up the wards in the room. Bill had chosen a static position, so no matter where Harry moved, he always knew where Bill would be. Sacrificing mobility was a big trade-off.

Harry began apparating around the room almost at random, slamming a string of reductors into Bill’s wards every time he appeared, then disappearing before any counter-curses reached him. Given his prodigious strength, soon Bill’s wards were glowing red, trying to discharge the energy they were absorbing, but clearly failing. Harry watched the ward with auramancy, apparating just before he managed to destroy the wards, insuring that the curse that finally overloaded the barrier was the first in a string. He expected Bill to correct his mistake and become mobile the minute his ward fell and he didn’t want to let him.

The runes overloaded with a flash and Bill was hit by the feedback, disorienting him for a millsecond, enough to insure he didn’t apparate away or dodge the second, third, or fourth reductor in Harry’s chain. He was knocked to the ground, unconscious, only the protective dueling wards on the room preventing him from being ripped apart by the forces.

Harry was pacing, waiting for the next duel. With the Machine at the forefront of his mind, all he cared about was the next fight.

“Innervate.” Flitwick said, waking Bill.

Bill looked at Harry with wide eyes. “You’re my youngest brother’s age. You shouldn’t have had a chance! You’re…” His surprise was cut off by a look from Filius.

“That fight went exactly how we’d discussed, Bill.” Flitwick said, speaking over the curse-breaker, “You only used the spells I allowed you and you took the static position in a mobile fight as we’d discussed. Is the lesson clear, Harry?”

“Crystal.” Harry said, continuing to pace.

They dueled several more times, but Bill never came as close to beating Harry, his confidence shaken by losing to the boy.

They ended the duel early, to discuss the first confrontation.

“What did you do wrong?” Flitwick asked Harry.

“I wasn’t prepared.” Harry said flatly, “I saw Bill and my mind thought of him as a brother. I wasn’t ready when he started off strong.”

“Yes, I agree that was your first mistake.” Flitwick agreed, “Then?”

“I was surprised by his darkness spell and wasn’t sure how to counter it. I stayed in the same position, never having apparated blind.”

“But you apparated previously in this room.” Flitwick pointed out, “There were several places you knew well enough to apparate to, even blind.”

Harry nodded, realizing that with the advantage of photographic memory he’d gained from his bond with Hermione and the easy mental organization inherent to his level of occlumency, he could have visualized any position in the room. That was a big mistake.

“What was your final mistake?” Flitwick asked.

“I’m not sure.” Harry offered.

“You had to take down his barrier using brute force.” Flitwick explained, “There are much easier ways to take down a ward, particularly a quick combat-ward. You’ve got an advantage over almost everyone in sheer magical power. You can overwhelm wards easily, but with a bit of knowledge, you can do it much faster than that.”

Professor Flitwick and Bill Weasley spent the next hour teaching Harry and Hermione how to take down wards. Using a combination of auramancy and their knowledge of arithmancy and runes, they learned to take down most common combat-wards. Real, permanent wards were much harder, but Bill assured them that with their strength, they would make incredible ward-breakers if they wanted to pursue that as a career. Bill and Hermione dueled, which was equally impressive, but a much less violent confrontation. Finally, Harry and Hermione left, walking to the room of requirement, where they’d planned some alone time.

“Dobby.” Harry called.

“Winky.” Hermione called.

The two house-elves popped into the room of requirement. With a wave of their hands, the room, which was already configured as a romantic dining room was suddenly lit with hundreds of candles. Small portions of delicious food appeared on their plates. They’d eaten a light dinner before the dueling, but afterwards, they’d wanted a dinner together. Another gesture and their dueling robes disappeared, to be replaced by light casual robes. After they’d eaten, before the elves had a chance to disappear with their dirty dishes, Hermione asked a question that had occurred to her after their training.

“I don’t know why I’ve never thought of this before, but how do you apparate within the wards?”

“We’re house elves, miss.” Dobby replied. Winky, shyer, stood there waiting to be directly addressed by her mistress.

“That’s what I’ve always told myself.” Hermione replied, digging deeper, “There’s got to be more to it than that, though. How do house elves apparate through wards?”

Dobby thought about it, something he obviously hadn’t done much before. “Well, Miss Grangy, we can do what we needs to do to serve our masters and mistresses. If the wards kept us out, we couldn’t really do what you need. So our magic lets us do it.”

“Could you teach us how you do it?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, I want to!” Dobby said, jumping up and down, “But I don’t thinks so. It’s something only house elves can do.”

“Something you’re born to do?” Hermione asked.

“No, we can’t do it until we’re old enough to bond to our masters or mistresses and swear our house elf oaths to them. Only then can we use our magic. That’s why it’s so important to be in service.”

Hermione thought about this and her powerful mind churned over the information she’d been given.

“Wait. Dobby, how do you define a house elf?” Hermione asked.

“A house elf is defined by service!” Dobby said, reciting something that sounded like a creed he’d been taught when he was young. “Bond and oath make a house elf!”

“Well, Harry and I have a bond.” Hermione ventured, “Could we be house elves?”

Dobby looked really confused by that.

“Miss Grangy, I’m sorry, I thinks you could be. You do have the bond and if you swore to serve Master Harry like a house elf, you would be what my parents said a house elf was, but you’re a witch and witches aren’t house elves. I’m so confused!” Dobby picked up the serving platter and went to hit himself in the head.

“Dobby, no!” Harry quickly said, “You’re not to punish yourself. Answer Hermione’s questions the best you can, but if you can’t, don’t worry. You’re doing exactly what I want right now.”

“Harry, what if we tried it?” Hermione asked, “Let’s swear a house elf oath to each other and then ask if Dobby and Winky can teach us how to do house elf apparition.”

Harry shrugged. It would be dead useful and he wasn’t worried about any oaths he swore to Hermione. He would do anything for her already.

He knelt down in front of Hermione. He gazed into her eyes with all the sincerity he could and said, “I promise to be as your house elf and be always loyal and ready to do what you need!” Harry said an oath based on what he recalled of Winky’s oath to Hermione in the kitchen.

“I accept your vow and promise on my part to take care of you as part of my family.” Hermione said, her eyes bright. Harry on his knees in front of her reminded her of their engagement and he was already her family.

A blue light shone powerfully, representing a magical oath made. Further bonds wrapped around them.

Harry kissed Hermione, then sat and Hermione knelt in front of him, looking up at him with love, “I promise to be as your house elf and be always loyal and ready to do what you need!”

Harry answered her, “I accept your vow and promise on my part to take care of you as part of my family.”

The blue light again flashed powerfully.

They both looked to Dobby and Winky, who stood side by side, watching them.

“Can you teach us now?” Hermione asked.

“We’s should be able to.” Dobby said, obviously distressed he couldn’t say yes, clearly, “Nothing like this has ever been heard of, but you’ve got the bond and you’ve got the oaths.”

Dobby went to Harry and Winky went to Hermione.

“When we’re teaching young house elves, we don’t talk out loud, we talk in their mind. All house elves can talk to each other that way. We can also see what our master or mistress needs from us so we can do it before they ask sometimes.”

Winky put her hands on Hermione’s head and the young witch could feel in her mind, through the subtle barrier. Hermione relaxed her occlumency to let Winky further in. Winky went to a part of Hermione’s mind that she’d organized to include her knowledge of apparition and the magical conduit from her core for apparating. In her mind, Winky showed her how to twist it slightly differently to perform house elf apparition.

“It doesn’t always have to be loud?” Hermione asked.

“No, Mistress.” Winky said shyly, “Only when we think our masters wouldn’t want us to surprise them. If they is asleep or talking to another wizard or working hard, we can go very quietly so we don’t disturb.”

Dobby removed his hands from Harry’s head and Harry disappeared, only to reappear with a case of butterbeer.

“It works!”

“Harry!” Hermione cried, surprised.

“Mistress?” he said teasingly, “Do I need to punish myself?”

“No, you’re not to punish yourself.” Hermione said, “Not unless I tell you to!”

They both laughed, then popped around the room joyfully.

“I can apparate around Hogwarts!” Hermione giggled, dancing excitedly.

“Maybe you can add that when you edit Hogwarts, a History.” Harry said teasingly.

“Well, maybe we’ll keep this as a secret.” Hermione said, biting her lower lip, “Without the bond, others couldn’t do it anyway and it will make a powerful surprise if we need it.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

The Hogsmeade weekend arrived. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville had all discussed it and agreed to go together. Harry had been convinced to start a practical defense practice. He’d realized he’d have to start at least a small one for the other members of the Black Isle crew, because it wasn’t fair they weren’t getting the same instruction he was and he wanted to keep working with them. They helped Hermione convince him that they all could teach a bigger group if he headed it and they worked as his teaching assistants. They’d discussed particulars with what they wanted to do and decided on an approach.

They gathered at the Hog’s Head. They’d discussed whether it might be more suspicious to go to the sketchy looking pub, being that they never went there, but they’d decided it was empty enough to offset the greater chance they’d be noticed since they were varying from their routine.

They’d discussed their approach to this in-depth. Ron had offered some great suggestions as they’d brainstormed. They’d decided Harry needed to appear confident, since he was going to be the leader. Hermione would be beside him as his primary assistant. The others would be there in a supportive role, ready to lend a hand. Harry had been thinking about what impressed him about various professors. His number one role model was Dumbledore, but he wasn’t sure he could pull off the Headmaster’s demeanor. However, he would always be the basis of what Harry thought about as a teacher. Remus was another role model and probably the closest to what Harry would strive for while teaching what would essentially be a DADA practical. Finally, although he was loathe to admit it, Professor Snape made quite an impression, sometimes for the wrong reasons, but he clearly prepared to impress students with his beginning speech about “I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”The way his robes billowed as he walked was another way he presented himself dramatically. With his auramancy and Hermione’s help, Harry had figured out how he did that and practiced until he got a similar effect.

They entered the pub and Harry bought a couple cases of butter beer while the others picked a row of tables in the back.

“We don’t want anyone disturbing us for refills.” He explained to Hermione.

They sat and chatted while waiting for others to arrive. Before the appointed time, students started to filter in. The Weasley twins came in with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Harry had to smile at his teammates. He’d always have them. Dean and Lavendar came in next, closely followed by the Patils. Cedric and Cho walked in together with a friend of Cho’s walking with them, Cedric giving Harry a wave and a smile. The Creeveys walked in, unsurprisingly, then Ernie MacMillan, Justin Fitch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones. Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner, and Terry Boot came in, Luna identifying them as they entered. A tall blonde Hufflepuff came in last and Harry decided it was time to start.

He stood, raising his hand, relaxing his control slightly to let his aura flow out, commanding attention.

“Welcome.” Harry said firmly, “You all know why we’re here?”

“I heard you were starting a group to study for the Defense OWLs?” Michael Corner ventured.

Harry nodded at Hermione, who began talking, “We have watched Professor Umbridge and quickly realized that is no preparation for our Defense against the Dark Arts studies. At my urging, Harry has agreed to fix that. I want to be prepared, not just for our OWLs, but also… also, because Lord Voldemort is back.”

There were gasps at that. Cho’s friend shrieked and slopped butterbeer over her arm.

“What’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” the blonde Hufflepuff asked.

“We saw him.” Hermione said flatly. “Harry and I.”

“So we’re to go on your word?” the blonde boy said, his voice tinged with disrespect.

“Who are you?” Ron said, roughly, ready to defend his friends and his oathbound lord.

“Zacharias Smith,” said the boy, “I think I’ve got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who’s back.”

Harry drew himself up even straighter. The power rolled off him in waves and he felt like Dumbledore in his ‘take-charge’ mode.

“That’s fair.” He offered generously, “Although next time you decide to demand your rights, I insist you treat me, my fiancée, and my assistants with the appropriate respect or I’ll take it as an offense to House Potter.”

He stared levely at the boy, who eventually nodded, unable to take the weight of those almost-glowing green eyes.

“Hermione and I saw Voldemort’s return. If she hadn’t come for me, I would have died. I think many of you saw her apparate out from the Quidditch stands, something that’s supposedly impossible?”

There were nods at this.

“He’s back and no matter who denies it, we must be ready. Unfortunately, by burying their heads in the sane, the ministry is doing exactly the worst thing they could do. Professor Umbridge is one symptom of that overall illness, but she’s enough to damage your education and risk your lives. Hogwarts is like a second home to me and therefore you’re like my family. I don’t sit by while idiots risk my family, so I’m willing to pass on what I know.”

“Who are you to teach us?” Zacharias asked, “You’re only a fifth year, hardly ready to be a Professor.”

“I heard he could cast a Patronus. A real corporeal Patronus.” Susan Bones offered, “My auntie is an auror and has spoken to Master Auror Moody. Is it true about the Patronus?”

Harry nodded and there were murmurs of awe.

“Blimey, Harry, I didn’t know that!” Lee said, looking impressed.

“Mum told Ron not to spread it around,” Fred said, grinning, “Said Harry gets enough attention as it is.”

There was laughter at that.

“Did you really kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore’s office?” Terry Boot asked, “One of the portaits told me when I was in there last year.”

Harry nodded and there were more murmurs.

“And in our first year, he saved the sorcerous stone.” Neville added. “From You-Know-Who.”

“I watched him in the tournament.” Cedric added, his arm around Cho, “He was well in advance of my work, so I think any concern that he’s ‘just a fifth year’ is misplaced.”

Harry raised a hand again and all the murmuring ceased.

“I won’t say I haven’t had help through all of this. Hermione and Ron have been by my side every step of the way. I’ve also been very lucky. They’ve said they’ll be by my side for this group, too, so you’ll benefit from their help as I have. My friends and I benefitted from an intensive summer program with… is it Master Auror now, Susan?... Master Auror Moody. We’ll be teaching what we learned and I guarantee it will be better preparation than you’ll receive from Umbridge. Now if you’re interested, please stay. If you’re not, that’s fine, too, but please keep this to yourself. I’m not sure she’d be pleased, even though we’re not breaking any school rules.”

“If you’re interested.” Hermione spoke up, “Sign up on this sheet of paper. Be informed that by signing you’re not only expressing interest, you’re also agreeing not to speak of the group. After you sign your name, I’ll hand you one of these galleons, charmed to show the time and place of any meetings.

As people began to sign their names, Susan moved to Harry’s side.

“Would you be willing to show me your Patronus?” she asked, “My auntie said you’d gotten a waiver to the underage magic rule.”

“You are well informed.” He chuckled, “Well, some of this lot might need some convincing and that is a dramatic spell.” Harry brought up the memory of his proposal to Hermione and cast, “Expecto Patronum!”

Prongs sprung from the tip of his wand, glowing silver, every detail perfect down to the individual hairs. His tail twitched as he looked for foes to gore.

“Wow.” Susan said among the wave of murmurs.

After everyone had signed, Hermione gathered up the paper and put it in her bag.

“Well, that went rather well.” She said primly with an undertone of ‘I told you so.’

“You were right.” Harry said, chuckling.

“Aren’t I always?” she giggled.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Monday they weren’t so sure, when they read Umbridge’s ‘educational decree’ outlawing all student groups unless approved by the Ministry.

“Someone told.” Harry said coldly.

“No,” Hermione disagreed, “if they had, they would have triggered consequences from the parchment. Sirius is quite skilled at enchanted parchments, as you’re well aware of from the map, and the Black curses are not pleasant. This was someone outside the group.”

Harry nodded, “This doesn’t mean anything. I’m still going to do it.”

That day Harry felt pain in his scar for the first time since he’d learned occlumency. It was dull, muted, as if felt from a distance, but he knew that Voldemort was very angry.

That night Ron told them they were wanted in Dumbledore’s office. The three walked together to the Gargoyle that moved out of the way automatically.

“Welcome.” Albus said as they walked into his office. He’d set three overstuffed chairs around his desk, “Ronald told me about your meeting this weekend. You realize, of course, that this newest decree is aimed at you?”

“Of course.” Hermione said briefly.

Dumbledore nodded, folding his hands in his robe sleeves. “Ronald and I have been working together frequently. His training by Master Wu is helpful to me. We’ve come to the conclusion that I must continue on the road that I started over a year ago when I began to share more with you. There’s a good chance that in the course of Professor Umbridge’s work for the Ministry, I will be temporarily removed as Headmaster.”

Harry gasped.

“No, my boy, do not worry. Hogwarts will only accept the true Headmaster, so I will not be truly gone. Filius will continue your work. I need you to continue working behind the scenes as you are. Avoid direct confrontation until it is time. I trust you will know when it is truly time.”

“Now,” he continued, “there are even more important things to discuss. Secrets I have continued to keep. It is time you were brought fully into my plans. It is unsafe for me to continue as the only person to know. If I were to die unexpectedly, all our plans would be in danger. Nothing I say should leave this room. I have not even told Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick. Professor Snape knows as the nature of his role necessitates it.”

“When you faced Voldemort, or Tom Riddle as he is more truly named, there was a reason he did not die.” Dumbledore explained, looking at Harry, “There are dark rituals that allow a dark wizard to maintain their own existence. The darkest of these is the Horcrux. It is a container which holds a portion of the dark wizard’s soul, split by the act of murder of an innocent. So long as one of the containers exists, the dark wizard cannot be killed, but will only be disembodied, as Riddle was.”

“So Voldemort has one of these Horcrux?” Harry asked.

“I think he has more than one.” Dumbledore stated.

Hermione gasped.

“I think you destroyed one your second year.” Dumbledore said, bringing out the remains of Riddle’s Diary, “It was actually what prompted me to explore this possibility. I have come to the conclusion that he likely has either three or seven, both arithmantically powerful numbers. There is a wizard who might know, but he is in hiding and I have decided it is less important we know exactly how many as it is to begin to seek them. I have made that my aim, while also trying to bring the Ministry to the conclusion that he is back and they must prepare.”

Hermione was lost in thought. Harry could almost hear the powerful clockwork sound her mind made as it processed multiple lines of reasoning. He was almost afraid of how intelligent she was.

“Harry’s scar.” She finally said, “That’s what the darkness is in his scar. There is no such thing as a generic curse scar that discolors the aura. I discovered that during my research after Luna commented. Now it makes sense, though.”

Dumbledore nodded sadly.

“How do we destroy it?” Hermione asked, desperately.

“I am not certain that we can.” Dumbledore said in the aggrieved tone he would have used to tell someone their family member was gravely ill, “It is unheard of to use a living being as a Horcrux, because it’s counter to the very idea. They are meant to make a dark wizard immortal, but by using a mortal vessel, you limit the span of time your Horcrux exists to the life of that being. If, that is, the presence of the Horcrux does not also make Mr. Potter immortal. Again, I am unsure. I think Riddle’s intent was not to use Harry as a vessel, but to use his death as one of the required murders to split his soul and place that fragment in an unknown vessel. I think the creation of the scar Horcrux was accidental. I think the sequence was that Lily sacrificed herself to save Harry, giving him a powerful protection. Riddle hit Harry with the killing curse, which rebounded, leaving only a superficial wound behind and severing the connection between Riddle’s body and the two pieces of his soul, split when he cast the curse with the intent to kill Harry. I think it is important to realize the intent and action to kill Harry was enough to split his soul even when unsuccessful. One piece was driven away while one piece, having already been prepared for a vessel, entered the nearest possible vessel, which was Harry. His mother’s protection was temporarily drained by deflecting the killing curse of the most powerful dark wizard known, so did not have sufficient strength to also prevent the soul fragment from attaching itself. Harry’s magic then encapsulated the fragment and has protected him from it to this day, although it also shields the fragment from Lily’s protection.”

They all absorbed that incredible scenario.

“The fragment carried with it some of Riddle’s talents, such as parselmouth. Harry’s magic protected and insulated him from the fragment, but was happy to take any benefits. Meanwhile, as we discussed last year, the presence of a soul fragment of the most powerful dark wizard known was sufficient to stimulate Harry’s core, which was likely already destined to be immense, into the rather large reservoir it is now.”

“This is why I found it so essential for you to learn occlumency, Harry. You are at risk from within and without. I think the fragment gives Riddle an advantage in penetrating your mind, as he already has a beachhead. Professor Snape is the foremost expert in resisting Voldemort’s mental attacks, so I tasked him to teach you. In this, I think he is even more knowledgeable than I.”

Hermione continued thinking. “Professor, I did not read about Horcrux during my research, however I do think I read about a technique that might be used to find the others, since we have one in our possession. If we calibrate a search by the signature of the dark aura of the scar Horcrux, I think we could discover other fragments with the same aura nearby.”

Dumbledore nodded, turning his own prodigious mind down the avenue Hermione had opened.

“You truly are a brilliant witch.” He said with smile.

She blushed, but her look hardened, “I will discover a way to destroy the fragment.”

Harry nodded. He’d isolated the part of him that knew even if she didn’t discover a way to separate the fragment; he knew how he could destroy it if he must. He locked that part away from their bond, knowing she mustn’t realize how far he’d go to destroy Voldemort.

“I will continue to do my research on the Horcrux, as well Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said, “Harry, Ron, I think you two should continue to concentrate on your studies. You will be needed if we discover the location of any of the Horcrux, but until then I think this lies within a realm more suited for our talents. There are some memories I have assembled concerning Tom Riddle’s early life and background. I will leave them in here, in these vials, for you to puruse at your leisure. Mr. Weasley, I think seeing them may help you in the formation of strategy where he is concerned. ‘Know your enemy’ I believe your master likes to say?”

They left the office subdued, but hopeful. They had a path to continue on to keep opposing Voldemort.

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Tuesday, Angelina received permission to reform the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ron was ecstatic. Harry was pleased, but he felt his life was evolving to make Quidditch less of a priority, although it was still one of the biggest stress relievers for him, but dueling and Hermione were more central to his happiness.

That night, he and Hermione met at the library, where she was working, eating at the table a snack that Winky brought her. She’d redoubled her efforts to find a solution to Harry’s Horcrux problem, but information on the topic was very limited even with full access to the restricted section and access to all the Black libraries. Magick Most Evile was the one book that contained even a reference. Dumbledore told her he had a book with more information, but she hadn’t yet had a chance to read it.

They walked together to the dungeon dueling room. Harry was coming to terms with his subconscious, realizing that he consistently started his duels at a disadvantage until he could let go of his conscious fears and let himself go. He still wasn’t sure how to do that earlier in a fight, but hoped he could work on it today.

In the dueling room, they found Professor Flitwick and Remus Lupin.

“Mooney!” Harry cried, embracing his Uncle.

“How are you, cub?” Lupin asked, chuckling at the scion of the Marauders.

“Great! I’m happy to see you!” Harry said, “But I assume you’re the guest opponent?”

“Right in one, Harry.” Remus answered.

Harry swallowed. Here was a real challenge for his mental preparation. He didn’t want to duel his Uncle Mooney. It would be too hard to submerge his desires neither to hurt him nor even to embarrass him by winning. Looking at Flitwick, he suspected this might be part of the lesson.

“Today we’re going to discuss and practice specialty spells against certain enemies.” Flitwick said, “Voldemort has been known to use dark creatures as servants. You learned the basics about many of these dark creatures from Professor Lupin. However, that was third year curriculum. Now we talk about the bloody truth. We’ll discuss spells to defend against vampires, werewolves, and the inferi. I believe you’re already well acquainted with the Patronus, which is the main weapon against dementors.”

“Against vampires, my favorite spells are ‘lumos solarius’ which creates concentrated sunlight and ‘telum lignum’ which makes wooden darts shoot from your wand. Here are the wand movements.”

Flitwick demonstrated and made both Harry and Hermione cast each of those spells successfully ten times to cement the incantations and wand movements.

“Now, against werewolves, I prefer ‘telum argentum’ which makes similar silver darts and ‘incarcerous argentum’ which conjures silver chains.”

Flitwick again demonstrated and required them to cast the spells.

“Against undead, fire spells tend to work well. Mr. Potter used these successfully against the mummies, an Egyptian version of Inferi.”

They practiced flame spells, which they were both already familiar with.

Once they had drilled those specialty spells, Professor Flitwick said, “Take a short break, drink some water, and then we’ll have a duel.”

Harry walked to Remus and pulled him aside. “Uncle Mooney, can I talk to you?”

“Sure, cub, what’s up?”

“I don’t want to duel you.” Harry said.

“Why?” Remus said, “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Harry said, “That’s not what I’m afraid of. I understand what Professor Flitwick is working at. He’s trying to break down some mental barriers I have against dueling my friends. I understand that, but I don’t want to duel you or Sirius. If I lose, then I lose. If I win, then it’s embarrassing for you that a schoolkid beat you. I will feel terrible that I beat you, but I’m realizing that if I don’t fight to win, then I’m training myself badly.”

Remus nodded. “I understand. I do. But look around. It’s Professor Flitwick, one of the nicest professors at Hogwarts, me your uncle, and Hermione, your fiancée. No matter how this goes, you don’t need to be embarrassed. I was one of your defense teachers. If you beat me, it just proves I was a better professor than I am a duelist. Besides, I think Filius has told you that he controls the setting of these duels. You may find that you win or lose based on his educational goals as much on your talent. You already understand that you have to do your best to get the full benefit out of this. Focus on that and the rest will work itself out. I love you, cub. I won’t be mad no matter what.”

Harry looked at him and finally released his tension in a long sigh. Remus drew him closer in a hug, an unusual thing for the reserved man.

They took their places on the dueling floor. Harry took deep breathes, centering himself. He let go of his fears of fighting his uncle. He released his anxiety. He felt the Machine taking over and it felt so good to let go. The Machine was confident, implacable, and ready. It lived for the fighting.

“Bow and begin.” Flitwick said.

Harry bowed a precise bow, flicked his wand in a salute, and began. Small precise wand movements in a constant interweaving pattern with the non-verbal thought of the spells sent a chain of disarming spell, cutting curse, bludgeoning hex, freezing charm. Harry had practiced to see what spells naturally flowed into each other most smoothly and developed some pre-loaded chains. Remus dodged, preternaturally quickly due to his werewolf nature. He loped towards Harry, dodging Harry’s spells all the way. Harry calmly continued chaining spells together, then before Remus reached him, he apparated to the other side of the room, continuing his chain. He surprised himself, having apparated exactly across the room, because the spells that had missed Remus were now streaking towards him, apparition moving him across the room instantly, faster than the spells themselves moved. He quickly apparated again, this time 45 degrees off to the side.

Flitwick laughed, having seen newer duelists do this to themselves before.

Remus, having tried to close the distance with Harry and use his greater strength as a werewolf, even in human form, rolled out of the way of the stream of spells and began flicking his own wand. The two faced each other and cast. Harry dodged most of the return fire, blocking only when he had to. He knew Death Eaters often used Avada Kedavra, which could not be blocked, so he wanted to avoid becoming dependent on shield spells. Remus was so fast, he also mostly dodged, but occasionally blocked Harry’s hexes.

The two were relatively evenly matched, Lupin having been chosen as professor for DADA for a very good reason and Harry being a prodigy. They circled, slowing their casting as neither had landed anything yet and they needed to evaluate. Harry flicked his wand and Lupin flinched, jumping aside before Harry even cast anything. Harry chuckled and continued to circle. Lupin growled and started a chain of spells. Bludgeoning hex flowed into body bind into disarming curse. Harry stepped aside, dodging the last spell that Remus had purposefully aimed to the side, hoping Harry would step into it.

Both were breathing heavily. Harry thought of his tactics as he circled. His tactics usually depended heavily on charms, as they were fast and he was reasonably good with them. However, Remus was a fantastically fast opponent, dodging everything thrown at him. Harry had an idea. In the middle of a chain of spells, he inserted one transfiguration spell, changing his timing on the attack charms to hide the gap. As expected, Remus dodged his hexes, returning fire with his own attacks. Harry dodged and continued to circle. As his plan unfolded in front of him, he started a string of flame hex, piercing charm, stunner. Remus again dodged to the side, but tripped over an animated chair that was stalking him from behind. The chair began kicking him while he was on the ground and Harry had time to stun his Uncle.

Flitwick rennervated Remus. He walked towards Harry with a strange look on his face.

“I like the way you integrated a transfiguration into your attacks. It’s something that’s been missing from your repertoire. I think we can improve your work further by building that in.” Flitwick said, looking cross, “However, I have one question. You apparated during the fight. Why?”

“You’ve talked about how important mobility is. Why wouldn’t I apparate.”

Flitwick nodded. “I see where I’m going wrong with my question. I don’t suppose my real question is ‘why’, but rather, how? And the why, is why didn’t you tell us you could apparate through wards?”

Harry’s heart sank, realizing he’d already exposed their secret weapon. He exchanged a quick look with Hermione and she returned his dismay.

“Ummm…. I didn’t realize the room was set to prohibit apparition.” Harry offered.

“Ok, understandable and there is a reason for that. The room is always warded against apparition, being part of Hogwarts, unless Professor Dumbledore specifically exempts it. I decided I wouldn’t tell you which it was set to during any given fight so you have to waste time checking, just like you will in reality. However, none of that explains the fact that you were still able to apparate and you didn’t tell me you had that ability!”

“Hermione and I just figured it out recently.” Harry sighed, explaining, “It’s house-elf apparition and due to some very picky requirements, I think we’re the only ones who will be able to learn how to do it. We wanted to keep it as a ‘secret weapon’, so we chose not to tell anyone, so word wouldn’t get out.”

Flitwick paced the floors, thinking. He scowled for a minute before resuming his pacing. Finally he looked up at Harry and smiled.

“Good thinking.” Flitwick said, “I can tell you’ve been trained by Moody. You’ve just accomplished something thought to be impossible and you keep it a secret to help you in a duel. Very sneaky. Keep thinking that way, you’re likely to need it. However, to accomplish the same thing, from now on, I will designate a day as either apparition allowed or apparition prohibited. Today is prohibited. Understand?”

“Yes, Professor.”

The two combatants again lined up. Remus winked at Harry, making Harry laugh.

“See, it wasn’t so bad!”

“Bow and begin.” Flitwick intoned.

After several hours of dueling both Harry and Hermione, Remus was mopping his face with his handkerchief.

“You’ve come a long way since I taught you the Patronus, Harry.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, “I wish we could have done that when you taught here.”

“Me, too!” Remus chuckled, “Too busy teaching you about Grindlows, I suppose. Although I think it would have hurt my credibility a bit if you’d beat me. Oh, I almost forgot. Take this mirror. It will let you communicate with Sirius and I. Just call either of our names to call us. One of us will have it with us at all times. I think Sirius has something he wants to discuss with you tonight.”

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Harry and Hermione went to the Room of Requirement, summoning a room that looked much like the Gyffindor common room. They sat on their favorite sofa.

“Any ideas for how we could kill the time while we wait for Sirius to call?” Hermione asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“I’m sure you brought a book.” Harry teased back, before leaning slowly in and gently kissing her. Unfortunately, at that moment the mirror began to vibrate.

“Harry Potter?” a muffled voice came from the mirror, until Harry pulled it from his pocket.

“Sirius!” Harry called.

“Hi, Sirius!” Hermione leaned in and smiled.

“How are my two favorite people?” Sirius asked.

“Well, thanks.” Harry answered.

“Starting any illegal dueling clubs?” Sirius said with a smirk.

“Wait, how did you learn about that?!” Harry exclaimed.

“You need to be more careful where you meet.” Sirius said, “The witch in the corner? Mundungus Fletcher.”

“That was Mundungus?” Harry asked.

“I thought that witch looked suspicious.” Hermione grumbled.

“Meeting at the Hogs Head? Really? You need to choose a better location next time.”

“It was better than the Three Broomsticks!” Hermione protested, “It’s so busy there we would have been overheard for sure!”

“So busy you might have been overlooked. You’ve got a lot to learn about picking meeting places.” Sirius said.

“Well, hopefully we’ve got a better one, now.” Harry said, “Did you ever hear of the Room of Requirement?” Harry asked.

“We looked for that for years!” Sirius said, “Did you actually find it?”

“We did!” Harry grinned.

Sirius grinned back at him. “Illegal dueling clubs, finding the Room of Requirement, you are a worth descendant of the Marauders, my boy!”

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The first meeting of Dumbledore’s Army began in the Room of Requirement Wednesday night. Harry paced in front of the wall and manifested the Room of Requirement. Having held the thought of needing a room where they could learn to fight, the room was wide open with cushions on the floor instead of chairs, mirrors on the walls that weren’t lined with bookshelves packed with books on defense.

Harry had warned the Black Isle crew to arrive early. He and Hermione showed them what they’d been learning with Flitwick and practiced with them for an hour before the scheduled meeting. It was a good opportunity for Harry to practice and to keep his friends up to speed with the newest things he was learning. He made sure to drill the spells they were planning for the day, although this group would not soon forget simple spells.

With a knock on the door, the other students began to arrive. Harry greeted the new arrivals, then ignored them as he leafed through one of the books on defense. Once everyone had arrived, he stood and speaking loudly, said,

“Welcome to the first meeting of our defense group. I want to get into our lesson plan, but Hermione has a few questions first.”

“One question, really. We need a name. We have to have something to call ourselves.” Hermione said.

“Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?” Angelina asked hopefully.

“Or the Ministry for Magic Are Morons group?” Fred asked.

“I was thinking,” Hermione said, “of a name that didn’t reveal what we were up to. One we could use outside around other people.”

“The Defense Association?” Cho suggested, “The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we’re talking about.”

“Yeah, the D.A.’s good.” Ginny said, “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army, because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?”

There was a lot of laughter at that, but when Hermione asked for a vote, it was unanimous. She wrote, “Dumbledore’s Army” in clear letters at the top of the roster and pinned it to the wall. There was some scattered cheering.

“I think we should begin with the disarming charm.” Harry said, “It is very useful in duels and the wand motion will help you learn the proper motions for many other useful hexes while being a bit more tolerant of error itself.”

“Oh, please.” Zacharias Smith complained, “I don’t think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?”

“I’ve used it against him.” Harry said quietly, “It saved my life last June.”

Smith opened and closed his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was silent.

“But if you think it’s beneath you, you can leave.” Harry said.

Nobody moved a muscle.

“I’ll demonstrate first.” Harry said, “Hermione, would you be willing to assist me?”

“Of course.” She said, smiling. Harry grinned. Hermione assiting him was a short summary of the last four years.

He lined up against Hermione and made a large, very clear wand movement while clearly speaking the incantation, “Expelliarmus.” Hermione’s wand flew into his hand.

“That’s the wand movement, slightly exaggerated for clarity, and incantation.” Harry lectured, “Once you’ve gotten good at it, you’ll be able to cast like this.” Harry appeared to simply jab his wand and non-verbally disarmed Ron.

“Ok, divide into pairs and practice. My assistants will circulate and help where needed.”

The Black Isle crew circulated, giving tips, pointers, and correcting where necessary. Soon wands were flying throughout the room, along with books off the shelf when students missed.

When Harry saw Cho practicing with her friend, he noticed the friend giving him sour looks. Harry sent a quick message to Hermione through the bond. Hermione came along and offered to work with the girl for a few moments while he pulled Cho aside.

“Cho, how’s it going.”

“Well, Harry.” Cho said in a friendly voice, “How are you?”

Good, thanks.” Harry said, “What’s with your friend?”

“Oh, Marietta?” Cho replied, “Don’t mind her. She didn’t really want to be here, but I made her come with me. Her parents have forbidden her to do anything that might upset Umbridge, you see – her mum works for the Ministry.”

“What about your parents?” Harry asked.

“Well, they’ve forbidden me to get on the wrong side of Umbridge too.” Cho said proudly, “But if they think I’m not going to prepare myself, they don’t remember how they raised me. Cedric and I are in agreement. He says it could have been him that touched the cup and he would have had to face Voldemort. None of us are safe.”

“Well, my father is a very supportive of any anti-Ministry action!” Luna said with a smile, beginning one of her typical rants. Harry smiled at her and moved on.

Hermione called time and they split up to go to their dorms, with Harry supervising their disbursement using the Marauder’s Map to make sure the coast was clear.

That night, Harry had a dream of a long hallway with a door at the end. He could tell it was a sent dream, because it was muted, seen through the subtle walls of his occlumency. He tried to memorize all the details he could, but woke before he saw much more.

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Thursday, Harry diligently worked on his potion in Professor Snapes class, happily thinking of the successful first meeting of Dumbledore’s Army. He had really enjoyed teaching and thought it went well.

“What are you smiling at, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked hatefully.

“Nothing, Professor Snape.” Harry answered.

“Five points from Gryffindor.” Snape hissed.

“For smiling, sir?” Harry asked.

“For your cheek, Mr. Potter.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry answered.

That night, he walked hand in hand with Hermione down to the dungeon for their lesson in occlumency.

“Good evening, Professor Snape.”

“Is it, Mr. Potter?” Snape replied.

Harry laughed. He wasn’t sure when he’d made the mental leap, but at some point he’d realized Snape was all one big affectation. Perhaps it was when he figured out how to recreate the billowing robe effect, but now when Snape put extra effort into being nasty or menacing, Harry could appreciate the showmanship.

Snape just stared at him even more balefully.

They spent the night reinforcing the new subtle wards while Snape attacked them with legilimency.

“You may be teachable.” Snape said at the end of the night, “I think Miss Granger should be awarded a medal for service to the school. She has made such a change in you, Potter.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry said with a straight face.

“Keep working on it, Mr. Potter. One compliment does not mean slack off, understood?”

“There was a compliment in there, sir.”

“You’re dismissed, Potter.”

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Next Monday, Harry went to Defense with a smile on his face. He sat there with Slinkhard’s ridiculous text on his desk, but in his mind he was relieving his duels with Remus. He was thinking about the students in the DA who’d successfully cast the disarming hex because of his instruction. He knew he’d gotten a bit of a black eye during his duels and he hadn’t let anyone heal it. It was already turning green/gold now, but he knew it was there. He felt like the blokes in that movie, Fight Club. Umbridge was his annoying boss, but he knew something she didn’t know, that he was using his skills at defense regularly and she couldn’t do anything about it.

She came by looking at each of their books to be sure they were doing as they were instructed. Harry smiled at her, watching as she hurried away. Yes, he enjoyed what he was doing very much.

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Tuesday, he discussed transfiguration with Professor McGonagall after he’d successfully completed the spell they were currently working on. He’d prepared a special surprise for Tuesday’s mastery level defense. Hermione had helped him, but he had an advanced question for the Professor.

“When you’re animating objects, can you make them dance to music?” Harry asked, “Or are they stuck dancing to whatever rhythm they initially select for themselves?”

“To music, Mr. Potter?” Professor McGonagall asked, confused.

“Yes, to music.” Harry sighed. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to explain. “Let’s say I wanted to entertain children and I wanted something to dance to music. Is it possible to coordinate animated object movement with existing music?”

“You are your father’s son.” Professor McGonagall said, looking half exasperated, but half pleased. She went on to explain to him exactly how to do what he wanted.

He spent lunch pouring over his notebook, where he’d sketched out his plan. He thought he should be able to make it work, but it would be challenging, especially if the guest opponent was as good as he expected. He wanted to be well prepared.

When the evening session arrived and he stood in front of the doorway, he took a deep breath. He had made a lot of progress over the few short months of the term. He’d realized he was truly talented and if he kept working as hard as he was, he could be very skilled indeed. He’d grown to want that. Initially he’d only been motivated by wanting to live to defeat Voldemort. Hermione’s love had helped him want that even more. He wanted a family with her more than he wanted anything. He also wanted a real life, though, and excelling at what he’d realized was one of his real talents was one avenue for that. He was renowned as ‘the-boy-who-lived’, which had always been odd, since it was for something he didn’t really remember. However, his skill at defense was a chance to earn his reputation and he was going to grasp it with both hands. Tonight was his chance to live up to his legacy and he hoped he was ready.

He opened the door, Hermione at his side.

“Sirius!” he said with a smile, “What are you here for? You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“Surprise, pup!” Sirius said with a huge grin. He was dressed in loose robes, his prison tattoos showing at the neck. He reminded Harry of some sort of Muggle rock star. Harry never could understand why Sirius wasn’t accompanied by groupies everywhere he went. He was just that charismatic, as well as rich, powerful, talented. Harry loved his godfather.

Flitwick taught them the animagus reverting spell. He taught them how to erect animagus wards, that would cause any animagus crossing them to revert to human form, as well as a version that would just warn of the animagus’ presence. Then he had Harry and Hermione demonstrate their entire repertoire of attack spells, showing Sirius how far they’d progressed in their abilities. Having spent every spare minute he wasn’t studying, in class, or practicing Quidditch either drilling defense spells, reading about defense spells, dueling, or teaching others how to cast defense spells, Harry knew he’d made immeasurable progress. He’d estimate he’d cast each of his spells thousands of times. He couldn’t tell his wand movements from Professor Flitwick’s. He was a little afraid he’d burn out if he kept working that intensely, but so far he was still enjoying the work and his progress was really motivating him. He sometimes worried more about Hermione. She did everything he did on top of demanding independent transfiguration work with McGonagall and researching horcrux detection and destruction.

“Are you ready to duel your godfather?” Flitwick asked.

“Ready?” Harry said, “I’m not sure about that. I just hope I’m not grounded when it’s all over.”

They all had a laugh at that.

“Take your places.” Flitwick said, “Bow and begin.”

Harry worked hard at centering himself. He was really focused on success in this duel, although he wasn’t sure Flitwick would agree with his definition of success. He bowed, saluted, and tossed out the contents of a package of toothpicks with his left hand while casting a musical charm with his right. He quickly dodged a stunning spell as Sorcerer’s Apprentice began playing. At the first notes of music, his robe changed color to a solid red and a blue hat appeared on his head. He dodged two more spells from Sirius and quickly transfigured the toothpicks into an army of animated mops carrying mop buckets full of water. Another spell and the mops were dancing to the music. Harry deflected a body bind, but noticed Sirius was casting more slowly as he tried to figure out what was going on. Harry prayed that he’d seen the cartoon at some time or this wouldn’t be half as funny as it should be.

The mops began dancing towards Sirius, mop buckets in hand. Harry limited himself to defense, dodging Sirius’ attacks when he could, shielding when he had to. Sirius had stopped attacking as he broke down in laughter. Harry pretended to conduct the music as the mops threw water on Sirius and began to mop him.

As he’d practiced, Harry hid the motion to a non-verbal freezing spell in his pantomimed conducting, freezing the water on the floor beneath Sirius. Suddenly without firm footing, Sirius fell to the floor. Harry sent a quick expelliarmus-incarcerous-expelliarmus-incarcerous chain at his Godfather and the duel was over.

Sirius was still laughing. Harry looked over and saw Hermione was also doubled over laughing.

“Finite.” Flitwick cast, freeing Sirius. Before he could cast a spell to disanimate the mops and vanish the water, Sirius stopped him.

“Wait! Let the song finish, Filius!”

“What is the meaning of this?” Professor Flitwick asked, genuinely confused.

“It’s from a muggle cartoon movie.” Sirius explained, “Lily Potter showed it to me. It’s called ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice’ a funny play on words for our apprentice here.”

Flitwick shook his head.

“We’ll get a copy of the movie for you to see, somehow.” Hermione said.

Harry decided the fact that Professor Flitwick kept them several hours later than usual until they were all on the edge of magical exhaustion was because he hadn’t seen the Mickey Mouse version. The laughter from his Godfather had been worth it, though.

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A/N: I had to watch Order of the Phoenix while I wrote this. Really excellent movie, but I had never realized they completely cut the part where Dolohov hurts Hermione. I was shocked. It really changes the whole flavor of the thing. There was very little damage on the part of any of the Hogwarts students. Luna gets a bloody lip.

I also saw a really excellent clip on youtube called 101 reasons I’m a Harry/Hermione shipper or something like that. Very sweet.

I hope you’re enjoying the story. I’m not sure when the next installment will be. I wouldn’t expect it this fast, but I had the day off. Happy Independence Day, America!

21. Journeyman Duelist

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t profit from my writing.

Chapter 21: Journeyman Duelist

Wednesday they had the second meeting of the DA. Harry met with Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville in the Room of Requirement beforehand. He drilled with each of them through their favorite five spells, the ones they expected to use over and over again.

“I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times. Bruce Lee said that.” Harry lectured. “I think that there may be times when we want to know a broad range of spells, but for every day fights with Death Eaters, I think we could get away with a handful and never suffer from it. Besides the killing curse, what do they use? Crucio? My fight with them in the graveyard shows that they’re not fans of variety. I don’t think we need variety to kick their asses.”

He watched them, went around to each to help them with the finer points of the wand movements. Once they were all tired and need a break, he sat with them on the floor.

“I’m really learning a lot from Flitwick and all this dueling. Almost every night I find a little time to duel with whoever is here that week. What I’m learning is that besides perfecting the spells, which you can do on your own time for the most part, the biggest thing is confronting your own mental limitations. Getting enough experience so you can feel the fight develop, see what spells they’re throwing your way and knowing whether you need to dodge or can afford to shield. Most of my fights seem to come down to who’s fastest, both at dodging and at casting. I think Ashdown’s training is really coming in handy there, so be sure to take that as far as you can.”

“Ok, pair up. We have time for a few short duels.”

Hermione paired with Ginny. Ron paired with Luna. Harry paired up against Neville, planning to watch what he could of the others at the same time.

They each lined up in formal dueling protocol. Harry had let them know not to get too used to this, because a lot of their fights would be just fights and being too tied to formal dueling style would be a hindrance, but with three duels going on simultaneously, it was better for the space. Each bowed to their opponent, saluted and the duels began.

Ginny instantly shot out a reductor curse, which Hermione neatly sidestepped, while waving her wand in a complicated pattern. Harry didn’t immediately recognize the spell, but when Ginny transformed into a red fox, he realized Hermione had gone for her new transfiguration knowledge.

Luna and Ron both went for stunners first, but Luna was faster and Ron was unconscious.

Neville chose expelliarmus as his first attack. Harry sidestepped, keeping an eye on the other boy. Neville shot a bludgeoning hex and then a piercing charm. Harry dodged one and blocked the other, using the opportunity to practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione return Ginny to human form and Luna wake Ron, then he had to look away to dodge a string of curses from Neville. The other two pair, bowed, saluted and began dueling again. Harry looked back to Neville to find a string of bludgeoning hexes headed his way. He tried to dodge, but Neville had put enough spread on them that dodging one put him right in the path of the next. It hit him in the ribs, hard. Neville’s spells were always powerful now and the bludgeon hit Harry like a freight train. He was blown back ten feet and he heard some of his ribs crack. His breath was knocked out of him and he couldn’t speak.

Luckily, with non-verbal casting, he didn’t have to. Before his conscious mind had registered what had happened, perhaps before he’d even hit the ground, he’d disarmed, stunned, and bound Neville.

“Damn, that hurt.” He groaned.

“Harry, are you ok?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, I will be, but man Neville throws a mean spell.”

He released Neville and woke him.

“Good one, mate.” Harry said, helping him up.

“Well, thanks, but I shouldn’t have let my guard down when I hit you.”

“True, Nev, true, but still a good job.” Harry replied.

He took a second to watch Ginny against Hermione. Ginny had the Weasley temper and being changed into an animal had set her off. She cast as fast as she could sending a never ending stream of curses at Hermione. Hermione calmly dodged and parried, her eyes focused on Ginny’s hips so she could take in the girl’s whole body including her hands. The old Ginny would have cast a single spell at a time. They’d all been in that mode at first. Harry remembered his first duel with Malfoy in front of Snape and Lockhart. It was like punch, then take a punch, punch, then take a punch. That was just a good way to get punched. Ginny had learned and was trying to keep Hermione defensive so she couldn’t cast back. Before Black Isle, Harry didn’t think Ginny would have been able to keep up the onslaught for that long, either, but she’d built up her magical reserves and while Harry wasn’t precisely counting, he was pretty sure she was near 20 spells in a row now.

Hermione continued to duck, sidestep, and shield when she had to. Her curly hair was escaping from her braid in little tendrils and Harry had never seen her look so hot, with her face flushed and the intense look on her face. Ron and Luna stopped to watch as Ginny chased Hermione around, casting spell after spell.

“Blimey.” Ron said, his mouth dropping open.

Hermione’s defense was perfect. She finally slightly changed her shield, although with the non-verbal casting it was very difficult to distinguish one shield from another and Ginny was hit by several of her own spells rebounding back at her.

“Brilliant, but scary.” Ron said.

Harry heard a knock at the door and began to let the others in. Once everyone was gathered, he stood.

“We worked on expelliarmus last meeting.” Harry said, “Good job! Now, I’ve got rather a lot that I want to go on with and probably never enough time to do it. So I want to demonstrate several charms. The first is the Patronus charm. It is a very advanced charm requiring complete focus on your happiest memory in addition to the incantation and wand movement. A partial Patronus or shield form is useful, but a truly corporeal Patronus is the most helpful. I want to demonstrate this spell, then give you each a chance to try a few times. I’ll make sure you have the incantation and the wand movement down. I don’t expect all of you or perhaps many of you to successfully cast this one, but if I get you started today, you can practice and we’ll work on it again next week.”

Harry demonstrated, again slightly exaggerating the wand movement and very clearly enunciating the incantation. Prongs sprung from his wand.

Hermione demonstrated as well, her otter patronus swimming around her in a playful way. Ron cast his terrier. Luna summoned her hare. Ginny cast the horse she manifested.

“Good job, Cedric!” Harry said, seeing a shield charm with hints of a form, “Almost there, Cho.”

A few of the older students managed to cast a shield form in the few attempts he gave them time for, but no new corporeal forms were summoned.

“Good job!” Harry said, interrupting. “That’s really advanced magic, which is why I wanted to introduce it early. We’ll work on it throughout the year. Now I want to teach you a second offensive spell, the stunning spell. The incantation is stupefy. Split into pairs and work together. I suggest everyone grab cushions.”

He demonstrated, then went around the room with his assistants, helping and supervising. He decided to cut it short when he noticed most of them had managed the stunner. He wished he had a whistle, then noticed a whistle hanging on the wall right next to him. ‘Bloody useful room.’ He thought, then blew the whistle.

“Great! Last spell for the night. We talked about dodging as much as possible, but I do want you to learn the shield charm. The incantation is protego and the wand motion is thus.”

The assistants circulated, continuing working with the DA members until everyone had a useful shield charm. Some of the more advanced students had time to drill before Harry blew the whistle and called it a night. He used the map to help everyone get started towards the dorms without getting caught. Umbridge was getting more and more suspicious, but they’d managed to avoid her and her new inquisitorial squad so far. Harry intended to keep it that way.

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Harry and Hermione had to be up late that night, as it was one of their scheduled nights to patrol. They’d managed to arrange the schedule so they were always together. With the help of the Marauder’s Map, prefect patrols were quite simple and gave them time for their own snogging. Harry was relieved that Hermione had relaxed since they’d been dating. He was happiest giving warnings and sending couples back to the common room. He never wanted to take points for things he would be doing if he weren’t patrolling. Hermione was open to this philosophy. So their patrols consisted of finding any wayward students on the map and telling them to go home. It never took more than about an hour, and then they could go the Room of Requirement for some private time. Meanwhile, their reputation was for being infallible. Nobody escaped their notice.

Their bond was as deep as they could make it, but practice was still fun. They were also incorporating more legilimency versus occlumency practice. Splitting attention between bonding and meanwhile attacking the other’s mind was a truly schizophrenic exercise to build multi-tasking skills.

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Harry never checked the class standings. He didn’t need to, knowing Hermione kept a close eye. He’d moved up to number two, which had been somewhat of a challenge having to overcome three years of barely above-average work, but each year was weighted more heavily. Harry normally wouldn’t have cared, but he wanted to be Head Boy to be able to have private quarters with Hermione in their last year. Although married students also had private quarters, he knew Hermione wanted to be Head Girl and while not a jealous person, he couldn’t imagine anyone else being paired with her.

Potions class was going much better for him. Snape was no longer going out of his way to sabotage his work, although he was as sarcastic and derogatory as ever. Harry learned that his work with the Machine was useful there, too. He could set his subconscious to making the potion of the day while his own mind wandered. With his mind free, he’d began to be curious about whether there were other ways to make potions. When he’d done some of the supplemental reading, he’d discovered that their standard potions text didn’t always feature the best way to process some of the ingredients. The standard text might recommend dicing when crushing was considered better in the supplemental text. He’d brought it up to Hermione one evening in the library.

“Hermione, have you ever read any of the supplemental texts for potions?”

Hermione just regarded him with a flat stare.

“Right, stupid question.” Harry said, “Did you notice that our main text doesn’t always use the best way to get whatever we need out of our ingredients?”

“What do you mean, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Well, the one I noticed was the Draught of Peace. You can crush the Valerian root for more juice and it improves the potion, but our main text never mentions that.”

“But Snape rights the instructions on the board.” Hermione said, “If he meant us to deviate from them, he would give us the other instructions.”

At this, Harry gave her a flat look.

“Ok, you’re right. We’re not here to learn to please Snape, we’re here to learn to brew potions well.” Hermione sighed, “So you want to annotate these differences?”

“Yeah,” Harry offered, “If we do a quick read through of the supplemental text and annotate the differences, then one of us could try with the differences and one the default way. If we see a difference, we’ll know. I’m willing to do the different steps if you want.”

Hermione looked at him for a second. “It might be better to alternate. That way if we get counted off, it’s not always one of us being counted down, but if it turns out better, it’s not always one of us getting more points.”

“Ok.” Harry said.

Since they’d started doing that, they’d noticed that the supplemental text alternate methods were generally superior. Snape had noticed too, watching whichever one of them was using the alternate methods. That person almost always received a higher grade unless they made a large mistake elsewhere, which never happened to Hermione and rarely to Harry.

That evening, they met for occlumency.

“You have made enough progress now,” Snape said, “that it’s time to start over.”

Harry looked at him, not understanding what he was saying.

“When you look at me like that, Potter, I wonder if you’re actually related to Weasley and not just his friend.” Snape said with a sneer, “In small words, what I’m saying is that you’ve actually learned to some extent what you’re doing. While you’re reinforcing your walls nightly, you’re just reinforcing the old walls that you started before you really knew what you were doing. You’re still using the mental organization that you started before your mind was truly organized. Now that you’ve got a strong subtle shield up, you can afford the risk of completely dismantling and rebuilding your core shields. Remember that in the mind, you’re not limited to normal building materials. If you want diamond walls, a mithril portcullis, or adamantine gates, you can build it that way. The key is that it’s only as strong as you believe it is. Tonight and until you’re finished, I want you to reorganize your memories, from bottom to top. With the benefit of your improved occlumency, you’ll find the increased organization worthwhile.”

They immediately began work, opening up their bond fully to cooperate. They didn’t want to waste time if one of them had a good idea then the other should have access right away. That was how they’d ended up where they currently were, with identical defenses.

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The next Tuesday evening, Harry walked into the dueling classroom in the dungeon with Hermione beside him. They found more people gathered than usual. Professor Flitwick was there, as always, but with him were Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Madame Pomphrey, and Mr. Ashdown from their summer work.

“Mr. Potter, I have asked the Headmaster and our other guests here today, because I feel we’ve come to a milestone.” Professor Flitwick began, “I have had a chance to evaluate your ability as a duelist and you have been wholly adequate thus far, so it is time to commence the second stage of your training with me.”

“Most duels between skilled duelists are won or lost on speed. I think you’ve seen this in some of your duels. You are exceptionally fast, which I suspect is due to subconscious magical intervention on your part to make it so. You then received instruction from Mr. Ashdown on how to purposefully increase your speed, which I believe you utilized well. After almost several months of utilizing his techniques, you will benefit from close personal work with him, the Headmaster, and Professor McGonagall for their expertise in transfiguration.”

“Then, I wish you to demonstrate your abilities to the Headmaster. I think you may benefit from personal attention from him.”

Harry nodded, looking at Hermione, who was also in agreement.

“Harry,” Ashdown started, “You’ve done wonderfully with the techniques I’ve taught you. As long as you occasionally focus on keeping those techniques up, you’ll never have a problem with your physical fitness. You don’t need to run regularly to do it, as your magic will continue to work even if not encouraged by regular exercise.”

“I completely agree with Professor Flitwick, that you had subconsciously been encouraging your speed and reflexes with magic your whole life, on top of a genetic heritage of the Potters, who’ve tended to be inclined to that already, as anyone who had seen your father play Quidditch would attest to.”

“Now, though, you’ve come to the point where we can take it further. Professional dueling does not have the same prohibitions you may be accustomed to from Muggle sports. There is no equivalent to ‘doping’. Any enhancement duelists make to their bodies is legal and is not even looked for, unless other competitors or coaches are looking to steal their techniques. Lord Voldemort is an extreme example. He has used dark rituals to make himself stronger, faster, and more resistant to damage.”

“Wise duelists will not go so far as he has. At the extreme, you begin to cause harm to yourself. Like Voldemort, you may become inhuman. I have a mastery in transfiguration specializing in human transfiguration, specifically performance enhancement. I will not be overly modest, I really am the best at what I do. I have examined you fully and conferred with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, who are very familiar with your magical core and are experts in the field. We have outlined the most aggressive course of action we can take without causing harm to you. We are prepared to coach you through the magic yourself while we assist. Are you agreeable?”

Harry conferred with Hermione instantly over their bond.

“I am.” Harry replied, then added on his own, “But I also want Hermione to be offered similar help, if she wants.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “I thought you’d insist on that, so we took the liberty of designing the appropriate scheme for her, as well. It is slightly different, because she has not been doing this subconsciously her entire life, has a different genetic background, and as a female of child bearing age we should be somewhat cautious not to interfere with hormonal processes that are more sensitive than the equivalent in the male body.”

“I will talk you through your portion of the process, Harry.” Dumbledore continued, “If you will engage your auramancy, with your permission I will enter your mind through legilimency and show you the pathways you will need to focus on enlarging and altering. Then Poppy will monitor your well-being while Minerva and I perform the external transfigurations Mr. Ashdown has thought prudent.”

“Will I look different?” Harry asked, worried.

“Not at all, Mr. Potter.” Ashdown chuckled, “That’s part of what I meant by wise duelists not going to the extremes. Your body type and genetic heritage were already conducive to speed and quick reflexes. Most descendants of the ancient families are to some extent as there has historically been some selection pressure. You’ve noticed that most of the Quidditch players are Purebloods or mixed heritage strongly associated with an ancient family, such as yourself?”

Harry nodded.

They led Harry to a bed they’d already set up within a ritual circle. Madame Pomphrey placed several magical devices with sticking charms on and around his body to monitor. Harry engaged his auramancy and concentrated on himself, while Professor Dumbledore cast legilimens.

‘Harry, follow me into your mind’ Albus said, being allowed past Harry’s mental barriers. They went deep into the central portions, deeper than Harry’s memories, to the control sections of his mind. Harry could sense the vast roiling energy of his magical core. Dumbledore quickly showed him the representations of the relevant portions of his brain and talked him through the techniques for widening already existing pathways that he’d developed instinctively and with Ashdown’s help between his magical core and those portions. Once he’d shown him what was needed, he withdrew to help with the rest of the work.

Harry was too focused to notice the ritual happening around him, but Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore cast intricate human transfiguration spells to assist Harry’s body in tuning his metabolism, strengthening his muscle fibers, his bones, and the attachments between them, optimizing his nerves for rapid conduction. They’d planned to correct his vision, but on closer examination quickly realized it theoretically should have been perfect and abandoned that plan, since there was nothing apparent to fix.

Coming out of his focused trance, Harry yelled at the pain. It was not cruciatus level pain, but it was a very uncomfortable burning sensation. He noticed his muscles jumping randomly and uncontrollably.

“What the hell is this?” he shouted.

“Language, Harry!” Hermione scolded, realizing after she’d said it that it was completely inane, but too worried to have caught herself.

“I forgot to warn you, your body will have to accustom itself to the new input.” Ashdown said calmly, “It shouldn’t be long before the worst of it is gone. The muscle fasciculation may continue sporadically for the night, but I expect your body will have healed itself by morning.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Potter, but any potion would just exacerbate the condition and delay your acclimation.” Poppy Pomphrey said to one of her favorite patients.

“I’ll be fine.” Harry said, “It’s already better. I was just surprised.”

Hermione secretly thought that Harry wouldn’t call out if his arm were ripped off, so she didn’t look forward to her turn, but was glad he was ok.

“Miss Granger, it is your turn.” Professor McGonagall said.

Harry thought he could tell the Professor was pleased he’d insisted Hermione receive the same treatment, but then again he was certain he wouldn’t be able to read McGonagall any better than he could read ancient Greek.

Hermione lay on the hospital bed and had the instruments attached. She focused on her auramancy. She was amazed at how far their auras had developed in the past year. She and Harry both had almost identical green and gold auras, which were very tightly drawn into their bodies, but to the sensitive eye were indicative of great magical power. The bond between them was readily apparent, the same size as the ribbon of aura itself, composed of a twisted ribbon of green/gold. The appearance made her smile. Harry’s dark fragment was the same as it had been last time she’d examined it, but seemed to be even more encapsulated by overlapping rings of intense green and shining gold. The dark color didn’t flow into any other part of his aura, but seemed fully isolated. She felt Dumbledore ‘knock’ on her occlumentic barriers and she skillfully relaxed them to allow him entrance.

‘Follow me, Miss Granger.’ Dumbledore’s mental voice said, ‘This piece here, this here, and this need to be connected more fully to your core along these pathways you have built.’

Dumbledore watched as she began the changes and then, satisfied she could do it without assistance or guidance, withdrew.

Professor McGonagall had begun the transfigurations for Hermione and Dumbledore, having worked with her since he’d trained her, noticed the utter perfection she was demanding of her art in this work. If he hadn’t already been fully convinced of Miss Granger’s role as her favorite student, this would have shown him, since Minerva couldn’t have put more care into the ritual if it had been her own daughter. He added his own prodigious power and near century of transfiguration mastery. They were accustomed to working together and while they might not be bonded, as Harry and Hermione were, decades spent working together formed its own bond. When they were finished, he thought that in both cases they had never before done a better job.

Hermione yowled as she opened her eyes.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” she whimpered. Harry held her hand and rubbed her back until the pain went away. She had the same muscle fasciculations he had.

“I had planned to test you both.” Dumbledore said, after Hermione’s symptoms had abated, “However, I did not plan that well. Observing your dueling abilities now would be no test at all and might be dangerous. Perhaps you would invite me to the meeting of your defense association and I could evaluate you there?”

Harry was stunned. He’d never thought Dumbledore would come to one of the DA meetings, but it was a brilliant idea. His presence, even once, would have a huge impact on morale.

“Please, Professor.” Harry said, “That would be fantastic! We normally meet immediately after dinner with just my assistants and I. Then, an hour later, everyone else arrives and I teach a lesson with time for practice.”

“Please invite everyone to attend from the beginning for this session.” Dumbledore said, “I will make your evaluation a bit of an exhibition, then I will help as one of your assistants during the lesson.”

Harry was wide-eyed at the thought the Headmaster was going to be assist the DA. He finally caught himself enough to nod.

“Very good, Mr. Potter.” Professor Flitwick said, “Pending the results of your work with the Headmaster, we will discuss your further training. Please meet here next Tuesday at the normal time. Professor Dumbledore may have additional sessions for you before then.”

Harry waited until the professors had left and then apparated he and Hermione to the hallway outside the Room of Requirement after checking the Marauder’s map to insure it was clear. He paced three times in front of the blank wall and a door appeared. He led Hermione in to a simple room with a narrow table at approximately hip height.

“What’s this Harry?” Hermione asked, “I’m not sure I feel up to any bedtime activities and a bigger bed might be better for cuddling.”

“We can do that after, but this is a massage table.” Harry said, “I thought it might help if I rub your muscles. I don’t know what I’m doing, but since I can feel what you feel, I don’t think it should be that hard to figure it out.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Harry.” Hermione said with a little smile, “Thank you.”

She undressed and lay down after Harry cast a warming charm on the table. A shelf with various bottles of massage oil appeared beside the massage table. Harry picked one that smelled relaxing and began to massage Hermione’s muscles, starting with her neck, moving down her shoulders, massaging both arms, down her back, both gluteal muscles, and both of her legs. He agreed that he wasn’t up for anything more strenuous, but it was difficult to resist her nude body, especially when he massaged her glutes and upper thighs, but he prevailed. Her moaning noises were not helping.

“Ok, turn over.” Harry announced.

“I can’t. I can’t move.” Hermione protested.

Harry pulled out his wand and gestured, levitating her, gently rolling her, and then lowering her body back to the table.

“All silent.” Hermione said, “Very nice.”

“I probably could have done it wandlessly.” Harry said, “But I didn’t want to take a chance on dropping you.”

He massaged her front, which was even more challenging from a self-control standpoint, but he succeeded. After he was done, he scourgified his hands and her body, then transfigured the narrow table into a bed. He called for Dobby and had him take a quick note to leave on Ron’s bedside table, letting him know they wouldn’t be running in the morning. Crawling into the bed next to the sleeping Hermione, he pulled up a transfigured comforter and fell asleep.

He woke to Hermione leaning over him.

“Hi.” She said when she saw his eyes open.

He groped for his glasses and put them on. “Hi.” He said, smiling.

“You let me fall asleep.” Hermione said.

“I don’t think there was any stopping that.” He chuckled, “I just didn’t wake you.”

“You didn’t get a massage, though!”

“I didn’t want to undo the good I’d done by making you get out of bed.” Harry said, “I was ok.”

“Well, we woke early enough that I can fix it now.” Hermione said. She transfigured the bed back to a massage table and picked an oil she thought smelled like Harry, like fresh air and broomsticks. She carefully massaged every muscle in his body, making him realize exactly how wonderful and relaxing the experience was. She made him roll over and massaged every muscle on the front of his body. Then, rubbing extra oil into her hands, she rubbed them over his abdominal muscles and onto his upper thighs, sliding her hands down his inner thighs and over his groin.

“Mmmm…not that I’m complaining, but I thought we weren’t up for that.” Harry mumbled.

“Oh, you’re up for it.” Hermione said smiling, “That was last night, Harry. This morning, I just woke from a lovely sleep and feel a million times better.”

“Then come up here.” Harry said, grabbing her hip.

Hermione knelt over Harry, still facing his feet. She scourgified the oil off his penis, sure she didn’t want to find out what it tasted like, but leaving it on the rest of him, liking how his slick skin felt against hers. She lowered her mouth, taking him inside, first just the tip, but then as deeply as she could. She groaned, muffled, as she felt his lips and tongue moving against her most sensitive parts. What a way to start the day… she thought.

Afterwards, they rushed to the Gyffindor dorms, splitting for a quick shower and change of clothes. Then they met Ron in the common room.

“What’s up with you two?” Ron asked.

“More work with Ashdown last night.” Harry answered.

“Oh, that fitness trainer guy?” Ron asked, “No wonder you weren’t up for running this morning.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Mate.” Harry agreed, as they walked out of the common room together.

At breakfast, Hermione sent the message to the charmed galleons of the DA, alerting them of the slight change in plans. Harry noticed DA members around the Great Hall getting their message and then finding them with their eyes. He resolved to warn them to be more careful about security. Umbridge was already suspicious. She couldn’t learn the whole truth or they’d be sunk.

Harry and Hermione hurried to arithmancy, which helped pass the time for Harry, who was nervous about the DA meeting that evening. Transfiguration went well, with both he and Hermione continuing to perfect their abilities at the standard curriculum.

“Feeling well today, Mr. Potter? Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall asked as she circulated to their desk.

“Very well, thank you Professor.” Hermione responded for both.

She nodded and continued her rounds.

After lunch they had herbology and care of magical creatures. Being outside was nice and helped the day pass more quickly for Harry. He ate a light dinner and then ran up to the seventh floor hallway after ensuring the coast was clear. He paced while thinking of the DA’s practice room. The door materialized and he hurried in. He paced in the training room while Hermione let the others in after she’d taken down the roster, not wanting to see they’d named themselves ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ in case he was offended.

“What’s up, Harry?” George or maybe Fred asked.

“Why the early start today?” the other continued.

“Dumbledore’s coming.” Harry said shortly.

There were surprised rumbles at that and the DA members quickly started speculating amongst themselves.

“He wanted to check out the group.” Harry said, “He said he’d do some kind of exhibition with me.”

“Awesome.” Neville said.

Everyone chuckled at that.

Precisely at 6 p.m. there was a flash of fire and Professor Dumbledore was amongst them.

“Oooh.” “Wow, that’s the Phoenix?” “Cool.”

“Mr. Potter invited me to see your organization.” The Headmaster stated, “I will have to insist this group remain…informal, given the recent decrees by the Ministry, but I think it is vital you learn to protect yourselves, so I will not shut it down. However, if you are discovered, I will not be able to stop the Ministry from disbanding this group, so please be discrete.”
“I had hoped the dueling club that Professor Lockhart proposed several years ago would become what this group appears to be, but alas, that did not happen. I thank Mr. Potter for his more successful efforts. He has become my apprentice, pursuing a mastery in defense. I am tutoring him outside the normal classes. I have asked if he would be willing to demonstrate dueling at that level with me today.”

There were cheers as the DA members imagined seeing Harry Potter dueling Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore gestured and the room was cleared, all the students congregating near the walls. Harry took his place on one end of the dueling strip while Dumbledore took the other. With a gesture of the Headmaster’s wand, a dome arose around the two of them, protecting the spectators. Harry bowed respectfully, then snapped a sharp salute with his holly wand. Dumbledore did the same with his light colored wand. Time seemed to slow for Harry, as Dumbledore leveled his wand and with only his fingertips sent a stream of spells at him. Harry sidestepped and returned fire with a fluid stream of his most crisply cast hexes. Dumbledore blocked all of them, then conjured two suits of armor similar to those lining the halls of Hogwarts, animating them to attack Harry. Harry gestured with his left hand, vanishing them both, before sending another chain of spells at Dumbledore with his wand.

He saw Dumbledore smile at that, then spin his wand in large circles over his head, flames rising in a hurricane of fire all around the dome. The Headmaster seemed to control the flames with his wand and the fire ripped around the circle, howling towards Harry. Harry cast the flame freezing charm and felt the tickle of the harmless flames wash over him. From the flame freezing charm, he flowed right into the freezing charm. Dumbledore blocked it, frost erupting on the floor and condensing into ice along Albus’ shield.

Albus sent a disarming curse, which Harry blocked, returning the same. Dumbledore blocked and flowed into another disarming curse, which Harry blocked, riposte, parry riposte. They returned the curse faster and faster, as if in a demented drill. Harry’s wand flew through the tiniest motion faster and faster, barely keeping up with the insanely skilled movements of the Headmaster. Eventually Harry no longer consciously blocked or returned, unable to pick out the individual spells, but his wand moved nonetheless and the curses kept bouncing from one to the other. Finally, he had to dive out of the way, but cast several reductors as he rolled along the floor. Dumbledore parried them without any seeming effort. He conjured birds out of nowhere and sent them screaming at Harry, who vanished them wandlessly. Birds were harder than metal suits, but still within his ability.

“Very good, Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore said, “I think we have given an excellent exhibition and propose we call it complete.”

Harry bowed to his mentor, acknowledging the end of the duel. He knew Dumbledore had held back significantly, had used it as a training exercise, but he’d seen enough to be impressed with the Headmaster’s skill and know he had a lot to learn. He hoped he’d shown enough skill to warrant Dumbledore’s direct involvement. Harry felt he’d performed better than ever. The speed he’d been able to muster had been impressive, his perceptions and movement all faster than they’d ever been. Time had seemed to slow as the Machine had taken over.

Dumbledore removed the dome protecting the DA members and a wall of noise washed over Harry.

“Blimey, Harry, that was wicked!” Ron shouted.

“If I’d known you could have done that, I’d never have doubted you, Harry!” Zacharias Smith said excitedly, which Harry never thought he’d hear.

Hermione ran to his side and gave him a big hug. “Well done, Harry.” She said quietly.

“Thanks, everyone.” Harry said loudly. “Thanks, but let’s get going. The Headmaster has agreed to work with us, so I don’t want to waste his time. Today I want to start with a brief period to continue working on the Patronus charm. Then we’ll learn and practice two new spells, the bludgeoning hex and the reductor curse. I’m going to ask for a demonstration. Ron, would you cast the bludgeoning hex on that dummy?”

Ron stepped forward, eager to show his skills as one of the Black Isle crew, although he’d left early he was still advanced among the DA. He carefully cast the spell, using large wand movements and clearly speaking the incantation. The dummy had a dent where the spell hit the side with a loud ‘thwack’.

“Very good!” Harry said, “Now a spell I could have used on the animated armor, the reductor curse. It’s good on anything inanimate. In really bad situations, it’s also useful against people, but remember it’s not for use against people you don’t want to kill outside of dueling wards which will blunt the damage. Ginny, would you be so kind?”

Ginny pointed her wand, made the clear movement, and shouted, “Reducto!” Her dummy exploded into fragments.

“Well done, Ginny!” Harry said enthusiastically, “Any questions? Ok, begin with the Patronus.”

Dumbledore circulated, giving tips and encouraging his students. His skill with legilimency was very useful, allowing him to see what memories students were using and letting him help them pick stronger ones where needed.

“Susan, you’ve got the shield form, good job!” Harry said as he passed the Hufflepuff.

“Colin, keep it up! You’re almost there and this is a really tough charm.”

Harry blew his whistle, bringing everyone to a stop. “Really, really good work, guys. Now we’re going to work on the bludgeoning hex. I don’t really think we need to hit anyone with this, so we’ll be working with dummies, but I still want you to pair up. Watch your partner and be ready to critique them, then they’ll do the same for you.”

“Fred, George, you’re naturals at this one! It must be all the time you spend around bludgers!”

“Thanks, Harry!” George said.

“We had to be good to keep them away from your skinny a…” Fred said, suddenly seeing Dumbledore nearby, “…accident prone body.”

Harry chuckled.

“A little more of a twist at the end, Alicia, it really does make a difference.” Harry said.

“Smaller movements, Cormac.” Hermione said, “You’ll be much faster.”

Harry whistled.

“Ok, same pairs, but work on the reductor curse.” Harry directed, “The partner can not only critique, but repair or replace the dummy when needed. Watch where you’re pointing your wands. You don’t want this one to go astray.”

They circulated very carefully, watching all the DA members closely during this dangerous spell. Dumbledore was clearly also watching closely, but everyone was taking it seriously and there was no horseplay. Harry had worried that Smith might be a problem. Or McClaggen, but they’d both been pretty inoffensive.

Once they’d all had a chance to practice the reductor, Harry blew his whistle for the final time that evening.

“Well done, everyone.” Harry said, nodding, “Please, everyone thank the Headmaster for being here today. That’ll wrap up this meeting, let’s plan to meet again next Wednesday, unless anyone has a Quidditch practice?”

“No, we’ve all tried to move them away from Wednesday.” Cedric said, “Slytherins are practicing Wednesday.”

“Hey, thanks.” Harry said, “That’s really helpful.”

“No problems, Harry. This is really helpful. I thought I was good, but I’m really learning a lot.” Cedric said.

Harry and Hermione supervised the students’ departures while Dumbledore disappeared in a flash of fire from Fawkes. The couple sat on a couch which appeared next to one of the bookshelves at their thought. Harry continued to watch the map while Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder.

“You did really well today, Harry.” She said.

“Do you think so?” Harry asked honestly.

“I do.” She said, smiling up at him. It never failed to surprise her how he could be the poster boy for the entire wizarding world, at least when the Daily Prophet wasn’t smearing his reputation, but he never thought he was anything special. Boy-who-lived, youngest seeker in a century, Tri-Wizard Champion, but he had no ego at all. “Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t have bothered showing up for anyone else, let alone dueling them.”

“That wasn’t really a duel.” Harry said, “The look wasn’t there in his eyes. I want to duel him until I get that look. Then I’ll know I’m something. Until then, it’s just drill.”

“Maybe so, but the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump, the defeater-of-Grindelwald, doesn’t just drill with anyone.” Hermione said, grinning.

“Thanks.”

Hermione kept her eyes on the map. “This map is really amazing.” She said, “I’ve been picking Sirius’ brain on parchment charms. I’m almost there with a map of England that will show us where the other Horcrux are.”

“Really?” Harry exclaimed, sitting up. “I didn’t think that would be possible.”

“Neither did Dumbledore, at first.” Hermione said, “Not until we pooled our information did we make that kind of progress. He knew about your Horcrux, but I had done some research while trying to figure it out when I thought it was just a ‘curse scar’ that told me how to calibrate off the signature. It was Sirius and Remus’ expertise with the Marauder’s Map that helped me figure out how to use that signature. Otherwise, I was going to have to make a dowsing rod that would only work when we were really close and that wouldn’t be much help at all.”

“You’re really amazing.” Harry said, looking in wonder at his fiancée.

“No, I’m just highly logical and very well read.” Hermione said, “Which allows me to make connections others sometimes don’t.”

Harry laughed.

“Guess what else I learned about the Marauder’s Map?” Hermione said, “There are other modes.”

“Other modes?” Harry said, “What do you mean?”

“Well, they planned on you being the first of the new generation of the Marauders.” Hermione explained, “The map was designed to recognize people. You remember when it made fun of Snape when he tried to read it? Try this, put a drop of blood on it and say, ‘I solemnly swear I, the son of Prongs, am up to no good’.”

Harry pricked his finger, allowing a drop of blood to hit the map, while he said the new password. The blood seemed to suck into the parchment while the words appeared, almost seeming like the blood became the ink.

“Messr Prongs is proud to greet the newest Marauder! Welcome Pronglet to the Marauder’s Map. Uncles Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail join Prongs in welcoming the newest Marauder. Additional commands are below… to find a person by name, say find… to recommend a route away from staff, say escape… for directions on how to circumvent the girl’s dormitory stairs, wait until you’re older… to register your marauder name, say Pronglet is now called name.”

“That’s really cool.” Hermione said, “I don’t know why Remus failed to tell you about that before.”

“He’s always been the best behaved of the bunch.” Harry said, “That’s why he was prefect.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Hermione said, “So are you going to give yourself a Marauder name?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Harry answered quietly, “I like being Pronglet for now. I think I’ll ask Padfoot and Moony to name me, maybe when I’ve done the animagus transformation.”

There were a few minutes of silence as they sat companionably together on the couch.

“Can you believe how far we’ve come in the last year?” Hermione asked, “You and me, together.”

Harry just looked at her for minutes, taking in her well-loved face. “I know what you mean, but at the same time now I can’t imagine it being any other way.” Harry said.

“Me, either.” Hermione replied, “I think the only reason I was ok before was that I didn’t know what it was like to have found you.”

“I knew I was broken,” Harry said, “but I didn’t know I had another piece waiting to make me whole.”

Hermione’s eyes became suspiciously bright and she buried her face in Harry’s chest. After a few minutes, she looked up at him. “Feel free to say things like that anytime, Harry Potter.” And she kissed him.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

That weekend was the first Quidditch game, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Harry never thought the Quidditch schedule made much sense. There were so few games that one bad game could ruin a House’s chances for the Cup. Muggle sports would have had games almost every weekend instead of less than monthly.

This game would be Ron’s first and Harry had put effort into making sure Ron was ready. Both by flying with him as well as by working with him on his mental game. They’d sat and talked about what Harry was learning about the mental game from Flitwick. Ron said a lot of it sounded familiar from his Master Wu. Harry had admitted he’d thrown up before his first game, which made Ron feel better about his nervousness.

“I think you’ve got it made, Mate.” Harry said, “I had to get over my nerves and I was four years younger than you are now and I didn’t know occlumency. Those techniques should be bloody useful for dealing with nerves.”

“Oh, good point.” Ron said, “I can just wall them off.”

“That’s it.” Harry said, “Wall off the nervousness. Remember, the Slytherin’s are going to try to taunt you. You’re a bit known for a temper.”

“Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?” Ron protested.

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” Harry admitted, “But you’ll need to wall that off, too. You can’t let them get under your skin.”

“Ok, Harry. I’ve got it.” Ron said.

When Harry saw him Saturday morning, it was apparent he really did have it. His face was calm. Well, it was more just blank, but Harry recognized deep occlumency. He did a quick visual inspection of his friend, making sure he had his Quidditch robes on right. His gear and broom were locked in the Gryffindor locker room, safe from sabotage.

“Hungry Ron?” Harry asked, trying to gauge him even more.

“Starved, Mate.” Ron replied and began eating.

Luna ran up with a huge golden lion hat. As she reached them, it chose to roar.

“Isn’t this great?” Luna said, “I charmed it myself. I wanted Godric to have a dying snake in his mouth, but I ran out of time.”

“That’s amazing, Luna!” Hermione said, “You made it?”

Luna smiled, basking in Hermione’s praise. “I made it to cheer on Ronald. He’s going to be brilliant today! His mind is definitely in the right place. I offered to wank him off to relieve a little stress and he said he was too focused on the game.”

Hermione choked on her pumpkin juice.

Ron, deeply insulated by his occlumency, just gave a tight smile.

“Right, then.” He said, “Better be off.”

Ginny walking up shook her head. “How my brother can eat more food in 5 minutes than the rest of the team can eat through all of breakfast is astounding. Hi, Luna, nice hat.”

“Thanks!” Luna said, smiling dreamily.

“Don’t ask her about Ron’s mental state, no matter what you do.” Hermione whispered.

Harry and Ron walked to the pitch together. Neville had decided to join them, although he’d be watching from the bleachers.

“Hey, Nev, did you ever consider trying out?” Ron asked.

“I have recently.” Neville said quietly, “I was thinking of trying out for beater when your brothers leave.”

“You should, Neville.” Harry nodded.

“Thanks, Harry.”

They walked in silence until they separated at the locker room. Neville went up into the stands to get seats while the other two went in to get ready.

“Ron, you ready?” Angelina asked, examining her new Keeper.

“Never readier.” He said steadily.

“Good answer.” She said looking him over, “What about you, Harry?”

“I’m ready.” Harry answered, “I feel fast today. Just tell me when to catch it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Angelina said.

Once the entire team was suited up, they left the locker room in formation. Angelina was in the lead, while Harry was in the center of their vee. They ran out in step, making their footsteps sound like thunder.

“Gryffin…” Angelina cried.

“Dor!” the rest of the team responded.

“Gryffin…” Angelina cried.

“Dor!”

“Gryffin…” Angelina called a third time.

“Dor!” rumbled out from all the Gryffindor fans.

The team took their places and Angelina shook hands with Montague, the Slytherin captain. Harry noticed the silver crown pins the Slytherins were wearing and knew it couldn’t be anything good. The balls were released and the team exploded into the air like birds taking to the sky from the surface of a lake. Harry watched Ron zoom to the goalposts while he himself banked hard, settling into a high orbit and looking for the Snitch. He forced his vision to shift into auramancy and immediately saw the balls highlighted by their magic, including the Snitch, which he felt drawn to instinctively. This felt almost like cheating and he fought with himself whether he should use it, but he remembered what Flitwick had said about no doping in dueling, so maybe unfair advantages were a Muggle concept. Why else could the Slytherins by a full set of racing brooms? Or why was he on a top of the line broom while others were on school brooms? No, he didn’t think wizards believed in Muggle ideas of equity. So he circled, trying not to let on where the Snitch was and waiting for either Angelina to give him the signal or Draco to get anywhere near the Snitch, whichever happened first.

As the game unfolded below him, he began to hear faint strains of a song from the Slytherin fans.

Weasley cannot save a thing
He cannot block a single ring
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our king

Weasley was born in a bin
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley will make sure we win
Weasley is our king

Weasley is our king
Weasley is our king
He always let's the Quaffle in
Weasley is our king

Harry was confident Ron wouldn’t take the bait. Snape may have mocked his ability for occlumency, but he had learned well enough to shield his emotions from schoolyard taunts.

The Quaffle went back and forth. The Gyffindor team was probably better overall with more experienced beaters and a top-rank chaser squad, so it all came down to Ron, the new keeper. Harry took an instant to watch Ron as he saw that Malfoy was nowhere near the snitch. The Weasley is our King song rose up from the stands in a crescendo as the Slytherin fans tried to distract Ron.

“…and it’s Warrington with the Quaffle, heading for the Gyffindor goal, out of bludger range with just Weasley, the new Gryffindor keeper ahead…”

Ron zoomed in front of the Quaffle and easily blocked it, sending it back towards Angelina, giving the Gryffindor chasers the advantage.

Harry caught Ron’s eye from far above and gave him a nod. Ron returned it, then went back to his sentry, just as Harry went back to his.

With Ron proving himself, it wasn’t even close. Angelina, seeing how the game was going let it continue so they could run up the score, helping their Quidditch cup chances later and giving Ron some real on-the-field experience. Harry circled in his usual fashion, keeping a subtle eye on the snitch and a less subtle eye on Malfoy, making sure he never saw it. He took a few advantages to toy with the Slytherin team, such as watching a breakaway Slytherin chaser push for the Gryffindor goal while the Slytherin beaters had the bludgers. Harry pretended he saw the snitch and went into a full speed dive, shooting right in front of the Slytherin chaser at speeds that would have made impact fatal. He distracted Malfoy, who desperately dove to reach the non-existent Snitch before Harry could and he caused the Slytherin chaser to drop the Quaffle. By the look on his face, he might have soiled himself, too, but Harry didn’t have time to gloat, as he pulled out of the power dive inches above the turf, his trainer tips dragging the grass as he recovered. Malfoy had been too slow and hadn’t even gotten into a full dive, which was the only thing that saved him from plowing into the soil. Harry chuckled, knowing there was always next time. He kept his speed up, not giving up his bluff. He didn’t want to become known for how often he used the Wronski feint or it would be less effective, so he continued flying as if he still had the snitch in sight, taking Malfoy weaving through the supports beside the stands.

Finally, watching Angelina, Harry caught the sign. The score was 100-0, Ron having protected the goal amazingly well. His brothers had kept a close eye on him, too, and had taken out some promising chaser runs. Harry had helped. With the Weasleys and Potter, it was like having one family provide the majority of the Gryffindor team and they’d played like it.

Harry had kept an eye on the snitch the whole time. He had a suspicion for how the snitch detected seekers to avoid them and he brought his aura in as tightly as he could. Among all but the most sensitive witches or wizards, he would pass for a muggle for how he felt magically. He couldn’t do anything about the magic of his broomstick, but he hoped the snitch looked for the seeker and not the stick. He casually circled closer to the snitch while trying to ignore it, then, when he was within reach of a quick run, he dropped the tip of his broom and went to full speed. Draco was close, too, and seeing Harry go into a dive, he dropped his broom into his own dive. The snitch began evasive maneuvers, whether it detected Harry or Malfoy, he wasn’t sure, but it jinked towards the Slytherin goals, which took it towards Malfoy. They were flying neck and neck. Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his hand from the broom, reaching for the snitch. Maloy jostled him from the side, trying to stretch past him, his fingertips scrabbling over the back of Harry’s hand. Harry banked hard into him and then back, sending Malfoy careening off towards the stands while Harry’s fingers closed on the snitch. He pulled up into a victory roll.

He felt something was off, his auramancy screaming of hostile magic inbound. He jinked to the side, hoping to throw off the aim of whoever was shooting a curse at him, only to see a bludger scream by where he’d been milliseconds earlier. A bludger felt like that? He supposed it did, now that he took a look. They were even nastier with their aura visible. He winced, knowing what a bludger to the back would have felt like.

Harry landed, looking for Madame Hooch, hoping whichever beater had hit the late bludger would be penalized.

“It was that thug, Crabbe.” Angelina said angrily, “He whacked the bludger at you the minute he saw you’d grabbed the snitch. But we won! Your friend was really good today. I wasn’t sure about him, but he was so cool out there, like it wasn’t his first game at all. You’re the only one I’ve ever seen play that way during your first game.”

“Thanks, Angelina.” Harry said, grinning, “He was good, wasn’t he?”

Just then, Ron landed beside him and Harry slapped him on the back.

“Great game, Mate!” Harry said, “You were amazing!”

“I was, wasn’t I?” Ron asked, with a cheeky grin.

“Now don’t go getting a big head, Ronald.” Hermione said, running up to them and wrapping them both in a monster hug. As soon as she released them, Luna threw herself into Ron’s arms, her hat roaring. Harry stepped back to watch, a smile on his face. It felt almost like he had a family when he was around his friends.

“Saved Weasley’s neck, didn’t you?” Malfoy sneered at Harry, “Did you like my lyrics? He was born in a bin and probably a borrowed bin, who knows if the Weasleys could afford their own.”

Harry looked disbelievingly at Malfoy.

“Saved him? What’s that rot? He didn’t let in a single goal. Your song proved to be right, Weasley is our King!”

“We wanted to write another couple of verses!” Malfoy called, “But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly… we wanted to sing about his mother, see…”

Harry’s mind was working fast. Malfoy mocking was nothing new, but he seemed almost desperate this time, given that Ron had played really well. Why?

“Talk about sour grapes.” Angelina said, casting a disgusted look at the Slytherin.

“…we couldn’t fit in useless loser either…for his father, you know.”

Fred and George heard that and stiffened looking around at Malfoy. Harry caught their eye and gave an almost imperceptible shake. Something was up and he knew he didn’t want to fall for whatever Malfoy had planned.

“Leave it,” Angelina said, taking Fred by the arm, “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, the jumped-up little sh…”

“…but you like the Weasleys, don’t you, Potter?” said Malfoy sneering. “Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you? Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I supposed when you’ve been raised by Muggles even the Weasley’s hovel smells okay..”

Harry ignored it, isolating the portion of his mind that was calling for blood with a heavy dose of occlumency.

“Or perhaps,” said Malfoy leering as he backed away, “you can remember what your mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it!”

At that, even Harry’s occlumency was not enough. With his barriers fully engaged, he went into a cold rage. His mind worked at dueling speed, deciding on a response. Reductor to the head was his first idea, but murder would play into Malfoy’s plan, even if it resulted in no more Malfoy. He suddenly realized his only response.

“You’ve insulted the House of Potter, Malfoy. You’re the heir of Malfoy, so I know that you know better than that. You may retract your statement and admit you’re a liar with no honor or you may face me on the dueling field. Hermione Granger, the future Lady Potter, is my second, as you have insulted the last Lady Potter. Have your second speak to her and pick a time and place.”

“Here and now works for me, Potter!” Malfoy yelled.

“You don’t even know how to choose a second?” Potter sneered.

Malfoy turned red and grabbed Crabbe. Harry laughed inside. He’d picked a second that could clean the floor with Malfoy if seconds got involved, while Malfoy had made the mistake of picking a thug with poor wand skills.

Malfoy whispered in Crabbe’s ear. Crabbe lumbered up to Hermione.

“Draco says here and now, Mudblood.”

“Lord Potter agrees to those terms.”

Hooch, McGonagall, and Umbridge had reached them in time to hear this exchange.

“Mr. Potter, you’re not proposing to duel Mr. Malfoy right here, are you?” McGonagall exclaimed, horrified.

“He said nasty things about my late mother, Professor.” Harry said, coldly but respectfully, “I won’t stand for it. The honor of House Potter won’t stand for it. I challenged legally with an option for him to retract his statement. He accepted and chose now as the time and place. It is all within the codes.”

“Hem, hem.” Umbridge interrupted, “I have to agree with Mr. Potter, although this clearly appears to be another one of his attention-getting stunts, he is within his rights.”

McGonagall’s eyes narrowed. Lily had been one of her favorite students. She leaned near Harry.

“Don’t kill him.” She said, but then a look of hate passed over her face, “But you can hurt him, he has earned it.”

The crowd cleared. Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape, and Professor Dumbledore appeared on the field.

“Are you sure you both want to do this?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

“Yes.” Harry said coldly.

“Yes, I’m going to teach this halfblood a lesson.” Malfoy sneered.

“They’re within their legal rights.” Umbridge said in her saccharine voice.

Harry wondered what she was thinking. Even if he killed Malfoy, he wouldn’t be punished for it in a legal duel. He might lose some support, though, maybe that was her aim.

“Would you both be satisfied if I ran the duel?” Professor Flitwick offered.

“Yes.” Hermione said.

Malfoy whispered to Crabbe.

“We want Snape.” Crabbe said in his thick voice.

“Professor Snape.” The Headmaster corrected automatically.

“We want Professor Snape.” Crabbe replied.

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione and they both attempted to look unhappy, but then Hermione replied, “Professor Snape would also be acceptable to us.”

“Charming.” Snape said silkily, “I’m flattered. Very well. Standard rules apply. No unforgiveables. You will start back to back, take ten paces away from each other, then turn. You will bow, salute, and once you have both saluted, you may begin without any other signal. Is this understood.”

“Yes.” Hermione said.

“Yeah.” Crabbe grunted.

Harry and Malfoy stood back to back. Harry could feel Malfoy shaking, but whether it was fear or just nerves, he wasn’t sure. They took ten deliberate paces away from one another, then turned. Harry gave a crisp bow, letting the routine submerge him even deeper in his center. He saluted and then waited, expectantly.

“Diffindo!” Malfoy called out, sending a cutting curse at Harry, who calmly sidestepped, looking for the follow-up spell. Nothing was immediately forthcoming.

“Stupefy!” Malfoy cast. Harry didn’t even have to side step, as he could see it would miss if he merely leaned aside.

“Confringo!” Malfoy yelled, becoming frustrated. Harry dodged. “Serpentsoria!” Draco cast and Harry actually laughed. Didn’t he remember their earlier duel? He just provided a weapon for his opponent. Harry vanished the snake without a movement, wanting Malfoy to be confused at how he’d done it.

Malfoy’s eyes were wide, but then narrowed. “Can’t even cast any spells of your own, Potter? I guess you were raised by Muggles and had a Mudblood for a mother. Maybe you can’t.”

Harry just stood, ready. “Get on with it, Malfoy. I didn’t want anyone to say I didn’t give you a chance.”

“Incendio!” Malfoy shouted, pouring his all into the basic flame spell, sending a decent stream of fire at Harry. It was nothing compared to the wall of flames Dumbledore had conjured previously and Harry cast the flame freezing charm silently, letting the harmless flames wash over him with a pleasant tickling sensation.

Then Harry flicked his wand sharply at Malfoy, sending a piercing charm through this right shoulder. Malfoy yowled in pain, dropping his wand and holding his shoulder. His Quidditch robes became darker as his blood began to soak through. Madame Pomphrey started to step forward, but Snape gestured her back.

“It is not yet done.” Snape hissed.

Harry stalked towards Malfoy, his wand at the ready. Malfoy didn’t even notice him until he was standing above him, as the blonde boy was holding his shoulder and whimpering.

“I offer you the chance to yield.” Harry said, his wand leveled at Malfoy’s forehead.

“You’ve already beaten me, Potter!” Malfoy cried.

“I could by rights, kill you.” Harry said coldly, “Apologize, or I may yet.”

“I’m sorry, is that what you want?! Just let them heal me, I don’t want to die!”

“You disgust me, Malfoy.” Harry said, “Never again. If you provoke me again, there will be no mercy.”

He nodded to Snape and stepped away from Malfoy.

“House Potter accepts the Malfoy heir’s apology.” Hermione said formulaically.

“The duel is complete. Let no part of this fight leave this field.” Snape said in response.

Harry walked off the field with Hermione, satisfied with how it had gone.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: I’m setting the stage for more action soon. Harry has to learn how to fight before he’ll be put into fights. Luckily, the Death Eaters are also in a rebuilding stage, using Fudge’s delay to rebuild their organization. Just like Harry is building up bigger and better during this period, the Death Eaters are also recruiting and training. There will be more of them than in canon, although many of them will be faceless minions.

Some things will come to a head soon. Umbridge is quiet for now, but it won’t be long until she reminds everyone that she’s present. The Inquisitorial squad is still active and she’s still looking for the DA, Harry’s just less worried about it, so it doesn’t get much attention in this work. The Daily Prophet is still printing their garbage, but Hermione has a plan. She’s just waiting for them to fully commit then ministry before she implements it. She’s also almost ready to unveil her work with the dark curse information which she has integrated with the map. This will have a huge impact on the Horcrux hunt.

Dumbledore is going to begin to take a more active role in Harry’s apprenticeship, as I hope I hinted at strongly here. Something I’m looking forward to!

Please review!

22. Duels with the DA

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and just write for fun, not earning any money from this.

Chapter 22: Duels with the DA

3 November

Sunday evening found much of the Hogwarts staff meeting in the Headmaster’s office.

“Thank you all for coming.” Dumbledore said, looking around. “We are here to discuss progress with Harry and Hermione’s apprenticeships. I have decided it is time to implement the second stage, but I want to be sure everyone has a chance to offer their observations.”

Professor Flitwick looked around and then began.

“The dueling practice is going well. They are both quick studies. Harry has more natural talent in the area, much as he has shown on the Quidditch pitch, but Hermione seems no less talented somehow. They’re both hard workers. I have noticed in Harry a tendency to hold back. He seems motivated most by being on the edge of failing, so I have tried to hide how really very talented he is. Bill Weasley almost gave it away after their duel, but I think I managed to stop him before Harry suspected. Hiding anything from Hermione is much more difficult, but she knows best how to motivate Harry and seems to do it naturally.”

“I have hidden from him how truly advanced their performance is. After speaking with Remus, I realized he does the impossible without thinking as long as it is couched as a task just out of his reach rather than completely unheard of in a fifth year Hogwarts’ student. As a result, he is doing more non-verbal and even significant amounts of wandless magic, none of which I have let on is anything unusual. I have encouraged him to be less than open about these abilities to hide his progress from Voldemort.” Flitwick continued.

Professor McGonagall nodded, “He was upset with me for taking him to task for antagonizing Umbridge. The next class I had with him, he wandlessly vanished a snail. That represented a huge leap in his transfiguration ability and he has continued on his new trajectory.”

Snape looked ill, but finally spoke up. “He has done marvelously in potions class. It is clear that he and Miss Granger are researching the potions in advance with superior alternative methods of preparation. They take turns implementing the alternative methods, which are identical to the alternatives that Lily and I devised during my time as a student. Both are highly skilled in occlumency and if tested by a Ministry tester, would likely be considered at the mastery level, although I have more work I desire to do with them maintaining shields while dueling, since I’m sure the Dark Lord will test that skill.”

Dumbledore sat, hands steepled in front of his face. “I am a bit concerned about the episode with Mr. Malfoy yesterday. While I was initially concerned it would result in another educational decree, this fear was unfounded. The Minister tried, but the Wizengamot blocked the move, jealous to maintain the power of the Pureblood Houses. Harry’s use of the Pureblood laws was masterful and even his enemies would not risk the Ministry taking away their traditional prerogatives. During the duel itself, I would much rather have seen him use a less harmful spell, with disarming, stunning, petrifying, or incarcerating spells all being preferable to a piercing charm.”

Both Flitwick and Snape looked eager to answer that.

“I think we must be realistic, Albus.” Professor Flitwick said, “He used exactly the spell I would have… if I’d decided not to kill Mr. Malfoy. It was enough to make an impact on the boy’s actions, knowing Harry could have killed him and likely in the future will if further provoked. It incapacitated his wand arm. It was relatively easy to heal. Perhaps in Heidelberg I would have been more likely to use a cutting curse due to the popularity of dueling scars; however I don’t think he wanted to give Mr. Malfoy an honor mark.”

“Headmaster, the spell he used was lighter than most his enemies would employ.” Snape said, “While trying to keep him from becoming the next Dark Lord is a consideration, making sure he defeats the current holder of that title is paramount. I have been inside his mind. He may have many flaws, but being inclined to evil or even unnecessary cruelty is not one of them. I have watched Draco push him for the past four years. Given complete freedom to do whatever he wanted, I think he was remarkably restrained. After that arrogant toe rag called Lily a mudblood, I am uncertain I would have been equally restrained.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Then none of you think this is evidence I should restrict my teaching of the more esoteric magics?”

“You don’t dare, Albus.” Minerva said, “The boy needs all the help he can get.”

The others all nodded.

“Then we are agreed.” Dumbledore said. “Is there anything else?”

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4 November

Monday evening, Harry met with the Headmaster in his office.

“Harry, my boy, have a seat.” Professor Dumbledore said in his most grandfatherly tone.

“Albus.” Harry said with a nod, repressing a grin yet again as he tried to get used to calling his headmaster by his Christian name.

“Harry, you are coming more and more to remind me of me.” Albus began, “Really, you remind me first and foremost of the best qualities of both your mother and father, but you also remind me of me. There are few wizards alive who really understand the limits of magical power. I am one. Unfortunately, so is Tom Riddle. You could become another.”

Harry remained silent, planning to let Dumbledore reveal his plans in his own way.

“This is the reason I took you as an apprentice. I was afraid of Tom from the beginning, but I failed him. I did not want to teach him and perhaps give him a head start on grasping the power that he eventually grasped despite my efforts. However, I failed to mentor him in a way that might have prevented that. I have never truly worried you would follow his path. You know too much of the pain that can inflict. However, until recently, I never saw in you the readiness to take up the path I am going to offer you. Now I do.”

“Hogwarts is a wonderful magical school, but no school can cater to every student need. Your situation is unique and I will be supplementing the Hogwarts curriculum in ways unique to that situation. I got a progress report from Professor Flitwick and he is satisfied with your progress. Professor Snape is satisfied with your progress, despite criticisms.”

“The one area I have always been concerned about for you, is your academic progress. Since you bonded with Miss Granger, my worries in that area have evaporated. In many ways, I was more like her in my passion for academics. By the time I graduated from Hogwarts, I knew many archaic magics and was in demand when masters sought apprentices. Sometime afterwards, I was lucky enough to study with Master Nicolas Flamel, the great alchemist. I learned secrets of alchemy that are unknown to any others to this day. I continued my pursuit of obscure magics for many years and expanded my knowledge beyond my wildest dreams. When I faced my Dark Lord, Grindelwald, I had this knowledge to draw on. You will not have this luxury, so I will impart a truth that I learned in my pursuit of knowledge that may help you. Few can use it, but you may be one such.”

“In my explorations of the globe, looking for more and more magical knowledge, I eventually went to Tibet. I studied with a Zen charms master. He trained me for almost a year before telling me his secret.”

Harry leaned forward, riveted, wondering what the secret was. Albus’ eyes sparkled as he enjoyed his greatest love, teaching a promising student.

“He told me, ‘Albus, the secret to magic is that once you have mastered magic, you will no longer need spells.’ I thought he was speaking of wandless magic and embarked on a yearlong effort to perfect my wandless casting. It was a productive year and I am still glad I spent it, but at the end, the master again approached me and said, ‘You are slow to learn. Once you have mastered magic, you will no longer need spells at all. Your magic will do your bidding.’ Do you understand what he was trying to say, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, also confused, but now understanding better where Dumbledore gained his habit of answering direct questions with parables.

“I could not understand his meaning either until he showed me something in his pensieve. He showed me how I had learned to cast a difficult spell that Nicolas taught me, and then he showed me how I cast it when I was with him. It did not resemble how I had learned to cast the spell at all. I should have been completely unable to cast the spell in this manner, but it worked because I expected it to work.”

Harry stopped to consider the implications of that.

“You mean that the years you spent learning the formal incantations and wand movements weren’t necessary?”

“Oh, I think they were necessary.” Dumbledore answered, “I was a very logical, rational young wizard. If offered that explanation early in my pursuit of knowledge, I think I would have failed to understand it. I was not in a position to use the knowledge until I had already learned the formal way. Even once I knew the Zen master’s secret, I was happy I had learned the formal way, because it is dangerous to take that shortcut. If you try to produce an effect without knowing the theory, you could attempt something outside your power and kill yourself through severe magical depletion. I do hope you will keep this in mind, Harry, as you do have a tendency to be rash.”

Harry nodded.

“To use this alternative way of generating magical effects, you must have a powerful magical core, an organized mind, and a good talent at visualizing. I think you have these traits, more so now that you have deeply pursued the art of occlumency.” Dumbledore said, “To test you, I am going to ask you to generate a flaming rope, a spell I know you have not learned in Hogwarts…unless Miss Granger discovered it and taught you?”

Harry scanned his mind for the information, to see if he’d unknowingly picked it up from Hermione. “No, she must not have gotten to that one, yet.”

“Very well.” Albus said, eyes sparkling, “Imagine restraining this dummy in a rope of fire and then unleash your magic. Do not worry about the room; it has been heavily warded against damage.”

Harry focused on what he wanted and then pushed his magic out. A puff of whitish substance, much like a Patronus shield form shot from his wand, but then dissipated.

“Not a bad start, Harry, but you must both visualize it more clearly and also let your magic know what you want. If you recall any bouts of ‘accidental magic’ you did as a child, think of how that felt, because that’s the sensation you should have.”

Harry went through his recently reorganized memories and quickly found the day he’d vanished the glass in front of the snake’s cage. He realized now he’d used a vanishing spell, but without wand, without incantation, and without even knowing what he was doing. How much easier should it be now?

He lifted his wand, touched his core, and strongly visualized his desire. A flaming rope shot from his wand and wrapped around the dueling dummy.

“Well, done, Harry!” Albus applauded, “I know you will teach Miss Granger. I do not doubt she will be in an excellent position to use this knowledge so long as she survives the aneurysm. Please do not share it with others, who may not have the strength to safely use this knowledge. I will continue to teach you some of the obscure magics I have learned, for the knowledge if nothing else. You can only imagine so much and the more you know is possible, the more you can attempt.”

Dumbledore went on to teach him the massive cyclone of fire spell he had used in their duel.

“This is particularly good when in the midst of a horde of inferi. Less well received when amongst your allies, but a sufficiently powerful wizard can control and direct the flames. The greatest of wizards can cast it using fiendfyre, but that is very dangerous. Ah, I think Miss Granger is approaching.”

Harry could feel Hermione coming up the staircase. She came in the door, kissed his cheek, and sat next to him.

“Miss Granger, I am pleased you could join us after your work with Minerva was concluded.”

“Thank you, Headmaster.” Hermione said politely, “I wanted you show you what I’ve achieved with the horcrux map.”

She pulled a case from her bag and a rolled parchment from within. She spread it on Dumbledore’s desk, waiting the corners with silver instruments he had on top. Engraved with exceedingly fine detail appeared to be a map of the UK.

“I have assumed that Voldemort is a bigot, based on his Pureblood views. I assume he will have kept all Horcrux within the country, although given that he was outside when Professor Quirrel first encountered him that may be incorrect. I was hesitant to actually try the parchment in case it alerted him or triggered any offensive wards when we initiate the scrying.”

“Very good, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said, “I will raise wards to prevent harm to us should this happen. I do not know that we can prevent detection of our efforts if he has sufficiently enchanted the Horcrux, but suspect he will not have planned for the discovery of one and scrying efforts based on possession of it.”

Hermione focused on the map and incanted, “Reperio Anima!”

Waves of golden energy flowed over the surface of the map like water, beginning to accumulate in certain areas and finally condensing in glowing sparks on the map. There appeared to be six, although several were superimposed very near each other.

“I actually used muggle map data for the basis of the maps.” Hermione explained in her lecturing tone, “Devising a spell to transfer from computer to parchment was complicated, as magic tends to destroy electronics. Luckily, a compact disk can contain the information while being electronically inert. We can zoom in on points of interest by tapping the surface with a wand while holding the intent to gain greater detail in mind.”

Focusing on several superimposed dots in Northern Scotland, she tapped her wand. The Hogwarts’ grounds were revealed. Another tap zoomed in to a duplicate of the Marauder’s Map. One dot was in the Room of Requirement, a space she had added to the map once she’d become familiar with it, the other was in the Headmaster’s office.

“Confirming that we calibrated off the fragment in Harry, we have located Harry. The other appears to be in the Room of Requirement. I suggest we search it.” Dumbledore said.

She picked another superimposed dot and tapped, zooming until the map refused to proceed further. “Interesting, an unplottable location, but we have the general vicinity of Wiltshire, England.”

“Malfoy Manor is in that area.” Dumbledore stated.

She tapped another set of superimposed dots in London and eventually located it within Gringott’s in Diagon Alley.

“Interesting.” Hermione said, “Any ideas for getting that one?”

Another tap and they zoomed in to Grimmauld place.

“Oooh. This one would be unplottable, except we have permissions for the wards and are aware of the secret, circumventing the fidelius. How is there a Horcrux within Grimmauld Place?”

Finally, tapping on a lone dot in Northern England, they found it on the outskirts of Little Hangleton.

“I believe this is showing us the location of the Gaunt house, Tom Riddle’s mother’s family. It is near Riddle Manor. You have both been nearby when you were in the Graveyard. Through other information, I had come to suspect this as a likely location.” Dumbledore explained, “Your map is truly an ingenious creation, Miss Granger. To tie a scrying spell for soul fragments similar to the one in Harry’s head and thus available for our inspection, then merge it with the truly creative talents of the Marauders and their map. This is truly Mastery level work.”

“Thank you.” Hermione replied, “I’m glad you think so. You wouldn’t mind saying something to that effect to Professor McGonagall? I do plan to use this as work outside of my field to count towards my Mastery if I don’t pursue a Mastery in Charms as well.”

Dumbledore chuckled at that.

“We need to discuss how we act on this information.” Harry said, “Will Voldemort be aware if we approach any of these and if we destroy them?”

“I think not.” Dumbledore said, “You destroyed the one in the Diary and there is no evidence he was alerted. I expect that Lucius has informed him since then, but I doubt he knows we have discovered the nature of the item or I suspect he would have gathered his Horcrux and better protected them.”

“Nevertheless, I think we should try to gather all those outside of his direct control. Which would be all but these two, I would think.” Harry said pointing at the two near Wiltshire, “Destroy them all at once, leaving at worst two to destroy once he is aware of his vulnerability.”

“I think your idea has merit and is the most conservative option. I will contact the Goblins and discuss the possibility there may be a very dark object within their bank. Using another application of your scrying spells calibrated to the soul fragment, I believe we can determine exactly where it is. I think they will be willing to allow us to take it if it is revealed as dark magic, as that is something they have little tolerance for. You may contact Sirius and discover what is hidden in his house. I will go the Gaunt house and retrieve the object there. If you will, please see if you can locate the object within the Room of Requirement. No, let us all go now; we will have that one at least.”

Looking at the Marauder’s Map, they checked the corridor outside the Room of Requirement was empty. Then Harry walked in front of the blank wall three times while focusing as intently as he could on needing a room where he could find the Horcrux. A door appeared. Professor Dumbledore opened it and they walked into a cavernous room that seemed to hold the accumulated detritus of centuries. They walked carefully inside.

“Point me.” Hermione said, holding her wand in her hand. It initially vacillated back and forth between pointing at Harry and then elsewhere in the room. Hermione blushed and altered her spell slightly to exclude the soul fragment within Harry. Then, her wand spun to point down a row of junk. They proceeded down the row, looking around carefully. Hermione used the charm several more times until they discovered it pointed unerringly at a bust with a discolored old tiara perched on top of it, with an aura mixed of pure blue and dark, dark black. Unlike the fragment within Harry, the colors were intermixed, the black swirling through the blue.

“How amazing.” Albus said, “It appears to be Rowena Ravenclaw’s Diadem. It has been thought lost since her death.”

Dumbledore enlarged a steel box, heavily engraved with runes all over the surface. With a gesture, he sent the diadem into the box and sealed it. “I will store it in a small vault in my office until time to destroy them all together.”

Hermione tucked herself up against Harry’s side. He pulled her against him. They were striking against Voldemort, even if it didn’t feel like a big step.

When they left Dumbledore’s side, they hurried to Harry’s room. Grabbing the mirror, they went down to the common room.

“Sirius Black.” Harry spoke clearly to the mirror. Several minutes passed before Sirius’ face appeared in the mirror.

“Harry?” Sirius asked, concernedly, wrapping his robe closer around him, “Is something wrong?”

“Maybe, Padfoot.” Harry said, “Wrong and right at the same time. Do you mind if we come there?”

“Not at all, pup.” Padfoot said, “Come on through.”

Harry took a handful of floo powder he’d gotten from Dumbledore’s office and threw it in to the fireplace. “Number 4 Grimmauld Place.” He stepped through the green flames.

He didn’t realize it, but he stepped through as steadily as he could be. Hermione stepped out after him.

“Ok, what’s up, pup?” Sirius asked.

“Have you ever heard of a horcrux?” Harry asked.

Sirius looked ill. “I have, but only because I’m a Black and a former auror, so I may be one of the best read wizards when it comes to Dark Arts in the country. Even then, I don’t know much.”

“Well, that’s how Riddle stayed alive.” Harry said, “He made six of them after splitting his soul into seven fragments. Hermione figured out how to locate them. One of them seems to be in this house.”

“In this house?” Sirius gaped, “Are you sure? It’s full of cursed items, but I wouldn’t think a horcrux would be amongst them.”

“We’re sure.” Hermione said, “My spell showed it quite clearly. I didn’t map the inside of the house, not thinking I would need it, so it doesn’t show more closely where it is, but it’s within the house. I have a spell I can use to locate it.”

“If it’s in this house, Kreacher can find it.” Sirius said, “One of the house elves’ powers is to know exactly where everything in their house is. Wizards are terrible about losing things. Kreacher!”

A good house elf would have appeared the minute his name was spoken, knowing his master wanted him. Kreacher was not a good house elf and only popped in after several calls.

“Master wants Kreacher?” the pitiful wrinkled elf said, “He has halfbloods and mudbloods in my Mistress’ home, maybe he wants Kreacher to get rid of them?”

“No, Kreacher.” Sirius said, “I’m looking for an object, something Voldemort would have had. Bring me Voldemort’s horcrux.”

Kreacher’s eyes grew wide and he mumbled as if to himself, “Not the locket! Master Regulus gave the locket to me to destroy, I can’t lose it. I must follow his orders. Not the locket…”

“It’s a locket?” Sirius asked commandingly, “Bring it to me!”

Kreacher whined and tried to resist, but his house elf bond was forcing him and he screeched in pain.

“Bring it to me!” Sirius thundered.

“You’re hurting him!” Hermione cried, “You said Regulus told you to destroy it? Who is Regulus? Bring it to us and we’ll help, we want to destroy it too.”

“The mudblood dares speaks to me?” Kreacher whined, even his usually understandable grammar slipping in his distress, “But she says they is destroying it like Master Regulus commanded me. I would obey his order if they destroyed it, but what if they wants it for themselves? I don’t know what to do!”

“Bring it to me!” Sirius said, “We will destroy it and you may have what is left if my brother gave it to you.”

Kreacher looked at Sirius and sensing the truth disappeared, only to reappear with a silver locket with a serpentine S picked out in green stones. He hesitated, but handed it to Sirius.

Harry and Hermione, looking at the locket through auramancy, saw an evil greenish aura mixed with the evil blackness of Voldemort’s horcrux. It was nothing like the clear emerald light of Harry’s aura, but ugly and evil even before Voldemort’s desecration.

“Thank you, Sirius.” Harry said.

“We’ll destroy it and then bring back whatever is left, if anything.” Hermione said.

“Kreacher.” Sirius said loudly, “You are to communicate this to no other than the three of us and not even to us if any other is in the room. If you do, you could keep us from destroying the locket. Do you understand my command?”

“Kreacher understands.” The poor elf said, “I would not endanger my mission to destroy the locket. It was the last order Master Regulus gave. If you help me, I will finally have performed my duty.”

Harry and Hermione called through the floo to Dumbledore’s office. The Headmaster answered and they told him they’d found something, although not what, not trusting the security of the floo. He beckoned them through.

“Headmaster’s office, Hogwarts.” Harry said and stepped through, Hermione right behind.

Once through, they showed Albus the locket, which he placed in a separate warded box, locking both away in a small vault in his office.

“You have done well, today.” Albus said, “To think, before we had only ever found one and now we have one destroyed and two in our grasp. There is hope. Goodnight.”

The couple left the Headmaster’s office and walked towards the Gryffindor common room. Hermione kept pulling Harry along when he would have continued towards the portrait.

“Where are we going?” he asked, confused.

“Room of Requirement.” She said, “I won’t be able to sleep for awhile.” She looked away and blushed, “Unless you help me.”

They walked hand in hand to the seventh floor corridor, Marauder’s map in hand to clear the way. Creating the door with their need, they opened it up to a single version of the Gryffindor dorms. As soon as the door closed, Hermione pushed Harry against it and kissed him desperately. They kissed greedily, losing all track of time, until Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and pushed it under her uniform skirt. She was wearing nothing underneath and he felt her moist sex. He pushed a finger into her immediately, feeling how wet she already was and knowing from her actions that she needed this for some reason. She pushed back against his hand, thrusting her hips into his palm as he continued to kiss her.

“That’s it, Harry.” Hermione gasped, “Rough, quick, I need it.”

“Then come here.” He said, picking her up. She wrapped her legs around him and he carried her to the bed. The bed seemed to lower as he reached it, sensing what he wanted. It was soon exactly the right height. So as he tossed her onto it, with her legs still dangling over the edge, and sank to his knees, his face was at the perfect level to press right into her wetness. He swung her knees over his shoulders and began to lick her from back to front, paying special attention to her hard nub. Pressing one finger into her, being careful not to break her hymen, he began to stroke the front wall of her vagina wall licking her furiously. She pushed against his shoulders with her legs and wrapped her hands in his hair. He pushed his magic roughly across the barrier, knowing it would take her over the edge and it did, as she yelled out her pleasure.

“Oh, Harry!”

He continued to bring her to orgasm after orgasm until his face was wet with her juices and she was too tired to even move much. Harry stood and again, the bed was the perfect height, right at hip level. He pressed his cock against the slick folds of her wet cunt. He felt her tense and knew she was wondering whether he’d lost control or become impatient. He barely let the tip slide into her, carefully controlling his depth and angle, pushing forward enough to push his head out of her and over her clit. He kept up that motion, letting the tip just nudge the outside before sliding over her clitoris, over and over.

“Oh, Merlin, Harry, I didn’t think I could come again, but I’m almost there.”

Harry could feel her pleasure washing over him through the bond and he let it all through, letting it synchronize their pleasure. As she fell over the edge into the most powerful orgasm of the night, he felt himself spraying over her already wet cunt, into her, over her, dripping down her thighs and pooling on her belly. He collapsed on top of her after being sure he wouldn’t slide in.

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione said softly, “I hope they brewed that potion well this month.”

He looked up at her face and saw the corner of her mouth quirk upwards.

“It’s worked every other time.” He said.

“Yep, but I bet it gets a workout this time. Not every potion has to overcome the magic of Harry Potter.” Hermione teased, “That was as close as we could come to the real thing, wasn’t it?”

“I think it was.” Harry said, “When are we setting the date? I want that every night.”

“This Spring?” Hermione asked, “Beltane is a magically powerful date and has the right symbolism.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry said, “Although if Yule worked…”

“Beltane it is.” Hermione whispered, “My mother will want more time than Yule…”

They fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, and only woke in time to clean up and barely make breakfast.

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5 November

Tuesday was becoming one of the two highlights of Harry’s week. Tuesday was for improving himself as a duelist. Although he snatched every second of every other day he could, Tuesday was the dedicated day. Wednesday was for Dumbledore’s Army. Harry never called it Potter’s Army, not even in his subconscious, but his heart had accepted ownership and cherished the time he had teaching. Dueling and Quidditch were his talents, but teaching was his calling, even if he hadn’t figured that out, yet.

Walking into the dueling classroom, hand in hand, Harry and Hermione saw only two people.

“Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape.” Harry said, “Good evening.”

“Good evening, Mister Potter!” Filius said, “Miss Granger.”

“Potter, Granger.” Snape said with the tiniest of acknowledgements.

“You may have guessed that today we’ll be working on legilimency and occlumency in dueling.” Flitwick said, “It’s a vital part of dueling, because if neglected, it will ensure you never proceed past the mid-tier of duelists. No matter how fast you are, if your opponent can know your next move, you won’t land a single spell. Every competitive duelist is an occlumens and legilimens. That doesn’t mean all of them are any good, but they’re all at least acquainted with the arts. Occlumency is more important than legilimency. You can survive not knowing ahead of time what your enemy intends for you, but you can’t survive your enemy knowing what you intend. I will turn the lesson over to Professor Snape.”

“You have managed to come through my training to this point with some understanding of the subtle arts of occlumency and legilimency.” Snape said, “Enough that I think you have a basis, no matter how scant or shoddy, for applying these skills to the duel. Potter, protect your mind!”

Snape struck, sending a spike of mental power at Harry. Harry calmly sank to his center and watched as the attack crashed through his falsely thin superficial wards, before striking his subtle wards and dispersing. The subtle wards groaned under the onslaught.

“Satisfactory.” Snape hissed. “Remember that the Dark Lord is more powerful than I. Miss Granger, empty your mind!”

Snape struck, getting no further against Hermione. He grunted his contentment.

“Remember, legilimency is useless if it isn’t at a completely wandless, non-verbal level. You may as well not try if you have to say the incantation. You’ll be much too slow to accomplish anything other than opening yourself to counter-attack.” Snape lectured, “Your occlumency is most important. Do not sacrifice your defense for offense. It’s a losing trade.”

“Filius, we are ready.” Snape said, walking briskly to the opposite starting point of the dueling strip.

Harry took his place, reinforcing his subtle wards, while sinking his conscious mind deeper into his center and allowing his subconscious to take control. The Machine came to the forefront more and more easily the more Harry summoned it. It sometimes scared Harry, remembering how he’d struck Ron when they’d fought on Black Isle and knowing that had been the Machine. The Machine had no mercy, no trepidation. It worked and succeeded or failed. There was nothing else.

“Bow, salute, and begin.” Flitwick said, swishing his wand down between the two duelists and stepping back.

Harry thought to snap out a quick stunning spell, but he put his focus into his occlumentic shields as he felt the sensation of an incredibly powerful mental attack slam through the false outer shell before breaking through the subtle shield. Harry threw his power into his main barriers, keeping only enough attention outwards to monitor his body and protect it in case Snape attacked physically.

Snape’s mental avatar was himself, only more so. Taller, leaner, even more batlike. The palpable sense of menace around the potion master in mind space was terrifying. He looked around a moor, lonely, empty. Ahead of him was a giant tower, so black as to be a hole in reality.

Snape strode towards it, initially splashing through the muck of the moor, but quickly learning how to walk above the surface. He smiled evilly as he got closer. He hadn’t taught Potter everything and he would enjoy breaking the boy’s wards on the first attempt.

From behind a thick tuft, a grey form arched his back, growling low in his throat. Snape turned towards the threat, smiling. Potter had learned how to create active defenses! Maybe this wouldn’t be so elementary as he’d assumed.

His avatar never noticed the female of the pack slink silently out of her cover until she had fangs buried in his hamstring. The dank water closed over his head as he fell, his floating ended by these defenders as they tore into his avatar. His physical eyes opened wide as a stunning spell slammed into the forehead between them.

“Get out of my mind!” Harry growled.

“He’s unconscious, Harry.” Hermione said, “He can’t hear you.”

“Bloody bastard.” Harry said, breathing heavily.

“Mister Potter!” Flitwick scolded, “Professor Snape is taking his evening time to work with you. Please show your appreciation properly.”

“Oh, I thought I had.” Harry said under his breath as Flitwick cast enervate.

“Miss Granger, I am going to assume your defenses are the same as Mr. Potter’s?” Snape said, rising slowly to his feet, “I will continue to test him, otherwise you will each be fresher by half than you should be. I will test you at a later time, so do not worry, you will have your turn.”

Harry and Snape each took their places, bowed, saluted, and began the fight.

This time, Snape’s avatar couldn’t get out of the dank marsh. He tried every trick to rise up out of the stinking water, but nothing worked. He crept forward slowly; water soaking through his boots beneath the soggy hems of his robes. Howling rolled over the moor from the distance, but didn’t sound like it was coming closer. Snape continued forward, seeing a strange geographic dilation as the tower seemed to continually get further away. He tried every one of his many tricks to stop this effect, to snap the tower back to him, but was unable. While it felt like hours before he reached the tower, he knew that in the mindscape, it was much shorter. When he reached the gate, it was open.

‘Strange’ Snape thought, becoming even more cautious, ‘He’s naïve and has no natural talent for occlumency, but I’m sure the boy wouldn’t leave his defenses open to me. Perhaps it is some sort of rudimentary trap.’

He proceeded forward slowly, mentally casting about for more defenders. There was nothing, the distant howling the only suggestion of a defense. No guards roamed the walls or guarded the gates. What was Potter thinking?

Snape reached a heavy metal doorway. It appeared to be some exotic metal, likely almost indestructible, but no mental barrier could be stronger than the mind that formed it. His caustic potion would melt through the door and allow him into Harry’s defenses.

As he approached the door to pour the vial on the handle and lock, it swung open. Snape looked up into eyes of emerald green in a face framed by auburn hair. He gasped and involuntarily took a step forward.

“Lily?”

Immediately, he felt himself slammed out of Harry’s mind and launched backwards by a sheer wave of force. He landed, arms and legs akimbo, like a bat that failed to notice a glass window and flew into it at full speed. He didn’t stay down, rising to his feet enraged.

“Potter, don’t you dare…”

“No, Professor, don’t you dare.” Potter said icily, “If you’re to test me, then test me. I won’t hold back. Dumbledore told me I was holding back as it was. You know if I’m to win, I must break that habit. Now attack me, we don’t have all night.”

“With pleasure.” Snape hissed.

They no longer even saluted before Snape’s mind slammed into Harry’s defenses. The outer defenses fell predictably, their very weakness essential to the lie they were telling Voldemort, that Harry had no effective barriers. The subtle wall stood longer, having gained strength during these duels, Harry channeling his now substantial mental strength into them. However, Snape was a master legilimens. Perhaps he did not live up to Dumbledore’s standard and he was perhaps without the ruthless power that had seen Riddle rip the minds of many defenders of the light during the first war, but he was infinitely sneaky and thus effective nonetheless. He penetrated the moor, avoiding the wolves with thoughts that sent fog to hide him, foul smells to cloak him. He infiltrated the outer defenses of the castle, reaching the door. Without waiting for it to open, he hit it with a hurled vial of his most corrosive potion, the visualization of his mental attack making short work of Harry’s carefully constructed defense. He was within the inner defenses!

Even within the defenses, it was clear Harry had constructed redundant security. The inside of the tower was broken up into rooms with stout doors. A narrow spiral staircase led upward with barred grates blocking upward progress regularly. Snape knew Harry’s most treasured memories would be at the top, with his control centers occupying the most secure location. He glided up the stairs, his cloak billowing behind him in full intimidation mode, his dark eyes flashing as he drove to the center of his student’s defenses.

He reached the top of the stairs. Bursting through a thick door, he found shelves upon shelves of leather bound books, their quality likely indicating their importance to their owner. Snape pulled one off the shelf. It was not at random, he had the feeling this one was important. Opening the book, he was instantly deep in a memory. Strangely, it was the memory of him being dangled upside down by James Potter. He felt his rage rise and effortlessly suppressed it, his status as a master occlumens allowing him to drive even that primal emotion down.

‘I didn’t realize Potter had even seen this memory, let alone that it would be so important to him.’ Snape thought, ‘It does reveal what a git his father was, perhaps he truly didn’t realize.’

Snape opened another memory and it was him with Lily before Hogwarts. ‘Wait, all of Potter’s most important memories can’t be of me. They all have his parents in them, but…’

He tore book after book off the shelf, realizing they were all his memories. ‘What is this?!’ he howled.

Behind him, a black haired boy removed a silvery cloak, drifting into view.

‘They’re not my memories, Professor.’ He said flatly, ‘They’re yours.’

The tower shimmered for a moment, before resolving into a replica of the Hogwarts Dungeon. Snape had his hand in a potion’s cabinet, with a vial in his hand, the memory a silver thread twisting inside. This was the representation of his mind, his memories, and through the last door were his control centers.

“No!!” Snape howled, before his scream cut off, not by spell, but by simple thought as Harry exerted control. He held it for the briefest moment, before releasing it.

Snape came off his knees like a shot, his wand leveling and a stream of dark curses flowing off the end. Harry dodged or shielded all of them, his wand moving like lightning as he sent them all away from himself, away from Snape, away from Hermione. Reality was warped where some hit the castle, the semi-sentient being groaning in pain before shimmering shields snapped into place to protect the walls and the students from some of the darkest of dark arts.

“Professor.” Harry said, continuing to defend himself.

Violet fire arced from Snape’s wand, barely snapping into existence before a wave of pure blackness rolled off behind it, gibbering madness shooting towards Potter before being casually deflected into the shields around the ceiling. Snape was a master of the dark arts, better at the subject that was even more of a passion for him than potions.

Flitwick’s eyes were wide. He had dueled Severus frequently. He, Albus, and Severus were very active duelists and they only had themselves to practice against usually, so they took any opportunity. It was readily apparent that Severus had been holding back. He could have given Flitwick a run for his money when he was an active duelist. His technique was excellent, but his choice of spells was truly horrific. He would likely have won on the circuit if he weren’t thrown in Azkaban first.

Harry was masterful, blocking, dodging, defending as if he knew exactly what Snape were going to do before he did it. It was only that eventual realization that stopped the Professor.

“After all I’ve done, you mock me?!” he said, stopping his attacks to reassert his absolute control over his own mind. Harry’s legilimency was nothing compared to the force of Severus’ occlumency.

“Mock you, Professor?” Harry asked, his voice full of sincerity, “Mastering what you taught me to the utmost of my ability is mocking you? Is that really what you think?”

Harry lowered his own mental shields to Snape, letting his teacher see the truth of what he said.

“I managed to deflect your attack back at you and rode your own attack into your mind. I hid and merely used my avatar to confund you, so you saw my defenses while you penetrated your own with ease, as they recognized their master.” Harry continued, “I am not proud of what I saw and now I understand why you hated me for so long, but I never intended to mock you.”

Severus remained focused on Harry, using his legilimency to read him deeply, reading the truth of his words and exploring everything Harry had seen while in his mind. Eventually, he withdrew.

“Very well, Potter.” Snape said, “Five points to Gryffindor for finally listening to something I taught.”

With that, Severus turned and swept from the room without another word.

Harry sank to the ground, his legs losing their strength as he realized he’d survived.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

6 Nov

Hermione was frantically writing in her day planner.

“I think it will work. Barely.” She said, looking up at Harry.

“If we can do it, I think it will add a lot to the group.” Harry said.

“It’s going to be difficult.” Hermione said, “Both from a time standpoint and from a human nature standpoint. If you rank people, you’re going to make them mad.”

“True.” Harry said, “But the whole school already thinks I’m a nutter. How much more damage can I cause?”

“Harry!”

“As far as the time aspect goes, what if we add a little time at the end, make it voluntary, and only people who want to participate in the ranking part of the group stay? The others can go or can keep working on whatever we focused on that day, or whatever they want.” Harry mused.

“Why bother planning it all out?” Hermione asked sarcastically, “You’re just going to wing it anyway, aren’t you?”

“Good point.” Harry said, “Hey, Ron! Come here. I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”

“Sure, Mate, what’s up?”

“I have something I want to try…” Harry said.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

The Golden Trio walked to the Room of Requirement together. They’d cleared the way with the Marauder’s Map. Umbridge and her Inquistorial squad were getting more and more aggressive in trying to find where they practiced, all while they avoided anything to do with Harry Potter. He couldn’t quite understand how they could do both, because what did they think would happen when they caught him? He dismissed it in his mind. He’d decided long ago that their behavior where he was concerned made about as much sense as Luna’s concept of zoology.

Inside the room of requirement, they found Neville already practicing with Ginny while Luna was reading a book by the sidelines. Neville got distracted as the door opened and Ginny hit him with stunning spell. Harry managed to catch Neville with a wandless levitation spell just before he would have hit the floor face first.

“Good one, Gin.” Harry said, rotating Neville until his back was against the floor before waking him.

“How does he do that without a wand?” Ginny mouthed to Ron, who shrugged and mouthed back a single word, “Harry.”

“Ok there, Nev?” Harry asked.

“Brilliant, Harry.” Neville said, standing and brushing his robes off.

“Good.” Harry said with a grin, “I’ve got a plan for how to make the DA even better, but it’s going to take a lot of work and might piss some people off.”

“You’ve never hesitated to do that before, Harry.” Luna said dreamily, looking up from the book she was reading upside down.

Harry thought about that and finally decided she was right.

“My idea is to have a dueling portion to the DA. We’ll have a limited number of duels each session and they’ll be by challenge only. I’ve tried to rate each member of the DA into five categories. To move up, you have to challenge someone above you. If you win, you move up one level and they move down one level. Due to time constraints, we’ll only allow each person a certain number of challenges. Each person can only challenge another member once each term. The results won’t have anything to do with who my assistants are and being my assistants won’t have anything to do with your ranking – except that if I didn’t think you were the best, I wouldn’t have picked you.” Harry said, pacing in his excitement.

“That’s a great idea, Harry!” Neville said.

Hermione looked on that comment as a real indicator for how far Neville had come. Before, he probably would have said something about how he was guaranteed to be in the lowest tier, but now he was confident enough to know he wouldn’t be and competitive enough to look forward to the challenge.

“Thank, Neville.” Harry said, “I’m glad you like the idea, because being assistants is probably going to open you up to a lot of challenges. You’ll also be challenged because you’re highly ranked, so beating you will help almost anyone move up.”

“Have you already ranked everyone?” Ron asked with some trepidation. He’d already heard the idea, but he hadn’t thought he might already have been ranked.

“No, Ron.” Harry said, “I thought about it, but Hermione pointed out that was the part that was going to cause the most heartache. So instead I decided to do a tournament on the first day today. We’ll have a simple dueling tournament, single elimination, whichever round you’re eliminated is your initial ranking. It will end up creating more 1’s than 2’s, more 2’s than 3’s… so there’s more room at the bottom and more motivation to move up!”

“30 members right now, so the first round 15 will be eliminated, leaving 15 to move forward. Harry gets a bye, so 8 will move forward to the third round. 4 move forward to the fourth round. 2 move forward to the fifth round, ending our tournament, because we want five ranks.”

“And making sure you and Harry don’t have to actually fight.” Luna observed over the top of her book.

Hermione had the grace to blush. “We thought we’d set a rule that no dating couple have to fight each other.”

“That’s good then.” Luna said, returning to her reading.

“We’ll just start out alphabetically by last name.” Hermione said, “Only changing it up to ensure no siblings or dating couples have to duel for the first round.”

She pulled out a carefully inked bracket with the first round already filled in.

“I’ve declared Harry and I both Weasleys by adoption.” Hermione said softly, “I hope you don’t mind, Ron.”

Explaining how they’d run the tournament took a few more minutes. The Room itself cooperated with the plan, marking out clear dueling strips and creating a chalkboard with the brackets already written complete with names for the first round.

They warmed up together for the rest of the hour before the meeting.

“Welcome back to Dumbledore’s Army!” Harry shouted.

“Hi, Harry!” Colin Creevey shouted back.

“Thank, Colin!” Harry replied, laughing, “I’m excited today, because I’ve got something new for you.”

Harry and Hermione explained the new system they’d be starting that day. There seemed to be overall murmurs of acceptance, although a couple members seemed put off by the idea, the most notable being Marietta. She scowled.

“So let’s get started, because there’s a lot to do today!” Harry said, “Everyone split into pairs and work together on the Patronus. We’ll do that for fifteen minutes.”

Everyone split up into pairs and worked very hard. More were achieving the shield forms, but only one student managed a new Patronus. Harry was unsurprised when Cedric produced a badger patronus.

“Wow, Cedric, amazing job!” Harry said, then with a smile he added, “What good memories have you been giving him, Cho?”

Cho looked down and blushed.

“That’s for me to know!” Cedric said laughing, “And you to keep your nose out of, Potter!”

Harry laughed, too. They’d developed a fun rivalry. Cedric was older, but respected Harry after their time together in the Tri-Wizard tournament and on the Quidditch pitch.

Harry blew the whistle, gesturing everyone to gather around him.

“Two new spells today.” Harry said, “We’re going to use dummies for these, but I still want you to split into pairs so you can coach each other. I’m going to teach you the cutting curse and the piercing curse. For both of these, there are as many versions as there have been wizards that wanted to cut something or put holes in something. The big secret is that there isn’t much difference between most of them.”

“The cutting curse or severing charm I’ll teach is cast like this..” Harry said, making a clear, exaggerated slashing motion while clearly enunciating, “Diffindo!”

The dueling dummy fell into two pieces. There were gasps.

“Thanks, guys, but it’s one of the basics.” Harry said, “Pretty simple and fast. Here’s the other one that’s even a bit faster. Foro!” Harry called while jabbing his wand forward in a hard thrust. A neat hole appeared in the dummy’s head.

“That spell is actually somewhat difficult.” Harry said, “It has a short incantation, an easy wand movement, so that leaves your mind to do most of the work to make the effect happen. It is dead useful, though!”

He gave them thirty minutes to practice those two spells against the dummies while he and his five assistants moved around the room helping. Finally he whistled.

“Short water break while I explain the new ranking system and then Hermione tells you where to be for the tournament.” Harry said, “So I want us to get some experience dueling. We’ll do this by initially setting up an artificial ranking system. Don’t get too hung up on it, because it’s going to be really meaningless at first, but after a while it should get more accurate. You’ll be able to challenge one person at each meeting with the caveat that you can only challenge an individual once each term. If you challenge someone above your level and win, you move up and they move down. Now, I say it’s going to start meaningless, because we’re doing the ranks by this tournament and if two really good duelists draw each other first round, one of them is going to be a ‘one’ even though if the pairings had gone differently they coulda been a ‘five’. Don’t worry about it. Just let it motivate you to try to move up!”

“I’ll call your names in order. Each pair move to the strips in order.” Hermione said, “Abbott vs Brown, Bell vs Bones…”

The Room continued to be helpful, setting the duelists names at their positions on the dueling strips.

“Ok, to make this work, every other strip will need to wait.” Harry said, “You will judge the strip next to you, then when they’re finished, they’ll judge for your bout. Remember, we’ve set a practice ward on the room, so lethal spells will not kill, they’ll just knock you out if they would have been lethal or be appropriately debilitating if they would have just taken a limb. Remember, this is a formal duel, so take your places. Bow. No, not like that! Crisply, like you know what you’re doing. Then salute. This is where you can put your individualism into it. Make up your own salute, give it some style!”

Harry dueled Parvati first. He had decided to take it seriously. He’d actually decided he need to always take each duel seriously; otherwise he might get into a bad habit that might bite him in the future. He decreed in the Kingdom of his own mind that the Fantasia duel with Sirius didn’t count. He spent a moment while he walked to his place putting his mind into the right mindset.

Zacharias Smith and Alicia Spinnet took their places as judges for his first match.

“Bow. Salute. Begin!” Zacharias shouted pompously.

Harry flicked his wand three times, sending three non-verbal spells shooting at Parvati. Her wand flew to his hand, she was stunned, and she was wrapped in ropes.

Around him, more than a few jaws dropped at his speed and his non-verbal casting.

“Oh, shit.” Smith muttered, making Harry happy.

Hermione simply stunned Anthony Goldstein before he even had a chance to blink, let alone cast.

Luna stunned Lee Jordan almost as quickly.

Neville was judge for her match, then he faced Angelina Johnson. With a quick combination, he disarmed and petrified her. Showing what a gentleman he was, he caught her with a levitation charm before her petrified body could topple to the floor.

Ron blasted Justin Finch-Fletchley with a reductor, which hit him dead center, indicating a lethal blow by stunning the boy.

Fred Weasley turned Dean Thomas into a canary, identical to the result of the canary cream.

George did the same to Michael Corner a second later.

“Copycat.” Fred said.

“I think you stole the idea from my head, brother.” George replied.

“Did I?” Fred asked.

Ginny faced off against Marietta Edgecombe and tried to look menacing, cracking her knuckles. It was hard for her to look menacing when she was several years younger and couldn’t weigh more than 80 pounds soaking wet. Marietta just sneered at her until the duel started. Ginny sidestepped Marietta’s stunning spell and hit her with a powerful bat bogey hex. Marietta yielded the fight by tradition when she stepped off the strip and started running around the room, trying to escape her own animated snot.

Hermione, realizing the alphabetical pairings had been problematic to keep from pairing all the Weasleys against each other, decided to try all the first of the alphabet winners against the end of the alphabet winners. While she was preparing the pairings for the second round, Harry stood to speak.

“Great job! I saw some really amazing stuff. What I didn’t see enough of was defense. Remember, punch-counterpunch just results in taking a lot of punches. You need to dodge, you need to shield, and unless you can do those things and attack, wait to attack until you have an opening.” Harry said, “Also, remember half of the DA lost this round. So if you’re ashamed to have a ‘1’ rating, don’t be. It just gives motivation to challenge!”

Hermione spoke, “Ok, the pairings have been chosen. Look at the board and head to your strip!”

Hannah Abbot drew Ron. They took their positions, bowed formally, and saluted. Ron looked extraordinarily focused, as if he were playing chess. Ron knew he had something to prove. He was determined not to let that feeling drive him to act like a jealous git anymore, but he had decided letting it motivate him to prove himself wasn’t a bad thing.

Hannah shot a decent stunning spell as her opening attack. Ron had kept Harry’s advice in mind and had held his own attack while being ready to dodge or to cast a shield. He dodged to the side and returned fire with a stunning spell chained with a body bind right behind it. Hannah tried to cast protego, but was too slow and was stunned and petrified.

Katie Bell lined up against Ginny. She was several years older, but had a lot of respect for the younger girl, especially after seeing her bat bogey hex. They bowed, saluted, and the duel began. Ginny, trying to take advantage of her speed, chained together a pattern of stunner, body bind, bludgeoning hex, starting over with that pattern when she finished. Katie dodged the first several, but was clearly surprised when Ginny kept casting. So far none of them had seen a sustained chain of attacks and Katie was growing flustered while she kept trying to dodge. Katie cast a shield, which blocked Ginny’s attacks for a moment, then returned fire.

“Stupefy!” Katie yelled with a large wand flick.

Ginny dodged out of the way, returning her own stunner, which Katie barely dodged. The audience was cheering for this unlikely cat fight. Most had expected the older girl to win handily, but Ginny was rapidly demonstrating why she was one of Harry’s assistants.

“Stupefy!” both girls called out simultaneously, the red bolts of energy colliding between them and ricocheting off. One glanced off safely into the ceiling. The other hit Colin Creevey who toppled silently, caught by other DA members, who laughed when they realized what had happened. Meanwhile the duel continued at full speed.

“Terebro!” Ginny called out, hitting Katie with a bludgeoning hex. The larger girl was hit in the abdomen and had the wind knocked out of her. She struggled to catch her breath, while Ginny stalked towards her. Pointing her wand straight between Katie’s eyes, Ginny looked down on her opponent.

“Yield.”

Katie nodded.

The DA cheered the exciting duel, applauding the younger girl for her surprise victory.

Ginny reached down to help Katie up.

“Good duel.” Ginny said quietly, “Don’t feel bad, I’ve been training with Harry and Mad-Eye Moody all summer.”

Katie gave her a small smile, silently thanking the girl.

George took the dueling strip and rapidly stunned Cho Chang.

“I’ve seen her on the Quidditch pitch.” He told Harry as he walked off afterwards, “I didn’t want to give her a chance.”

Cedric took the strip against Fred Weasley. The boys appeared well matched. Cedric was the more serious of the two, but the Weasley twins were known to excel at magic they actually cared about. The two carefully bowed to one another, saluted respectfully, and began their duel.

“Terebro!” Cedric called, firing a bludgeoning hex at Fred.

“Foro!” Fred shouted, trying for one of the quickest spells.

Both dodged the other’s attack, slashing wands at one another again. Cedric sent a short chain of bludgeoning and stunning spells at Fred. Fred dodged and returned fire with a string of piercing charms, which Cedric dodged.

“Mutatio avis flavus!” Fred called, trying one of his favorites.

“Stupefy!” Cedric called, sticking to short attack spells, which paid off as Fred’s attack took longer to cast. He barely completed his canary spell before being hit with Cedric’s stunner. Cedric sidestepped the canary spell, winning the match.

“Good one, Cedric.” Fred said to the Hufflepuff after he was woken, “I knew not to go for the showy ones, I just couldn’t help it.”

“Yeah, I considered trying to transfigure the couch to attack you, like I did the dragon in the tournament, but decided I couldn’t afford the time. So you weren’t the only one with a similar idea.” Cedric said, a good sportsman as always.

Luna disarmed and stunned Seamus before he could even attack. She was just glad Hermione had tweaked the pairings to keep her from having to face Neville.

Hermione took the strip confidently against Ernie. They bowed to one another, saluted, and the match began.

Hermione flicked her wand and non-verbally summoned a powerful appearing shield, watching as Ernie’s single attack spells bounced off. Ernie cast confidently, but his repertoire was limited to the DA spells they’d already worked on. Hermione carefully watched, ready to dodge if any threatened to break through her shield, but it proved strong enough to block anything Ernie could throw. He grew winded after sending a slow steady stream of attacks at her.

Hermione dropped her shield temporarily while he was breathing heavily. She flicked her wand in a more complicated pattern of tight movements, sending a non-verbal spell without clear effect. Carefully she continued watching Ernie in case he caught his breath and counterattacked.

“Stupefy!” Ernie called.

Hermione casually blocked. Ernie started another spell, but was surprised when a lion leapt on him from behind, springing from where a bookshelf used to be. Growling, it crouched over him.

“Yield?” Hermione asked, grinning.

Ernie could only whimper and nod his head very slowly.

Alicia Spinnet was older and appeared confident as she took her place against Neville Longbottom, long reputed to be a near squib. She had been as surprised as everyone else when Harry had picked him as a teaching assistant. They bowed, saluted, and began the fight.

“Reducto!” Neville called.

“Protego!” Alicia said, with a fairly precise wand movement worthy of a Hogwarts upperclassman.

Everyone was shocked when Neville’s reductor blew through Alicia’s shield like it wasn’t there. The dueling wards protected her from true harm and the spell simply knocked her back ten feet, knocking the wind from her.

“Yield?” Neville asked with a smile. Alicia nodded, eyes wide.

There were only 8 members left and all but George Weasley and Cedric Diggory had spent at least part of the summer on Black Isle training together.

Harry took the strip against Cedric.

“No fair, Potter.” Cedric said teasingly, “You already proved you could beat me last year, now you got a round to rest. What chance do I have?”

“None, Cedric.” Harry said, “Who said life was fair?”

The respect they showed for each other was clear as they gave each other precise bows. Harry gave his crisp salute, his body language already changing as his normal friendly demeanor changed and a cold indifference settled over him.

Neither launched an attack spell immediately. Harry’s wand moved in a very complicated pattern as he cast a series of non-verbal spells without immediate clear effect. Cedric transfigured the cushions into dogs, which he set to attack Harry. Harry, barely looking, flicked his wand at the pack of dogs, turning them against Cedric and enlarging them to five times their initial size.

“Reducto! Reducto!” Cedric called, blowing the dogs into pieces as they ran towards him. He managed to just catch the last giant dog before it reached him. He grinned at Harry and began another spell.

“Before you attack me, you might look behind you.” Harry said.

Cedric glanced behind him and saw a handful of animated suits of armor with halberds leveled at his back.

“Yield?” Harry asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Right, mate.” Cedric nodded, “I yield.”

Harry waved his wand, returning all the transfigured furniture to its original state. The dogs quickly became torn fabric and feathers. With another wave, they were all repaired and returned to their normal places.

George took his place against Hermione. He looked nervous. They bowed and saluted.

They both attacked, George with a chain of standard attack spells. Hermione started with a non-verbal spell with no visual signature. She had to quickly sidestep to avoid George’s attack.

“Squeak!” the yellow rubber-ducky that had been George made a squeaking noise as it hit the floor.

Hermione inclined her head towards the rubber-ducky and gave a small ironic salute.

“Scary.” Ron whispered to Fred, who nodded.

“Ummm… Hermione?” Fred said after a few minutes, “Can you change my brother back? None of my spells seem to work.”

She just looked at him.

“Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely.” She said with an innocent smile. A wand flick and George was back.

“Blimey, I knew I should have yielded before we got started.” George stammered.

Luna took the strip against Ginny. They stared at each other. Both friends for years since they were from the same area and the same age, there was a subtle rivalry brewing between them.

Colored flashes bounced between them almost too fast for the eye to see. Both girls were petite and graceful, Ginny in a more obviously athletic way, Luna in an ethereal way. It was quickly clear that grace was very real as both moved in almost-impossible ways as they dodged and struck. Luna seemed to anticipate what Ginny was going to cast and be ready to counter, while Ginny was just a hair faster. Both advantages seemed to offset and they were perfectly matched.

“Stupefy, foro, terebro, expelliarmus!” Ginny called, whipping her wand around in a continuing movement.

“Reducto, diffindo, foro, stupefy!” Luna called, sending a similar chain at Ginny.

Both girls danced around the colored beams of light streaking towards them.

“Reducto!” Ginny cried.

“Protego maxima!” Luna cast, a bright shield springing up in front of her in the nick of time. Her shield reflected Ginny’s attack directly back at her. Surprised, Ginny was knocked to the ground and slid several feet by the force of her own powerful attack.

“Stupefy!” Luna called, stunning the redhead while she was already trying to stand.

“Whoa.” Neville said, his mouth open.

“Yeah, exactly.” Ron said, “What have we gotten ourselves into? I don’t want to face them.”

The last two remaining, Ron took the dueling strip against Neville. They walked towards each other and shook hands.

“Good luck, Mate.” Ron said.

“You, too, Ron.” Neville replied.

They took their places, bowed, saluted, and began the duel.

Neville knew Ron was a strategic genius. He didn’t want to give him time to think or plan. He also knew his own strengths lie in being fairly magically powerful, something he’d only realized over that summer while using his new wand.

“Reducto, reducto, reducto!” Neville cried, starting a continuous chain of reductor curses, a powerful attack that he hoped played to his strengths.

“Shit.” Ron mumbled, dodging left, right, and trying to roll out of the way. He quickly realized that while Neville wasn’t as fast as Harry or Ginny, his spells were seriously powerful, kicking up rock chips where they impacted around him. “Protego!” he called, to give himself time to recover.

Neville’s spells slammed into Ron’s shield, breaking it in two strikes and hitting him with the third.

“Oof!” Ron called involuntarily as he took a weakened reductor to the ribs, “Stupefy!” he hissed out with the last of his breath.

Neville sidestepped, “Terebro!” firing a bludgeoning curse into the same side.

His breath knocked out of him completely, Ron yielded.

“Good one, mate.” He said once he’d caught his breath.

“You’re not mad?” Neville asked quietly.

“Well, I would have rather won.” Ron admitted, “But I don’t really want to fight Harry, Hermione, or my girlfriend. This may have worked out best for me.”

Hermione quickly posted the next pairings, Harry vs. Neville and herself against Luna. She then took the strip to give Neville a minute to rest before having to fight again.

Harry spoke up, “These are the last two fights. Remember, everyone did a fantastic job. I hope you’ve all learned something about dueling. I’m excited about this part of Dumbledore’s Army. I think it’ll give us something fun to look forward to every meeting. Now for what you’re all waiting for…. Granger vs. Lovegood!”

The two girls stood across from each other. Both in uniform, Hermione’s trimmed in red and with red and gold house tie, Luna’s trimmed in blue, with blue and silver house tie. Hermione’s face was serious where it was framed by her chestnut colored bushy hair. Her expression was cold and detached, much like Harry’s before a duel, unsurprising since they essentially shared each other’s minds. The ethereal blonde stood against her, seemingly unfazed by facing the smartest witch of her age, a title that would likely have been Luna’s if Hermione didn’t own it. Luna’s blue eyes glinted with a much more focused expression than her normal. Both girls clearly wanted to win.

Luna launched a blisteringly fast set of non-verbal attacks. Hermione was impressed by the non-verbal casting, a really advanced feat for the fourth year, but only a side part of her mind even thought about that while her main attention was on the astoundingly complicated wand movement she was making. A black spot appeared immediately in front of her just before the stream of spells hit, swallowing them whole. Luna initially kept up her attack, but seemed to sense something wrong, trying desperately to spin away before the same stream of spells hit her in the back, knocking her unconscious. She cancelled the tunnel spell and both ends disappeared.

She walked up to Luna and woke her.

“You ok, Luna?” Hermione said, leaning down.

“I’m fine. I think I’ll be a bit sore, but that’s ok.” Luna said, “That was an amazing spell, Hermione.”

“Thank you.” Hermione said, “I knew I’d need to bring out my best to beat you.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

Once the two girls moved to the side, Harry and Neville took their places. Harry was so focused he seemed distracted; his eyes distant as he immersed himself deep in his subconscious and let the Machine come fully to the surface. He bowed like an automaton, gave the crisp sweeping slash that was his signature salute, and settled lower into his stance. Neville’s eyes glittered as he focused, wanting to prove himself. Silence settled over the room as the crowd hesitated even to breathe, afraid they’d miss something. The two duelists studied each other, looking for an opening. Nobody noticed whatever twitch set them off, but both began an attack nearly simultaneously.

Neville fired a string of reductors, much as he’d done against Ron, powerful blasting curses screaming through the air at Harry. Harry was faster. He cast something none of them had seen before, a strangely colorless small bolt of light that shot towards Neville. As had happened earlier, Harry’s attack hit Neville’s first reductor, but instead of richocheting off, it seemed to consume the other spell, taking on the reductor’s color and appearing brighter. It absorbed the next reductor and the next, growing brighter and larger with each curse it consumed, before it hit Neville in the chest. The room’s dueling wards flared, working hard to dissipate the excess energy and saving Neville’s life as even with the fail safes he was thrown backwards, sliding along the floor until he stopped against the wall, unconscious. After the sound of the reductor’s impact, the sliding sound of Neville’s robes along the floor, and then the meaty thunk there was again perfect silence for a moment. Harry remained focused, wand trained on Neville, until he seemed to snap out of it and ran to his fallen friend.

“Enervate!” he cast, as he reached him, “Neville, Nev, are you ok?”

“Uuhhhh…” Neville groaned quietly, “Did anyone else see a giant? That had to have been what hit me.”

There were scattered nervous giggles as everyone realized Neville was all right.

“What was that?” Hermione asked quietly, “I would swear I knew almost anything that would be cast in a duel.”

“Errr, that’s because that didn’t exist until right then.” Harry whispered back, “I made my magic create something I wanted to happen. Dumbledore taught me it was possible.”

“You just made that happen?” Hermione asked, dumbfounded, “That wasn’t a spell?”

“Not until now, it wasn’t.” Harry said, “What about you? What was that tunnel spell?”

“That was something I researched, something that’s probably been lost for several centuries. I didn’t just make it up!” Hermione whispered back vehemently.

“Well, I’m not much of a researcher.” Harry replied with a grin. Hermione just huffed back at him, crossing her arms under her breasts.

“Harry.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: My story is coming to have very many duel scenes. This is difficult to write, because JKR’s magic tends to be a bit repetitive. I wonder if that’s why she didn’t end up writing many fight scenes. I’m working hard to avoid that, but I’m not sure how successful I’m being.

I hope you like this chapter. I welcome reviews.

23. Holidays

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. I don’t make money off my writing. Some scenes taken from Order of the Phoenix.

Chapter 23

Holidays

9 Nov

That Friday, after dinner, the trio had decided to go see Hagrid. Luna went with them, since she was rarely apart from Ron these days. The chilly fall air made it clear the seasons had changed.

“Wonder where he went?” Ron said.

“Don’t ask him!” Hermione scolded.

“I probably won’t have to.” Ron shrugged, “He’s not very good at keeping secrets.”

Harry and Luna exchanged a look. It was more fun to watch Ron and Hermione argue now that he had a fellow spectator, Harry thought. His eyes wandered over the grounds, from the chill water of the lake to the autumn foliage of the forbidden forest. Hogwarts was home to him, more than Privett drive ever had been and more than Grimmauld, although Sirius’ home was coming to feel like home to him, even though he hadn’t spent much time there. He glanced at Hermione, with her jumper against the cold, her curly hair tied back in a loose tail, some tendrils always escaping to be blown around her face. Home was wherever Hermione was. She caught his thought and gave him a smile, provoking a return smile from him.

They reached Hagrid’s door and knocked. The half-giant opened the door, looking like he’d been in a fight.

“Harry, Hermione, Ron!” Hagrid said, “Good ter see ya! Luna, you’ve never come visiting with these three before.”

“I never really had friends before.” Luna said, “Now I do and I’ve decided I rather like it.”

“Well that’s good, then.” Hagrid said, “Want some tea?”

“Yes, please.” Hermione answered, ignoring Hagrid’s injuries.

Hagrid brought out some tea with his infamous rock cakes. Ron tried to catch Luna’s eye to warn her about them.

“So how are ya?” Hagrid said, “It seems like forever since I’ve seen ya.”

“It has been awhile.” Harry said, “We missed you at the start of term. I’m surprised the firsties made it to the castle without you. I had to save one from falling in the water.”

“Didja?” Hagrid laughed, “That reminds me of little Dennis Creevey. There’s often one of the little ones that falls in. You’d think they were told to on the train or somethin’. As for why I wasn’t there… well, I was on a mission for Dumbledore. You know how that is.”

“Of course.” Hermione said, “You don’t have to say any more.”

“Well, I wadn’t gonna.” Hagrid said, “I’m not supposed to tell anyone about my trip to talk to the Giants. Errr…I did it again, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Hermione agreed, “That’s ok, though, we won’t tell anyone. Now you can just keep the rest to yourself. We won’t even ask how you got beat up.”

“Good, because I’m not plannin’ to tell yers about my brother Grawp.” Hagrid said.

“Grawp?” Ron asked.

“No, I’m not gonna tell you!” Hagrid said.

“That’s ok,” Harry said, “we don’t need to know, we’re just glad you got back safe.”

“Yeah, me and Grawp got back safe as can be.” Hagrid said, “What about yerselfs?”

“I’ve been busy learning to duel.” Harry said, “Working on that every spare minute I can. I think I’ve gotten pretty good.”

“Yer dad was real good.” Hagrid said, “Really good. He took a lot of joy in it. I think yer mom would have been good, too, but she never seemed to care much for it.”

They continued making conversation and trying to surreptitiously hide the rock cakes they weren’t eating. It was a normal evening at Hagrid’s hut and the trio felt better for making the effort. Nobody could tell what Luna thought, but she seemed to enjoy Hagrid’s company.

They wandered back to the castle.

“Psst, Ron.” Harry whispered on the way back, catching Ron while Hermione and Luna were discussing runes, “Hermione and I are going to spend the night in the Room of Requirement. I don’t think it’ll come up, but if someone notices I’m not there, cover for me, ok?”

“Wait,” Ron said, “you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Why don’t I get to use it?”

“You and Luna?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Ron said, “who else?”

“Oh.” Harry said, “Well, why don’t we both use it? If we make up beds with curtains and use silencing charms, there’s still plenty of privacy. We’ll just tell Neville to cover if anyone notices.”

“Good idea.” Ron said, “Neville better not be using it.”

They walked up to the Gryffindor common room and sat down next to Neville and Gin.

“Hey, Nev.” Ron said, “Wanna play chess?”

“What?” Neville said, “Oh, sure, Ron.”

They were playing while Harry studied Runes with Hermione and Luna. Once Ron saw the other three were deeply absorbed he whispered to Neville.

“Nev, we’re going to spend the night in the DA practice room. If anyone comes looking for us, cover. Ok?”

“Sure, Ron.” Neville said, calmly moving a piece.

Before curfew, they got together and glanced at the Marauder’s Map. The way to the room of requirement was clear. They opened up the portrait and walked the short distance to the tapestry of Barnabas. Hermione thought of a room with two large four poster beds with curtains, a small sitting room, and a loo, all completely inaccessible to others, while she paced. A door appeared and they all slipped inside.

Hermione whispered to Luna, “You know about the power boost if you abstain until the marriage ceremony?”

“Oh, yes.” Luna said, “That’s why I let him take my bum.”

Hermione giggled and eventually Luna dropped her completely serious expression and joined in.

“What are they laughing about?” Ron asked.

“No idea.” Harry shrugged.

Ron pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey.

“I’ve been saving this. I wanted to bring it out after the game last weekend, celebrate my first win, you know? Then the Malfoy thing happened and we didn’t get a chance. I thought we might open it tonight. Celebrate the game, the new DA dueling, life… what do you think?”

“I don’t have anywhere to be.” Harry said, “Hermione?”

She would have never thought about breaking the rules to that extent two years ago and might have hesitated even last year, but now she just shrugged.

“You’re only young once.” She said, “Besides, I remember the hangover cure charm. I just have to be sober enough to cast it.”

“If not, D-O-B-B-Y will bring us some.” Harry said, carefully not thinking of needing him now.

They uncorked the bottle of Ogden’s Finest and passed it around. Everyone laughed as the others took drinks out of the bottle and coughed.

“Smoooth.” Hermione laughed.

“Where did you get it?” Harry asked, several minutes later.

“The twins gave it to me.” Ron replied, “When they found out I’d made the team.”

“The twins gave it to you?” Hermione asked, sitting up straighter, “Shit, Ron, why didn’t you tell us that?”

“Well, we’re all still in our usual forms.” Luna observed, “I feel pretty good.”

Without hesitation, they passed the bottle around again.

The two couples started making out on the couches. Harry thought it was kind of hot to be snogging right next to Ron and Luna. Obviously, Hermione did too, because she was kissing him passionately. He thought he was never going to be able to extinguish his school uniform fetish after seven straight years of reinforcement, especially the last year of rewards. He kissed Hermione’s neck while inching his hand up the side of her thigh, slipping it under her skirt. She let him and he could tell through the bond it made her even hotter. He wondered how much he could get away with. He slid it further up and felt the edge of her cotton knickers. She had decided to wear some tonight. She hadn’t during the DA practice, which could have been a problem if she’d lost. He knew he’d seen enough knickers when girls had been stunned or knocked down during duels. It was a nice side effect of the coed practice. He thought if they kept wearing their skirts to practice after the first dueling session, it would be pretty clear they didn’t mind, because they’d have to be clueless not to have noticed.

“It was motivation not to lose.” She whispered, following his thoughts, “Made it so much better. Why do you think I was so hot afterwards?”

“Dueling by itself doesn’t do that to you?”

“Good point.” She said, smiling against his mouth.

Harry traced the seam of her knickers up and over her thigh. She moaned into his mouth as he reached the front and the knickers got decidedly damp. He gently rubbed circles over the cotton, pushing them against her bare flesh. He continued kissing her deeply. Luna’s moaning voice behind Hermione made him wonder what Ron was doing, but he didn’t wonder long, too absorbed in what he was doing. He slipped his fingers under the seam and felt Hermione’s moisture against his fingers. She pushed her tongue harder against his while she ground against his hand. He loved the feeling of her skin and decided he was tired of working around her panties, so he started to pull them down.

“They’ll see.” She said into his ear.

“So?”

“So.” Hermione insisted, “Are you a wizard or not?”

Harry thought a minute and then smiled to himself. With a thought, he wandlessly vanished her knickers, which were even simpler than a snail.

“I knew you’d figure it out.” Hermione purred, “I love it when you do the advanced magic.”

“Ah, that’s the real reason.” Harry said, “You didn’t mind if they saw, did you?”

“No.” Hermione admitted.

“I’d vanish your bra, too.” Harry whispered, “If you were wearing one.”

She chuckled at that, still grinding against his hand.

“You love that, don’t you?” she whispered.

“I do.”

They both heard Luna’s voice.

“Oh, Ronnie, if you unbutton my shirt, Harry might see.”

Ron growled at that, curiously muffled.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow upward at that.

‘Well, if you want to look, look.’ She said in his head, ‘She wouldn’t have said that if he didn’t get off on the idea, at least a little bit.’

Harry glanced over at Luna. She smiled at him and winked. Ron’s face was buried in her chest as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt. Luna wasn’t heavily endowed, but Ron didn’t seem to care.

“Ron, you’d better stop, he’s looking!” Luna sang out, her eyes locked with Harry’s. He could feel Hermione unbuttoning his trousers below her.

Ron ignored Luna’s warning and pulled her white shirt over her shoulders, baring her breasts, where he continued sucking and licking. Her silver and blue tie was still around her neck, draped over Ron’s shoulder.

‘Who knew Ron would be an exhibitionist?’ Hermione said in Harry’s mind.

‘Are you kidding?’ Harry responded, ‘It’s part of the jealousy thing. He’s jealous, so he wants to show off what he has. I think he gets off on the jealousy thing, too.’

‘Probably.’ Hermione agreed, ‘He probably doesn’t realize we’ve seen it before.’

‘Not that I mind.’ Harry said, ‘They are nice.’

Hermione growled and tried to yank his pants down. He winked at her and with a gesture, was completely naked except for Hermione’s skirt that still covered his pelvis. She growled, even more aroused at his demonstration of more wandless magic.

“Look what you’ve started.” Luna said, matter-of-factly, “Harry’s completely naked.”

“He’s what?” Ron said, pulling his face away from Luna’s breast, “Bloody hell, he is. I guess I’m behind.”

Harry woke up feeling like he’d run hundred miles the night before. He was chafed and had a distant ache in his groin. He was a bit warm, like he’d fallen asleep with the fireplace stoked too high. He soon realized why when he felt Hermione blanketing him from above and Luna tucked into his side. He could see Ron spooned against Luna over her blonde head.

“Guys?” he said quietly, trying to think of what had happened.

“Go back to sleep.” Hermione said.

“I think you might want to wake up.” Harry said, shaking her a bit.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Because we’re not alone.”

Hermione looked up, “Bloody hell. It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

They were all in a single huge four poster bed where the sofas had been the night before. They each remembered the night before perfectly, but it was hard to understand how they’d become such exhibitionists.

“Was it the whiskey?” Harry whispered.

“I don’t think so.” Hermione answered, “We didn’t have that much. I still remember everything perfectly and my head doesn’t hurt. I’ve never had whiskey before, but I imagined it would take more. Hold on, hand me my wand and the whiskey.”

She leaned up on an elbow, holding the sheets to her chest and waved it over the whiskey bottle while murmuring incantations.

“It had an inhibition lowering potion mixed in with the firewhiskey.” She stated flatly, “They work best when mixed with alcohol.”

“I’m going to kill them.” Ron moaned.

“Eh.” Harry said, “I’m not that worried about it. We’ll think of something good to get them. For now, I think we should just tell ‘em we drank it and not let on that anything funny happened at all. That’ll burn them the most.”

“Good idea.” Ron said, “Meanwhile, I’ll come up with something good to get them back. Between my strategy and Hermione’s brains, they’ll be sorry they messed with us.”

Hermione nodded. “Great idea, Ron. Now turn over. I want to put my clothes back on.”

Luna stood up and walked over to where their clothes were, not wearing a stitch. “I’ll get them. I was headed to the loo anyway.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

10 Nov

They spent the day catching up on school work and relaxing. The Black Isle Crew spent some more time in the Room of Requirement dueling, which was becoming as much of an addiction for Harry as chess always had been for Ron and about as much fun for his opponents.

That night, after working on occlumency as a group, with Harry and Hermione using legilimency to help the others build up their barriers, the couples all split up to go to sleep. Harry and Hermione were constantly using their bond now, it was like second nature, so they no longer had to formally practice with it. It was almost fully formed and in constant use, with only one barrier left between them, only one thing they hadn’t yet shared.

Harry had a dream. He could immediately tell it was an attempt to impose a dream from the outside, because it set off alarms as Voldemort pushed through their connection and broke the false barrier. Harry strengthened the subtle barrier while trying to keep his true barriers invisible.

An image of a long hall, seen from a very low level, was sent through. Harry could easily see it through the filter of the subtle barrier, while not feeling the full force of the dream. He sent back feelings of unease similar to those he’d felt at previous dreams. Given that his memories were perfectly organized, he just copied the feeling he’d felt before and fed it back over the link. He continued to watch the image as it got closer and closer to a door, which somehow felt significant. Then he felt the link cut off, knowing Voldemort was done sending for the night.

‘Do you think he could tell there was still a barrier in the way?’ Hermione sent over their link.

‘I didn’t feel it if he did.’ Harry replied.

‘Me, either.’ Hermione said, ‘I guess we won’t know until whatever happens. What did it mean?’

‘I don’t know.’ Harry said.

‘Me, either.’ Hermione replied, ‘Maybe it will get clearer with time.’

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

12 Nov

Harry walked up to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s office stair and it moved out of the way automatically, as it had since he’d been made an apprentice. Harry rode the stairs upward.

“Good evening, Harry!”

“Good evening, Albus.” Harry said, still self-conscious calling the Headmaster by his first name, even in private.

“What I’d like to work on today,” Dumbledore said, “is the ability to control how much of your magic you release into any given spell or magical effect. You have already made some progress in this area, doing it unthinkingly when you needed to, for example pushing more of your magic into your physical abilities under the tutelage of Mr. Ashdowne. I will work with you so it is first a conscious ability and then with constant practice, you will grow proficient enough to do it without thinking.

“First, I want you to enter a deep meditative state, such as you have learned to do with occulomency.”

Harry took a deep breath, like he did before duels, and quickly dropped to his center, already well-practiced at this skill.

“Now I want you to cast a simple lumos spell and hold it. Allow me into your mind and I will help you find your magical core. You will be able to see and feel, although both words are somewhat too limited for what you are actually doing, your magic leaving your core, through your nervous system, through your wand, and into the light. Then you can practice narrowing that channel or widening it. Limiting the amount of magic you allow through or expanding it.”

“Lumos.” Harry said and his wand lit up with its usual light.

Dumbledore silently entered Harry’s mind, Harry allowing him through the shields. Albus pointed out Harry’s core and let him follow the path of the magic from his core to his wand and out into the world. Harry tried to close the channel slightly, but overshot and the light disappeared.

“That is quite all right, my boy.” Albus said, “Cast and try again.”

“Lumos.” Harry said, trying over and over until he could dim the light to almost invisible. Then he tried the opposite, opening the conduit until the light blazed out like a searchlight.

“Very good, Harry.” Dumbledore said, “I want you to do that as often as you can. I want that sensation to become second nature. Now, I want you to practice the same thing with the piercing charm. I have set up a target lane here with strong wards protecting my office, so do not worry you will damage anything. We will start with a piece of parchment. I want you to cast the weakest piercing charm you can. We will repeat until you can dent, but not pierce the parchment.”

Harry already had the general sense from his work with the lumos spell, but the piercing charm was more active and required its own quick learning curve. After several attempts, he managed to hold back all but the minimal amount of magic needed to dent the paper.

“Very good. Now enough to pierce this thin plank of wood.” Albus said.

Harry slowly stepped up his spell until he put a neat hole in the board.

“Good, good.” Albus praised, “Now this thick post.”

Harry was able to quickly increase to be able to put a hole in the post. With his abundant strength, it was harder for him to hold back than it was to increase his output.

“Now, I want you to increase significantly and hit this iron plate.” Dumbledore said with a grin.

Harry duplicated his level of power he’d used with the searchlight and with a ringing sound he put a hole in the plate.

“Good!” Dumbledore said, “Keep working on that skill with all of your spells when you are training. In the dorms, please limit your use to lumos and similar benign spells. Please do not blind anyone! Experiment. Widen the beam of the lumos and narrow it. Change the colors.”

“Thank you, Albus.”

“You are very welcome, Harry. It is a pleasure to work with an eager student.”

Harry hurried to Gryffindor tower to show Hermione what he had learned and see what she had worked on. They usually managed to teach each other something after each separate session.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

13 Nov

Tuesday evening, Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked to the dueling room together. Professor Flitwick met them with Tonks and Remus with him.

“Hello, Harry!” Flitwick said, “Hello, Hermione, hello Ronald.”

“Hi, cub.” Remus said grinning.

“Wotcher, Harry, Hermione!” Tonks said, also smiling. “Who is this?”

“Hey, this is quite the crowd!” Harry said, really happy to see his uncle and his favorite auror. He grabbed Remus in a hug, something Hermione was teaching him to enjoy more and more.

“What, none for me?” Tonks asked, looking put-upon.

“Ok, one for you, too.” Harry said, grabbing the little auror in his arms and swinging her around while she laughed. He set her down carefully. “This is Ron. Ron, Tonks. She’s an auror.”

“Hi, Tonks.” Ron waved.

“Hermione, how have you been?” Remus asked.

“Good, Remus, what about you?” Hermione said, giving him a hug.

“I’ve got my moments.” He said, smiling despite the tired look on his face.

Hermione shared a head nod with Tonks.

“Now that you’ve all made your greetings,” Flitwick said, “I want to get started. We have a lot to work on. Albus told me what he’d worked on with you last night. I assume you taught Miss Granger the trick?”

“Of course.” Harry said.

“I’ve only had the chance to work on it with the lumos spell.” Hermione quickly added.

“That’s fine. We’re going to spend all our drilling time working on it with various attack spells.” Filius explained, “The dummies will pop up either green, yellow, or red. Green get minimal powered attacks, yellow normally powered attacks, red should be hit with maximally powered attacks. Any questions?”

They spent the next hour hitting target dummies with variously powered spells. It was a bit of a shock when Hermione had hit the first red dummy. She unleashed a maximally powered reductor with the full force of her massive core behind it. It was vaporized with only a wisp of smoke rising where it had been.

“Good one, Hermione!” Harry called, before vaporizing his own red dummy.

Maximally powered spells were fun and impressive, making it an enjoyable hour of work, although it was tiring.

“Ok, now I want you to learn to duel multiple opponents.” Flitwick told Harry, “You’ll be facing Remus and Tonks together. I don’t necessarily expect you to win, but I encourage you to do your best.”

Harry nodded and began psyching himself up. He was working very hard to push himself to his utmost. His goal was to win every fight, because only that level of effort would be enough to prepare him for the fight against Voldemort, whenever that was destined to happen.

They lined up and Harry focused as deeply as he ever had, dropping deep into his center. He bowed to his two opponents. They saluted and he began as quickly as he could, knowing only his fastest speed would give him a chance at all. He unleashed two maximal reductors, throwing himself to the side the instant the second left his wand. Several stunners struck where he had been milliseconds before.

Remus shielded, but his shield shattered at the powerful curse and he was instantly knocked out. Tonks chose to dodge instead and was successful, but the shockwave from the two reductors hitting so closely together threw her farther than she’d intended and she skidded along the ground, not having a chance to recover before Harry fired off a chain of stunners, hitting her and ending the fight almost before it began.

Flitwick had a strange look on his face as he woke the two older duelists.

“Should we take a break?” Filius asked.

“If they need it.” Harry said flatly, “I’m ready.”

Harry dueled with Remus and Tonks for two hours, barely eking out victories each time. His demeanor never changed, he didn’t grow more confident because there was no emotion. He was flat so long as the Machine was in charge.

Hermione and Ron watched closely as Harry dueled. Ron took notes in a special shorthand that resembled Quidditch diagrams, noting where each duelist started, where they moved, what spells they cast, how they countered. They planned to coach Harry with anything they picked up, Hermione in the area of spell use and Ron in the area of strategy and tactics, although Harry had a pretty impressive intuitive grasp of tactics, which he had shown over and over throughout their years at Hogwarts.

After the fighting, the three friends left, walking back to Gryffindor tower together. Meanwhile, the adults remained behind to discuss.

“Well, a bit hard on the ego to lose to a fifth year.” Tonks said, “Boy is bloody good!”

“We knew that.” Remus said, “I’m a little worried about him. He wasn’t himself.”

“I understand why you’re worried.” Filius said, “However, I don’t think you should be concerned. He was normal before the duel, wasn’t he? It was only during that he changed?”

Remus thought for a moment and then nodded.

“That’s the same thing I’ve been noticing. He’s been making the transition more and more quickly and completely as we’ve been working together. I think that’s what the muggles would call his ‘game face’. It’s what I call his ‘fight mind’. When his mind is in the right place, his emotions seem really muted. Again, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

“Have you ever seen a boy this good?” Tonks asked, “I know I haven’t seen any aurors at this level, at least none I’ve seen.”

“Boys usually aren’t trained to this degree.” Filius said, “We’ve taken a boy who’s exceptionally gifted with magical talent and physical talent. He’s bonded to the smartest witch we’ve seen here at Hogwarts in decades, a girl who has only been matched by Dumbledore or Tom Riddle. He grew up abused from everything I can piece together, which tends to make children hypervigiliant, a bad thing for them socially, but a very good trait in a duelist. To that we’ve added all the training money can buy. He’s received professional sports level magical physical training with additional magical enhancement by McGonagall and Dumbledore, two of the premier transfigurers in the world. He’s received entry level auror training by the best auror trainer of this generation. He’s receiving dueling training by a former dueling champion with the best opponents I can trust. He’s apprenticed to the most powerful wizard alive who’s decided the boy is like a grandson, so he’ll stop at nothing to teach him what he needs to know. So, no, I’ve never even imagined a boy able to do what this boy does regularly, but I don’t think there’s ever been a boy like Harry. The question is, what else can we do? I’m glad he’s refusing to lose, it means he’s taking it seriously, but I want to push him to the point where he can’t win anymore.”

“Is money really no object?” Remus asked.

“You tell me.” Flitwick said, returning the werewolf’s stare, “Would Sirius give every penny of his fortune to train his Godson?”

“Yeah, stupid question.” Remus said, shaking his head, “Sirius thinks the sun rises and sets on that boy and he’s busy trying to make up for not being there for so many years. He’ll pay what needs to be paid if it will help. I was going to suggest that you go to the current top tier duelists in the circuit and offer them money to practice with Harry. Maybe make up a story and disguise him so it’s not clear who they’re training. He’ll get top quality opponents that way.”

“That’s definitely an idea. If we couch it correctly, we may not even have to pay that much, since top quality duelists are always looking for top quality sparring partners.” Filius said, thinking through it, “Let me discuss it with Albus and we’ll have a plan.”

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The rest of the term passed, with Harry and Hermione continuing to excel in their regular Hogwarts courses, but putting the vast majority of their time into their mastery work and their extracurricular activities. Ron and Hermione once again made a dream team coaching Harry, this time for dueling instead of the Tri-Wizard tournament. Ron was able to analyze Harry’s strengths and see how he tended to win tournaments, quickly crafting strategies to play to his strengths. Hermione expanded Harry’s spell repertoire and recommended additional uses of his visualization magic. Meanwhile Harry focused with a single-minded intensity that he usually reserved for the end of the year crisis that seemed to happen every year at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore continued working with Harry, teaching him more ancient magics and helping him develop proficiency with the visualization magic. Harry turned out to have quite a knack for it, given his instinctive abilities it just fit his style. While he was developing more of an academic, practiced side which he learned from Hermione, at heart he was still an off-the-cuff master of practical magic when the chips were down, traits that meshed well with creating spell effects from pure power and imagination.

Dumbledore’s Army continued to train, Harry growing more and more proficient at teaching with experience. The dueling portion was very popular, giving everybody motivation to improve and keeping them from learning defense in anything but the most practical way, because any impractical learning was quickly weeded out on the dueling strip at the end of meetings. Umbridge’s Inquisitorial Squad were growing more and more aggressive about searching for “rogue student groups”, which really meant they were hunting for Dumbledore’s Army. The Inquisitorial Squad stayed just under Dumbledore’s notice, not doing anything blatant enough to incur his wrath, but getting closer and closer to that line constantly. Harry spent a lot of time with the Marauder’s Map, making sure all the DA members made it back to their dorms after meetings without being caught. The experience was good for the DA, bringing them even closer together and serving as a practical team-building exercise as they learned how to work together against a common foe under stressful conditions. They even began to socialize together, planning an end-of-term party to celebrate the holidays before leaving for home.

Harry continued dueling. Every minute of every day that he wasn’t otherwise occupied with schoolwork, Quidditch, or Hermione, he was seeking out the professors and opponents Flitwick had arranged for him to fight. He fought Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Bill, Severus, Filius alone or in pairs, although he’d never had to face Filius or Snape in a multiple opponent setting. He continued winning, using his extreme speed, reflexes, and powerful magic to beat his opponents. He had reached the point where he could win against any two of his regular opponents. He could battle Filius or Severus to a draw, winning as often as he lost.

He continued to have the strange nightmares, glimpsed at a distance through this insulation of his hidden mental barriers. Each was similar, an image of a long hallway glimpsed from a low perspective, as if he were crawling along the floor. In each dream, he crept closer to the door before the sending ended. Each time he woke, glad he had the mental barriers to insulate him from the dream, because even seen at a remove, they were somehow disturbing.

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Dec 18

The DA Christmas party arrived. They’d summoned the Room of Requirement with a party in mind and the door had opened to a very schizophrenic room, surprisingly perfect for a teenage party. There were several quiet dark corners with comfortable sofas for those who wanted to make out. In the middle was a dance floor with a rotating wizarding disco ball that made interesting lighting effects. One whole side of the room was taken up by couches arranged to facilitate conversation, well-lit unlike the smaller, darker make-out nooks. Nearby was a self-service bar with endless butterbeer, pumpkin juice, and a few bottles of firewhiskey.

“Wow, Harry…” Fred said.

“…you sure know how to throw a party!” George finished, “But we would have thought you might be…”

“…reluctant to try firewhiskey again.” Fred laughed.

Harry kept a straight face and looked the twins in the eye. “Why is that, fellas?”

They looked back at him, confused. He looked at them with the same straight face.

“I sure hope you didn’t try to play a prank that might have affected Hermione.” Harry said, “I sure wouldn’t want to make her mad. She knows more hexes than a whole squad of aurors. Besides, if you somehow managed to embarrass her with a prank…well, trust me, you don’t want that.”

“No, we don’t want that….” George agreed.

“…we’re just going to go over here and see what Hermione’s up to, maybe apologize in case anything might have happened.” Fred finished, edging away from Harry.

Cho walked in with Cedric, looking beautiful in a red silk dress in a vaguely Chinese style. Cedric wore a pair of wool slacks and a simple sweater, but was as handsome as always.

“You guys look great!” Hermione said.

“You, too, Hermione.” Cho said, looking at the younger girl in green velvet dress, chestnut hair cascading over her back in barely controlled curls, “Where’s Harry?”

“He was talking to the twins earlier.” Hermione said, “They seem to be headed over here, oh, there he is!”

Luna was sitting on Ron’s lap, listening contentedly while he described to Seamus in vivid detail exactly how he’d held off the Slytherin chasers to win the first match of the year. She’d heard the same story verbatim at least 20 times, but she enjoyed seeing Ron so confident. She was thinking she might try to pull him out on the dance floor, where Ginny was dancing with Neville, reminding her of the Yule Ball a year ago, when the shy Gryffindor had shown how much he enjoyed dancing.

Zacharias Smith was hitting on Marietta, who seemed to be lapping up the attention.

“Can I get a picture, Hermione?” Colin said, looking at her and the Weasley twins.

“Of course, Colin.” Hermione said, smiling, “Just remember to get one of me and Harry later. Maybe we can put copies of all your pictures up?”

Hermione posed with one of the twins on each side of her. Colin took a picture and then wandered on.

“Where were we, boys?” Hermione asked, “Oh, yeah, you were asking if anything embarrassing had happened to me recently. No, why?”

“We just wanted to be sure…” George said.

“…that no prank intended for our little brother accidentally backfired on anyone else.” Fred finished, “I have the feeling…”

“…pranking you might be hazardous to our health.” George continued, “You and Harry are scary with a wand.”

“Thank you!” Hermione said, dimpling cutely, “No, nothing embarrassing that I can recall. Would you like a cookie?” she offered, holding out a plate she’d been eating from.

“Um, no, I don’t think so.” Both twins said, drifting away.

Hermione subtly smudged out a rune array charcoaled on the floor as they walked off, happily whistling the mission impossible theme song to herself, knowing the twins wouldn’t recognize it even if they heard it.

Terry Boot was chatting with Michael Corner about how he was going to dominate the dueling contests next term. Michael nodded along, waiting for the opportunity to talk about how he too was going to dominate.

Meanwhile, Justin Finch-Fletchley was dancing with Susan Bones, almost as lost in each other as Nev and Gin were.

Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet were talking Quidditch while Lee Jordan listened attentively. Fred and George walked up and the entire group started laughing.

“Forget something, Fred?”

He looked down at himself, “No, why? Was I supposed to bring something?”

The girls all laughed again, while Lee looked away.

The twins looked at each other, confused.

George pulled out his wand and cast some detection charms on his brother, “Revelio!”

“I don’t see anything, brother.” George said.

“I…I… I don’t either!” Angelina said, bracing herself on Katie, who could hardly breathe.

Colin walked up to the group, “Can I take a pict…whoa!”

“Take the picture, Colin!” Alicia said.

“Ok, if you say so.” Colin said, his eyes wide. He snapped a picture of the three girls gathered around a confused looking Fred and George Weasley.

“That’s one for the scrapbook!” Katie finally said, during a pause in her laughing.

The twins drifted away, disgruntled.

“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to play a prank that might have gotten Harry or Hermione.” They grumbled together.

“Hey, Colin!” Harry called. Colin, always one of his biggest fans, hurried over.

“Hi, Harry!” Colin said with a huge smile, “Want me to take a picture of you and Hermione?”

“Yep!” Harry said, grinning. He pulled Hermione even closer to him as she clung to his side, purposefully pulling her velvet dress up enough so a tiny hint of the lace bands of her thigh highs could be seen.

“Harry!” she said, also grinning.

“That’ll be a great one, guys!” Colin said, giving them both a thumbs up.

“Are we late to the party?” a loud grandfatherly voice rang out.

“I heard there might be an illegal dueling club we needed to disband!” said a short man.

“But all I see.” Professor McGonagall added, “Is a student holiday party. Ah, how rumors get started, I’ll never know.”

“Headmaster!” Harry said, hurrying over, “Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick! I’m so pleased you could drop by!”

“We are thrilled to have been invited, my boy.” Dumbledore said, “Looking around, I have to guess that Professor Umbridge’s invitation was misplaced?”

There was general laughter.

“We should have a picture taken!” Hermione said, “All of the DA with Dumbledore!”

They all gathered together and posed for a picture with the Headmaster. Colin set up a tripod and ran to get in the picture. With a blast of smoke, the flash went off.

At the end of the night, after trying desperately to figure out why everyone kept laughing at them, the twins finally approached Hermione.

“Ok, we admit it…” George started.

“…you got us somehow, but we can’t figure out how.” Fred continued.

“Our revealing spells show nothing.” George finished.

“That’s the only thing that shows nothing.” Hermione said, giggling, “We masked the spell heavily to keep you from finding it and removing it. It’s just a little glamour spell that turns your clothing invisible to everyone but you two.”

“Everyone?” they shouted together, eyes wide.

“I danced with Professor McGonagall.” Fred said, looking pale.

“Ok, it excluded you two, everyone over age 20, and anyone under age 12.” Hermione said, grinning, “We used a variant of the magic Headmaster Dumbledore used for the ‘age line’ around the Goblet to do that portion. It was tricky bit of charm work, but given that we knew the Professor’s would be by, I thought it was essential.”

“How do we cancel it?” the twins asked, while holding their hands in front of them.

“If you apologize to me, Harry, Luna, and Ron, it will be cancelled automatically.” Hermione said.

“We’re very sorry, Hermione!” the twins said in unison, before rushing towards Harry, their backs to each other and their hands over their groins. Everyone who noticed they had finally realized laughed at their predicament.

Harry walked over to Hermione and chuckled with her about their prank on the twins.

Luna walked by, looking upward. “Mistletoe.” She said, in her absentminded way, pointing upward and bringing both of their attention to a sprig above the couple as she passed them.

Hermione shrugged, “Wouldn’t want to ignore it. Bad luck, y’know?”

They kissed, a sweet and gentle but passionate kiss. Neither noticed when Colin took another picture as many of the girls in DA sighed at how cute they were together.

The party broke up. Harry organized the DA members into groups by House and dispatched them at intervals while watching the Marauder’s Map. Once everyone was safely back to their common rooms, The Black Isle Crew hurried to the Gryffindor common room, avoiding the random inquisitor patrols.

“They’re getting closer.” Ron noted once they were safe, “Umbitch really wants to catch us, huh?”

“I think she does.” Harry said, “Would you mind continuing to work out some contingencies, Ron?” Harry said, “I keep hoping we can stay a step ahead of her, but she has a lot of resources behind her. I can tell she even makes Dumbledore nervous and that’s saying something.”

“Will do, Harry.” Ron said, “What are you and Hermione doing this Holiday?”

“We’re going to spend part of it with her family, part with Sirius, and we wondered if we might all spend part of it at the Burrow?” Harry said, “I don’t want to impose, but I feel like your mum might miss us if we didn’t show.”

“She would be angry at me if I didn’t insist you come sometime, Mate.” Ron said, “Christmas dinner at the Burrow is always a big deal, you know that.”

Harry gave him a thankful smile. The Weasleys really were becoming a family to him, as were the Grangers, as was Sirius. It was like his family was coming together.

Hermione could feel the warmth that the thought of Christmas with his strangely extended family sparked in Harry and she smiled, too.

“Thanks, Ron.” Hermione said, “Be sure to owl us your mum’s plans after you talk to her. We should all get together somewhere, whether it’s the Burrow or Grimmauld. We’ll talk to my parents and to Sirius and make some plans, ok?”

“Ok, Hermione.” Ron said, smiling at the girl. “Goodnight, then.”

Ron walked up to the boy’s dormitory.

Harry sat with Hermione for a while, initially practicing occlumency vs legilimency against each other, then snogging after they’d determined their multiple layers of shields were in good order.

“Goodnight, ‘Mione.” Harry said, “The party went well, didn’t it?”

“It did, Harry.” Hermione said, “The DA has turned out better than I could have hoped.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Harry said.

“No, you couldn’t.” Hermione said, the corner of her mouth quirking upward, “But we’re a package deal now. You haven’t had to face your challenges alone for the last 4 years and I’m not going to let you start now.”

Harry smiled at that, knowing in his deepest heart it was true. He would never be alone again, because if she died, he would die. He couldn’t help it, but kissed her again, falling back into several minutes of gentle snogging before the parted to go to their beds. It was still a few nights from end of term and parting and they planned to spend some of those nights in each other’s’ bed, but they tried not to make it every night, for fear of being caught.

He watched as Hermione walked up her staircase, then he turned to walk up his. Harry laid his head on his pillow after putting his wand under it and swiftly fell asleep, his occlumency practice having purged any backlog of thoughts that would have kept him awake.

Partway through the night, he felt the same odd sent dream come to him, again at a remove as he viewed it through the protection of his subtle wall. Voldemort pierced the false wall and sent the vision into Harry’s mind. Harry reinforced his main barrier, while allowing just a wisp of his mind out from behind its protection to see the sent vision. Again, his viewpoint changed to an odd, low set position. His body felt different, smooth and powerful, but without the arms and legs he was accustomed to. He moved by pushing his body against the smooth floor, undulating along the hallway. It was dark, but he could see in vibrant colors. The familiar corridor at first appeared to be empty, but he could see a sleeping man, sitting in a chair, seeming to guard the door at the end of the hallway. With his strange senses, he could smell the man’s scent, strangely familiar somehow.

Harry could feel a faint impulse to bite the man, but at such a strong remove he only felt it as an academic knowledge that his host wanted to bite the man. His host mastered the impulse, focusing on some overriding task and began to slither past the chair, but the man stirred. A silvery cloak fell from his legs as he jumped to his feet. He reached for his wand. The man was instantly recognizable to Harry by the shock of thinning red hair. His host rose high from the floor while Harry hurriedly tried to assert some kind of control, but it was much too late. The snake plunged its fangs into the man, biting him once, twice, three times. Arthur yelled in pain, then fell silent, slumping to the floor.

Forcing himself out of the vision, Harry sat upright, fear coursing through him. He yelled in fear.

“Harry!” Ron said, scrabbling at the curtains to his bed.

“Harry!” Hermione said, popping into his bed through House Elf apparition.

Harry breathed deeply, forcing down his fear and raising occlumentic barriers between his fear and his need to act.

“We need to tell the Headmaster!” Harry said, “Your father’s been attacked, Ron. Come on. Neville! Neville! Get Professor McGonagall. Tell her to meet us at the Headmaster’s office.”

Harry grabbed Ron with one hand and Hermione with another, apparating to the landing just outside Dumbledore’s office, before rapping with the Griffin shaped knocker.

“Sir, it’s Harry! I need to speak with you.”

Voices could be heard through the door as if the Headmaster were holding a conference. The door opened by itself. The room was half in darkness, strange silver instruments silent. The portraits appeared to be sleeping, but Harry knew from the lack of others in the room that it must be they who’d been talking. Fawkes was asleep on his perch. Dumbledore sat behind his desk in an gold-embroidered purple dressing gown over a snowy white nightshirt.

“Harry, tell me what happened.” Dumbledore said, swiftly concentrating on the surprise guests.

“I had a vision, sent by Voldemort.” Harry said concisely, “A giant snake was traveling through a dark hallway towards a door. Ron’s dad… Arthur Weasley… was guarding the door. He tried to stop the snake, but the snake bit him several times. He’s injured and needs immediate help.”

Dumbledore took a few seconds to assimilate the information. Ron’s face was white and shocky, just starting to understand what Harry was saying.

“Severus told me about your visions.” Dumbledore murmured, “So his plans to allow you to continue to see them worked.”

“Yes, I was able to see them, but I don’t think Voldemort ever sensed the other barriers. I always felt insulated from the sending, able to see it, but protected.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Everard? Dilys!”

A sallow-faced wizard with black hair and an elderly witch with long silver ringlets opened their eyes from the appearance of deep sleep.

“You were listening?” Dumbledore asked.

“Naturally.” The witch replied. The wizard nodded.

“The man has red hair and glasses.” Dumbledore said, “Everard, raise the alarm. Ensure he is found by the right people. Dilys, watch for him on the other end. Now go!”

Both nodded and disappeared from their frames.

“Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts’ most celebrated Heads.” Dumbledore said, standing and walking to Fawkes, “Both have portraits in other wizarding institutions, making them excellent messengers during emergencies such as this. Have a seat, they may be several minutes.”

Dumbledore waved his wand, conjuring squashy, comfortable chairs. A knock at the door and Professor McGonagall strode in.

“Ah, Minerva.” Dumbledore said, “You heard there was a disturbance?”

“Potter sent Longbottom to me with the message.” Professor McGonagall said, “I sent him back to the Gryffindor dorm. What exactly is happening?”

“Mr. Weasley has been attacked.” Dumbledore said, “I have sent two of the Heads to sound the alert and to bring back intelligence. Once we know, I will need you to bring the other Weasley children.”

“We will need a warning.” Dumbledore said quietly to Fawkes. With a flash of fire, the Phoenix was gone.

“Dumbledore!” Everard said, slightly breathless.

“What news?” Dumbledore asked.

“I yelled until someone came running.” The wizard said, “I said I’d heard something downstairs. They went to check and carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn’t look good. He’s covered in blood.”

“Dilys should have seen him arrive.” Dumbledore said.

Hermione put her hand on Ron’s arm at his convulsive movement.

“Dobby. Winky.” She said quietly. With a pop the two House Elves appeared by her side, “Winky, get Ginny Weasley. Bring her here. Dobby, get Fred and George Weasley, bring them here.” The two elves nodded and disappeared.

“Well thought of, Miss Granger.” Professor McGonagall said quietly, “Albus, what about Molly?”

“That will be a job for Fawkes when he was finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching.” Albus said, “But she may already know through that excellent clock of hers.”

They all waited for the next update. The two elves reappeared with Ginny, Fred, and George, all still in their night clothes.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Ginny said, looking frightened, “Winky said Hermione needed me here right away, but didn’t say why….Fred and George are here, too. What’s going on?”

“I had a vision of your father being attacked.” Harry said briefly, “He’s been found at the ministry, they’re taking him to St. Mungo’s. We’re waiting for an update from one of the heads who has a portrait there.”

Dilys reappeared. “Yes, they’ve taken him to St. Mungo’s. They carried him past my portrait. He looks bad.”

All the children looked terrified, the Weasleys most of all.

“Phineas. Phineas!” Dumbledore said, having to wake the portrait. After several calls, the Slytherin robed Headmaster finally ‘woke’. Harry recognized the man from another portrait at Grimmauld place, his occlumency-enhanced memory instantly placing the face.

“I need you to visit your other portrait.” Dumbledore said, “I’ve got another message.”

“Visit my other portrait?” Phineas said in a weak voice, looking at Harry and giving a fake yawn, “Oh, no, Dumbledore, I am much too tired.”

Roars of “insubordination” and threats of harm from the other portraits quickly motivated the recalcitrant portrait and he was sent with a message for Sirius to prepare for the arrival of the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione, since Grimmauld was much more convenient to the wizarding hospital than Hogwarts or the Burrow.

“How are we going?” Fred asked, looking shaken.

“Floo powder?” George continued.

“No, the floo network is being monitored. It will have to be by portkey.” Dumbledore said, taking an old teakettle from a cabinet, “Portus!” he said, tapping the kettle with his wand, a wave of blue energy soaking into the teapot before it faded into a mundane looking kettle again.

With a flash of fire, a golden feather floated to the floor in the exact center of the office.

“That is Fawkes’ warning.” Dumbledore said, “Umbridge will know you are out of your beds. Minerva, head her off. Tell her any story.”

McGonagall departed on her mission.

“Come here, then.” Dumbledore said, gesturing to the children, “Quickly, before anyone joins us.”

They all touched the kettle and with the hook behind the navel sensation, disappeared.

Harry’s feet hit the ground hard, but he stayed upright. They had arrived in the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Gaslights dimly illuminated the remains of a solitary supper. Sirius hurried towards them in silken dressing robe, red and gold, the vee in the front exposing runic tattoos.

“What’s going on?” he said, stretching out his hand to help Ginny, who hadn’t kept her feet, up. “Phineas Nigellus said Arthur’s been badly injured…”

“Ask Harry.” Fred said.

“Yeah, I want to hear this for myself.” George added.

Harry told the entire story, how he’d noticed sendings from Voldemort, how he and Professor Snape had adjusted his defenses to allow him to see the visions without compromising the safety of his mind, and how tonight he’d seen a giant snake attack Mr. Weasley. He hadn’t known where until Phineas had revealed it had been in the Ministry.

“What was he doing at the Ministry, Sirius?” Harry asked.

“He was on a mission for the Order of the Phoenix.” Sirius said, “We’ve been taking turns guarding the prophecy. Voldemort wants it and Fudge won’t even admit he’s come back, let alone set a proper guard. We’ve been having to guard it behind the Ministry’s back.”

“Is Mum here?” Fred asked.

“She probably doesn’t even know what’s happened yet.” Sirius said, “The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore is alerting Molly now.”

“We’ve got to go to St. Mungo’s!” Ginny said, desperately.

“Hang on.” Sirius said commandingly, “There’s no way you should even know about this, yet. We can’t risk exposure of the Order’s work by showing early knowledge of this incident. Once your mum has been notified, she’ll let us know and then you can go.”

Sirius had trained as an auror when he was younger and had bounced back from his captivity, regaining the presence he’d developed as one of the elite dark wizard hunters. His rebuke quickly cowed the younger Weasleys.

They all made their way to kitchen chairs, sinking into them.

Kreacher quickly produced Butterbeer and simple snacks. The pathetic looking House Elf had seemed to make some of the same transformation that the house and his master had. With the locket removed and it’s foul influence reduced by distance, Kreacher seemed to be more normal.

A burst of fire illuminated the dim kitchen. A scroll of parchment fell with a thud onto the table along with a single Phoenix feather.

“Fawkes!” Sirius said, “That’s not Dumbledore’s handwriting, it must be from your mother.”

He thrust the letter into George’s hand, who ripped it open and read aloud, “Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo’s now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum.”

Sirius recommended they all go to bed and wait on news, but nobody was having that. They moved into the sitting room and flopped onto the more comfortable chairs and couches there. A fireplace provided light and warmth. They kept vigil until almost five in the morning, when Molly arrived. She was extremely pale, but gave a wan smile.

“He’s going to be all right.” Molly said, “He’s sleeping. We can all go see him later. Bill’s sitting with him now, he’s going to take the morning off work.”

Fred fell back into his chair, his hands over his face. George and Ginny went to Molly, quickly wrapped in one of her hugs.

“Breakfast!” Sirius said loudly and joyfully, relieved by the news, “Kreacher!”

The House Elf appeared and began to produce breakfast for the eight witches and wizards.

“I don’t know what would have happened if it hadn’t been for you, Harry.” Molly said with a muffled voice, “They might not have found him until it was too late, but thanks to you he’s alive and Dumbledore was able to think up a cover story to protect his job. Sirius, thank you for letting us gather here and for taking care of my children overnight.”

“It was nothing, Molly.” Sirius said, “I’m pleased to have been able to help in this small way. I hope you’ll feel free to stay until Arthur is out of the hospital.”

“Oh, Sirius, I’m so grateful! They think he’ll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer. Of course, that might mean we’re here for Christmas…”

“The more the merrier!” Sirius said, “This old place has too much room for just me and occasionally Remus. If you’re here, it’ll seem more like a proper holiday. I’m happy to have you stay as long as you need.”

They all napped through the morning and woke to their school chests having arrived with Dobby and Winky. They all dressed in Muggle clothes for the trip to St. Mungo’s. Tonks and Mad-Eye arrived to escort them across London. They took the underground, getting off and walking through the London streets until they arrived at a large red-brick department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd. The displays in the windows were a decade out of date and a sign said, ‘Closed for Refurbishment’. A passing shopper murmured, “It’s never open, that place.”

Tonks walked up to one of the out-of-date displays and seemed to talk to a mannequin. “Wotcher…We’re here to see Arthur Weasley.”

The dummy gestured with a crook of its finger and they all stepped through the plate glass window, arriving in a crowded hospital reception area. They walked along, Harry’s head on a swivel as he absorbed all the new sights. He saw the portrait of Dilys Derwent, who winked at him before disappearing, probably to tell Dumbledore they’d arrived.

They asked at the information desk, then followed the signs to ‘Creature-Induced Injuries’ looking for the ‘Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites’. As they reached the ward, Tonks stopped.

“We’ll wait outside, Molly.” Tonks said, “Arthur won’t want too many visitors at once. It should be family at first.”

Mad-Eye nodded in head in agreement. Harry stopped, planning to stay out with them, but Molly took his arm.

“Don’t be silly, Harry. Arthur wants to thank you.”

There were only three patients. Arthur was at the far end of the ward and Harry was relieved to see he was propped up in bed reading the Daily Prophet.

“Hello!” he called, throwing the paper aside, “Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he’ll drop in on you later.”

“How are you, Arthur?” Molly asked, bending down to kiss his cheek and look anxiously at his face, “You’re still looking a bit peaky.”

“I feel absolutely fine.” Mr. Weasley said, giving Ginny a hug with his good arm, “If they could only take the bandages off, I could go home.”

“Why can’t you take the bandages off, Dad?” George asked.

“Because when they do, I start bleeding like mad.” Arthur said calmly, “Some effect of the snake venom. They say they’ll have an antidote before long, but until then I just have to take a blood replenishing potion every hour.”

“What happened?” Fred asked.

“Well, you already know!” Mr. Weasley said, smiling at Harry, “I’d had a long day at work, dozed off, and a great big snake snuck up on me and bit me.”

“So where were you when it happened?” George asked.

“That’s my business.” Arthur said, softening the reply with a smile at his son.

“That’s enough, boys.” Molly said, “Go wait out in the hall and send Tonks and Moody in. You can come back to say goodbye later.”

They all trooped out, sending the aurors end. Waiting until they were alone, the twins pulled out extendable ears for everyone. They sent the tiny worm-like ends crawling towards the conversation while they huddled together outside. They all heard the few details they didn’t know about Voldemort’s snake trying to sneak in to where the prophecy was kept. Harry had already told them the rest.

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Despite Arthur’s injury, they spent a surprisingly happy Christmas Holiday. Sirius was thrilled to have so much company, having always been naturally an extrovert and having this reinforced by his time in prison. Arthur continued doing well, although his stay was extended while the Healer’s hunted for an anti-venom. Harry and Hermione split their time between Grimmauld place and the Granger house. Hermione spent a lot of her time closeted with her mum in the early stages of planning the Spring wedding. Jane at first thought the notice was so short as to be hopeless, but Hermione assured her that with magic and House Elf help it was all very possible.

Harry took Ron and Hermione to the forbidden forest, picking an appropriately sized evergreen. With a simple diffindo, they cut it and portkeyed back to Grimmauld Place, setting it in the drawing room with Kreacher’s help. The Christmas scent of pine spread through the house, further elevating the holiday mood. Live fairies decorated the boughs, shining their magical light.

Christmas morning dawned. Harry and the Weasleys came downstairs to the smell of coffee or hot chocolate. Dobby had come to Grimmauld with Winky to help Kreacher with Christmas, providing plenty of household help. Harry received a rare first edition book on defense against the dark arts from Hermione, which complemented the set Sirius and Lupin had gotten him. He bought her a necklace with a small Snitch charm, wings beating in time with her heartbeat.

They went to visit Arthur after Christmas lunch. Growing restless, they took a trip looking for the tearoom and bumped into Gilderoy Lockhart on the long-term spell damage ward. It was an odd experience, but led to an even more uncomfortable one as Harry noticed the Longbottom name on two of the beds. As soon as he saw it, he tried to lead the others away, trying to keep Neville’s secret, but just then Ron saw Neville himself.

“Neville!” Ron called out, “Did you see Lockhart is here? Who are you visiting?”

Neville turned purple, seeming to want to be anywhere in the world other than there.

“Friends of yours, Neville, dear?” Augusta Longbottom asked, “Oh, Lord Potter, Miss Granger, we’ve met. And of course I recognize you, Ginny dear. This must be one of your brothers?”

“Ron Weasley, ma’am.” Ron said, looking somewhat confused, “Nev, is that your dad at the end?”

“What’s this?” Mrs. Longbottom asked sharply, “Haven’t you told your friends about your parents, Neville?”

Harry stepped in, “Several of us know, ma’am. We just haven’t spread the information, trying to respect his privacy.”

Hermione and Ginny nodded. Ron, luckily, stayed quiet.

“Good, because it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Augusta said forcefully, “You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn’t give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!”

“I’m not ashamed.” Neville said flatly.

Ron was standing on his tiptoes and craning his head to catch a glimpse of them.

“My son and his wife,” she said turning haughtily to Ron, “were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who’s followers.”

Ron stopped trying to catch a glimpse and looked mortified.

“They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the Wizarding community.” Mrs. Longbottom continued, “Highly gifted, the pair of them.”

Alice Longbottom, Neville’s mother, walked towards him and gave him a bubble gum wrapper. His friends almost wept as they saw him put it carefully in his pocket as if it were a precious gift.

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A/N: I watched Half Blood Prince while I was writing some of this and just realized how completely disappointed I was in the story. The movie was really trying to emphasize the romance between Ron and Hermione and between Harry and Ginny. Luckily they downplayed the terrible relationship between Harry and Hermione in the book and so there were some sweet moments when Harry was comforting Hermione. The movie ends with a H/Hr scene, but it’s still just really sad to me.

I also realized how wrong to the books some of the rights are. They’re all about the flying around in smoke trails that passes for apparition in the movies. It’s not teleportation, it’s flying, which is clearly a Voldemort thing. Oh, well.

This chapter feels a bit like a transitional chapter. I wanted to get more written, but didn’t have enough time and hit 10,000 words, which is my new goal per chapter. I’m at a stopping point, so decided I’d publish it. I plan for it all to start picking up speed now. Horcruxes are being found and their destruction is not far behind…

24. New Opponents, New Allies?

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Harry Potter characters or setting. I don’t make money on my writing.

Chapter 24: New Opponents, New Allies?

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the holiday vacation relaxing and practicing their advanced lessons. They were continuing to reinforce and refine their occlumency, but given how close they were to mastering the art, their lessons tended to teach them each more about legilimency, since they were not quite to the same level with that art. With regular practice, they were improving their legilimency.

“Harry,” Hermione asked casually one night after their occlumency practice, “do you worry about how we’ll fit in after all this is over? We’re already pretty far along in our advanced studies. You’ve talked about wanting to be an auror, but at this point you’d be bored if you went to the academy after Hogwarts. The standard aurors only learn the most basic occlumency and despite what Snape says, I think we’re close to mastering it. Your defense skills are easily on par with the best aurors you’re training with. We’re both starting to learn legilimency, which is illegal since we’re not licensed. How are we ever going to fit in after all this?”

“I don’t know.” Harry sighed, “My life has never been normal. I went from being the male Cinderella to being the Boy-Who-Lived, hero and savior of the Wizarding world. Then every summer I had to go back and forth. Every year at Hogwarts they think I’m either the hero or the villain of our story, depending on the year. We’re rich, famous, and talented. I don’t know if our lives will ever be normal.”

“Do you still want to be an auror?” Hermione asked.

“I’m not sure.” Harry said, “I don’t think I’ll ever be just an auror. Can you see me following rules enough to fit in? I might be better as a Hit Wizard, since they have more leeway. I definitely want to do something where I can continue to use my defense skills, because I’m hooked. The adrenaline rush I get when I duel is even better than Quidditch. I wouldn’t mind playing some pro-Quidditch, either. I don’t know, but we’re rich. I think we’ve got the opportunity to dabble in whatever we want…as long as we live through this whole thing. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know either.” Hermione said, lying nude on her back in Harry’s room at Grimmauld, looking around the Gryffindor themed room as she talked, “I used to go back and forth between becoming a healer, which would be intellectually challenging enough for me and is similar to what my parents do, being some sort of legal advocate lobbying to change the discriminatory laws against non-humans, or trying to be an Unspeakable, researching deep magic for the Ministry. I think I agree with you. We’re rich and can do whatever we want. I might do a bit of all of that. We’ve got at least one hundred years and from some of my reading that suggests wizards’ life spans are based on magical power, the equations suggest we may have many hundreds of years, so we’ve got time to decide.”

“Have you ever read comic books, Hermione?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Is there anything that I haven’t read, Harry?” Hermione said, looking at him with a fake scowl, “I don’t advertise the fact, but as a girl I’d read anything I could get my hands on, so I’ve read a good number of them. They get boring after a while, because you can only save the world so many times in so many different ways.”

“Well, I think I want to be Batman.” Harry said.

“I thought Snape already had that sewn up.” Hermione said with a giggle.

“Oh, yeah, good point.” Harry laughed along with her, “No, I mean I want to be like Batman with his Bruce Wayne alter ego, but mine won’t be secret. I’ll just wrap both roles up into one. I’ll do whatever I want, study whatever I want, and take out the bad guys while I’m doing it.”

“If you beat Voldemort, you’ll have the clout to do just that.” Hermione said, “Now less talking, more snogging.”

“Yes, dear.”

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Harry and Hermione worked on Dumbledore’s visualization magic. The basic concept came more easily to Harry, because he had a relaxed view of rules and the complete lack of rules inherent in this type of magic didn’t bother him. Hermione initially had a little trouble dealing with the complete lack of theory behind it, but she had become a lot more relaxed since she’d been bonded with Harry. She was also able to isolate that feeling with her occlumency so she could just focus on the actual technique. Given her encyclopedic knowledge of magic, she soon was very good with it, because she could imagine a wide variety of uses, knowing so many spells already to merge or modify.

“Harry, I get it!” Hermione said, “It’s not that there are no rules to this, it’s that all the rules we’ve learned before are wrong!”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Wands, movement, words…they’re all shortcuts.” Hermione explained her theory, “Not every wizard is a skilled occlumens and auramens with a huge magical core. They have to have a way to access their magic that works for them. The wand is a conduit that doesn’t involve a lot of self-discipline. The wand movement and the incantation are shortcuts to help with the visualization. Whatever underlying theory is missing from Dumbledore’s technique is missing from all of magic. There is no unifying theory of magic, despite what I learned in arithmancy. So maybe I can write the theory that explains all of this…once I figure it out.”

“That’s great, Hermione.” Harry said, “Let me know when you’ve got it figured out, ok?”

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Harry spent time dueling against Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Bill, the twins, Ginny, Luna, Neville… whoever would come down in the dueling room. Neville and Luna could floo through whenever they wanted. Dumbledore had warned them the floo was being monitored, but for normal trips they were happy to use it, because it made them look like normal Wizarding children, visiting each other over the holidays.

“No wonder he and Ron are friends.” Ginny said when she settled onto a chair in the library next to Hermione.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“They’re both obsessed!” Ginny said, throwing her hands up. She was breathing a little fast and her cheeks were red.

“Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked, trying to piece together the redhead’s thoughts.

“Yes!” Ginny said, “Ron only cares about eating, Quidditch, and chess. He keeps begging people to play and you can always find him in front of the board in the sitting room, but nobody wants to play because he always wins. Harry’s becoming the same way. He’s always down in the dueling room looking for someone to duel and he always wins, even when we take him on together!”

“So do you feel like not playing anymore?” Hermione asked gently.

“No!” Ginny exclaimed, “I can’t bring myself to stay away. He’s so good and he always teaches me something. I keep getting better and better, so each time I think I’m finally going to catch up to him and win, but it’s like he’s so far ahead of me that even though I’m getting better faster than I ever thought I could, he’s always a mile ahead of me.”

“Hmmm…” Hermione said, listening and thinking about what Ginny said, “Ron’s obsessed with chess. Some people say I’m obsessed with books. Harry never really had an obsession. He enjoyed Quidditch and has always been good at it, but I don’t think anyone would ever say he was obsessed. Maybe this is good for him.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Ginny groused, “I just want to beat him sometimes. At least when Ron, Luna, Neville and I all take him on.”

“He took you all on?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah and beat us all!” Ginny said, “He’s bloody fast.”

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Mr. Weasley was discharged from St. Mungo’s. He came to Grimmauld Place, where the House Elves had helped put up banners throughout the large house. One said, “Welcome home, Dad!” another said, “You can’t keep a good man down!”

Molly Weasley had cooked an enormous welcome-home feast, not allowing any of the House Elves to help. She served a Beef Wellington and Yorkshire puddings with gravy. There were huge bowls of mash potatoes, plates of roast potatoes, and tureens of gravy. Asparagus and sprouts provided at least a little vegetable support to the heavy dishes. There were pitchers of pumpkin juice and bottles of Butterbeer. The dark dining room was livened up by the gaslights turned high and a general feeling of joy over Arthur’s return. Everyone was present, including the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Moody, Neville and his gran, Luna and her father, Sirius, Harry, Hermione and her parents.

Arthur Weasley sat at the head of the table, in the position of honor. Sirius had escorted him to the seat that normally would have been Sirius’.

“Welcome home, Arthur!” Sirius said, “As the guest of honor, please sit here. If there’s anything you want that your lovely lady wife did not already provide, please let me know and Kreacher will get it for you. I have some lovely brandy that we’ll have with desert.”

They ate and talked. The mood was extremely high due to Arthur’s survival, a rare instance of successful defiance of Voldemort.

For pudding, spotted dick, trifle, and Harry’s favorite, Treacle Tart were served. Kreacher set glasses of a very old brandy at every place, giving small servings to the children and more generous to the adults.

“Thank you all.” Arthur said, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my family this Christmas. For Sirius Black, who invited my family to spend the holiday to make it easy to be near me, you have my gratitude. A big toast and my eternal thanks to Harry Potter. Without your alarm, I would not have survived. You have been a true friend to our family since we met. You saved my daughter’s life and her soul from worse than death during her first year at Hogwarts. You saved mine this year. You will always be family. House Weasley owes House Potter a debt. Harry!”

Harry blushed as everyone echoed Arthur’s toast. Once he would have stayed silent, but he was not that boy anymore. His dueling skill had awoken an increasing self-confidence in him as he knew he could stand amongst any wizards, secure in his power and his ability.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley.” Harry said, inclining his head, “But I have to disagree. You have already made me part of your family and there can be no debt amongst family. To your health, sir. You bravely guarded against Voldemort and you have made us all very happy by surviving his attack. To Arthur Weasley!”

Everyone raised their glasses again.

Neville glanced at Augusta Longbottom. She nodded and Neville stood.

“Harry brings up something I wanted to discuss. I have already spoken with the Dowager Lady Longbottom who represents House Longbottom until I come of age and she agrees. I would like to renew the alliance that has lasted for hundreds of years between House Longbottom and House Potter. Both our parents defied Voldemort and suffered for their defiance. I wish to continue to defy him and I see that by Harry’s side is the place to do that.”

Sirius stood. “Well said, Neville! House Black was traditionally arrayed on the other side from Potter and Longbottom, but that has clearly changed. I wish to join the alliance against Voldemort, not only as part of the Order, but placing the Ancient and Noble House of Black against the so-called ‘Dark Lord’. Having questioned Kreacher, I’ve learned he was responsible for the death of my brother, and he was responsible for the death of one who was like a brother to me and his wife who was like a sister, so House Black also has reason to hate him.”

Arthur nodded. “If it wasn’t clear from my earlier words, the Weasleys have always stood by the Potters and with Harry, we’ve got even more reason to do so. My house stands with you.”

Xenophilius Lovegood looked up after being elbowed by Luna.

“What? Oh, yes dear. The Lovegoods are in. Unless the Snorkack is sighted. We have a prior commitment there. We’ll support you with the Quibbler. We’ve got quite a story almost ready, just waiting for the right time until Fudge is fully committed, then we can take him out at the knees.”

“I don’t represent a great house.” Remus said, “But the Marauders were and are my family. We’ve lost to Riddle and I’ll continue to fight until my last breath.”

Tonks was staring at Remus as he talked and got a strange look on her face. “I’m a Black again, so I’m in!”

Oberon raised his glass, “I’m not a wizard, but Hermione’s told me how this Voldemort would treat non-wizards and how he wants to kill her. I understand I’m like a Jew in Nazi Germany, so hell yes, the Grangers are in!”

Harry nodded his head. It was all coming together. The light side was uniting and Voldemort should tremble, “I don’t exactly know how this works, but I think my godfather and Neville’s gran do. Would you be willing to approach a few of the other traditional light familys, like the Bones’ and see if they will join our alliance? So far it’s been accepted that all the Purebloods would stand with Riddle, but if we can change that, maybe we can get the Ministry behind us.”

The two named nodded.

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Harry sat on his bed, watching as Hermione packed. She looked around the room with a focused look on her face and then flicked her Vinewood wand. Drawers opened and their contents lifted out and flew in an orderly way to stack themselves in her chest. Books floated in from outside and neatly arranged themselves.

“Nice one.” Harry commented, “Is that an established spell?”

“No.” Hermione said grinning, “I kept trying to find it, but to do that would take at least a handful of spells. To do it Dumbledore’s way is much easier. Now I know how he does everything he does.”

Harry nodded, closing his eyes for a moment to visualize where all his school supplies and clothes were. With a wave of his Holly wand, everything rushed to arrange neatly in his trunk.

“Well done, Harry.” Hermione said, satisfied.

“Do we teach Ron?” Harry asked with a grin.

“He still would wait until last minute.” Hermione said, “We’ll help him if he needs it. We can’t share all our secrets.” The corner of her mouth quirked up, enjoying having something on their friend.

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12 Jan

At breakfast, a bleary eyed Ron looked at Harry and Hermione, both already dressed for their return to school.

“Ah, bloody hell.” Ron grumbled.

“Language, Ron!” Hermione scolded him.

“I don’t want to go back.” Ron grumbled.

“Are you sure, Mate?” Harry asked, grinning, then lowering his voice after looking around for Molly, who’d stepped out of the kitchen for a minute, “I can see why Hermione or I might be reluctant to go back, but you know it’s going to be easier to sneak Luna into the Room than it is to smuggle her to your room here.”

Ron thought for a moment, imagining the time they’d spent in the Room of Requirement. A smile crept over his face.

“You’re right!” he said, “I need to pack!”

The rest of the Golden Trio laughed.

“Finish your breakfast, Ron.” Hermione said with a smug smile, “I shouldn’t facilitate your bad habits, but I’ve tried to reform you and it hasn’t worked. Harry and I will help you pack and I guarantee it will go faster.”

They finished breakfast and then walked up to Ron’s room. Given how many rooms were in Grimmauld Place, Ron didn’t have to share with Harry, which was good, since Harry shared with Hermione when she wasn’t with her parents. Ron’s room was a mess, with clothes on the floor, drawers pulled out with clothes overflowing…the only thing empty of clothes was the hamper.

“Oh, Ron.” Hermione said, disappointed, “Won’t you ever grow up?” She looked at Harry and lifted an eyebrow. He nodded. Together they waved their wands in a coordinated way.

Ron’s clothing shot into the air, standing as if there was a body inside. It danced along in a sinuous line, going through a blast of steam that spontaneously formed in one corner, then a blast of warm air a few feet further along that wall. The clothing miraculously folded itself and then neatly packed itself into Ron’s trunk.

“Blimey, where did you learn to do that?!” Ron asked, his mouth open wide.

“We didn’t.” Harry said, “We just made it happen. We’ve been practicing.”

With all their trunks packed, they shrank them to the size of matchboxes and put them in their pockets. Walking downstairs, they saw Sirius, Remus, Ginny, Fred, George, Arthur and Molly Weasley.

“Pup, have a good spring at Hogwarts.” Sirius said, looking sad that the house would be almost empty again.

“Don’t be sad, Padfoot!” Harry said, hugging his Godfather, “Just imagine, you and Remus can drink some whiskey, chase some women, and play bachelor until I’m back. Oh, well, you can chase some women. I have a feeling Remus may be limiting himself to one woman now…”

“What are you talking about, Cub?” Remus said, giving Harry a curious look.

“Don’t think we didn’t notice how Tonks looks at you.” Harry said slyly, “Please don’t tell me you didn’t notice?”

Remus did look surprised.

“Harry, quit teasing your uncle.” Hermione said, before whispering to Remus, “Moony, she did seem to have her eye on you. Think about it.”

She gave Remus a hug, then Sirius. Harry got pulled into a big hug from Molly, before Arthur shook his hand.

“I meant everything I said, Harry.” Arthur said, his eyes gleaming, “My seven children still have their father because of you. We owe you, Harry.”

“There’s no debt amongst family.” Harry said, “I meant it when I said that. See you this summer!”

The children all gathered around a portkey Dumbledore had given them for their return, trunks stowed in pockets, and grasped it before disappearing.

They materialized in the entry hallway of Hogwarts, stepping to the sides in case others returned. They walked towards the main stairs, looking upwards at the magical staircases of Hogwarts, moving and shifting.

“Well, we’re home.” Harry said softly.

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13 Jan

First day back had passed uneventfully. Harry ate dinner and then walked with Hermione as far as Professor McGonagall’s office, then continued up the unpredictable staircases to the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s office. Like it always had since he’d apprenticed to Dumbledore, the gargoyle moved out of Harry’s way without a word. Harry rode the moving staircase upward.

“Harry.” Dumbledore said, looking up distractedly from a letter, “Thank you for being so prompt. Have a seat, I want to finish reading this.”

Harry sat and waited a few minutes. Dumbledore was a fast reader and quickly finished scanning the parchment.

“I have spoken with the goblins of Gringotts.” Albus said, “They are willing to discuss the cup with us, but they want to meet us in person. They want to speak to at least you and I in person. They suggest this weekend as a possibility.”

Harry nodded, thinking. “I’m happy to meet with them, Headmaster, but I can’t imagine why they’d want to speak to me.”

“Harry, like it or not, you are the Boy-Who-Lived. Now that you have assumed your mantle as Lord Potter, you will find more and more people will want to meet you.”

“What should we say to them?” Harry asked, “I’m afraid that if Voldemort realizes we’re seeking his horcruxes, he’ll gather them together, guard them, or hide them much more effectively. I’m certain Hermione’s spell to seek them could be blocked if he’d anticipated anyone having access to one to calibrate the scrying spell.”

“I am afraid you are right.” Dumbledore said, “Which is why we are being so careful, planning to destroy them all at once in case they send out a distress signal or he feels the loss of part of his soul, although his soul is already so fractured, I strongly suspect he will not notice. I carefully enchanted the letter to be readable only to my contact among the Goblins. They replied in a similar guarded manner. I think our knowledge is safe so far, but you are wondering how much we let them know?”

“I am, Albus.” Harry said, “The more we tell them, the more likely they are to cooperate, but also the more likely the information is to leak. I don’t even know whether they’re against Voldemort. For all I know, they could be allies.”

“No, Harry.” Dumbledore said, “The Goblins have found themselves a place in the Wizarding world, but it depends on an orderly society. If businesses do not flourish, then the gold does not flow. That is against what the Goblins desire. Further, Goblins have a strong distrust of dark magic. They made Godric Gryffindor’s sword, which is enchanted to be inimical to dark magic. No, despite their exterior, they are firmly on the side of the light. However, their inclination towards rules and law is even stronger. They may be very reluctant to let us take anything from one of their vaults. If word got out, their reputation for flawless security would be no more.”

“Do they have any rules for what can be stored?” Harry asked, “Maybe we can use their love of rules to help us. If there’s a rule against keeping dark items, maybe that would allow them to seize it.”

“That is a brilliant idea, Harry.” Dumbledore said, eyes sparkling, “I will definitely look into that…”

“Ow!” Harry said, putting a hand to his scar and focusing all his attention on his shields. Dumbledore stood, quickly walking towards him. Fawkes looked up from her perch, trilling a note of support, her magic washing over the room and strengthening the two light wizards.

“Harry, are you all right?” Dumbledore asked.

“I will be.” Harry gritted, “This was a strong one, I barely feel his emotions anymore, but he’s very happy and the changes I made to be able to see his visions lets me feel a touch of it. I can’t imagine what happened to make him feel this strong an emotion. “

“It cannot be good.” Dumbledore said, “One moment.” He walked to the floo and threw in some powder, “Alastor Moody!”

After a few moments, Moody’s face was seen amongst the green flames.

“Albus, what can I do for you?” Moody grumbled.

“Alastor, Harry has felt something from Voldemort, a strong feeling of happiness. Something must have happened. Get word out to our network, find out what has happened. I fear any warning is too late, but put it out anyway. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Will do. Moody out.”

A few hours later, they learned of the mass breakout from Azkaban. Many of Voldemort’s worst henchmen were free.

“Bellatrix?” Dumbledore muttered, “This means we must get the cup soon or she may retrieve it. Be ready for this weekend, Harry.”

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Filius was sitting in his office with a tall wizard, hook nosed like Snape, but smoothly bald. He was still young despite his baldness and his dark eyes glittered with magical power.

“Alexander Dimitriov,” Filius said, “it is an honor to meet you.”

“Please, call me Alex and let me assure you, the honor is all mine.” Alexander said, with a Russian accent, “My Master often told stories of his days learning the duel alongside you. I am pleased to finally meet the man behind the stories.”

“Well, we had some interesting experiences together, that’s true!” Filius said, smiling, “The friendships you make on the dueling strip are some of the closest I’ve experienced. The shared challenge really adds something. I’ve missed it.”

“Come back, then, Filius!” Alexander said, “What can the children need you for? Anyone can teach them charms, but you’re a master duelist. I am hoping to retake the title this year and your coaching might be enough to make that happen.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I do have duties here besides teaching children.” Filius said.

“Ah, yes, you mentioned in your letter.” Alex replied, “A potential staff member you were helping teach and evaluate? You thought I might be of help?”

“Yes, I quickly thought of you.” Filius said, “We have a candidate who I can easily see teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, a position we’ve had difficulties filling. He’s very promising, but the problem is that he doesn’t have the usual academic qualifications. I have evaluated him myself and think he’s over-qualified, but the Headmaster is not satisfied and wants to put him against top tier duelists to really test him. He’s got so much promise that we’re also hoping to further train him, so he’ll be an even better candidate.”

“You wouldn’t normally go to this much trouble for a teaching candidate, would you?” Alex asked, confused.

“Well, not normally.” Filius admitted, “However, we really have had inordinate problems filling this position to the extent that we’ve had poorly qualified teachers. I’m sure you heard about Lockhart.”

“That fraud?” Alex laughed, “He tried to enter the dueling circuit, but quickly withdrew. Not only could he not compete, he was terrified of someone injuring his face.”

“Yes, precisely.” Filius sighed, “Also, this candidate already has a bit of a name, so a little extra effort might be worthwhile. Because of his fame, we’re hoping to keep the rumors of his application quiet. We’re afraid they would be very newsworthy. So if you agree, we’ll cloak him in glamour spells to maintain his anonymity.”

“Krum?” Alex asked, “It must be. He’s only just graduated, but he is famous and would make a decent Professor in Defense.”

Filius allowed a look to cross his face that indicated surprise that Alex would so quickly deduce the secret, “I can’t confirm your guess. I do need to know if you’re interested, however. We will pay standard rates along with room and board.”

“It just so happens I received another letter.” Alex said, smiling, “Some rich brat had his father write to me to extend an offer. I’m apparently to provide extracurricular lessons to he and his friends, so working with your candidate will give me an opportunity to maintain my skills while I waste time with schoolboys. I have already taken a room in Hogsmeade, but I will take you up on your offer of board and standard rates in addition to the money I’m getting for those lessons will be more than enough.”

Flitwick nodded, hiding the true surprise from this unexpected information. Who could it be? He had a suspicion, but surely not?

“When should I expect to work with your candidate?” Alex asked.

“Tonight would be optimal.” Filius replied, “Meet me here immediately after dinner. We’ll proceed to the dueling room together. I am going to dress you in a disguise. I don’t want him to know who he’s facing. He will also wear a disguise. I don’t want there to be any publicity, as I’ve told you. Questions?”

“No, sounds good.” Alex said, “I hope your boy knows what he’s facing.”

“I think he’ll do fine.” Filius said with a smile.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Harry, not knowing of his new opponent, sat at the Gryffindor table eating. Hermione was on his right, Ron was on his left. Neville sat straight across from him with Ginny beside him.

“Hermione, how are the plans going?” Ginny asked.

Hermione brought her soup spoon to her mouth and gently blew on it.

“Well, they’re going really well.” Hermione said brightly, “My mother was worried at first, because she didn’t feel like we have enough time to plan, but when I pointed out that I could put it together in an hour by myself with magic, she was really reassured. The only difficult parts are invitations and announcements, since those have to be done ahead of time. Mother handled the Muggle announcements, saying we were going away to be married. Your mum is helping with the Wizarding announcements, which we’re putting in the Quibbler to show our distaste for the Daily Prophet. The Quibbler is also going to get exclusive access, so that should burn the Daily Prophet, too.”

“What about flowers?” Ginny asked.

“Didn’t Neville tell you?” Hermione asked, surprised, “He’s working with Professor Sprout to grow the flowers. I showed Winky what I want the arrangements to look like, so she’s going to put them together.”

“The dress?” Ginny asked.

“Madame Malkin.” Hermione said, “She’s made all my clothes so far, so I talked to her and found out that she really loves making wedding dresses. She drew a few pictures for me and showed me some photos of brides in dresses she’d made. They were really beautiful. She’s giving me a great deal, because making the wedding dress for the Boy-Who-Lived’s wedding is such a big deal, she’ll get enough orders afterwards to pay her back just in publicity.”

“It’s so romantic.” Ginny sighed, “Mum would kill me if I tried to marry before graduation.”

Hermione shrugged, “It’s different for us. My parents were concerned at first, but once they saw how happy I was, they came around. They see Harry’s been good for me. I’ve had my head out of a book so much more, they thinks he walks on water.”

“I don’t?” Harry asked, teasing.

“No, dear.” Hermione teased back, “Given how long it took me to teach you the bubblehead charm, before we decided to just go with gillyweed, you certainly don’t.”

They finished eating and walked out of the Great Hall. Neville and Ginny continued up the stairs, while Harry, Hermione, and Ron headed downward to the dueling room. Harry opened the door like usual to find a small entranceway room had been added.

“Come in, Harry. Shut the door.” Filius said.

The three of them squeezed into the fairly small room and shut the door.

“I’ve got a change for you, today.” Filius said, “You’re getting to know your opponents too well, which you won’t always have the luxury to do, so from now on, they’ll usually be anonymous. I don’t want you to have an advantage, since they’ll be wearing masks you will also wear a mask. Sometimes your opponents may be highly placed aurors who would get in trouble if they were helping train Harry Potter, since your name is not exactly at the top of the Ministry Christmas Card list, so you’ll also be anonymous. Don’t introduce yourself. We can make up a nickname for you, if you want.”

“The Machine.” Harry said, not thinking.

“Interesting.” Filius said, “Nice and very anonymous. I’m glad you didn’t pick ‘Phoenix’ or ‘Seeker’. The Machine is much more generic.”

Harry wondered why he’d said that so quickly and not ‘Prongs’ or ‘Pronglet’, but he didn’t overthink it.

“Here’s your mask, Harry.” Professor Flitwick said, “Put it on, then go through the door.”

Harry put on the plain mask and a glamour spell washed over him, turning his dueling robes into anonymous black robes with his face kept in shadow. He turned the knob and walked into the main room. He could see a dark robed figure at the other end. He took his place while his friends walked to the seats against the sidewall and sat. Filius took his place as the coach and judge, waving his wand to bring up protective wards, including some to protect the spectators.

Harry looked more closely at his enemy, who appeared to be in Death Eater robes and mask.

“Machine, are you ready?” Filius asked.

“Yes.” Harry said flatly.

“Deater, are you ready?” Filius asked, already having told Dimitriov this would be his code name.

“Yes.” Dimitriov said.

“Bow, salute, and begin.” Filius said, stepping back slightly.

Harry bowed respectfully, made a crisp salute, while his opponent did the same.

Utter stillness settled over the room. Harry had felt similar before, but it somehow felt thicker today, with a deep underlying feeling of teetering on the edge of a precipice. He could hear his heart beat as he circled, his eyes on Deater’s hips, taking his whole body into account, watching his wand and trying to see his eyes. Harry shifted his feet, sliding them along the stone floor with a quiet rasp of sound. Foot slides out double shoulder width, then hind foot moves forward to shoulder width. Step, slide, step, slide.

He almost felt a ‘click’ as he sensed Deater begin to move. His enemy’s wand dipped through the barest motions of a spell, sliding right into the next. Harry flicked his wand through his reply. A stream of spells hurtled his way. With auramancy he could see they were violent spells indeed. Entrail expelling curses, bone breakers, cutting curses, piercing curses and reductors flew towards him. He sent back his own stream of hell, mostly a new spell he’d constructed, a focused piercing charm with a very tight blasting hex riding the back of it, designed to pierce armor, dueling robes, or shields and then explode. He sidestepped, rolled, avoided Deater’s curses, while continuing to shoot his own. He watched his opponent do the same, part of his mind appreciating the other’s smooth movement while the rest of his mind was occupied with how to kill the faceless Death Eater.

A spell came too close and he wove in a tiny shield charm, flicking the spell back with his wand like a fencer parrying a thrust. His enemy’s attack flew back at him, joining the stream rolling off Harry’s wand.

Chips of stone flew off the walls, floor, and ceiling as the missed spells impacted.

Harry swung his wand in a circular movement, a whip of fire unfolding off the end, forming a huge circle of burning death flying at Deater. ‘crack, crack’ the tip sounded as it exceeded the speed of sound as it flicked at the robed man.

Deater dove out of the way, then with an odd gathering motion, he formed a blue spark between his hands, adding more with each caressing movement of his hands as if he was forming a snowball. Larger and larger it grew, before he threw it at Harry, the light changing as it flew to become a giant wall of water. The fire whip hissed as it flashed some of the water to steam before disappearing. Harry was thrown into the stone wall by the wave of water, making an ‘oof’ sound, before fighting to hold his breath.

Deater made a similar motion with his hands and the water gathered itself into a ball again, but this time around Harry, suspending him in the middle of a globe of clear water.

Harry grew frantic, unable to breathe. He made a motion with his wand and the entire globe froze solid, before shattering, shards of ice flying everywhere. Harry hit the floor and rolled, quickly gesturing. All the shards gathered, oriented in the same direction, then flew at Deater like clear spikes.

With a flat motion, like drawing a wall, the Death Eater created a thin, red plane in front of himself. The shards hit the wall of energy and disappeared into steam.

Both opponents circled each other warily, realizing they were well matched.

Holly wand waved and the chips of stones turned into grey spiders, fangs dripping with a potent green poison, scurrying towards Deater like a carpet of poisonous death. A wave of oaken wand and an arc of fire, mere inches off the floor, rolled out, crisping the spiders. Harry conjured serpents that responded to his commands to attack, but Deater countered with little weasel like mammals that bit the snakes, killing them. Deater fired off another chain of attack curses, causing Harry to weave between them. Finally, he dove underneath, rolling towards Deater to close the distance. Potter came out of the roll into a crouch, left knee down, right foot down. He flipped his wand around and slammed the butt of it against the floor as if it were a much bigger staff of wood. The floor rippled like a still pool, ripples expanding outward in waves.

Deater was thrown from his feet, never having seen that spell. He landed hard on his back, the stone floor once again very solid. A red beam hit him, knocking him unconscious.

The spectators were silent, stunned at the duel they’d just seen, but then Hermione jumped up.

“Go, Harry! Woo-hoo!” she yelled, face flushed.

“Woo-hoo?” Harry asked, “Did I just hear Hermione yell woo-hoo?”

“Hell, yeah, you did.” Hermione said, grinning and running to him, “You won’t hear it often, but that was incredible!”

“Good job, Mate!” Ron said.

“Enough celebrating!” Professor Flitwick yelled, “Remember, don’t call him Harry, especially if Deater is awake. That was an adequate showing against this opponent, Machine, but we need to wake him and keep working. You have a lot of practice before you’re where you need to be.

What was that piercing charm combination with the blasting hex?”

“I call that my SPEAR.” Harry said absently.

“Spear, like the ‘telum’ spells?” Flitwick asked, “It didn’t look like those at all.”

“No, SPEAR, as in S.P.E.A.R. it stands for ‘shield piercing explosive anti-personnel round’.” Harry said, “I made it up to be like a Muggle weapon.”

“Oh.” Flitwick said, “It appeared like it would be effective. I see you redesigned the spell to be fast cast, not like casting both of those charms on top of each other. What’s the downside?”

“It costs more energy than both of those spells cast in sequence would.” Harry said, “But I’m barely tapping my core by the end of these duels, so I don’t think that will matter as much as crafting some really effective spells.”

Flitwick woke Deater, who spent a few minutes walking around the room, stretching the kinks out of his muscles and glancing at the man who’d beaten him. He gave him one small respectful nod before taking his place.

Both men bowed, saluted, and then started the next duel.

They circled, then Deater sent a huge wave of force at Harry, banishing him into the wall when he tried to dodge. Slamming into the stone wall, Harry felt something crack and it hurt when he breathed.

He retaliated, sending a stream of the piercing blasts at Deater, who deflected them all, sending some back at Harry, who had to defend against his own attack. Deater then sent a small cloud of flechettes, tiny vaned darts, at Harry. Harry started to dodge, but realized his error when the flechettes multiplied in the air, the cloud growing to ten times the original size, much too large to dodge. Harry managed to deflect most of them with a hurried shield, but took some to the left arm, left leg, and had some grazes to his side.

Hermione gasped, feeling Harry’s pain and seeing blood against the stone as he rolled upright.

Harry flicked his wand through another chain of attacks, small black beads rolling off and streaking towards Deater, who’d never seen the like. Deater dodged successfully, none of the black beads hitting him directly, but as they neared him, they stopped and he felt like his body was about to be torn apart, unknown forces pulling him towards the black beads, towards all of the beads, threatening to rip him limb from limb. He gestured, sending out a banishing charm in a sphere around himself, forcing the miniature black holes away, the force becoming tolerable as they became more distant. Deater groaned with the effort and pain, many of his muscles and tendons strained.

Potter took the opportunity to perform a quick combat healing charm, closing his bleeding wounds.

Deater waved his wand through a complicated series of movements, wincing under the mask as his strained muscles protested.

The stones of the wall and floor around Harry reached out arms and grabbed him, holding his arms and legs to his body. Unable to use his wand, Harry struggled to fight, struggled even to breath. He could sense that Hogwarts didn’t want to let herself be used in this way and if he’d called, he thought she’d resist, but he didn’t, knowing most of his fights would not be in Hogwarts and not wanting to cheat. He struggled to think of how to respond. None of his wandless magic was strong enough. He wandlessly shot a stream of reductors at Deater, once of his best wandless spells, but Deater dodged all of them. Harry’s vision grayed as the arms squeezed his chest and choked him. Just before his vision disappeared, he tapped his hand to his thigh rapidly, yielding the fight.

Deater dispelled the transfigured stone arms and Harry fell to the floor, gasping, his vision slowly returning. The grey retreated and the red tinge finally cleared. Once he finally caught his breath, he walked back to his starting place.

“Again.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Soaking in the Prefects’ bath, Harry relaxed, letting his muscles recover from the damage. He’d swallowed some potions Flitwick had given him for healing and now he was letting the warm water work its own magic. Hermione floated next to him, occasionally massaging his arms, legs, back and chest.

“Wow, if that was one of the ones I’ve been fighting,” Harry groaned, “they’ve been holding back.”

“I don’t think so.” Hermione said, “He had different spells and was much…better…more polished than they were. I don’t know who he is, but he’s done this exhaustively.”

“It seemed different.” Harry said, “It seemed like I was fighting myself, but a better, faster, older self. I don’t know how I won any.”

“Don’t say that, Harry, you won several.” Hermione protested.

“The first one was a surprise.” Harry said, “He’d never seen my stone wave spell.”

“Neither have I.” Hermione said, “You made it up, didn’t you.”

“Ok, ok, I made it up.” Harry chuckled, “I almost got him with your black hole spell, but he managed to defeat it. He was fast and improvised well.”

“You got better as you went along.” Hermione said, “You’re still learning. Give yourself time.”

“But do I have time?” Harry asked grimly, “I don’t know how long we’ve got until Voldemort doesn’t give us anymore time.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

“You lied to me.” Dimitriov said to Filius once the others had left, “That’s not just a candidate for Defense Professor.”

“Oh?” Flitwick responded calmly, “I welcome your opinion, since that is why we hired you. What did you think? Who do you think it is?”

“Was it Estaban?” Dimitriov asked, “He doesn’t usually have that original a spell selection, but it could have been him, almost had to be him to do that well against me. What a strange spell selection. It was like a cross between a school boy and a spell designer. He was fast, I could tell he’s had training to make him faster, probably Ashdown, but could have been Richaud. He was powerful. He’s as strong as Dumbledore, isn’t he? He’s just young. With more training, he’s going to dominate the dueling circuit. Why should I train my replacement?”

“Why? Why do we always do it?” Flitwick asked, “If you duel against him, you’ll make each other better. I wouldn’t expect him on the circuit for at least 2-3 years. You’ll have plenty of time to beat Estaban and be back on top for a while before he shows up.”

“It’s not that and you know it.” Alex said, “Fighting him makes my blood sing. That’s why I do this. It’s always been why I do this. I only thought I was going to hate teaching schoolboys. Now I’m really going to hate it, because I’m going to be teaching the stunning spell while thinking about how that young man flies across the strip more than walks.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

That week passed differently than most. Harry still held the DA meeting, drilling the skills the members had gained prior to break and knocking the rust off. Otherwise, he spent all his extracurricular time dueling with Deater, who taught him counters to some of the spells he beat him with, including working on wandless dispelling charms and stone to gravel transfiguration.

Dec 18

Harry, Hermione, and Dumbledore met in the Headmaster’s office. Both Harry and Hermione wore their finest robes, ready for a meeting with the Goblins. Strangely, Hedwig had knocked on Harry’s window early that morning. He’d expected her to bring him a letter, but she hadn’t had one tied to her leg when he’d checked. She landed on his shoulder and refused to leave. Harry couldn’t remember her ever being this clingy, but ultimately, he’d let her come along. He liked having his familiar with him. It didn’t hurt that she was a gorgeous snowy owl and made him look even better in his black robes.

“That’s strange.” Hermione had said, seeing him with Hedwig as they’d headed down to breakfast.

“I know.” Harry said, “Although she does sometimes want to ride on my shoulder. Maybe I haven’t sent her out enough or been neglecting her.”

“Familiars can sometimes sense danger.” Hermione had said, “I don’t believe in divination, but we should be cautious today.”

“We will visit the Head Goblin.” Dumbledore said, “He is chosen as the leader for Gringotts and the Goblin nation. They take the position so seriously that he sacrifices his name and is forever after known only as the Head Goblin until he dies and another takes his place. He is totally devoted to the well-being of the Goblin nation, which they see as embodied by profit. Be polite, but confident. Do you understand?”

Both nodded.

“Gringotts!” Harry said, flinging a handful of floo powder into the Headmaster’s fireplace and stepping through the green flames. He moved out of the way and helped steady Hermione as she stepped through, Dumbledore following seconds after.

“We are here for a meeting with the Head Goblin.” Albus said, going to a goblin at the counter.

The Goblin stared for a moment, looking ready to say something rude, but quickly hopped off his stool.

“Very well, come this way.”

He led them down a long hallway through a door marked “Staff Only”. He came to what was clearly the biggest office, entering through a smaller office occupied by the Director’s administrative assistants.

“Wait here; the Head Goblin will be notified.”

They went to sit in fine leather chairs, but before they were even seated, a door marked “Head Goblin” in gilt letters on glass opened and a finely dressed Goblin stepped through.

“Come along, then.” The Head Goblin said, “Time is money.”

Dumbledore, Harry, and Hermione stepped into the Head Goblin’s office, which was dominated by a huge desk. On one side of the desk was an archaic calculating machine with a roll of parchment tape. Otherwise the desk was dominated by a large blotter and several bottles of ink. The walls were lined with bookshelves, some book titles in Gobbledygook, others in English appeared to be about Wizarding law and finance. Three comfortable leather chairs were arranged in front of the desk.

The Head Goblin tapped a rune which previously had been unobtrusive, but once touched, it started glowing. Large steel vault-like doors came out of recessed slots in the walls, clanking together and hiding what had been the wall with the regular office door in it. A blue glow traced along the seam and it suddenly looked like a solid wall of steel.

“We won’t be disturbed.” The Head Goblin said in his raspy voice, “I understand you ask a boon of us? Lord Potter, please tell me in your own words what you desire.”

“Me?” Harry asked, sitting upright and glancing at Dumbledore. At his nod, he cleared his throat, “Very well. I’m not sure what I’m asking is really a boon for us, it’s more a question of helping us help you. There’s a very dark item in one of your vaults. I could tell you more, but I need complete privacy.”

“Gringotts privacy is legendary. Our customers trust us with their gold and their secrets. Nobody will ever get at either.” The Head Goblin said, glaring at Harry.

“Right. Just checking.” Harry said, “Have you heard of a Horcrux?”

“Dark magic indeed.” The Goblin said, sitting forward, “Tell me more.”

“A wizard by the name of Tom Riddle created Horcruxes to save himself from his greatest fear: death. He used murders of innocents to fracture his soul and imbued objects with these fragments. He chose objects of significance to the Wizarding world. One object is within your walls. We have a spell that will help us locate it within your bank. If you allow us, we can tell you were it is and you can bring it to us. We will destroy it. Or you can allow us to retrieve it. The choice is yours, but to destroy Voldemort, we must first destroy the item.”

The Head Goblin laced his fingers together and contemplated what he’d been told. Given Goblins desire for brevity and efficiency, his contemplation revealed the true seriousness with which he’d taken these revelations.

“We’ve reviewed the contracts Gringotts makes with customers.” Hermione offered, “Horcruxes clearly violate what items are allowed to be stored within. Cursed items are one thing, but soul fragments violate your rules. We understand how seriously you take your customers’ security and privacy, but you have the right by contract to remove this item. We are even willing to return it, once we’ve destroyed the soul fragment within. The item was stolen to begin with, but we’re willing to return to the pieces, if any are left.”

“You’re right, we are allowed by contract to remove this item.” The Head Goblin said, “You say it was stolen? We will verify both of these claims, that it was stolen and that it is a Horcrux. If so, you may take it if you swear an oath on your life and magic to destroy it. What spell do you need to cast to locate it?”

“Do you have a map of Gringotts?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, here.” The Head Goblin said, touching a small rune on his desk. A large map unrolled covering most of one wall. Twisted passages, marked tracks, and endless vaults were marked clearly. The writing was in Gobbledygook.

“I need to cast a spell that will show where the item is. It will only touch the map.” Hermione said.

The Head Goblin nodded and Hermione started. She cast a very long, difficult spell, gesturing at Harry’s forehead and the map several times, drawing a magical connection between them. Then she repeated the spell she’d cast on her map in the Headmaster’s office and a wave of energy washed over the surface of the wall map, slowly coalescing into a glowing dot.

“Ah, the Lestrange Vault.” The Head Goblin said, “I will go personally and retrieve this item. If you have lied, you will be punished before you are allowed to leave. If you are honest, I will give this item into your hands for destruction. Is this acceptable?”

“It is.” Harry said, holding his hand out.

The Head Goblin looked at Harry strangely for a moment, then reached out and shook hands with Harry.

“You are an unusual Wizard, Lord Potter. I could wish there were more like you.”

The Head Goblin touched the glowing rune and the steel door opened a crack, enough to expose the office door. He walked through and the steel door closed behind him, sealing as if it were a steel wall.

“Well, I hope they find what we expect.” Dumbledore said, “There are strong wards on this room. I do not think that even I could penetrate, although Fawkes might be able to.”

Minutes passed and the tension grew until finally, the steel doors reopened. The Head Goblin entered with a guard of six heavily armed and armored Goblins.

“Albus Dumbledore, you came to me with a story of Dark Magic.” The Head Goblin thundered, “Luckily for you, it turned out to all be true. We found a cup within the Lestrange vault that was thick with the darkest magic. We tested it for a soul fragment and one was bound within the object. It is a Horcrux.”

The Head Goblin gestured. One of his warriors came forward with a steel box heavily engraved with runes.

“Take it and destroy it.” The Head Goblin said, “We will erect monitoring wards so if any similar items come into Gringotts, we will know. If this happens, you will be informed.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, shaking the Head Goblin’s hand again.

“Harry, you and Hermione can go ahead of me.” The Headmaster said, “I have more I need to speak with the Head Goblin about. If you want, you can do some shopping in Diagon Alley. I will join you once our discussion is through. Maybe we can have lunch before returning to Hogwarts.”

“Ok, Headmaster.” Harry said.

“Come on, Harry, we can look through the bookstore!” Hermione said excitedly.

Harry and Hermione walked past the Goblin warriors. They were escorted down the long hallway and back into the public lobby of Gringotts. They walked out the front door into the chill winter air. After the holidays, few shoppers walked around Diagon Alley. School age children were in school and parents were recuperating from Christmas spending.

“I hope they have the new addition of Arithmancy for Adepts.” Hermione said, “I’ve heard it’s going to include the new formulas for calculating spell strength. I’ve been wondering if I can adapt those to improvised spells using Dumbledore’s technique.”

Harry had been looking all around the Alley, noticing how different it looked in the winter. Hedwig rode his shoulder, also looking around. Harry noticed one knot of shoppers walking towards them, seemingly headed for Gringotts. It was a group of three in dark cloaks, bundled against the cold with hoods up. As he passed, he caught the barest glimpse of one of the faces, a witch that looked somehow familiar. She looked a bit like Sirius, he thought as he walked by. He realized he’d lost the thread of Hermione’s conversation and tried to pick it back up before she noticed.

“Harry? Harry Potter?” came a high pitched sing-song voice from the group that had just passed them.

Harry turned, his blood going cold. He dropped his wand from the forearm holster into his hand.

“I see that little Harry wants to play!” the witch cackled, “Avada Kedavra!”

Time seemed to slow, but no matter how slowly it moved, Harry couldn’t seem to react fast enough. He continued to turn, seeing a green light shooting toward him. He couldn’t tell whether it was aimed at him or Hermione. He knew a shield wouldn’t work, but took a split second to decide between dodging and trying to summon an object to block the killing curse.

While he thought, time continued to move sluggishly along. He felt a pressure leave his shoulder and saw Hedwig launch herself, wings beating furiously, interposing her body between him and the sickening green light.

He made an effort to levitate a cobblestone into the way of the curse, hoping to save Hedwig, but it was too late. With a green flash, she started to tumble. Time was moving so fast that she seemed suspended in air while the duel continued to unfold.

Flashes left Hermione’s wand, hitting one of the two wizards. Blood sprayed from neatly sliced robes as her cutting curse clipped his shoulder and his wand arm dropped useless to his side.

Harry began a chain of SPEARs before he even had his wand fully pointed at his target. The explosive hexes tracked along the cobblestone towards the cackling, wild-haired witch. Stones exploded with the force of his anger, stone chips spraying everywhere as the line of death marched towards her.

Time seemed to continue to creep along. Hermione reoriented herself towards the other wizard, while he brought his wand to bear against her. Hedwig’s body continued to tumble through the air on the same trajectory she’d launched herself on before being hit. The green flash of the killing curse seemed to resolve into flames, the power of the spell seeming to light the owl on fire.

“Another dies to save little baby Potter!” Bellatrix cackled, “You’re running out of fan club members, Harry! Their sacrifices are touching, but pointless! You’re still going to die.”

She threw up a shield as the piercing and blasting hex combos reached her, but her eyes widened as she realized her shield couldn’t take more than one, maybe two hits. She threw herself to the ground to avoid death.

Hermione’s wand began spitting tiny black beads at the third member of the evil trio. Meanwhile, he slashed his wand down almost vertically and yelled an incantation which they didn’t hear. A violet fan of fire rolled towards Hermione. She sidestepped and the fire missed her. Meanwhile, the miniature black holes missed directly hitting the evil wizard as he dodged, but he felt the tearing pull as he fought to avoid being sucked in or torn apart. Cobblestones were breaking up beneath the gravity forces and bits of stone were being sucked in, disappearing into nothingness.

“Jugson, go!” the Wizard called, as he grabbed something within his robes and disappeared. The injured
Wizard, Jugson according to the other, also disappeared.

“You do know how to play! We’ll have to play again, sometime Potter!” Bellatrix shrieked, “Until then…”

She disappeared and the Alley was silent.

Harry screamed in frustration. His magic was pulsing off him in waves, the sheer power of his core not even touched by the destructive magic he’d thrown in the bare seconds of the fight.

Hermione rushed towards him.

Dumbledore walked slowly towards them from the main doors of Gringotts, seconds too late to join the fight.

Hedwig’s flaming body hit the stone street, Harry’s first companion and only friend during the long summers spent at the Dursley’s. Harry knelt over the flames and his tears rolled down his face.

“Not Hedwig, no.” Harry cried, unable to control his magic as it continued to fight to be free.

Tears dripped off his face, landing in the pile of ash. With a cheeping sound, a chick poked its beak out of the ashes.

“Wha….?” Harry murmured, unintelligibly.

Dumbledore reached them.

“What happened? How did Fawkes arrive…wait, this is not Fawkes.”

“It was Hedwig.” Hermione said.

“Hedwig? Harry’s owl, Hedwig?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, it was Hedwig. She took a killing curse intended for Harry, burst into flames, and this chick just poked its head out of the ashes.” Hermione summarized.

“Wha…?” Harry almost moaned.

Dumbledore placed a hand on his back. “I do not know either, Harry. There are no known instances where this has happened and I am one of two experts on Phoenix Lore, Newt Scamander being the other. No matter. We are not safe here. Let us return to Gringotts and from there floo home. We will have to discuss this attack and the consequences in greater depth there.”

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A/N: I agonized for hours over whether to end on a complete cliffhanger, leaving the appearance of Hedwig just outright dying. I ultimately decided not to and wrote a brief conclusion to her temporary death. It’s too brief, but we’ll go into more theories on how this happened moving forward.

25. Rise of the Phoenix

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or the other elements of the Potterverse. I don’t make money from this.

Chapter 25: Rise of the Phoenix

Jan 19

After returning to the Headmaster’s office by floo, Harry sat numbly in one of the squashy chairs, carefully cradling a strange looking chick, covered in ashes. Fawkes looked at him interestedly, crooning a comforting song. Hermione enlarged the chair with a wave of her wand and tucked herself into Harry, also comforting him. Meanwhile, Dumbledore opened the small vault where he was keeping the Horcruxes they had already obtained. The small vault had several heavily warded boxes, each containing one Horcrux separately. The vault itself was heavily warded. The Headmaster was taking no chances. After he finished, he called out,

“Timmy?”

With a quiet pop a Hogwarts house elf appeared.

“Master Dumbledore called?”

“Yes, Timmy.” Dumbledore said, “Could you please bring lunch for me and my two students?”

“Right away, Master Dumbledore!” with a quiet pop, the house elf was gone.

The Headmaster settled into his chair with a sigh. The day had shifted from a fairly calm meeting with the Goblins to a meeting with the Head Goblin and then a brief but nearly deadly fight on Diagon Alley. The consequences were confusing at best.

“Harry?” Dumbledore asked in his most grandfatherly voice, “Are you alright?”

“Sir, I don’t know!” Harry said, “We were just walking to the bookstore when suddenly we were in the middle of a fight. I actually didn’t think I’d feel that shaken up about the fight. I dropped into my normal dueling mindset…but Bellatrix launched the Killing Curse as the very first thing! I didn’t expect that. Voldemort toyed with me in the graveyard; I guess I expected the other Death Eaters to do the same. I froze. My mind was moving at a million miles an hour, but my body wouldn’t turn fast enough. The memory of my mum dying went through my mind again and I thought I was going to lose Hermione this time. I couldn’t think, couldn’t decide whether to block with an object or dodge and didn’t do either. Hedwig threw herself in the way and then I all I could think about was killing Bellatrix for killing Hedwig. Now Hedwig is like this and I don’t know how to feel. I thought I was becoming a good duelist. I’d started to think maybe I had a chance against the Death Eaters, but how can I face Voldemort and all the Death Eaters I saw in the graveyard if I can’t even face three without freezing?”

Hermione tightened her grip on Harry and sent soothing thoughts his way.

‘It’s ok, love. It’s ok. I’m alive. I didn’t die. She cast at you, not me and we’re both ok.’

Fawkes continued crooning the soothing and inspiring phoenix song. Harry finally began to calm.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, looking straight at his apprentice and speaking in a very serious voice, “I have been in conflicts over many years. I never wanted to be, I always saw myself as more of an academic. I mean I have always had some interest in dueling, but more along the lines of an interesting athletic pursuit to keep me physically and magically strong while I built up my mind. However, I never planned on facing the Dark Wizard Grindelwald. It was a very circuitous route that led to our meeting, but I assure you, after my first real fight, I lost the contents of my stomach. I did not develop anything approaching steadiness under fire for many, many fights after that.

“You have faced Voldemort more times than anyone should have to. As a baby, then in your first year, your second year, and most recently at the end of your fourth year. During your third year you had the relative break of nearly dying by having your soul removed by Dementors. I am sure you feel you should be used to this by now, am I right?”

“Yes!” Harry almost shouted, “Why do I feel shaky and scared now?”

“Well, I have a few theories about that.” Albus continued, “You have more to lose now than you ever did before. You were afraid Bellatrix was going to attack Hermione. Knowing how you feel about her that had to be very frightening, especially when she used the Killing Curse, a spell you have unfortunately had a terrible experience with.”

Harry nodded his head, his eyes shining.

“You have organized your memories with occlumency, which normally helps control your emotions, but very few have memories such as yours. I think that after today, you need to revisit your memories of your initial encounter with Voldemort and your parents’ deaths. If you choose to do so tonight, tomorrow you may consider visiting their graves. I do not know why I never took you before, but this may be the time now, perhaps let you come to terms with the experience in whole.”

Harry took some deep cleansing breaths, trying to keep from breaking out into fresh tears.

“You saw your friend, Hedwig, die. I know how important she is to you. After the terrible childhood at the Dursleys’, she will always have an important place in your heart. That loss, despite being followed by some miracle, which I am still not sure of, would traumatize any normal person, especially someone with a heart like yours. Finally, you faced the thought of yourself as a killer. I was able to see this part of the fight, although I was not yet close enough to really intercede. You have trained hard and have an incredible natural aptitude as a duelist. You were about to avenge Hedwig. After my experiences against Grindelwald and later, Voldemort, I realized I never wanted to kill again. I have tried to impart this in you, but others, particularly Master Auror Moody disagree with me. I do not deny they have a point and we take a chance every time we stun a Death Eater that they will be revived. When we imprison a Death Eater in Azkaban, we risk their escape, as Bellatrix escaped.”

Harry nodded, paying close attention to his mentor.

“Harry, you will need to make your own decision. You may be faced with killing or, by choosing not to, you may face the deaths of someone you love because you chose not to kill. Whatever your choice, you need to be at peace with it. No matter how much you prepare, you will be shaken if someone dies by your hand. Quirrell died at your touch and you didn’t realize what would happen, but you’re older now and if you kill someone, it will be because you meant to kill them. By preparing ahead of time you will not eliminate that reaction, but you may prepare for it enough that you can continue to function.

“Each time before when you were placed in these situations, afterwards you woke up in the Hospital Ward. So, while this seems like a greater reaction, I present to you the thought that at least you’re conscious.”

Harry chuckled slightly at that, as Dumbledore had obvious intended.

“Thank you, Professor.” Harry said quietly, “I thought I was beyond this.”

“No, Harry, don’t regret what makes you human.” Dumbledore said, smiling, his eyes twinkling.

“So…what’s with Hedwig?” Harry asked, looking down at the little chick in his hands, who was looking up at him with shining eyes and making cute little cheeping noises.

“Harry, one of the qualities of a truly good student,” Professor Dumbledore sighed, “is that they often ask questions that are not easily answered. Perhaps we can figure this question out together.”

Hermione released Harry and moved just slight apart from him, so she could look down at the chick.

“Having seen the whole sequence, it looks like Hedwig intercepted the Killing Curse meant for Harry and reacted like a Phoenix would, being forced into a burning day.” Hermione said, “There are documented instances of the same in Fawkes, since the Killing Curse was something of a specialty amongst the Death Eaters in the war.”

“Very good, Hermione. Ten points to Gryffindor for your usual academic acumen.” Dumbledore said, “That is very similar to my theory, but then we reach the truly difficult question…how did Hedwig, an owl, do what comes naturally to a phoenix?”

They all sat and looked at Hedwig and then the two children looked back at Dumbledore.

“So…I’m on shaky ground here, Headmaster.” Hermione said, the unease of approaching knowledge she wasn’t completely certain of, an unusual position for her, clear in her voice, “However, I have never found it clearly documented how phoenices originated. Were they born, created, or are there only as many now as there will ever be? Given that the only other known domesticated phoenix, Sparky, is a mascot for a Quidditch team, there is very little information available!”

Fawkes made a somewhat rude noise, although it was unclear whether he was objecting to be called domesticated or whether in derision for a phoenix who chose to be a team mascot.

Hermione smiled up at Fawkes, “No offense meant, Fawkes. So, my theory is that perhaps phoenices are not born, but arise from certain very special circumstances. Basilisks, for example, are hatched from chicken eggs hatched beneath a toad. After Quirrell’s death, you discussed with Harry how the death of his mother when she voluntarily sacrificed herself to save him created a very powerful ancient magic protection on him that would protect him from Voldemort. Perhaps Hedwig’s sacrifice invoked similar magic and transformed her into a phoenix?”

The other two listened carefully to her theory.

“That is a very solid theory, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said, “Not every sacrifice invokes the ancient magic. The motive must be very pure, the sacrifice must be completely voluntary, and it helps if the sacrifice is a powerfully magical person or perhaps in this case, an animal. In this case, the sacrifice was between the familiar of the most powerful wizard of his age who sacrificed himself for that wizard. There’s already more ancient magic around you than anyone in history due to your mother’s sacrifice and the prophecy. I think this may be the first observed instance of the origin of a phoenix.”

“Maybe not the first, Headmaster.” Harry said, “Hermione mentioned Sparky. Maybe it’s not so weird that a phoenix is a team mascot. Maybe he was already a familiar of one of the players who sacrificed himself for his witch or wizard and became a phoenix. Sparky may not be a mascot at all, but just like Fawkes, he continues to be the familiar of his chosen wizard. If this is how phoenixes form, maybe it’s usually seen by the one who the phoenix saved, but none of them have ever talked about it.”

“Phoenices, Harry, it’s Latin.” Hermione corrected, “I can see why they wouldn’t. Can you imagine how many terrible wizards would be trying to throw their pets in the way of Killing Curses to try to change them into a phoenix? It would be awful!”

“Headmaster, how did you and Fawkes end up together?” Harry asked.

“Fawkes joined me during my quest to defeat Grindelwald.” Dumbledore answered, “I have never known him as anything other than a phoenix and he has been my companion ever since. I will teach you what I know about the care of a phoenix. If that is indeed what Hedwig has become, you will need to know. For now, know that she will be very weak until she grows up a little bit, but that happens fairly quickly. If you look with your auramancy, you will note the bond between you and Hedwig. She is also bonded to Hermione, through you. As your bond strengthens and comes to completion, that bond will become more and more powerful.”

“I actually suspected you might at some point end up with a phoenix companion.” Albus continued, “There are so many parallels between you and I. Fawkes came to me during my opposition to Grindelwald. I wondered whether you might have a similar companion. It’s why I have waited to begin your training towards the animagus transformation. You have seen how magic can influence magic. Your father’s animagus form shaped his patronus. In that same way, I hope that your familiar may shape your animagus form. There are many animagus forms, as you have observed. Insects, rodents, large mammals… the least common are magic forms. Sirius is one of the few, transforming into a Grim. I hope with the influence of your familiar, you may have a similar magic form. Even when not transformed, you may benefit from the magic of your animagus form. Eventually we will see.”

Timmy had popped in quietly and set up trays of food near each of them. The smell was beginning to be a distraction.

“Ah, very good, thank you, Timmy.” Albus said, wafting the vapors from a delicious bowl of soup towards himself, “Please, eat, and then perhaps spend the rest of the day relaxing. Harry, I encourage you to reexamine your memories of your parents and the night of their death. If you want, tomorrow I will take you to their graves. I must discuss today’s confrontation with an auror. Kingsley Shacklebolt agreed to perform the interview. Before you leave, if you would let me extract your memories of the fight, I think we can perhaps avoid you needing to be questioned.”

They ate and then before they left, Albus extracted copies of the memories of the Diagon Alley fight, placing them in his pensieve.

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January 19

Wearing their best black robes and cloaks, cleaned from the day before, Harry and Hermione again trekked to the Headmaster’s office, a virtual repeat of Saturday morning, but with a more emotional air. Harry carried a very young fuzzy white phoenix tucked into his shirt pocket. Dumbledore met them in his office, dressed in very dignified dark purple silk robes with a heavy texture and a subtle hint of golden thread shining through in places. His beard was gathered in a golden ring and he wore a cap, similar to those worn by graduating scholars in the Muggle world.

“Hello, Harry.” Dumbledore said, “Hermione. Are you ready?”

“I am, Headmaster.” Harry nodded, Hermione offering her support right next to him.

“I do not know why I postponed this.” Dumbledore said, “I think I might have wanted to avoid the deaths of your parents being the defining event of your life. I much prefer you being thought of as Harry the Quidditch player than Harry the orphan. Then I will admit it may have slipped my mind. I have accumulated a number of responsibilities and it can be difficult to maintain each of them. I offer no excuses; however, I only hope that this will help you now.”

Albus held out a portkey. Harry, with a glimpse at Hermione, touched it and they disappeared. They reappeared on a small village lane. Hermione pressed herself as closely to Harry as she could, offering her support and in the winter chill, her body heat.

“Harry, the first thing I wish to show you is your house.” Professor Dumbledore said.

They walked along coming to a ruined stone cottage, separated from the lane by a low stone wall. A small sign explained it had been left as a monument to the Potters. Harry looked in silence, exploring his memories. Hermione looked over the cottage, trying to memorize every line and angle. Her fiancée, her best friend, her soul mate was born here! Despite the relatively modest size, the cottage had a huge significance in her life and in wizarding history. Even with the years since the confrontation, powerful magic still lurked.

They slowly walked on. They came to the graveyard and walked through the gate. Dumbledore led them to a single headstone of gleaming white marble.

“I will leave you.” Albus said, “Stay as long as you want.”

Harry read the gravestone. It had both his parents names, dates, and a quote,

“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.”

“It’s from the bible, Harry.” Hermione said, “She did it. She defeated death not for herself, but for you. I can’t imagine how she felt, how much she loved you.”

“I wish they could have met you.” Harry whispered, “I used to wish that I remembered them, but now with occlumency and a pensieve, I have relived every memory of them. They really did love me. I just wish they hadn’t had to die.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry.” Hermione said, squeezing him, “They’d be really proud of you.”

“I think they’d be really proud of me when they met you.” Harry said, looking down into Hermione’s brown eyes. Her curly hair fell over the shoulders of her fine winter cloak. Her cheeks were red with the cold and her eyes were bright. All the love she felt for him as apparent in her eyes as her aura almost radiated love, support, and protectiveness.

“Mum, dad,” Harry said, clearing his throat and addressing his parents’ graves awkwardly, “this is Hermione. We’re engaged. I’m going to marry her this Spring. You’d like her, she’s the smartest witch of her age, everyone says so. I think she’s a lot like you were, mum. I wish you could be here and know her, but I hope it helps knowing I’m in good hands.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” Hermione said, speaking clearly and unembarrassed, “I wish I had met you. I almost feel like I have through Harry. You’d be so proud of him. He’s a great wizard… he’s taught me so much about friendship, about bravery, and about love.”

She trailed off as she cried a little, mourning for her other half and the life he should have had. Strangely, her emotion seemed to settle him and he comforted her until she stopped.

“I’m sorry…” Hermione started.

“Stop,” Harry said with a hint of a smile, “thank you. You knew I couldn’t, so you cried for me. You always know what I need. Come on, let’s go. I got what I needed here.”

Hermione gestured and a wreath of white roses and lilies formed against the headstone.

“They won’t freeze and they don’t die.” She said, “They’ll be there until someone moves them.”

“Thank you.”

They walked on, moving to where they could see Dumbledore. He didn’t seem to notice them as they walked up. He was kneeling in front of a stone marked Kendra and Ariana Dumbledore. It too had a quote, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

Harry eventually cleared his throat, not wanting to spy on his master.

“Ah, Harry.” Dumbledore said sadly, “Did you have a good visit?”

“I did, Professor.” Harry said, “You were right. This helped.”

“I thought it might.” Dumbledore said, “I come here from time to time, myself. It helps me remember my priorities.”

He stood, dusting off the knees of his robes.

“Well, then, let us be off.” Dumbledore said, his voice thick. Harry and Hermione decided silently not to breach his silence, although both noticed. They each seized the portkey and returned to Hogwarts.

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January

Hermione, having finished the Horcrux map project, focused on the Harry-Horcrux problem. Given how little information was available on Horcruxes, it was difficult to proceed. She had been granted access to the Headmaster’s private library and she had gotten Dumbledore’s permission to speak to Bill Weasley, as Horcruxes were thought to have originated in the Middle East or Northern Africa, so his knowledge of the dark magic of that area would be invaluable. He might also be able to get more books without arousing the same suspicion that Dumbledore or Hogwarts as an institution would.

Harry spent much of his time outside of class working with Alex and Moody. As an experienced professional duelist, Alex was above auror-level in his knowledge of wizarding combat, but he had focused so much on single combat that he had a bit of a weakness when it came to multiple opponent encounters. Mad-Eye, as a Master Auror with a legendary reputation, was less focused on single combat against other well-trained opponents, but had endless experience fighting handfuls to dozens of street thug-level dark wizards. Harry had to learn both, because he’d be facing Voldemort one day, one of the best trained and most powerful dark wizards ever known, but to get there he had to go through Voldemort’s minions. Most of the Death Eaters were poorly trained, despite some exceptions like Bellatrix Lestrange, who’d benefitted from the Black Family wealth, tutors, and extensive library of the dark arts. However, while poorly trained, the Death Eaters had numbers and Moody’s intelligence was that Voldemort was busy recruiting while the Ministry hid their head in the sand.

The two skilled combatants took the time to fill in Harry’s weaknesses. Alex had exposed that Harry wasn’t good at dispelling transfigurations wandlessly, which was one way he’d beaten him during their first session. He quickly corrected that. Moody taught him to spread out spells, so they hit weaker, but over a greater area. A powerful wizard could cast a wide-area stunner to drop multiple opponents who weren’t shielding. Nobody was powerful enough to spread the Killing Curse, or the death toll would have been unimaginable.

Watching Alex and Moody argue over the finer points of combat was itself a learning experience. Both were extremely knowledgeable and after a brief period when they tested each other, both quickly showed respect for the other. However, that didn’t mean they blindly agreed. Arguments ranged the gamut from what shield was best to whether it was better to fight with two wands simultaneously or to keep the spare as a hidden backup. Harry would sit and watch them, learning more from their disagreements than he ever had from DADA class, even with a real professor.

After seeing the brief fight in Diagon Alley in a pensieve, Flitwick assigned a drill where Harry had to levitate stones in the way of stinging hexes cast to be similar in power to Killing Curses, so they required the same thickness of stone to block. He showed Harry how to levitate, summon, and banish stones almost instinctively. Dumbledore taught Harry how to conjure or make stones from thin air, to insure he always had a way to block. It was a very power intensive method, but for someone of Harry’s innate power, not impossible and very, very useful. Given how often Death Eaters seemed to lead with the unblockable unforgiveables, this drill quickly became the most constant of their practices. Hermione joined in every time, determined that if a Killing Curse could be blocked, it would be.

DADA itself was like a siege. Harry didn’t submit to Umbridge, but neither could he force her to teach. He and Hermione had quickly memorized the assigned text, as worthless as it was, but he continued to receive failing grades on his theoretical essays, even though they were well-written and then carefully edited by Hermione. Harry didn’t care, as he knew that Dumbledore would eventually fix it without letting him fail. It would be too ridiculous to for the Headmaster to be teaching him as an apprentice towards a defense mastery, but then allow one of his professors to fail him on fifth year DADA. Something had to give.

The Defense Association or Dumbledore’s Army was progressing well. As everyone got better, Harry found he had more time to devote to tutoring those who were lagging behind. The dueling portion became very popular and motivated the more competitive members more than Harry’s feedback could. The teenage boys had become fanatical about the dueling rankings, tracking it as closely as Quidditch statistics. The girls were surprisingly also into it, too, but they seemed to use it to settle social disputes. While it wasn’t segregated by gender, it seemed boys tended to challenge each other and girls challenged each other. Harry ruled the young men’s standings and Hermione the women’s, both undefeated despite some brave challenges.

Harry explored the bond with Hedwig. The soul bond between he and Hermione was, after the fact, predictable. They had been completing each other’s sentences almost since they’d known each other. Again, in hindsight, the bond between Harry and Hedwig was just as predictable. He’d always been able to communicate with her when she was an owl. Now, as a phoenix, that communication was even clearer. Not the same as with Hermione, but he found he could easily communicate with Hedwig and his friendship with his first companion continued to grow.

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Feb 1

“Hermione,” Harry said, “are you awake?”

They were together in a vast four poster bed in the Room of Requirement.

“You know I am. You can feel my mind.” Hermione answered, looking up from where she’d been pillowing her head on his bare chest, “Why so nervous?”

“You’d think I’d be better at this, since I have a connection directly to your mind, your feelings, but I guess you can only do so much…” Harry said, “I want to do something special for you for Valentine’s Day, but I don’t know what to do.”

Hermione smiled, “That’s really sweet, Harry! You’ve been as busy as I was third year and you don’t have a time turner. I half thought you’d forget Valentine’s Day.”

“Well, at least I didn’t screw up that bad!” Harry laughed, “I just don’t know what to do. I asked around and a lot of the older guys think girls like Madame Puddifoot’s, but I looked in it last time we were in Hogsmeade and it looks silly. I don’t think you’d like it at all.”

“Well, that’s romantic, right there.” Hermione said, tracing lazy circles on Harry’s chest, “Knowing what I like and don’t like shows you actually care about me and don’t just lump me in with all the other girls. You’ll come up with something and I’ll like it. Just don’t plan it to be all day. I’ve scheduled time with Rita. I want her to be seen interviewing you. We need to hide that we’ve worked with her in private and she’s almost ready to release her story. She feels the time is almost right and the Lovegoods agree.”

“Ok, when is that?”

“At 1 p.m.” Hermione said.

“So we’ve got all morning?” Harry said, talking about the fourteenth, but with a cheeky reference to their current morning as well.

“Yes, you’ve got all morning.” Hermione smirked.

“Good!” Harry said, flipping her over.

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Feb 14

Hermione woke to the smell of roses, heavy in the air of the fifth year girls’ dorm. She looked around and there were dozens of vases, hundreds of roses on every surface around her bed. A handful of vases floated along under their own power, like the candles in the Great Hall. She felt a huge smile as she realized how much effort it would have taken to sneak that many flowers in to the girls’ dorm without being caught by someone with which you share a mind link.

“Are all those yours?” Lavender asked.

“I think so.” Hermione offered, “I mean, they are around my bed.”

“You’re so lucky.” Parvati said, “Harry is so sweet!”

“I thought everyone thought he was a nutter, lying about Voldemort?” Hermione asked with a smirk.

“We ARE Gryffindors.” Lavender said, “There may have been a few that wondered for a while, what with all the Prophet said, but of all the things that boy is good at, lying isn’t one of them and he’s never really seemed to be fond of attention, despite what Snape says.”

“Good to know.” Hermione said with a genuine smile.

She got out of bed, stretched, showered, dressed, and carefully brushed her teeth before casting a wandless non-verbal teeth cleaning charm. She knew that one or the other was probably plenty, but old habits die hard. She walked down the stairs, only to see a certain messy raven-haired boy with the most penetrating emerald eyes standing at the bottom in his nice robes with a single perfect red rose.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hermione!” Harry said, smiling, “This rose is everlasting. It will always be fresh and new, like my love for you. I have to admit, I copied your charm, but I think I did a good job with it.”

“It looks like you did it perfectly.” Hermione said, smelling the single perfect red rose, noting it had a delicious smell, very noticeable but not cloying.

Harry hugged her and gave her a sweet kiss, not too much to embarrass her in the common room, but enough to whet her appetite for more. He took her hand in his and waited for her to walk with him down to the Great Hall.

“Oh, Harry, you did well!” Hermione said, beaming, “You’re definitely getting good at this.”

“Well, I have to admit, it’s harder to be uncomfortable around a girl I share my head with.” Harry said with an endearing lopsided grin.

They walked out of the portrait hole. Harry missed the sighs of the other Gryffindor girls, but Hermione heard and smiled a bit wider.

They walked hand in hand to the Great Hall. Their normal seats stood out from the surrounding House table due to a fine white linen tablecloth someone had placed ahead of time. There were three vases sitting empty. Harry handed her to her seat, holding the vase so she could put her rose inside.

“What are the others for?” Hermione asked.

“You’ll see.” Harry grinned, “I didn’t want to make my mates look bad. Neville helped by growing the roses. Ron…well, Ron provided moral support.”

Hermione looked around and saw Neville walking with Ginny, a similar rose in her hand. She smiled brightly when she saw the table and happily sat, placing her rose in the vase in front of her accustomed seat. Ron walked in last, with Luna. She didn’t always sit with them, since she was a Ravenclaw, but she sometimes crossed house lines and did this morning.

“Good morning,” Luna said happily, “I decided I like getting flowers. They may attract Wrackspurts, but today they remind me of Ronald and that makes me happy!”

As they were settling down to eat, an owl dropped a card, likely a Valentine, for Ginny, quickly followed by another bearing a card for Luna. Hermione felt a little disappointed that Harry hadn’t gotten her a card too. Suddenly there was a flash of fire and a white phoenix with just a trace of black on the underside of some of her feathers appeared.

“Hedwig!” Hermione squealed, as the phoenix dropped off a card for her and trilled an uplifting and vaguely romantic song.

All the girls in the Great Hall sighed. An owl bearing a card was romantic, but a phoenix bearing a card, that was godlike.

They finished breakfast and the six of them walked outside. One of the Hogwarts coaches was harnessed and a young wizard stood next to it. When he saw them approaching, he opened the door.

“Harry, how did you manage to get one of the horseless carriages of Hogwarts?” Hermione asked in awe.

“I just had to talk the Headmaster into giving me a permission slip to borrow the coach, then I hired the driver, he lives in Hogsmeade.” Harry answered.

“They’re not horseless.” Luna said dreamily, “Well, I suppose they’re not technically horses, so maybe you could say that…”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look, then finished getting into the coach. The driver closed the door, then took them to Hogsmeade. Neville and Ginny got out at Zonkos. Ron and Luna went to Honeyduke’s. When Harry stayed in the coach, Hermione started to wonder where they were going.

“Ok, Harry, talk.” She said with a fake tough-guy look, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see!” Harry laughed, “Don’t be so impatient!”

The coach stopped in front of Tomes and Scrolls. The driver got down from his seat and met opened the door.

“How romantic!” Hermione said sincerely, “See, I told you you’d know what to do.”

Harry stepped ahead and opened the door.

“Ah, Miss Granger?” said a prematurely balding bookstore clerk. Once she nodded her head, surprised they addressed her by name, he continued, “I am John Scrivener. Please, come this way.”

He led her to a backroom, obviously not routinely open to customers.

“Mr. Potter asked to have all the books added since your last visit here for your pleasure. Any you want, just set them here and we’ll take care of them.” John said.

“Harry!” Hermione said, “Oooh, you do know me! Don’t think I’m not going to look out there, though. I may have missed some before.”

They spent the morning in the bookstore. Hermione set aside a huge stack of books. Once she was done shopping, Mr. Scrivener shrank them, put featherlight charms, and put them in a tiny bookshelf the size of a single hardback book.

“Once you get back to school, just enlarge the lot. They’ll stay on the shelf nicely.” John said.

Harry and Hermione walked hand in hand to the Three Broomsticks. As soon as they walked in, they saw Ron and Luna already seated at a table.

“Oi, Harry!” Ron called, “Over here.”

Harry gave a nod and walked over.

“Nev not here, yet?” Harry asked.

Luna giggled. “No, I think Ginny wanted him to take her to Madame Puddifoot’s. She’d heard it was the most romantic spot from some of the older girls.”

“Hmmm…never heard of it.” Harry said, “What do you all want? I’ll buy.”

He came back with a tray full of Butterbeers, handing them to each of his friends. He opened Hermione’s for her.

Madame Rosmerta came to their table with a tray of stew in bread loaf trenchers. She brought another tray with roasted chicken wings and legs for the group to share.

“Ron, have you ever had hot wings?” Hermione asked, after eating one of the small roast chicken wings.

“What do you mean? These are pretty warm still.” Ron said with his mouth half full.

“No, it’s a Muggle thing.” Hermione answered, “They’re like this, but with a spicy sauce.”

“No, but it sounds good. Maybe my mum could make something like that. My dad would love it if you told him the Muggles made it up.” Ron said.

They talked and laughed over lunch, but Hermione carefully kept track of time and had Rosmerta take the dishes and give the table a wipe ten minutes until one o’clock. Hermione kept an eye on the door and immediately saw Rita when she walked in.

“Remember, Ron, stick to the message!” she hissed as the reporter walked over.

Despite the fact that they’d planned this for about six months and had already given Rita all the information she needed to write her story, including showing her pensieve memories of all the events, Hermione was still nervously acting like this was the only discussion they would have with the reporter. Her act leant verisimilitude to the overall illusion.

“How have the stories in the Daily Prophet made you feel, Harry? Betrayed? Misunderstood?” Rita said in a too sweet voice that was only tolerable because they had all heard Umbridge’s much worse version.

“Angry, Rita.” Harry said, “Mildly amused that this is what passes for news in the Wizarding World, but mostly angry. The worst terrorist and Dark Lord of the last five decades returns and instead of using the time to prepare for him, our world is blaming a teenage boy and calling me an attention seeking prat! This is all despite the fact that I’m already much more famous than I really care to be for surviving the Killing Curse and somehow being involved in his disappearance when I was a baby. So I’m angry. I want the Wizarding world to wake up and get ready to kick Voldemort’s arse!”

Rita looked almost ill when he said Voldemort’s name, but she quickly gathered herself, showing her real talents as one of the foremost journalists of the Wizarding world, such as it was.

“So you stick to your story that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back? You stand by what Dumbledore’s been saying, that you were the sole witness?” Rita asked, carefully writing down his answers with her Quick Quotes Quill. Harry noticed Hermione was carefully watching what was written. “Who have you told?”

“Yes, of course I stick to my story! That’s what you do when you’re telling the truth. I wish it weren’t the truth.” Harry said, “I wasn’t the sole witness. Hermione was there. She apparated from Hogwarts, which dozens of people witnessed, and helped me escape. I told Minister Fudge that same night.”

“Oh, wait,” Harry added as if he’d just remembered something, “it wasn’t even just me and Hermione, either. There were a dozen Death Eaters there at the time, too. Want their names?”

“Oh, yes.” Rita said, her eyes alight, “Very much. The headline will read ‘Potter Accuses…’”.

Harry and Hermione together told the entire story of the night of the third task. Hermione’s brain was like a scientific instrument and she had recorded all her observations, despite the terror and stress. With the changes since her bond with Harry and the newfound cool under fire traits she gained from him, she was the ideal combat correspondent. Harry, having gained her recall and mental organizational skills, enhanced by Mastery level Occlumency, was also incredibly detailed with his description of events. Rita looked rapt and all of them noticed others drift by more than would be usual, even in the crowded pub. They were getting the attention they needed.

“The only problem,” Rita said once she’d written the entire story down, “the Prophet won’t print it. They don’t want to portray Harry in a good light these days. It goes against the public mood.”

“You mean it goes against Fudge’s mood.” Hermione said dangerously.

“It amounts to the same thing.” Rita whispered, leaning closer, “The Daily Prophet prints what people want to read. Harry as an honest reporter of such a terrifying event is not that.”

“My dad thinks it’s an awful paper.” Luna said.

“Your dad?” Rita asked, “I’m guessing he runs some local newspaper?”

“No.” Luna said, “He’s the editor of the Quibbler.”

“The Quibbler? That’s where we’re going to publish this story?” Rita said incredulously, “Nobody will believe it then. It’ll be the end of my credibility!”

“You have credibility?” Harry whispered. Rita glared at him.

“Maybe for some,” Hermione said, “but not for others. There are gaping holes in the Ministry’s version of recent events, such as the Azkaban breakout. We encountered Bellatrix Lestrange and nobody reported it at all. With the gaping holes that already exist and with the events that are likely to happen more and more frequently as Voldemort continues to consolidate his power, it will quickly become obvious that we’re telling the truth.”

“Well, we’ll see.” Rita said, “Either this will destroy my reputation or build it above my wildest dreams. Miss Lovegood, I’d like to meet with your father to discuss the publication of my story. I want to insure it is done properly. Would you please convey my request and send me a meeting time and place by owl?”

“Of course, Miss Skeeter.” Luna said dreamily, “He’ll be happy to meet with you. He’s always interested in unusual creatures.”

Rita sniffed at that, gathered her things, and departed. Hermione was pleased to see all the eyes in the pub follow her out.

“That went well.” She stated confidently.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Week of Feb 16

The next week went largely according to Harry’s new routine with some interesting differences.

Monday, Dumbledore had directed him to accompany Hermione to meet with Professor McGonagall. Harry and Albus had reached the point of Harry mastering very simple conjuration of stone blocks, so they weren’t interrupting any of their own work together.

“Come in, come in.” Professor McGonagall said, gesturing the two into her office. Sirius already sat inside.

“Sirius?” Harry said surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Surprised?” Sirius said with his dog-like grin, “You’ll soon see why I’m here, pup. Have a seat. Minerva is going to tell you what we’re up to.”

Harry and Hermione took their seats. Hermione was almost vibrating with excitement. She’d clearly already figured it out.

“The Headmaster has decided it is time for you to start on your animagus transformations.” Minerva said, “We had decided to wait for certain semi-anticipated events that have now come to pass. The studies you have both already undergone will make this much easier, but it will still be a grueling path. I have asked Sirius Black to help teach, because he and his friends successfully completed this transformation as students and without formal assistance, an almost unheard of feat.”

“More importantly,” Sirius said, grinning even wider, “we documented it. We had gotten in the habit of documenting everything we did so we could recreate our best pranks. We very thoroughly documented this process, because it was on the edge of our capabilities and we made many, many mistakes. I hope we can help you avoid those.”

“I have reviewed their documentation and made my own inputs. To avoid false humility, I daresay the resulting guide is probably the best work extant on animagus transformation.” Professor McGonagall said, “We’ve gone through the process step by step and decided the best way for you to follow. For instance, we considered having Severus brew the potion in advance, given his skill as a Potion Master, but there is a slight advantage in the subjects brewing their own potions and given Hermione’s skill as a brewer, we think this is well within your capability. However, we did have Severus review the recipe and instructions and he was able to optimize that step, as well. We have all the ingredients here for you.”

She went on to give them an overview of the process. It was a mixture between careful, almost scientific potion brewing and transfiguration spellcraft and an intuitive inner-process of understanding the self. Their constant learning would greatly assist with the science of the transformation while their work with occlumency and their experience with the bond would help with the intuitive piece. They really were ideally positioned to pursue the animagus transformation.

“I will dismiss you now.” McGonagall said, “I want you to read the book carefully. If you were to memorize it, it would not be unjustified, because we have carefully edited it to make it the most concise, most efficient path to the transformation. The only part we could not fully optimize was the inner understanding, because that hinges on you. So read the book, then spend your time tonight before sleep meditating on the transformation.”

Harry called Hedwig. Grasping his tail feathers, he and Hermione disappeared only to reappear in the empty hallway in front of the Room of Requirement. With the map, they routinely checked their destinations so they didn’t give away their secrets.

Inside, the room was set up for comfortable reading and meditation. They both settled down and were able to quickly read the book. Harry had always been a good reader, but since his bond with Hermione, he was now incredibly fast and retained everything he read, much as she had always done. It helped that this book was very clear, having been written by students before their fifth year and then edited and perfected by a Transfiguration Mistress who had also completed the transformation. The recipe for the Animagus potion was also obviously carefully crafted, including some of the techniques they’d learned in their efforts to perfect their skills. Despite his sometimes poor teaching ability, Snape was indisputably a master of his craft.

“Wow, I thought it would be harder than that.” Harry said, as he finished reading seconds after Hermione.

“I think the hard part might be the research.” Hermione offered, “Can you imagine having to figure that all out from scattered sources that aren’t considered appropriate for Hogwarts students to read in the first place? The other hard part is likely the intuitive piece. If you can’t understand yourself, then you’re not going to complete that easily, no matter how smart you are. How hard do you think it was for Pettigrew to accept the qualities about himself that led to his form being a rat? Or Rita being an insect? That has to be hard to accept.”

“Good point.” Harry said, hoping he wasn’t going to be a bug or a snake, “I was thinking about the meditation. I think we might have luck if we settle ourselves in our bond with Hedwig helping.”

“What made you think of that?” Hermione asked puzzled.

“I don’t know.” Harry said, “It just feels right.”

Hermione tried to think of an objection and couldn’t. The song of the phoenix was known to bolster courage and calm anxiety. It might well help them meditate.

“Ok.” Hermione shrugged, “It can’t hurt and if it does, we just do it next time without Hedwig’s help.”

They settled down comfortably, holding hands. They were quickly able to drop into the clear mind state that they used for occlumency and open the bond as wide as possible, both things they practiced nightly. They didn’t push magic through the bond, not needing the arousal side effects to distract from their meditation.

Harry explored his innermost being. He thought about the things that made him unique. He had always been told he was just like his father and when he’d produced a Patronus that had obviously come out. However, as he thought about it now, he realized that wasn’t exactly true. His father loved attention and he tended to shy away from it. They were both leaders, but he wasn’t as outwardly confident as his father. He was protective, like his father, a trait that probably contributed to the stag animagus, the guardian of the herd, but he was also a survivor, his entire reputation being based on living through the Killing Curse. Living through the Killing Curse…surviving conflicts with the greatest Dark Lord that no adult Wizard should have survived, let alone a child…each year ending with him in the hospital wing, unconscious, waking after days to return to his usual exuberant good health. He was powerful magically and loved flying. He worried for a few moments that a cockroach might be the perfect form for him, but he quickly realized he was already the human equivalent of the Phoenix, rising to become known as the Boy-Who-Lived from the ashes of his parents’ murder. Every year he had a similar near-death experience, only to rise from the hospital wing, reborn.

Hermione initially thought she’d be something like an owl. The symbol of Athena and Minerva, the owl represented wisdom. Only as she thought of it, it didn’t fit, just like her thought prior to her sorting that she belonged in Ravenclaw was wrong. She was too protective to fit into the house of the detached scholars. She lived to protect Harry. She’d tried to defend Buckbeak and had saved him in the end. She was too fiery, although it was slow to emerge, but she remembered punching Draco in the face when he’d laughed about Buckbeak. Damn, that had felt good! She’d faced the Basilisk, the first to do so purposefully, and while petrified, her knowledge had given Harry what he’d needed to defeat the threat to Hogwarts and she’d come back, as from the dead. She could feel Harry’s realization of his own form and she realized that while it might not have been as natural for her, her connection to him made it so. She could never be something different from her mate. She was, like him, a phoenix.

They opened their eyes to see the grin on each other’s faces. Hedwig was trilling a triumphant song.

“I know!” they said in unison, the verbal acknowledgement completely unnecessary as each felt the others’ certainty.

Looking at a candle they’d lit before they’d started and seeing it almost completely burned down, they realized the process had taken much longer than it had felt like. The Room of Requirement quickly shifted to their customary bedroom and they quickly fell asleep cuddled together.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Tuesday was a busy day, but they managed to start their potions in the Room of Requirement before going to breakfast. In the break between Double Charms and Double Transfiguration, they added the next components and stirred, before heading on to Professor McGonagall’s class. She greeted them with an uplifted eyebrow and both nodded, knowing what she was asking. She came by while they were practicing the raven to goblet transformation, a very difficult transfiguration, but one both Harry and Hermione could do perfectly.

“You realized your inner shape?” Minerva whispered.

“We both did.” Harry smirked.

“We’re going to be Phoenices.” Hermione stated, pleased.

“Very good.” Minerva said, “Albus had hoped, but we didn’t dare dream it would turn out so well. Excellent, excellent.” Then, in a louder voice, “Ten points to Gryffindor for an excellent transfiguration, Potter, Granger.”

In care of magical creatures, Harry whispered to Hagrid that he wanted to show him something. After class was over, he summoned Hedwig.

“I thought you might have seen her on Valentine’s Day, but I knew you’d want to see her more closely.” Harry said, “Do you recognize her?”

“Recognize this ‘ere phoenix?” Hagrid rumbled, “Where would I’ve seen one ‘em before, Harry, except Fawkes of course?”

“Do you recognize the color?” Harry asked with a smile, “You bought her for me, after all.”

“Hedwig? No!” Hagrid said incredulously.

“Yes!” Harry grinned and told him the entire story, “So in a way, you saved my life again, Hagrid.”

“When did I save it the first time, Harry?” Hagrid asked.

“When you took me away from the Dursleys.” Harry said, “Trust me.”

He had to hurry to reach Herbology without being late, but Professor Sprout wasn’t a stickler.

That night, after dueling practice with Flitwick and Alex, they returned to the Room of Requirement and bottled their potions. They set them on a window sill that conveniently appeared for them, as they felt the sunlight during the day and the moonlight at night would strengthen the potions for their particular transformation. Certain specialized ingredients had to be selected after they knew what forms they were going to achieve. Luckily, they had ready access to phoenix feathers now, so powdered phoenix feather and phoenix ash was not a hardship.

Wednesday, before and after the DA meeting they practiced the transfiguration spells that would be required. They were hugely complicated and self transfiguration was very difficult. Using dummy wands to ensure they didn’t accidentally cast it, they practiced the incantations and the movements, evaluating each other and striving for perfection.

“Do you feel bad not telling?” Harry asked.

“Not telling who?” Hermione said, “Oh, not telling Ron?”

“Yeah, not telling Ron.” Harry said, “He’s going to hate us when he realizes we did it without him.”

“He’s doing a lot better lately. He really does take his oath seriously.” Hermione said, “He won’t hate us. We’ll pass on the guides and help them complete their transformations. For now, I think it’s appropriate we do it first. Then we’ll be able to help.”

“Ok, as long as you don’t think we’re being terrible friends.” Harry said.

“No, I don’t think he could keep up with the pace we’re doing it on.” Hermione said, “He hasn’t been working as hard as we have on occlumency. The bond did a lot to help me with my meditation. He definitely won’t be able to brew the potion himself. He’d likely get himself hurt if we tried to make him do it at our pace. Or we’d have to slow down to accommodate him. We’ll help him. Don’t worry.”

Thursday, they carefully cast a spell to protect the potions and then put them in the fireplace with a roaring fire going. The essence of the fire would aid their particular transformation, but it was stressful putting that much work on the line when they used tongs to put the vials into the heart of the blazing fire. When they pulled them out, they were glowing a fiery red and didn’t lose that characteristic even after the vials had mostly cooled. The potion itself radiated a constant warmth. Without summoning, Hedwig appeared and trilled at Harry. Harry looked at him.

“Really?” Harry asked.

Hedwig nodded insistently.

“Well, I guess I could see how that might help.” Harry agreed. He tied the potions onto Hedwig’s legs. After they were both securely fashioned, Hedwig disappeared in a flash of flame.

“She’s going to transport them around all day. She says it will help.” Harry said.

Hermione nodded her head. The more exposure to sources of magic similar to the phoenix, the better and nothing was more similar than the phoenix herself.

During occlumency, Hermione couldn’t resist.

“Did you ever try the animagus transformation, Professor Snape?”

“Hmmm…something the know-it-all doesn’t know?” Professor Snape hissed, “How unusual. Now, unlike yourselves, I am very good at keeping secrets. It is handy…in my line of work. Of course, you’re welcome to try to take the information from my mind if you think you can, Granger.”

Hermione just shook her head and continued with their practice. She caught Snape smirking a few times after that, but just let it go.

After their work, she brought out the vials.

“Would you be willing to evaluate these, see if you think they’re suitable?” Hermione asked.

Snape quirked an eyebrow upwards. “Did you make them according to my instructions?”

“Of course!” Hermione said.

“Did you watch Potter make his?” Snape asked, with a smirk.

“Yes, not that I needed to.” Hermione huffed.

“Then I’m sure they’re fine. Despite being an insufferable know-it-all, you have managed to learn something from me. I would almost call you competent.” Snape said, “However, for all of our peace of mind, I will test them.”

He took a drop from each and went through an elaborate process.

“Ah, the basic potion was well made. We gave you the finest ingredients and you did a fine job of combining them. Essence of sunlight and moonlight, very appropriate… essence of fire, also well chosen… Phoenix Fire itself, well, I wouldn’t have imagined that. Yes, if any potion will serve, this one will serve. I could perhaps have done slightly better, but the fact that it was made by your own hands means more in this case.”

Snape handed the vials back.

“Oh and I couldn’t tell which you made and which Potter made.” Snape said with a less sarcastic quality than usual, “Perhaps he is his mother’s son after all.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Thank you, Professor.”

Snape nodded and waved his hand, obviously dismissing them.

Friday, they had independent study time all day. They asked the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and Madame Pomphrey to meet them at the Room of Requirement.

“Are you ready then?” Minerva asked as they all gathered in the Room of Requirement, this time chosen to be a wide open ritual space.

“We are.” Hermione said, “I was hesitant to have everyone here for obvious reasons, but we decided the increased chances of success were worth a little embarrassment.”

“Probably a good choice, child.” Minerva said with a smile.

“Should I summon Fawkes?” Albus asked.

“Yes, Professor, we think that would help.” Hermione said, “Do you agree?”

“I think so.” Dumbledore said, “Although having two phoenices singing at once is so unheard of that there are no recorded instances, so it’s hard to say for sure.”

Harry and Hermione carefully inscribed the protective circle for their ritual working using phoenix ash, powdered feather, and a pinch of gold dust for the ink. They had decided to use a single circle due to the bond, which while riskier in some ways would increase the chance for success.

Once the circle was complete, they looked around. The others, each experienced ritualists, had spaced themselves equally around the circle, forming a triangle, each imaginary leg of which was tangent to the protective circle. Albus was at the peak, Fawkes on his shoulder. Hedwig was within the protective circle, having refused to be separated from his companion.

Harry and Hermione shrugged off their robes, wearing nothing beneath. They would have been embarrassed if they weren’t so deeply in a meditative state as to be almost unaware of their surroundings. Together they swallowed the potions, which burned more than firewhiskey going down their throats, but generated a warmth in their bellies and a sensation very similar to felix felicis if they’d known what that felt like. They began to glow very slightly a red-gold color.

They’d considered using their spare wands, given they were matched, but they’d decided the phoenix feather core of Harry’s original would contribute more to the success than the matched set of wands would, so they were each using their original wand. The discussion had spurred an idea of learning enough wand lore to craft their own wands with Hedwig feather cores or, if they were successful tonight, even cores made from their own feathers. They’d have to talk to Ollivander to learn whether such an idea was practical.

“Ego verto ad Phoenix!” they chanted together, “Ego mutare me ad phoenix. Ego verto ad Phoenix. Ego mutare ad phoenix.”

With each incantation, the magical power built. The two phoenices trilled powerfully in unison, seeming to harmonize with each other and the incantation. The magic continued to build around them and the red-gold glow somehow mixed with their own auras, so they looked like they were on fire. The magic was visible even without auramancy. They raised their voices, now shouting the incantations. The phoenices trilled louder. The sounds seemed to increase in strength, reverberating throughout the Room of Requirement and, if they’d realized, throughout the castle with a very quiet sound as if the stones had a heartbeat.

The light became stronger and stronger, eventually causing the observers to squint, unable to look directly at the two in the circle. Hedwig launched herself off Harry’s shoulder and flew around the circumference of the ritual circle, trilling louder and louder. The sound grew stronger and stronger.

Suddenly, Harry and Hermione burst into flame.

“What?” Poppy yelled, barely able to see into the bright light, “Albus, we have to stop this!”

“Do nothing!” Dumbledore thundered, his voice far from the kindly grandfather voice he usually used.

With a flash brighter than they’d ever seen, the light died completely. The room settled into complete blackness except Hedwig’s white light and Fawkes’ golden red glow.

“What happened?” Poppy asked, “Did it work?”

Dumbledore gestured and the room was once again lit. In the circle, there were two piles of ash where Harry and Hermione had stood.

“No…” Minerva said, her tone that of shock and disbelief, “no, it can’t have gone that wrong.”

“Watch.” Dumbledore said, “Remember the magic of the phoenix.”

From each pile there was movement. The ash cascaded down and from the center of each pile, a small head emerged. Two featherless chicks stepped out of the piles of ash and shook their little wings.

“They did it!” Minerva shouted.

“Oh, thank Merlin.” Poppy sighed, starting to sink down, settling into a chair Dumbledore quickly conjured for her.

The two chicks walked around the circle for a moment. They found each other in the center and bumped up against each other, making little cheeping noises. After celebrating their transformation, they returned to their normal state. With a wave, they each summoned their robes and clothed themselves.

“Wow.” Harry said, stunned.

“You can say that again.” Hermione laughed, “I feel all new.”

“Me, too.” Harry said, “I feel better than I’ve ever felt.”

“Is it gone?” Hermione asked, then sighed as she shifted her vision into auramancy and saw the blackness around his scar was still there, “It’s smaller, like it’s getting worn down, but it’s still there. I had hoped it wouldn’t be able to tolerate this.”

“Don’t worry.” Harry said reassuringly, “I don’t think it liked our bonding at all and I don’t think it likes this. You’ll come up with a way to get rid of it.”

“I will.” Hermione said, assuring herself as much as him.

“Well done.” Albus said, “All my hopes are coming to fruition. We’ll have to see what significance this has, but I think you’ve done something very meaningful today. Now, I suggest you get some rest. I believe Harry has a game tomorrow.”

“That sounds good.” Harry said, “It’s still early, but I think I can probably sleep til tomorrow.”

They separated from the Professors and walked to the common room, since there were too many people to travel by phoenix without causing a fuss. Harry was right. He was asleep when his head hit the pillow and didn’t wake until the next morning.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: Oops, big mistake in my last chapter. I think I put December 18 before the trip to Gringotts, but it should have read January. Sorry!

This is going out without extensive editing so I can get it to readers for the weekend. I hope you enjoy it. Please point out mistakes.

Go read “30 Minutes That Changed Everything” by Radaslab. I wish I could write that well, but I’m so happy some people can and they publish it for me to read!

I wasn’t at all sure whether it’s ever been documented what Hermione’s favorite flower was. If anyone knows, tell me, but I went with roses.

26. Flight of the Phoenix

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t make money on my writing. The characters and the world belong to JKR and those she sold it to. I appreciate being able to play in her world.

Chapter 26: Flight of the Phoenix

Feb 21

Harry woke up feeling wonderful. His sense of being reborn had lingered after his animagus transformation. A niggling sense of discomfort and unease that he’d come to associate with the soul fragment wasn’t gone, but was significantly reduced, making him wonder how he’d feel if he survived having it completely removed. A quick survey of Hermione’s mood through the bond showed she was in an even more ebullient mood than he was. He quickly showered and dressed in his Quidditch robes.

“Ron!” Harry said, poking his friend.

“G’way” Ron mumbled in response.

“Ron, wake up!” Harry said, on the verge of laughing. Ron was always hard to wake and the more things changed, the more they stayed the same with him, “We’ve Quidditch today! I know you’re going to want to eat before we play!”

Ron sat bolt upright. His red hair sticking up everywhere after being shoved into the pillow all night looked almost as unruly as Harry’s.

“I’m going to miss breakfast? Quidditch? Be right down! Save me something!” Ron said, hopping out of bed and hurrying toward the shower in his boxers.

Harry walked downstairs into the common room. Hermione was already on the couch reading one of her textbooks. He didn’t know how she kept up her pace, but between all their extracurricular activities, she was already actively revising for OWL exams. Harry had benefitted from all her knowledge and in a quick assessment of where he was in relation to the exams, he realized he was more prepared than he would have ever been without the bond. He fully expected to get all outstandings even without extensive revision. Hermione had nothing to worry about, but since he realized being over prepared was just part of her personality, he didn’t intervene.

She looked up from the book as soon as he walked into the room, giving him a loving smile. Hermione knew what he was thinking and knew he was right, but not revising would be like walking through the Great Hall without pants on, it might be exhilarating but wasn’t worth the stress. She looked Harry up and down; partly to be sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, but mostly to appreciate how handsome he looked in his Quidditch gear. She’d always thought so, but it was even more fun to be able to appreciate him openly. His hair was a mess, as always, but it defied taming even more than hers did. They’d tried sleakeasy potion once, just out of curiosity and it hadn’t done anything except to make Harry’s hair look both greasy and unmanageable at the same time, a rare feat. She sometimes wondered whether the mess was a magical side effect of his core, his hair affected by the magical equivalent of a nuclear powerplant so nearby.

Harry glanced over Hermione as he walked up to her. She was dressed warmly, in jeans for once and several jumpers, but over it all she was wearing one of his old Quidditch jerseys. He never thought of himself as much of a chauvinist and knew Hermione wouldn’t have tolerated it if he was, but he couldn’t help the warmth he felt when he saw her wearing his jersey with Potter across the back. The tendency to mark his territory was probably an atavistic male trait and so he tried to avoid it, but it still felt good when he saw that she had done it for him.

“Good morning, Hermione!” he said happily, giving her a passionate kiss.

“Good morning, love.” She said, after breaking it much sooner than he wanted, “You can have more…but only after you win the game. Gotta keep you motivated, don’t we?”

“You’ll definitely keep me motivated that way!” Harry grinned, “Ready?”

“Of course, but where’s Ron?” Hermione asked.

“Had a bit of a lie in. I woke him and he’ll be down, but he said to go ahead and save him some breakfast.” Harry answered.

“Like they’ve ever run out.” Hermione huffed, “The House Elves would probably start sacrificing themselves if they ever got close.”

“Gross.” Harry said, shaking his head at the vivid mental image, worse because Hermione was probably right.

They walked down to the Great Hall and the Gryffindor table. The team was all gathered together with their boyfriends, girlfriends, and other close supporters. Luna was sitting at the table wearing her lion-headed hat, a strange sight on a Ravenclaw, but nothing unusual on Luna.

“Good morning, Luna.” Harry said, sliding in across from her, “Ron will be down in a minute.”

“Oh, I know.” Luna said airily, “He’s so hard to wake up, but he’s worse after a shag. If I’d worn him out last night, he probably would have missed the game all together.”

Harry almost choked on his first sip of pumpkin juice. It was hard to get used to how direct and completely without social hang-ups Luna was. Hermione just smiled. The girl would have bothered her once, but was just an endless source of amusement now. She was almost a protégé with her quick Ravenclaw wit and dedication to academics. Having her around and Harry actually studying had changed the dynamics of their little group immensely. She had hopes that even Ron could be led into some heavy revising with Luna doing the motivating.

“If the game goes well, I’ve got a little surprise.” Luna said, “Something I’ve been working on. Here’s your copy, Hermione.” The blonde passed Hermione a sheet of parchment with lyrics written in closely, “Don’t tell him or let him see in advance.”

“I won’t Luna.” Hermione assured her, “These look really good.”

“Thank you.” Luna said, “I’ve always liked writing. I write for the Quibbler pretty often.”

Ginny, as an alternate, was also in her Quidditch gear. Neville sat beside her, pouring over his copy of the parchment.

“So, Harry, what do you think of our chances, today?” Ginny asked.

“What? Oh, good, really good.” Harry answered confidently, “I’m feeling on and if Ron has as good a day today as he did the other day… well, let’s just say I can’t imagine them winning. With Cedric gone, Summerby doesn’t have a chance against me. Their chasers are pretty good, but we’ve got better.”

“I can’t wait until I can play.” Ginny said, “I’m excited to be on the team at all, but I’m really looking forward to playing.”

“You said you were going to try out for chaser next year?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, we’re going to lose a lot of players next year.” Ginny said, “I think I’ve got a good shot.”

“I think so, too.” Harry said, “Actually, if the game goes like I think it will, I wonder if Angelina would let you sub in at Seeker after we get enough of a lead. Angelina!”

“What, Harry?” Angelina said, “Where’s Ron, by the way?”

“Oh, he’s coming in the door now.” Harry said, gesturing with his head, “I wanted to ask, if we manage to pile on enough points that there’s a good margin, would you mind subbing Ginny in at Seeker? It wouldn’t hurt to get her some experience in games.”

“That’s a big if, Potter.” Angelina said, then leaned back, inspecting Ginny, “But yeah, if we’re that far ahead, she can play if you’re willing. You wouldn’t feel bad, being in the game for so long and then coming out before earning the glory?”

“Nah,” Harry laughed, “like I need more glory.”

“What are you talking about, Mate?” Ron said, settling in next to Luna.

“If we’re far enough ahead, Angelina’s going to let Ginny sub in at Seeker for the end of the game.” Harry said.

“Good idea!” Ron agreed with his mouth full of food, “Don’t worry, sis, I’ll make sure you get to play.”

“Thanks, Ron.” Ginny said, sarcastically.

“This is going to be a fun game, Ron.” Harry said smiling, “We’ve been working hard. I want us to get out there and really just enjoy this one. You did awesome last game, really showed those snakes who the ‘King’ really was.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Ron said happily.

“Weasley’s *my* King.” Luna said, leaning against Ron, who blushed, but didn’t move away.

They finished breakfast and started to walk out to the pitch.

“Hey, Harry.” Neville said quietly.

“Yeah, Nev?” Harry asked.

“That was a really good thing you did, talking to Angelina for Ginny.” Neville said, “Even if it doesn’t go like you’re hoping, she’ll appreciate that you made the effort.”

“Thanks, Nev.” Harry said, “I’m confident or I wouldn’t have given her false hope. I think we’re going to trounce them.”

Neville nodded. Hermione came up besides Harry and draped her arm around his waist. He let himself fall silent, psyching himself up for the game. His mindset for games was a little less intense than for duels, but was otherwise similar. His mind was clear and he responded from a place of pure intuition and reaction. He let himself find that mindspace as he walked, ready for what was going to be one of the best games of his career. They had an experienced chaser line, long the centerpiece of the Gryffindor team. They had twin beaters, second to none. With no false modesty, he acknowledged his own role as one of the best Seekers of recent history. Now, with Ron showing real promise with his last game, Harry was confident Gin was going to get some play.

“So, Harry…” Fred said in the locker room, while they were finishing suiting up with pads.

“…are you going to catch the snitch early or leave it for later?” George finished.

“You two didn’t hear?” Harry asked, “I asked Angelina for permission. If we can run the score up high enough, Ginny’s going to sub in as Seeker. So I’m going to hold off unless it looks like Summerby’s seen it. With luck, I won’t be catching the snitch at all.”

“Our little sister…” one of the twins started.

“…is going to be on the field?” the other finished.

“I pity the beater…”

“…who tries to hit her.”

Both twins looked murderous. Harry smiled. Well, getting the twins motivated was accomplished.

Once they were all dressed, they gathered near the door, ready to take the field as a team. Harry caught Ron’s eye and they grinned at each other. Ron made a fist and Harry bumped it. Being teammates was good… this was something Ron had been waiting years to experience and Harry intended to do everything he could to make it a good experience for his friend.

“You’ve all heard the plan.” Angelina said, “We’re going to try to run the score up, which will help us win the Quidditch Cup in the end and let us play some of our alternates. Harry, you’re going to keep a sharp eye out for the snitch, but not grab it unless it looks like Hufflepuff’s close. Feel free to mess with the ‘Puffs. Run their Seeker into the ground. Break up some of their Chaser plays. Whatever you can do as long as it doesn’t distract you from the snitch too much. Ron, play like you did last game and I’ll buy your next Butterbeer. Katie, Alicia – you know what we need to do. Fred, George – keep ‘em off of us and busy dodging the Bludgers. Any questions?”

“No!” they all yelled in unison.

“Then let’s go Lions!!” Angelina roared. They all took the field roaring, immediately hopping on their brooms and doing a circuit around the field, before landing so Angelina could do the coin toss.

Harry soared to altitude. He felt good…really good. The reborn feeling he’d had since his transformation wasn’t wearing off, but felt even stronger once he was flying. His natural talent as a flyer wasn’t changed much as a animagus. It certainly wasn’t reduced, but any reinforcement of that trait had to be subtle, since his ability as a natural flyer was one of the biggest parts of his personality. He thought auramancy came a little more easily to him, whether due to duration using the skill or transforming into a very magical creature, he wasn’t sure. At first he’d had to use the spell via wand and incantation, then he’d learned to do it silently, then wandlessly, and then he’d been able to concentrate to see auras. Now, he could see, feel, hear, and smell magic almost at will, like an instinct. Harry guessed that’s how the good aurors were, sensing the traces of magic they needed to identify for their work. He was easily able to spot the snitch, a heavily enchanted item. He kept it in sight, but tried not to pay much attention to it, flying randomly around the pitch.

The Gryffindor chasers immediately seized the Quaffle and flew down the center of the pitch in formation, Angelina in the center with Alicia and Katie on her wings. The Weasley twins flew loose protective positions, one slightly above, one slightly below, ready to return any Bludgers sent at the chasers. Harry kept his eyes open, because if the beaters were protecting the chasers, he was somewhat more open, but his greater maneuverability was always his most potent defense.

Ron sat easily in front of the rings. He looked loose and calm. His success in the prior game was exactly what he needed, Harry thought. Ron was so temperamental. He could be great or he could fall apart, just depending on where he was in his mental space. Harry filed the thought away. Maybe he could talk about the mental game prior to the next DA meeting with his inner-circle. He felt like he’d made a lot of headway there (no pun intended) and maybe he could share some of his process with the others. Most of them didn’t need it, but Ron and Neville might benefit from it, even though both were obviously conquering their demons on their own. Harry thought about Neville…why wasn’t he on the Quidditch team? He did have that fall during their very first flying lesson and until recently, a lack of confidence, but he was getting to be big and very muscular. He might make a great beater. If he could talk Hermione into trying out for chaser with Ginny, then they would be able to replace a lot of the graduating students. Otherwise, the loss of experience threatened the team and only working with people he knew and trusted might offset that.

Gryffindor had scored a point, Angelina tossing through the left hoop after feinting right, the others masking her switch by flying in front of the Keeper. Now the ‘Puffs had the Quaffle and were in the early stages of a push towards the Gryffindor goal. Harry had an idea how to break that up and solve another problem at the same time. He faked a look of surprised discovery and immediately started diving towards the snitch.

“Potter sees the snitch!” Lee Jordan announced, “He’s going for it! Summerby tries to catch up, is he too late? They’re both in a dive now…they’re going to hit the Hufflepuff chasers! Whoa, they just missed them, but the ‘Puffs dropped the ball and one of them almost fell off his broom. Are the seekers going to pull up in time? Ouch! Potter pulls out of the dive but Summerby hits the ground, hard! No sign of the snitch, was that a Wronski feint by Potter?”

Harry whooped with joy as his toes kissed the tips of the grass. The g-forces eased off as he leveled out inches above the turf flying at probably close to 250 kilometers per hour after the dive. He heard the thud behind him and felt a little guilty for flying the other seeker into the ground, but Pomphrey was good, he’d be fine.

“They’re calling a time-out while Summerby is escorted off the field. Hufflepuff is putting their alternate out, but Patty Jones is an unknown on the pitch and her inexperience can’t help the ‘Puffs in what is shaping up to be a slaughter!”

Once the alternate seeker to an already inexperience primary took the field, it was clear that things were going to go even worse for the ‘Puffs. Ron was playing an excellent game, blocking everything that came his way. The only shot that was even close was the first and once he had the added confidence of having blocked his first shot, he played even better. The experienced chaser line and experienced beaters were just too much for the Hufflepuff team. If the Gryffindors had lost their star players, it might have been different. After an hour, they were ahead 240-20 and Angelina called a time-out.

“Ron, you feeling good?” Angelina asked.

“Yes, Captain, I am!” Ron said, his smile stretched across his face.

“Ok, good, then Harry if you’re still willing, I’m going to swap Ginny in for you.” The Gryffindor Captain said.

“I’m willing.” Harry smiled, “Go get ‘em, Gin!”

“Thanks, Harry!” Ginny said, blushing.

“The snitch has been hanging out near their goals as much as anywhere. Look for it against the darker background of the stands, makes it easier to see. Try to put the sun behind you, so you can see the glint of the gold surface.” Harry said, giving her some basic advice.

The team took to the air and Harry headed to the bench. He watched Ginny set up a circuit high in the air. He could easily spot the snitch, but couldn’t get the information to her. He thought about trying to yell or gesture, but realized he just needed to relax and let Ginny do what she was good at. She was almost as much of a natural flyer as he was and had obsessed about Quidditch much longer. She’d been stealing her brothers’ brooms out of the shed to play in secret for years. He could see from her flying that she was more than a match for Summersby, let alone the alternate. She played more on Cho’s level, which was quite high.

Ron blocked another goal and a blonde Ravenclaw wearing a lion hat stood and started directing a new cheer.

“Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He didn't let the Quaffle in

Weasley is our King.

Weasley eats anything,

Bacon, toast, or a waffle,

Flies in front of Lion’s Ring,

Stops the Quaffle!

Weasley is our King

Greatest of Men

He doesn’t let them in

Weasley is our King

Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That's why Gryffindors all sing:

Weasley is our King.”

(credit to JKR for the original, added verses mine)

He watched her circle and immediately noticed when she saw the snitch. She edged closer to it while trying to look everywhere else as if still searching. Once she truly went for it, everyone’s eyes went to her.

“Ginny Weasley, the fourth Weasley on the current Gryffindor team, appears to have seen the snitch. Or is this another Wronski feint? She’s diving for it. Jones is lagging behind, seeming not to want to commit in case it is a feint. No, Weasley’s got it! Gryffindor wins, 360-80! Ginny Weasley showing she has the family talent that produced the famed Charlie Weasley, the last great Gryffindor seeker before Potter, has caught the snitch!”

Ginny landed and the team mobbed her. Her twin brothers lifted her to their shoulders and the entire team paraded around the pitch.

“Ginny! Ginny! Ginny!” they all chanted.

Harry was hit by a bushy haired missile known as Hermione before he was out of the stadium. After a long, rib crushing hug, she looked up at him.

“It was a good game, Harry.” Hermione said, “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, “What for? I didn’t win it.”

“That’s exactly it.” Hermione said with a gentle smile, “I know how easily you can see the snitch now. I know how well you fly. I know you could have won the game before it had even really started. You didn’t so two of your friends could have fun and get some experience playing. By doing it, you gave up some of the glory you would have won and made sure they got some attention. It was a very nice thing to do.”

“I never wanted all of the attention I have.” Harry said, “Despite Ron’s occasional jealousy, I never wanted any of that. It seems like no matter how much I dodge it, I just get more and more famous. Things are going really well for me. Since…since you and I actually, I’ve felt like I’m on the right track to building up the skills and the power to beat Voldemort. After that, I will be much more famous than I am now and I’ll be lucky to ever be able to walk around without attention again. With all that in mind, it’s the least I can do to give my friends some of the attention they want. And deserve.”

“When did you start to grow up?” Hermione asked with a smirk.

“Oh, about the time I formed the connection to your mind.” Harry teased back, “Who knew all it took was a massive infusion of superego from a witch that was practically drowning in it anyway?”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said, “you didn’t even know the word superego before me, did you?”

“Of course not.” Harry laughed.

The crowd carried Ginny all the way up to the Gryffindor common room. They all filed in through the portrait hole, the mass funneling in through the narrowed opening. Luna, her lion hat roaring all the way, was arm-in-arm with Ron. She was singing the new Weasley is our King song to him, making up new verses, some of them mildly inappropriate. Harry and Hermione slipped to the side to watch the party begin.

Neville also stood to the side and they watched as he shyly stood there, part of the party, but apart. He was watching Ginny, love and longing in his eyes while she was being passed around above everyone’s head. He watched as some of the other Gryffindors hit on the new Quidditch star. Cormac McLaggen was the worst. Neville’s mind was already rehearsing how he’d deal with it when she ended up with one of the more outgoing boys, one of the handsomer boys. He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Ginny.

“Wait!” she called, “Where’s Neville?”

She saw him at the edge of the party and squealed, running to him. He was so surprised he barely caught her.

“What are you doing out here, silly?” Ginny asked, “Did you see it? I caught the snitch!”

“I did!” he said, the smile on his face completely out of proportion to his concern about Quidditch, “I never had any doubt.”

“No?” Ginny asked with a smile, “I certainly did.”

The whole room erupted in cat-calls as she passionately kissed Neville.

“Well, little brother…” George said.

“…aren’t you going to threaten to kill Mr. Longbottom?” Fred finished.

Ron looked over lazily, his arm still around Luna. “Nev? Nope. I’ve got better things to do.”

With that he lowered his head and kissed Luna.

“That’s, that’s so sweet!” Fred said.

“Our little boy is growing up.” George said.

“And becoming a lot less of a prat.” Fred continued.

“Speaking of prats, we’re keeping our girls waiting, aren’t we?” George said.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

22 Feb

Sunday was a lazy day, as most of Gryffindor was hung over. Among some of the other houses, it was a day to pursue extracurricular work. In the dungeons, a group of Slytherins practiced in a large empty room, cleared out and warded for extracurricular defense practice. Only the Slytherins didn’t call it Defense against the Dark Arts. They called it dueling and had retained an instructor suitable.

“You little maggots!” Dimitriov shouted, his patience for his students wearing thin, “I’m trying to teach you, but you refuse to learn! Once again, show me the wand movement for the Protego charm. I asked you to practice it one hundred times after the last practice, but you’re all making movements that look like a drunken baboon trying to use a wand, which makes me doubt whether any of you did what I asked!”

The Slytherins turned pale and hurriedly tried to correct their failings. After working together for weeks, they’d come to respect the tutor hired by their parents to supplement the poor defense tuition available at Hogwarts.

“Protego?” Malfoy drawled, “No wonder none of us are practicing. When are you going to teach us the advanced shields?”

“Advanced shields?” Alex ranted, “What makes you think you deserve to learn advanced shields? Master protego and then I’ll teach you more advanced shields. Along the way you may realize you don’t need more advanced shields and that with the proper power and more importantly will, you can adapt the basic shield to do what you want. Now again!”

They practiced for hours until most of them were verging on magical exhaustion.

“Your parents hired the recent European Dueling Champion for a reason.” Alex said, “My achievements won’t help you, though, unless you learn what I’m teaching. You’re dismissed. Practice protego five hundred times before we meet again. Practice the stunning charm five hundred times. You may combine those practices with a partner if you wish. Dismissed. Mr. Malfoy, you stay. I want to speak to you.”

All the Slytherins left, except Draco. A few of his fellows gave him sympathetic looks as they left, but most of them simply appeared happy it wasn’t them. Once the room was empty, Dimitriov conjured two plain wooden chairs and placed them across from each other. Sitting in one, he gestured to the other.

“Sit.”

Dimitriov took a few minutes to gather his thoughts.

“We’ve spoken before. Your father paid the most to get me here and I feel a responsibility towards you. You’re also one of the best of this lot. Despite your unspeakable arrogance, you actually do have some intelligence and some drive to better yourself. This, though, why do you insist on behaving as if some spells are beneath you?”

“Because I’m never going to reach my goal by learning protego.” Malfoy said, on the verge of tears, “I lost a duel to another student and my father lost all his respect for me. I want to get good enough to beat my rival, but I’m starting to realize how hard it is going to be and how far I have to go. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Who is it?” Alex asked.

“Harry Potter.” Draco said with a sneer, hatred for the boy clear in his tone.

“Harry Potter.” Dimitriov confirmed, “I’ve never met the boy, but he is famous, of course. Tell me everything. Leave no detail out, especially about the fight.”

Malfoy complied, describing every aspect of the exchange, while Alex listened and occasionally clarified details. He seemed to grow more interested as the tale progressed.

“Mr. Malfoy, I want to view your memory of that duel. I have a pensieve with me. It becomes handy at higher levels to review the details of duels, which often happen to quickly to follow at the time.”

Alex enlarged the shrunken pensieve he had with him. It was a utilitarian model, spartan and inexpensive as the rare and valuable devices went.

“Think of the duel.” He commanded, holding his wand to Draco’s head and pulling out a strand, which he placed into the pensieve. “Mr. Malfoy, you can view the memory with me or you can stay out here if it disturbs you.”

Both wizards quickly dipped their faces into the memory and were immersed. They watched the entire duel and then emerged, back in their seats in the open room. Dimitriov was silent for several moments, collecting his thoughts and deciding whether to accept or reject his conclusion. He also wanted to decide what to share with Draco Malfoy.

“What did you learn from the duel, Mr. Malfoy?” Alex asked.

“That Potter had somehow become much better than I was.” Malfoy said, “We used to fight all the time and we were pretty even, but this was different. I don’t know how he did it, but I wanted to get that good. After working on it for so long, though, I’m realizing how much more work than I thought and I’m not even close to what I see in that memory.”

“Good.” Alex said, “You admit he’s good and now you know how much work it takes to get that good. I’ve talked to you some about honor…have you thought more about it?”

“Some.” Draco confirmed hesitantly, “What you say contradicts everything I’ve learned, though. If respect has to be earned, if it’s not just something you’re given because of wealth or blood status…what does that mean for me?”

“It means you have a clean slate.” Dimitriov said, “And I assure you, it is exactly as I have told you. There are half-bloods or even muggle borns in the dueling circuit that can beat any pureblood. Blood status just does not matter, except that purebloods from countries like this, that have the old biases, often don’t work hard enough to reach the top levels. Tell me, name for me the last dueling champion from a British pureblood family.”

Draco thought and couldn’t remember any.

“You know any of your father’s friends would brag incessantly about it.” Alex said, “I have to admit something. I told you I didn’t know Potter. Now I realize I have heard of him by reputation. His dueling style made me realize, because I hadn’t heard his name. Unless you dedicate yourself to a lifetime of practice as your single focus, you’re not going to reach his level. You’d hate that life. Do you understand me?”

“You’re saying I can’t beat him?” Draco hesitantly offered.

“No.” Alex said, “You are one of the few that I can see accomplishing it. If you devote your fortune to doing nothing but becoming a better duelist, if you hire the best trainers, tutors, special enhancement coaches...if you do nothing but train, you could eventually reach his level. Then, depending on what happened in the duel, with a little luck you could beat him. In the meantime, you would have sacrificed everything else you are good at. You’re a promising potion brewer from what I’ve heard. You seem to have a talent with young ladies. You’d have to give all that up to have a chance at beating him.”

Draco hung his head.

“If you accept what I’ve told you,” Alex continued, “what does his ability mean for his effort?”

“It means he’s singlemindedly focused on nothing but dueling, probably since the last time we faced each other.” Draco said. Suddenly it was like a lightbulb came on above his head.

“Why would he do that?” Alex asked.

“To beat me!” Draco said, then paused as if hearing what he had said “No, wait, that’s stupid. He’s Harry Potter. He did it because he’s hunted by the Dark Lord.”

“Do you have any motivation like that?” Alex asked Draco.

“No, nothing I would sacrifice everything else in my life for.” Malfoy answered.

“There’s your answer, then.” Alex said, “Have you ever talked to him? Really talked to him, not as a verbal assault.”

“Once, on the train, I tried to make him my friend. He rejected me completely.” Draco said.

“Well, you have two options.” Alex said, “You could ignore him. If he’s as single mindedly focused as you think he must be, then you’ll never have another problem as long as you steer clear of him. Or, you could try to talk to him. You might find you’ve both grown up since then. Draco, the world’s changing. Your country is the last to change and I don’t think even Voldemort can defeat the entire rest of the world. If you set yourself up to be like your father, you may win big and become part of a ruling elite in the future, but if you do not, you set yourself up to live the rest of your life in prison, in utter misery. You are a Slytherin. I respect that. I know it means you’ve got at least the basis to think through these issues and decide on a course of action in your own best interest. Think carefully.”

Draco nodded. Standing he started to walk towards the door, but then he turned. Raising his wand, he saluted his teacher in the ancient sign of respect. Alex saluted back and Draco left.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

23 Feb

Harry went to breakfast late, having slept in a little in the Room of Requirement. He’d had a very fun night and had been reluctant to leave the warmth of his bed and his bondmate. He and Hermione walked into the Great Hall and noticed all eyes on them. They weren’t unaccustomed to attention, but it usually wasn’t so blatant. Whispers started and eyes followed them as they walked to their usual places.

“Is it true?” Lavender said as they sat.

“Is what true, Lavender?” Hermione asked, irritated.

“Did you really face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named last year?” she asked dramatically.

“You know Dumbledore told the whole story already.” Hermione said exasperated, "You didn’t believe it then?”

“Well…” Lavender said, “I won’t say I didn’t believe it. You know I didn’t think all that muck about Harry being nutters, you know I don’t, but I’m not sure what I believed. Now I’m reading it in the Quibbler and it makes a lot of sense. It explains how those prisoners escaped recently. No prisoners ever escape and then Sirius Black escapes and now a lot of Death Eaters escaped. It would take someone as powerful as You-Know-Who to make that happen.”

“Voldemort.” Hermione said, smirking when Lavender jumped, “You can say it. You’re a Gryffindor. Voldemort.”

“V…Vol…Voldemort.” Lavender said, then looked extremely proud of herself, “Voldemort helped them escape. Well, I wanted you to know I believe you and if you need anything, I’m on your side.”

“Thanks, Lavender.” Harry said. Looking around the room, he realized a lot of the looks he was receiving weren’t unfriendly. The whispers weren’t malicious. Of course, there was one person at the Head Table that seemed to feel differently.

“What is everyone whispering about?” Professor Umbridge said, standing up from her seat at breakfast, although it was hard to tell a difference, “There was nothing in the paper this morning, what are you children reading?!”

When everyone ignored her, she got really angry. Her face started turning the color puce that Vernon Dursley’s did right before he would explode. She gestured at the Slytherin table, signaling Malfoy to seize one of the newspapers for her. He initially seemed to be looking in her direction, but then a moment later seemed to be looking elsewhere and must not have seen her signal. Vincent Crabbe stood and marched up to a third year Hufflepuff who was reading the Quibbler. He took it away and presented it to Professor Umbridge.

She read the headlines, growing more and more agitated. “Lies! All lies! Spread by attention seeking…” She trailed off after catching the spark of emerald green eyes leveled at her in anger, but continued, “Lying, worthless, blood-traitor rubbish of a newspaper trying to discredit the Ministry and Minister Fudge. We’ll see about this!” Umbridge stood and stomped out of the Great Hall, a wave of cheers following her out, silenced at a sharp look from Professor McGonagall.

A succession of owls flew to Harry’s and Hermione’s places at the Gryffindor table throughout breakfast. The first dropped his complimentary copy of the Quibbler. The others all brought correspondence. Some of it was still insulting, but the majority of it expressed support. Harry smiled. Maybe his reputation was not completely destroyed after all.

Later that day, when Educational Decree 27 was posted, Harry was outraged. He was surprised when Hermione looked smug.

“How can you not be upset? The ministry is using their power to squash our story!” Harry ranted.

“Honestly, Harry!” Hermione huffed, “You say the hat thought you’d do well in Slytherin House? Think! What is going to happen when you tell a bunch of Wizards not to read something? It’s not like you can stop the mail, like you could with muggles. This will guarantee everyone reads it.”

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Later that day, Harry put on his dueling robes and went to the usual room, having received a note from Dumbledore earlier that their time would be spent there. He walked in and saw a man he’d never met before, along with Ron Weasley, Filius Flitwick, Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomphrey, and Albus Dumbledore.

“Harry, this is Alex Dimitriov. He’s a recent European Dueling Champion. I bring him here because he came to Professor Flitwick on Sunday with an interesting story.” Albus said.

“Oh?” Harry asked, “What was it?”

Albus gestured to Alex to tell his story. Alex gave the broad outline of his lessons with the Slytherins and Draco’s story. He told of being intrigued, because as a professional duelist, he could interpret dueling styles almost as easily as a forensic handwriting analyst can interpret a signature. The duel Draco described, although short, fit the dueling style of an anonymous duelist Alex had fought extensively recently. Alex told of going so far as to view the memory in a pensieve.

“So you see, Mr. Potter, after seeing the memory, I knew it was you. You might as well have been wearing a name-tag.” Alex said, “None of this makes sense, as you’re a fifth year primary school student. There’s no way you should be able to fight as you do. So I went to Filius and laid out what I knew and asked him for answers.”

“Why do you want these answers?” Harry asked, “Why does it matter to you?”

“Because I am more than just a duelist.” Alex said, “Estaban, the current champion, is just a duelist. He doesn’t care about honor, he cares about the prize money. I am different. As I have told Draco, the fight reflects your honor and after fighting you, I had to know who you were.”

Harry looked at his professors. “You have said you don’t want anyone to know my true abilities.”

“No, we don’t.” Flitwick said, “He has already given a wizard’s oath not to reveal what he knows about you.”

Harry nodded. “Then what?”

“We want him to be one of your teachers.” Flitwick said, “He’s already taught you much. He’s willing to continue as a colleague.”

“I need no more money to work with you.” Alex said, “I am making enough from the Slytherins, although most are too lazy to really make anything of what I teach them. I want to work with you just to continue working with you. You have potential.”

Harry nodded. “I’ve gotten a lot out of working with you. I’d like to continue working together. Are we dueling today?”

“No, Harry.” Albus chuckled, “I thought we’d try something new today. We hope Alex will help take notes and coach you afterwards, but you have a new opponent today.”

“Ok, who?” Harry asked, getting excited.

“Me.” Albus said with a smile.

Harry’s mouth dropped open. He’d dueled Dumbledore before as an exhibition for the DA, but if Albus wanted to duel in front of this crowd, Harry knew it would be more serious.

“Ummmm….” Harry said, “Am I ready for that?”

“Perhaps.” Dumbledore said, “Perhaps not. We won’t know until we try and I trust you’re far enough along that no matter the outcome, you will learn something from it. There are very few wizards strong enough to seriously challenge you as far as power goes. Voldemort is one such. I am another. If you only learn to duel those less powerful than you, you will develop bad habits.”

Harry swallowed nervously and nodded his head.

Filius became businesslike. “Take your places.”

Dumbledore, dressed in dove grey robes with a thick tapestry like texture, walked sedately to his position across the room from Harry. Harry took his position. He was clearly nervous, but was breathing deeply and seeming to settle into a calmer, detached attitude as the observers watched.

Filius waved his hand, raising barriers in front of the observers. Dimitriov, after a moment’s thought, waved his wand through some intricate wand movements, raising his own supplementary wards. Hermione, looking critically at both sets of wards, glanced out at the room, looking at Harry and the Headmaster. She raised an additional set of wards.

“Blimey, what do you thinks going to happen?” Ron asked.

“There’s enough power out there that I don’t want anything to happen.” Dimitriov said, “If you’ve ever seen a dueling ward fail during a fight between high level opponents, you’ll never want to see it again.”

Flitwick’s voice could be heard, only slightly muffled by the wards, “Gentlemen, salute your opponent.”

Dumbledore saluted casually. Harry saluted sharply, every moment crisp. The respect he held for his opponent was clear in every line of his body, but his emotional detachment blunted the sentiment. His conscious mind respected Dumbledore more than words could say, but the Machine lived only to fight and didn’t care who except to ruthlessly analyze everything it knew about the legendary Headmaster of Hogwarts.

“Begin!” Flitwick called.

Harry fired off a string of curses immediately, hoping to end the fight early due to the speed of youth. He sent a stunning spell first, followed by a chain of SPEARs, half assuming Dumbledore would get a shield up. The observers could barely follow his wand movements, he was so fast, but the Headmaster was a veteran and barely managed a non-verbal shield before the stunner hit, sending the red bolt bouncing off to the ceiling. The chain of piercing charms linked to blasting hexes hit next and Dumbledore winced, pouring more power into his shield as it glowed, absorbing the spell-fire. As the last spell hit, Albus dropped his shield and swept his wand around in a circle, red flame trailing off the edge of it. The flame exploded outward, becoming a thick column or reddish gold flame. Faces appeared within, lions, phoenices, wolves, all surging at Harry.

“Fiendfyre.” Hermione whispered. Ron’s eyes were open wide.

Harry hesitated a moment, then waved his wand in front of his body in the shape of a wall and concentrated. The fiendfyre pooled in front of him, climbing higher and higher, seeming to seek any edge to spill over Harry’s defensive wall. An intense look of utter focus dominated Harry’s expression and the flames reversed direction, leaping at Dumbledore in the shape of a single phoenix, talons outstretched, looking much like Fawkes had while attacking the basilisk. The Headmaster leaned back and with a hacking vertical movement of his wand, banished the flames entirely. Surprisingly, he laughed.

“Good show, my boy!”

However, he never stopped moving. He gestured and conjured what looked like a dozen suits of armor from nothing, an incredible feat of conjuration. With another gesture, all the suits came alive and started marching towards Harry.

Harry blasted them with a stream of SPEARs, the piercing curse delivering the blasting hex right into the hollow interior before detonating. Dumbledore shielded, small fragments pattering off his barrier like rain off an umbrella. Harry didn’t have attention to spare and was soon scratched and torn, his dueling robes protecting his body but his hands and face bleeding lightly.

The last animated suit dropped feet away from Harry. He snapped his wand upwards, as if in salute, and all the pieces rose to a massive non-verbal wingardium leviosa. Then he slammed his wand down, as if completing the salute and all the pieces flew at Dumbledore, carried by an overpowered banishing charm.

The Headmaster focused on his shield, strengthening it. All the metal pieces slammed into the center, forming one massive mushroom shaped accretion of metallic fragments before falling to the floor with a clang.

Harry felt his mental barriers struck by a very subtle yet powerful legilimens attack at the same time the metallic pile sprouted eight barbed legs and rose up like a metallic acromantula.

“Oh no!” Ron squeaked, pulling his feet off the floor and hugging them with his hands.

The creature was a nightmare, with rusted fangs dripping green poison. It skittered towards Harry at a frightening rate.

He reinforced his mental shields, trying to trap Dumbledore but unable to grasp the master legilimens’ probe. Then he waved his wand in a complicated movement. A glow sprang into being near the ceiling, seemingly out of nowhere, appearing like dark clouds lit from within. Blue-white shafts of blazing incandescence, too bright to look at directly, struck once, twice, then again and again, blowing the metal spider into pieces. Waves of thunder made the room shake and other sounds were muted in comparison.

The Headmaster made a stabbing motion with his wand and an all-too-familiar sickening green bolt shot at Harry, followed by another and another. Without thinking, Harry levitated a piece of the metal spider into the way of the first, dodged the second, blocked the third, and sidestepped the fourth. He retaliated with a chain of SPEARs, which Dumbledore had to dodge, not having enough time to raise a suitably reinforced shield against the shield piercing charm. It was shocking to see such an old man dodge so nimbly, but he avoided each of the curses, which took chunks out of the stone wall behind him.

Dumbledore made a grand gesture with his wand and a red glowing bolt, looking like a stunner flew from his wand tip, but it grew and grew, soon filling half the room as it shot towards Harry. Initially planning on dodging, Harry quickly realized he had to shield and successfully raised one. When the bolt hit, though, it was not only massive, probably a stunner spread wide, but was also incredibly powerful, which shouldn’t be possible spread that wide. His shield fell and the massive bolt slammed home. Harry felt his consciousness slip and he tried to hold on through sheer willpower and occlumency, but was unable to just shrug off the powerful spell. All became black.

Harry woke to Dumbledore and Hermione looking down at him.

“Oh, Harry, are you ok?” Hermione asked.

“I’m fine.” Harry said, “Nothing’s hurt except my pride. I didn’t expect to lose to a stunner.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “That was not just any stunner. With no false modesty, I can tell you that you should be proud you lasted as long as you did. Few could face me one on one and do even a creditable job. You did much more than that. Given that your one weakness is lack of experience, we just have to continue getting you as much experience in as short a time as we can. When you are ready, let me know and we will duel again.”

“Again?” Harry said in disbelief.

“Yes, again.” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, but hard at the same time, “You want to train, you want to get good enough to defeat Riddle; these are almost impossible tasks, so you must be ready to train at an almost impossible pace.”

They dueled until Harry was trembling with exhaustion. Poppy healed minor injuries after each fight, usually Harry’s, but occasionally Dumbledore had a scratch, cut, or bruise. At the end of the night, his magical core almost completely depleted, Harry limped up to Gryffindor tower between Ron and Hermione.

“Don’t feel bad, Harry.” Ron said, “That was brilliant. You were fighting Dumbledore and I could tell he was really trying!”

“Thanks, Ron.” Harry mumbled exhaustedly, “I know, I should be proud I’ve come this far, but all I can see is how much further I have to go.”

“You’ll get there, Harry.” Hermione said, “Ron and I were both taking notes. We’ve got some ideas, we’ll keep working.”

23 Feb late night

His left arm burning, the dark robed wizard touched his wand to a specially enchanted portkey and disappeared from his office. He appeared in the basement of a finely decorated mansion. He opened a secret door and entered a large, dimly lit room. A pale skinned wizard sat on a black throne, his hairless head and nostrils flush with his face giving him the look of an albino snake. The summoned wizard went down on one knee, bowing his head under the scrutiny of the Dark Lord. He immediately felt his occlumency shields tested and carefully protected his most guarded memories behinds shields so subtle even the most accomplished legilimens known wouldn’t find them.

“You summoned me, Master?” Snape hissed.

“I did, Snape.” Voldemort said quietly, “I received news I would have expected to hear from your ears first.”

“News, my Lord?” Snape asked.

“Yes,” Voldemort said, “I learned that Harry Potter is getting married to the mudblood. Why was I not informed of this?”

“I hardly think Potter’s romantic liaisons are any concern of mine.” Snape said dismissively.

“I don’t ask you to think!” Voldemort said, “Crucio!”

He held Severus under the cruciatus curse for almost a minute before breaking it.

“Not for this, not for any news regarding Harry Potter.” Voldemort said more calmly, “Due to plans within plans, this may be significant. There are ancient magics invoked, particularly in a marriage between the soul-bound. This may interfere with one of my schemes. The date I was given was May Day. Have you heard anything different?”

“No, my Lord.” Snape said raggedly, “That is the date for which they’ve reserved the Great Hall.”

“Very well.” Voldemort said, “Inform me the minute that date changes should you hear of any changes of plan. I will have to accelerate one of my plans. I also want to know any time Dumbledore is not available. Should Harry Potter pass any messages to you for Dumbledore, I want you to delay them and notify me. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Snape said, head bowed.

“Very well. Remember, I do not tolerate failure. You are dismissed. Go before Dumbledore notices your absence.”

Severus portkeyed back to his office with the carefully protected portkey. Set to take one single member of the faculty from their office to anywhere needed and back, it would not carry anyone else and would not carry multiple passengers. The Headmaster enchanted them himself and didn’t want to open Hogwarts to any invaders. Snape had a lot to think about and he needed to inform Dumbledore.

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Feb 24th

Harry was tired, but performed well in Charms and Transfiguration. Hermione was getting antsy about the upcoming OWLs and took notes at a feverish pace. Her own Charms and Transfiguration work were without equal. Ever since their bonding and her increased power, she now combined her own insatiable appetite for knowledge, ruthless work ethic, and peerless organizational skills with Harry’s power, confidence, and talent for making things work when they probably shouldn’t. If she’d been thought of as the top student before, now she was so much more than she had been that the comparison really wasn’t fair. Only Harry was even in the same league and he just didn’t value the school work for its own sake to the same degree as Hermione, although he studied diligently to make her happy and picked up knowledge from her. In studying for each class, she pushed them to learn the spells perfectly with a wand, making the movements so tiny and subtle as to seem only a tremble. The incantations were so crisp as to define the word enunciation. Then she pushed them to achieve the non-verbal and then the wandless versions, although they often hid their knowledge of those variants so they didn’t stick out too far. Hermione took her schoolwork every bit as seriously as Harry took his dueling and she dragged him along with her. It didn’t hurt that they practiced occlumency fanatically and their school memories were organized to perfection compliments of an organizational strategy Hermione had designed.

Care of magical creatures was a bit of relaxation in comparison. It was always good to get outside, although cold in the winter and seeing Hagrid was good, despite the fact that he was anxious due to Umbridge’s close monitoring of his teaching. His injuries were also concerning, but they knew he could take care of himself and suspected he was probably hiding another dangerous animal. They didn’t want to expose him by trying to help with Umbridge already too interested in him.

Luna told them the Quibbler was reprinting what was the fastest selling issue ever. She was amazed, it was selling even better than the annual Snorkack issue.

That night, Harry dueled Dumbledore again, fighting him again and again until he was on the verge of magical exhaustion. He still hadn’t ever won, but he felt like his skills were improving at an exponential rate. Alex pulled him aside after Dumbledore had left.

“Harry, I know what you’re doing now is difficult.” Alex said in his accented English.

“Getting my arse handed to me over and over again?” Harry asked, “It’s pretty easy, actually, it just hurts a lot.”

“Do not make light.” Alex said sternly, “I am here to give you advice. It is discouraging. I went through this phase in my own training. However, you will find later that despite all the losing, you will look back on this as one of the most productive periods of your training. I know it may be difficult to keep it in your head, but you are facing a legend. Any of the competitors in my situation would pay all the winnings they’d ever made on the circuit for this opportunity, because afterwards they know they’d make it all back. Men like Dumbledore do not train just anyone. For the rest of your life, you will have opportunities due to having been his apprentice. Enjoy it and take advantage of it.”

Harry sighed. He knew what Alex was saying was true; it was just hard to keep in mind when he was sore, exhausted, and embarrassed.

“Thank you, Alex.” Harry said, “I understand. I appreciate your advice. I could say the same about you…working with you is also an opportunity most people would long for.”

“True.” Alex said without false modesty, “But I am no Dumbledore.”

Harry nodded as he joined Hermione and walked up to bed.

That night they went through their occlumency drills. Harry had neglected them the night before and he never wanted his shields to fail under Voldemort’s testing. He’d been sending visions almost every night.

Harry fell asleep easily and quickly recognized another Voldemort vision. He dreamed he was Voldemort and was questioning one of his Death Eaters, a wizard named Rookwood. Rookwood told him that only Harry or Voldemort himself would be able to retrieve the prophecy.

Harry woke from the vision and filed away the information before falling back asleep.

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A/N: There’s another chapter ready to post directly after this. I wrote a double long chapter and broke it up out of necessity.

I am furthering my plot, but it seems to always take longer than I mean it to, because I don’t want to just summarize.

Part of me wants to end the story at the end of this school year. It would be a little abrupt, but would be a reasonable place to end it. There’s going to be a major confrontation and if it were won decisively enough, that would be an end. However, the other part of me thinks it won’t end that decisively, but that opens it up to another entire school year, which is maybe longer than I ever thought this story would go. Opinions?

Also, before anyone criticizes too much, I am heavily favoring speed over editing. I know this. I just don’t have time as a resident. So this is a rough work and I apologize.

27. The Phoenix Strikes!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter and don’t make money from my writing about him.

Chapter 27: The Phoenix Strikes!

Feb 25

Harry met with the Black Isle Crew in the Room of Requirement. Once they all arrived he cleared his throat. Hermione, revising for OWLs, put her pen and notebook aside.

“Well, where do you think we are?” Harry said, “We’re well into the second term and things are going to start getting busy with the wedding and exams. I want to see what you each think and what we should concentrate on for the rest of our time together this year. I’m learning a lot from Professor Flitwick and Professor Dumbledore, more than I can even pass on to you lot, let alone the whole of the DA.”

Hermione held her tongue, letting the others have a say.

“I think it’s going really well, Harry!” Luna said, “Almost everyone can summon a Patronus now.”

“I agree with Luna.” Neville said, unsurprisingly, “Not only that, but with the dueling side, everyone’s getting pretty good at some basic dueling. It’s not just casting a spell against a dummy.”

Ron nodded to that. He’d gotten pretty competitive in the dueling side, constantly trying to prove himself.

“I think we’re doing a good job of staying balanced.” Ginny said, “I just don’t know if we shouldn’t start specializing a little bit. The members know the stunning spell, but they also know the reductor curse. They’ve used both under the dueling wards, but I’m afraid if they ever had to use them in the field, they might use either and if they use the reductor, we’re going to have a murder on our hands.”

Harry nodded. He’d thought of this problem after his recent talk with Dumbledore after the Diagon Alley melee. He hadn’t decided for sure on a solution, but he was glad he’d at least thought about it.

Hermione pulled open a notebook and went point by point, “The members all know dodging, basic shields, and a small assortment of offensive spells. Many have managed at least a non-corporeal patronus and many have a corporeal patronus. I asked Professor McGonagall for the standard lesson plan for fifth year DADA and seventh year DADA. We are doing well preparing our members for their OWLs. There are a few knowledge issues we haven’t prepared for the NEWTs, mostly in the realm of dark creatures, but I think maybe a handout might be better than wasting practical time on that.”

Harry grinned, “Let me guess, you’ve prepared the handout?”

Hermione slugged his arm, “Of course, do you think I want our senior members to be unprepared?” She pulled out a small stack of stapled booklets that read, “DADA NEWT study guide”.

“Ok, I want this to stay mostly about the practical, since that’s how it started. We’re replacing the experience we’re not getting in Umbridge’s class, but I think we’re doing more than that. I think we’ve prepared ourselves to survive if we have to face Death Eaters.” Harry said, “I couldn’t have done it without you. I couldn’t teach all these people, but I could teach you and you could teach them. We’re fourth and fifth years, but I think we’ve made the whole DA respect us. Thank you for your hard work.”

Harry clapped for his assistants and all of them blushed.

“I want to take the rest of our time here with some quick duels. I will face each of you. I’ll be trying different stuff to test you. You just do your best to beat me. Hermione will take notes.”

Harry stepped out on the dueling floor. He made the strip markings go away. They usually dueled ‘in the round’ to avoid developing habits of in-line dueling that would transfer negatively to a real-world conflict. He gestured to Ron.

“We’re going to have to go kinda fast to get everyone a chance before the others arrive, so be ready when I call you.” Harry said.

He saluted Ron, who saluted him back. Hermione called out “Begin”.

Ron sent a stream of stunning spells at Harry, which he blocked, watching Ron’s form carefully. Ron had improved significantly and his wand movements were crisp, allowing him to cast faster than he had before. Seeing he wasn’t going to hit Harry with a stunner, Ron shifted to blasting curses, which hit the shield harder. Harry dropped the shield and rolled out of the way, flicking three quick stunners at Ron. Ron blocked the first two and dodged the third, launching his own blasting curse at Harry as he moved. Harry noted the ability to move and cast at the same time as a good thing. Ron’s shield was strong enough, too. Harry conjured three suits of armor, like Dumbledore had before, and animated them to attack Ron. Ron blasted them with reductor curses as he’d seen Harry do. Harry animated the wreckage, using the same spider-form, knowing it would bother Ron. While Ron blasted it, Harry non-verbally animated the smaller wreckage, which snuck up on Ron and transformed into wire restraints, wrapping him tightly.

“Not bad, Ron.” Harry said, “Charm heavy, which I think we all are a bit. Auror-standard is a bit charm heavy. Dumbledore is more of a combat transfigurer. With time, maybe I’ll be able to teach some of that.”

Neville fought a similar fight to Ron, except his spells hit harder and his shield took more damage before falling.

Ginny was faster than both of them, moving like greased lightning. Harry eventually stunned her, knowing if he played with her too much she might land a lucky spell. She flopped on her back, her school skirt up around her waist. Neville blushed crimson. Hermione flipped her skirt down before waking her.

“I hope mine doesn’t do that.” Luna said, “I prefer to duel without knickers. Makes me faster, I think.”

Ron blushed at that comment. Harry wondered once again how much of Luna’s lunacy was real and how much was just a really quirky personality.

“Harry’s going to stun you for sure, now!” Ginny said, grinning.

Luna was fast like Ginny, although maybe not quite as fast. She was very unpredictable, though, transitioning from attack to defense almost randomly. She always seemed a beat off the timing Harry expected and it would be easy to miss defending one of her attacks due to that. He eventually caught her with petrificus totalus and tried to avoid the view she provided, although it was tempting.

“You’re all good.” Harry said, “I won’t say you’re all up to auror-standard, as I’m not qualified to make that call, but you’re as good as all the aurors I’ve fought except Moody and maybe Sirius once he knocked the rust off. Hermione made notes. I’ll review them with her and we’ll have some recommendations later.”

He finished talking as the first members of Dumbledore’s Army let themselves into the Room of Requirement. He waited until they were all there, passing around cushions and seating himself next to Hermione. They all took the hint and gathered around him in a circle.

“Welcome back, Dumbledore’s Army!” Harry said smiling, “I was just telling my assistants how much progress I feel we’ve made. What about you?”

There was wild cheering. Apparently the twins had brought fireworks as a few started streaking overhead.

“We formed this association because we knew Umbridge wouldn’t be teaching proper Defense.” Harry said, “I’m not the academic expert, that’s Hermione’s job…” there were chuckles at that, “…but she says she thinks we’re definitely ready for the OWL practical and probably for the NEWTs, although it might not be our place to say that, since we’re not there, yet.”

“We’re revising now.” Cedric said, looking at Angelina and Alicia, “I think you’re doing a brilliant job of preparing us for the NEWTs. Don’t worry about that.”

“Thanks, Ced.” Harry smiled, “More importantly, though, I think we’re preparing you to survive Death Eater attacks. I’m afraid they’re coming. Voldemort…stop that!...is building up his forces and getting ready for something. So we’ll keep working to be ready, both for our studies and to survive the time that’s coming. It won’t be easy. I thought I was ready, but I want to tell you a story about how I learned no matter how ready you think you are, your first real fight will be a surprise.”

Harry proceeded to tell the story of running into Bellatrix by surprise. He left out some of the details about Hedwig’s death and rebirth, but otherwise told everything, especially how terrified he’d been.

“I talked to the Headmaster afterwards. I had tried to kill Bellatrix and I’m not sorry...” Harry said.

“Hell no, she deserves to die!” Neville said, “If you kill her, I’ll only be mad it wasn’t me.”

“Thanks, Nev.” Harry continued, “But we need to consider our stance. If we come into conflict with Death Eaters, do we lead out with the deadly stuff? Do we throw reductors and fireballs at them? Can we deal with the consequences, both emotional and legal? Or do we start with stunners and switch to the deadly stuff once they’ve made it clear they’re playing for keeps? That would be my proposal; because I don’t want to see any of you go to Azkaban.”

There was silence all around. A few of the heads nodded. Everyone looked deep in thought.

“I leave it up to you each individually to decide how you’re going to react. I won’t tell you what to do, because I won’t be able to deal with the guilt if I’m wrong and one of you dies for it.” Harry said seriously, “However, I do have a drill. Hermione and I have set the target dummies. I want you to cast as many stunning spells as you can. At some point, the target dummy will shoot either a stunning spell or a simulated Killing Curse. Dodge it and then cast either another stunning spell or a deadly spell such as the reductor in response. Are there any questions? We’ll stop everyone about 15 minutes before the dueling portion to give everyone a chance to practice their patronus. Ok, get to it.”

They did the drills for the next hour. Harry circulated, watching as people launched stunners, dodged, then launched a stunner or reductor depending on what the dummy had done. He was able to help people with their wand movements, the most common error. Some had failed to dodge quickly enough and he spent part of his time innervating DA members. The fake ‘Killing Curse’ was really a nasty stinging hex.

Afterwards, they practiced casting the patronus. The twins had come up with the good idea of watching for people who didn’t seem to have a happy enough memory. Then they’d anonymously paired them off for ‘5 minutes of heaven’ in a convenient closet the Room of Requirement had produced. It was amazing how many were able to cast the charm after that. Harry had to laugh at their inventiveness. He wondered who’d helped Marietta Edgecombe learn to cast her duck patronus.

The dueling started and Harry refereed. He was almost never challenged, one of the unwritten rules of Dumbledore’s Army. Zacharias Smith had done so early on, trying to prove he was better than Harry Potter after all. That had taken less than a second to sort out. He had a similar look on his face today, though, and Harry wondered if he was going to try to challenge him again.

“Hermione Granger!” Smith called out.

“Oooooh.” The twins said together, “We thought you had a death wish when you challenged Harry. Obviously we underrated it.”

Smith looked a little uncomfortable for a moment, but then gathered his sneer, “It’s not against the rules. I think she pretends to know more than she does. She might be good on paper, but dueling is a different sort of thing altogether.”

“Did you see her the first time?” Alicia called out mockingly.

Everyone gathered around one of the dueling strips. Hermione took her place in her regular school uniform, feet spread shoulder width apart. Her face was flat. She’d developed a similar mental strategy to Harry’s and she was immersing herself. Zacharias was fidgeting. Harry handed off the baton of the referee to Cedric, not wanting to seem partial. None of the Black Isle Crew could be impartial with Hermione.

“All right, salute.” Cedric called. Hermione saluted robotically, a very precise upward flick and downward slash, every bit as crisp as all her wandwork. Zacharias managed to look pompous even when saluting.

“I’ll drop this scarf. When it hits the ground, you may start.” Cedric called.

The crowd grew silent as Cedric dropped the silk scarf. It floated to the ground, turning end over end. The two opponents stared at each other like gunslingers in the Old West.

The scarf hit the ground.

Hermione fired off the fastest stinging hex Harry had ever seen. He could barely follow her motion and he was about as fast as anyone he knew. Zacharias had assumed a fencing type stance with his wand hand leading and the stinging hex hit him in the right side of his bum, interrupting his stunning spell.

“Ouch!” Zacharias called.

“Ouch, ouch, owww!” he continued as the next several hit him as he danced around like a child in a sprinkler.

The DA laughed.

Hermione hit Zacharias with a modified wingardium, suspending him upside down, and then continued to pepper him with stinging hexes.

“Ok, ok, I yield!” he cried.

Hermione performed a non-verbal disarming hex, grabbing his wand as it swooped to her. She cancelled her levitation spell, lowering Smith slowly to the ground.

“Know your enemy and know yourself and you can fight a hundred battles without disaster.” Hermione quoted, glancing at Ron, “Zacharias, quit trying to prove something. We’re all here to learn, but you need to lose the chip.”

She walked over to him and helped him up, handing him back his wand.

“No hard feelings.” She said, as she walked back to Harry’s side.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Feb 26

They walked into the potion classroom in the dungeon. Professor Snape was sitting there quietly.

“Ah, my two…favorite…students.” He said sarcastically.

“Ah, my favorite professor.” Harry answered with a grin, “You’re in a good mood.”

“Hardly, Potter.” Snape said, sealing the classroom with layers of privacy charms, “The Dark Lord is interested in the date of your wedding. He is moving plans forward. Neither Dumbledore nor I is sure what plans he’s talking about. You should be prepared.”

Both of them nodded.

“He once again attempted to root through my mind.” Snape said, “I train regularly with the Headmaster… but I am afraid I may become too accustomed to his style. I hate to say it, but despite the fact that neither of you has mastered legilimency, your unique bond may provide…interesting…challenges. What I’d like to do today is have the two of you attack my mind while I defend.”

“Really?” Harry asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes, really, Potter.” Snape said disgustedly, “Despite my utter disdain for you, we are on the same side and the penalty for my failure in this art is death. My hesitancy to have either of you see my memories will motivate me. Do you have any more insipid questions? Perhaps you, Miss Granger? You often like to ask questions.”

“No professor.” She said even-tempered, “I actually understand how hard this must be to ask and am happy to help. I might wish you didn’t cloak your unease in your usual sarcasm, but I’ve come to expect it.”

Snape gave her a sneer so much less intense that for him it was almost a smile.

“Then let us begin.”

Hermione had communicated to Harry that they had to be truly ruthless. The two of them together attacked Snape’s mind over and over. Meanwhile, Snape tried to turn their attack back on them. He won the first round, having turned around the attack.

“That was you?” he asked, having seen when Hermione set his robes on fire at the Quidditch game first year, “I would have never thought the little bookworm capable…”

“Oh, shut up.” Hermione grumbled, “Are you ready?”

The second time, they beat his defenses and saw the Muggle attack he’d been part of to earn his Dark Mark. He’d broken into a house with two other Death Eaters. They’d told him these were prejudiced Muggles who’d killed a Pureblood child, but as soon as he got into the house he saw family portraits that looked like a normal loving family, the kind he’d wanted but hadn’t had as a child. He slowed, absorbing all the evidence in the house that contradicted what he’d been told to expect. He realized too late that he’d fallen behind his Death Eater ‘comrades’. He ran up the stairs as fast as he could, but was too slow, finding parents and a single child dead in their beds from the Avada Kedavra. He used the Killing Curse for the first time himself that day, killing the other Death Eaters and then setting the house on fire. His occlumency had been tested, but he’d kept his secret. He’d had to take the Dark Mark or die, but it started him on the path away from being truly loyal to Voldemort.

Snape managed to push them from his mind, glaring at them, his lank hair clinging damply to his forehead.

“Damn you, again.” He gritted out. As secretive as he was, he’d clearly decided that honing his already unmatched occlumency skills against the unprecedented challenge of a soul-bonded pair of capable (although not master) legilimens attacking in tandem was worth the loss of some of his secrets.

Severus managed to block them the next two attempts, but their third try put them into a set of memories he guarded very carefully. Harry saw the friendship with his mother in snippets, brief, but enough to realize that she was to Snape what Hermione was to him up to the end of their third year and the start of their bond, only Snape had no other friends, no Ron. He had acquaintances he had to be very cautious around as they were fully Slytherin and likely Death Eaters who wouldn’t approve of a half-blood Slytherin who was friends with a Mudblood. Harry watched in disgust as his father showed off and taunted Severus. He watched Severus’ horrible mistake, lashing out at Lily and could only imagine how he would feel if he’d done that to Hermione… actually a very close parallel, since he too was a half-blood and Hermione was muggle-born. They were pushed out of the memory right after seeing the look of disgust in Lily’s eyes, which the memory seemed to focus on, a look which probably lasted only seconds, but in Severus’ memory was endless.

“Get out!” Severus screamed. He stalked around the room like a wounded animal, sweeping some empty vials from a shelf onto the floor where they shattered. Harry and Hermione stood silently, afraid to say anything, afraid to even move. They weren’t sure whether he was going to kick them out or attack them.

“So now you know what your father was like.” Severus said in a voice which managed to be both vicious and wounded at the same time.

Harry ventured a nod, then his Gryffindor side manifested. “I may look just like him, but I’m not him. I know what you thought, but I didn’t grow up with the Potter riches. I have not been the most popular student at Hogwarts and I like to think I’m not that arrogant. I’m not my dad.”

Severus snorted, but Harry could tell he wasn’t totally disagreeing, which was more than he would have gotten before. Snape walked to a cabinet and opened it, pulling out a dusty bottle of firewhiskey.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think that may be enough for tonight.” He said dismissively, waving his long-fingered hand at them to go.

They walked up the stairs from the dungeon.

“Mind if we go to the Room of Requirement?” Harry asked, opening the Marauder’s Map and making sure Filch wasn’t in the way.

“Sure, Harry.” Hermione said sympathetically, her arm around his waist.

They climbed the stairs in a companionable silence. Harry was deep in thought trying to sort out what he’d learned. Once in the Room, they settled on a comfortable couch, almost identical to the one in the Gryffindor Common Room.

“How could my dad be like that? How could my mum fall for it?” Harry asked, “Snape really loved her. Her seeing him humiliated was too much; he was out of his mind.”

“Remember, Harry, we were in Snape’s mind.” Hermione said, “There are two sides to every story. I think we understand Professor Snape better now, but I wouldn’t let it shape your idea of your father too much. Fifteen years from now, if your son were to see Draco’s memories of you, would all of them portray you in the best light?”

“No, they wouldn’t.” Harry said quietly.

“No, they wouldn’t and that’s before the situation is complicated by a love triangle.” Hermione said. Feeling Harry’s disgust through the bond, she continued, “Yes, a love triangle. Your mum and Snape had a friendship before Hogwarts and he fell in love with her. It doesn’t seem like she felt the same way about him, but she still thought of him as a friend. She defended him and seemed to be disgusted at your dad’s behavior. I can see myself feeling the same way about a friend who I knew liked me. I’ve felt hints of that from Ron at times. If you and Ron didn’t get along and you and I didn’t share a bond, I could see us being in that situation.”

Harry sat there silently, trying to understand deeply emotional issues. They had never been his forte.

“Talk to Sirius.” Hermione urged, “He can tell you more about your dad. Remember, he didn’t look like the nicest young man, either, but we know how he is today.”

“You’re right.” Harry said, then grinned, “You’re always right. I’ll try not to think about it until I can talk to Sirius.”

“Speaking of Sirius, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.” Hermione said, “I was talking to Sirius once when we were on the island asking about the animagus transformation. He mentioned he had increased sense of smell and increased wound healing that carried over into his regular form from his Grim form. I wondered at the time why they didn’t start us on the transformation then, but now I get it. Dumbledore thought you might end up with a phoenix familiar like he had, given the parallels between you. If some of the abilities of the animagus form carry over, the abilities of a magical form, like a grim or a phoenix would be more useful than the abilities of a normal animal.

It’s really very interesting. For everyone we’ve seen, animagi always have the same patronus as their animagus form. I don’t know which came first, I suppose I’d have to ask, but Sirius has the Grim, McGonagall has a cat, your dad had a stag.

Now for those who aren’t animagi, but have a familiar, their patronus is the same as their familiar. Dumbledore’s the only one I can think of, but he has a phoenix patronus.

Now that brings us to us. We had patroni before you had Hedwig as phoenix familiar and before either of us were animagi. However, you deviated from the single example we had in that your patronus was based on your father’s, not on your familiar. Maybe that’s because Hedwig was not sufficiently magical at the time.

Now we also know from Remus that your mum’s patronus became a doe to match your dad’s. Why is mine still an otter? Besides, why should the woman’s change to match the man’s?!”

Harry chuckled, “Because the magical world hasn’t experienced the feminist revolution yet, Hermione?”

She huffed. “Well, the whole thing is confusing. I’m not sure what to expect from our patroni. I refuse to say patronuses, by the way, since that is really poor pluralization of a latin word.”

“I think you may have gotten off track.” Harry nudged, “Was this really what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Oh,” Hermione said thinking for a moment, “no, I wanted to talk to someone intelligent about this, but what I wanted to talk to you specifically about was what abilities might carry over to us in our normal forms from our phoenix forms. Sirius mentioned enhanced senses and healing for him. What could we do? I noticed you were able to control Fiendfyre much better than I expected during the duel. I think that could be one example. We should try for others. Can we do phoenix-style apparition? Can we heal with our tears? Oh, the tears thing brings up another question I had!”

Harry was still amazed at how fast Hermione’s mind could work when she got going.

“Go ahead.”

“You destroyed the horcrux in the diary with the basilisk fang. You were bitten, too. Why wasn’t the horcrux in your forehead destroyed?” Hermione asked.

“Hmmm…” Harry thought, “Because you bring it up connected to the subject of phoenix tears, I’m going to guess you thought the same thing I am, which is that I was saved before the venom could totally kill me. If the basilisk venom has somehow been reversed in the diary before the horcrux was destroyed, like it was in me, the horcrux might have remained.”

“That’s exactly what I think.” Hermione agreed, “Too bad you’re not like a goblin sword. If your magic incorporated the basilisk venom to make you stronger, you’d be poisonous like the basilisk!”

“Might be bad for you.” Harry chuckled.

“True,” Hermione said, “but maybe that’s another power we’ve gained from the phoenix transformation. Maybe we are immune to basilisk venom and gaze like they are.”

“Sometimes I think you think too much.” Harry said.

“Where would you be without me?” Hermione asked.

“Dead.” Harry said definitively.

They fell asleep together as the sofa transformed into a very comfortable bed.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

26 Feb

Harry walked down to the Great Hall holding Hermione’s hands. He was glad Ron had found Luna, because with the bond he realized they’d grown more insular, more wrapped up in each other and probably paid less attention to their other friends than they’d used to. Maybe that was part of growing older and dating, though. He was happy to catch Ron’s eye as they walked in to breakfast.

“Hey, Mate.” Ron said, “Saved you two seats.”

“Thanks.” Harry said, sliding onto the bench, “Had an interesting ‘remedial potions’ lesson last night.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it.” Ron said, “I think the Headmaster’s trying to catch your eye. That or he’s got hemorrhoids.”

Harry glanced over and saw Dumbledore gesturing him over. He walked up to the Head Table.

“Harry, I have to say I was disappointed to hear about your outburst in your remedial potions class.” Dumbledore said for Umbridge’s benefit, winking at Harry where she couldn’t see, sitting next to him.

“Oh, right.” Harry said, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“To see that it doesn’t, I’m going to need to talk to you in my office after breakfast.” Dumbledore said, “We’ll discuss your punishment that will be served today. Tell Miss Granger, it applies to her, too.”

“Right, Headmaster.” Harry said, “May I return to my breakfast?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore said.

Harry walked back to his seat and settled back in for breakfast.

“What was that about?” Ron asked.

“He wants to see us in his office after breakfast.” Harry said.

“Can I come?” Ron asked.

“Ummm…he didn’t say you could.” Harry said, “I’d be fine with it, though.”

“Thanks.” Ron said, digging into the huge mound of food on his plate.

After they’d eaten, the trio walked up to the Headmaster’s office. The gargoyle opened for Harry without password and they walked up the spiral staircase.

“Good to see you!” Dumbledore said, eyes sparkling, “Sorry about the deception, I didn’t want Madame Umbridge to suspect anything. Mr. Weasley, I’m glad you came with. Your oldest brother is expected by floo any moment.”

“Bill?” Ron asked.

“Yes, I am expecting Bill, Sirius, and Remus any moment now.” Dumbledore said.

The three talked about Quidditch prospects and upcoming OWL exams for a few moments. They all agreed that Gryffindor was a lock for the Quidditch cup this year as long as things continued as they had been. Hermione was worried about OWLs, but Harry assured the Headmaster they were likely over prepared already. Even Ron was ready this year, studying frequently with Luna, who was a year behind, but like Hermione normally studied ahead.

A few minutes later Sirius and Remus arrived together, followed almost immediately by Bill. The adults were all wearing sturdy clothing and boots, as if expecting to be outside. Bill had a number of pouches and a backpack with a coil of rope carefully stowed on the side.

“What’s all this about?” Ron asked.

“We’re going to go on a little expedition, Ronnie.” Bill said with a grin, “The Headmaster thought you were ready to come along.”

“All right!” Ron said with a grin.

“This is about as big a group as I think we can afford.” Professor Dumbledore said, “I think we could go in with a very small group, perhaps as few as one alone…”

“One alone is a never a good idea in the Curse Breaking field.” Bill interrupted.

“Yes, you convinced me of this.” Dumbledore said ruefully, “However, taking more people increases the risk of discovery, which then requires even more people to give a chance of defending ourselves. Some inclusions are essential. Harry may have a special ability when it comes to the horcruxes, so I think he needs to be there. If he’s there, then Hermione is another obvious choice. Bill for his Gringotts training, Sirius for his auror training, Remus has special resistances as a werewolf. I have certain skills and knowledge. Ronald, your brother thought you would like to come along and I thought I would give you the choice. I have already heard your enthusiasm, so I suppose the answer is ‘yes’”?

“Of course, Professor Dumbledore!” Ron said, “I’ve still got Harry’s back!”

“We’re going to portkey in to the cemetery Harry and Hermione saw last year. It is the ancestral Riddle cemetery. Very nearby is the former Gaunt residence. Hermione’s spell seems to indicate that’s where we will find one of the horcruxes. We could portkey directly, but I am unsure what wards have been cast and a mistake could be painful.”

Harry whispered Dobby’s name and sent him for dueling robes for he and Hermione. The specially toughened and enchanted clothing would be about as good as they could get for this expedition, lacking specific expedition attire. Ron shrugged off an offer to pick anything up for him, as he didn’t have any specialized clothing at all and his weekend clothes were as good as anything else. The two took turns changing in the Headmaster’s bedroom off the office.

“We’re ready Headmaster.” Harry said as the two rejoined the group.

“Ok, everyone grab the portkey.” Dumbledore said, “Wands out, we do not know what we will see when we arrive.”

With everyone holding a rope Dumbledore had enchanted as a portkey, the Headmaster touched it with his wand and they all experienced the usual feeling of a hook behind the gut.

Harry landed carefully, dropping into a crouch to minimize his profile. A quick scan of the surroundings and he darted off behind a headstone. The others quickly dispersed to avoid forming a knot that could be targeted all at once.

“All clear here.” Sirius said professionally.

“Clear on this side.” Remus called.

“I don’t see anything hostile over here.” Bill said.

Once Hermione had cleared the arc in front of her, making sure nothing hostile was in sight, she cast the point me spell, calibrated to the horcrux signature but excluding Harry’s scar.

“This way, Headmaster.” She said pointing down a narrow country lane.

Dumbledore nodded and gestured everyone that way. Sirius and Remus took point, with Bill just behind. Bill was casting revealing and locating charms all along, looking for traps or wards.

“Clear ahead.” Bill said.

They slowly trooped forward, keeping decent spacing to avoid getting bunched up in case they ran into a trap or ambush. They eventually turned down an even narrower lane, little more than a pair of dirt ruts that had once been paved with stones.

“Stop here.” Bill called, “First ward.”

Bill carefully marked the margin of the ward and then cast spells until he’d neutralized it.

“Just an alarm ward.” Bill said, “It’s down now.”

They continued to move forward. The house on the property was just a shack and in disrepair even for that title. It was half hidden among a tangle of sickly looking dark trees. The walls were covered in moss. The roof was tiled, but so many tiles were broken or had fallen that the rafters were visible like bones in a half-rotten skeleton. A snake skin was nailed to the front door, obviously charmed not to completely rot, although it was still obviously ancient.

“Stop.” Bill called out, “Second ward. Looks more serious.”

Bill marked the boundaries of this ward. It seemed to be an outer ward for the shack itself, starting at the first small step up that would eventually lead to the front door. It was always about ten feet from the wall.

“I may need a hand here, Professor Dumbledore. I can cast the spell, but this is a powerful ward. I suspect Riddle himself cast it.”

Dumbledore nodded and added his strength to Bill’s efforts. The ward quickly fell. Bill continued to cast detection spells, only reluctantly deciding there were no other clear wards before the door.

“Remember, no matter what we find inside, do not touch it.” Dumbledore urged, “It could be cursed and very few wizards know more or nastier curses than Tom Riddle.”

They walked inside. Sirius and Remus stayed outside, not wanting to leave the group exposed if Death Eaters came up by surprise. They drafted Ron to help them guard the outside.

Harry crept inside, trying not to touch anything. The impression he got of the shack was of a wizarding residence. There was no sign of muggle technology at all, not so much as a light bulb. The shack was small and the furniture was rotting, but clearly had never been very expensive to begin with. Rusting pots were scattered haphazardly around, as if someone had taken them from the kitchen and eaten directly from them wherever they’d cared to. The grime in the bottom couldn’t be called rotting food, it was too long gone for that, but that’s probably what it had been.

Hermione walked forward with her wand held out level to the floor, using the point me. She walked around the center point of the main room until she had confirmed the wand continually pointed there.

“I think it’s under the floor.” She said, “Or invisible, but I don’t see any enchantments above the floor itself.”

“Ok, stay back.” Bill said, “In most ward schemes, the center is the most heavily guarded. This may take a while.”

He and Dumbledore chanted for several minutes. Very complex wand movements left trails of multi-colored fire. Hermione watched very closely, but Harry continued to look around the house, striving to understand Tom Riddle. The shack could have been out of a movie like “Deliverance”, it was so primitive. Obviously the people who’d lived here hadn’t aspired to anything greater. After the memories Dumbledore had showed him, he suspected they were already so convinced of their own inherent superiority that they didn’t even realize they lived in squalor.

Despite the fact that he wasn’t watching closely, Harry could feel the powerful wards around the item item’s hiding place fall. It felt like the fabric of reality itself warped around magic that powerful, especially concentrated into such a small area.

After they’d cleared all the wards, Dumbledore gestured Harry over.

“I suspect you are the most suited to actually seize the object.” Dumbledore said, “It should feel the other fragment and conclude you are not hostile, which may protect you in case we missed any defenses.”

“Here you go, Harry.” Bill said, offering him a pair of iron tongs and a pair of dragonhide gloves. Harry donned the gloves and grasped the tongs, looking down into the square hole they’d opened in the floor. It had clearly been conjured, since it was lined with carefully aligned stones, the joins so invisible it seemed seamless. A small door similar to the doors into the chamber of secrets lay about a foot below the level of the floor.

Harry imagined himself talking directly to the serpents carved in relief on the door and said, “Open.” In Parseltongue. The locks unfastened and the door slid open. Inside there was a golden box.

“Watch out, Harry.” Bill said, “I want to be sure there weren’t any wards hidden by that door or triggered by its opening.”

He carefully performed his detection routine, supplementing his already advanced auramancy, one of the invaluable skills of the truly talented Curse Breaker. After a few moments, he leaned back.

“It’s clear, Harry. He obviously thought he would be the only parselmouth able to access this hiding place. Blasting it open would have been truly difficult.”

Harry leaned over the box and grasped it with the tongs. He brought it up, lowering it carefully into a heavily warded box, similar to those they’d locked the other horcruxes into.

“I didn’t detect any anti-portkey wards.” Bill said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Harry felt a ripple, tiny flashes of magic outside, followed by a larger spike.

“Oh, shit.” Bill called, “I felt that! A heavy anti-portkey and anti-apparition ward just went up.”

Boom! The sound of a blasting curse came from outside. Ron ran into his brother Bill at the door.

“Death Eaters!” Ron called out, his face white, the freckles standing out in sharp contrast, “Sirius and Remus are covering, they told me to get inside.”

“Double shit.” Bill said, “Trapped in here isn’t the best place to be. It’s not like the walls are going to protect us much.” He backed away from the door, letting Ron rush inside. Remus ran inside a moment later, followed closely by Sirius, casting while walking through the door backwards. Hexes shattered fragments of the doorframe, sending splinters flying into the room.

Harry hurried to a window, avoiding silhouetting himself while trying to get a peek outside. In the arc he could see, he could see at least ten Death Eaters. If they’d spread themselves out to cover the entire perimeter of the house, there would be more, probably at least thirty. He attempted to integrate what Hermione was seeing with his own view and quickly came to the conclusion that since they seemed equally spread out from her window, there probably were thirty or so.

“I can see about ten from here.” Harry called, “Hermione sees the same. I’d guess there’s thirty out there, spaced around the whole house.”

“Maybe they’re not all the way around, yet!” Ron shouted, running to a back door in what would have been a kitchen at one point. He forced open the back door, having to push it against an accumulation of dirt and leaves that kept it from opening easily. The hinges squealed like a banshee.

Boom! Ron tumbled to the side, away from the doorframe, as the door itself was blasted off its hinges by a powerful curse. Harry saw blood spurt and thought Ron’s left arm might have been blasted off as he’d been trying to open the door, but he didn’t take time to think about it beyond sending a quick call for help to Hermione as he sent a chain of SPEARs out of the now open hole where the door had been. He glimpsed a Death Eater getting vaporized as the dark robed figure was hit by several of the powerful combination spells, but barely had time to react, instead quickly conjuring a thick oak replacement for the back door. Hermione had dragged Ron back from the wreckage of the door and out of the directly line of fire. She was quickly casting healing charms.

“He’s unconscious. We need to get him to Madame Pomphrey. The damage is more than I can heal.” She said desperately.

Sirius, Remus, Bill, and Dumbledore were all running from window to window, firing powerful spells out. Dumbledore looked back at Hermione’s statement.

“We must escape.” Dumbledore said, “Fawkes!”

Harry was covering the back, running from window to window, trying to be unpredictable. He varied his spells as well, transfiguring trees to attack the Death Eaters at one window, firing more explosive curses from another. He had to actively use occlumency to protect his mind from the repetitive image of the anonymous Death Eater he’d hit at the door, but he continued to unleash his magic to its fullest extent, as he knew if he let up, they’d die.

“Hedwig!” he called out loud and in his mind, not knowing if it would work. He’d never tried to summon his familiar since her transformation.

Time was moving erratically. Hermione had somehow had time to stabilize Ron, call out her warning, and start moving from window to window herself. Harry caught a quick flash of one of her black hole curses sucking a number of Death Eaters who were hiding behind the same deadfall in before disappearing, leaving only body parts behind with one end compressed beyond recognition.

Harry felt the familiar magic signature as a phoenix flashed into existence in a blast of red-gold flame.

“Everyone, grab Fawkes’ tail!” Dumbledore called out.

Harry started to run to the center of the room, where Fawkes had appeared when Hedwig showed up in a burst of white fire. Hermione instantly adjusted her trajectory, running to his side. Harry pointed his wand and called, “Accio, Ron!” He caught his friend in his left arm, grasping Hedwig’s tail feathers with his right after pushing his wand into his wrist holster. The tall gangly teenager felt featherlight, whether it was because of adrenaline or something else, Harry had no idea. No sooner than he grabbed Hedwig than the walls of the house disappeared. Someone hit it with Fiendfyre! There was a flash and he closed his eyes, expecting to die.

“Harry!” Hermione yelled.

Harry cracked an eye open, expecting to see the demonic flames about to roast them or alternatively whatever afterlife wizards experienced, but instead he saw the infirmary.

“Harry, get Ron to a bed!” Hermione insisted.

“We lived?” Harry asked stunned, while he picked Ron up easily in his arms, caring him to the bed next to his own usual spot.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we have?” Hermione asked.

“You didn’t see the Fiendfyre?” Harry asked in return.

“Fiendfyre?” Hermione said shocked, “No, those idiots used Fiendfyre? Only a few really strong willed wizards can control it. I was surprised when you were able to turn it around on Dumbledore. Unless they’ve got some of the inner circle with them, whoever cast it may have killed them all.”

Pomphrey came running out from her office after hearing them.

“Mr. Potter! Miss Granger? What…?”

“It’s Ron Weasley!” Hermione said, “He was hit by a blasting curse or by part of a door that was hit by a blasting curse. It hit his left arm. I was able to stop the bleeding and do an initial cleaning charm, but I didn’t know how to regrow the arm. I didn’t close it fully, because I think it probably needs to be cleaned some more.”

“I daresay you saved Mr. Weasley’s life.” Poppy said, “Mr. Potter, go grab some blood replenishing potion for me while I look at the wound.”

Harry nodded and stumbled away. Ron’s arm! If it didn’t heal well, he wouldn’t be able to play Quidditch and he’d just started. He said he wanted to be an auror like Harry sometimes talked about, but Harry thought he might prefer to be a professional Keeper. Both of those dreams might be in danger if he lost his arm.

“Miss Granger, help me remove his shirt. Use the cutting charm, just don’t cut the boy!” Harry heard distantly as he reached the potion stores. He quickly found the right potion and grabbed several bottles before hurrying back.

“Good job, Mr. Potter, pour the first one in his mouth.” Pomphrey said.

Dumbledore walked into the infirmary with Sirius, Remus, and Bill Weasley behind him.

“I hoped you would be here, Harry.” Dumbledore said, “We saw you grabbing Hedwig, so Fawkes took us to my office just before the Fiendfyre hit. How is Mr. Weasley?”

Bill ran over to look down at his brother, looking pale and scared, but clearly having been around injuries before in his career.

“Out!” Pomphrey yelled, “Miss Granger stays as my assistant, Mr. Potter stay nearby as our gopher. The rest of you need to be distant and quiet, understood? Bill Weasley? You may want to inform Ronald’s parents that he has been injured. We’ll have more word for them as soon as possible. It is too early for them to see him.”

Bill gave one sharp nod before walking away.

“Harry, you have the box?” Dumbledore asked quietely.

“Yes, sir.” Harry said, feeling it in his pocket.

“Good. Do not open it. Bring it to my office once Mr. Weasley is stable. I will take the others there. We have to alert Arthur and Molly. I also want to let Madame Bones, the head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If she is able to get aurors there quickly enough, we may be able to capture some of the Death Eaters.” Dumbledore said, already walking towards the doors.

Harry watched quietly as Madame Pomphrey and Hermione cared for Ron’s wound. Poppy cleaned it with a variety of spells, initially pulling large splinters out, but with later castings getting smaller fragments and eventually nothing.

“Will he regain use of his arm?” Harry asked quietly. He heard Hermione make a small noise, perhaps a sniffle, but she quickly controlled herself.

“I’m uncertain, Mr. Potter.” Poppy said heavily, “I’ll likely consult with one of my colleagues from St. Mungos before I’ll know for sure. It would have helped if you’d been able to bring the rest of his arm with you, but it sounds like it was destroyed by the curse and if not, burnt up in Fiendfyre, so I can understand why you didn’t.”

“It was chaos.” Harry said hollowly.

“I don’t know how these things always happen around you, Mr. Potter.” Pomphrey said, “I’ve done what I can do for now. I’m going to keep him under until we decide what we’re going to do. It would be cruel to wake him before we know.”

Harry reached down and squeezed his friend’s right hand, before walking towards the door. Hermione knelt and kissed Ron’s forehead before catching up to him. Harry could feel her unease and sadness. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked.

They walked back to Gryffindor tower. At the portrait Hermione gave the password and walked in.

“Harry, Hermione!” Neville said, then noticed their condition, “What’s wrong with you, two?”

“I need to change, Neville.” Harry said, “Come upstairs and I’ll tell you a bit.”

“Where’s Ron?” Ginny asked, “I haven’t seen him since breakfast. I assumed he was with you.”

“Come upstairs with me, Ginny.” Hermione said tiredly, “I want to get changed and then we can go to Dumbledore’s office.”

Ginny nodded. Hermione was relieved she hadn’t insisted on being told right away. They walked up the girl’s staircase and to Hermione’s bed. She stripped off her dusty, grimy dueling robes. You couldn’t see blood against the deep black, but she knew it was there. Winky popped in and whisked the robes away almost before the hit the bed and was gone, sensing Hermione didn’t want to talk.

“Ginny,” Hermione said, grabbing her toiletries basket and walking nude to their bathroom, “Ron was with us and he’s been hurt. He’s going to be ok, but his left arm was injured. Not his wand arm, but his left arm was injured when a Death Eater tried to blow open a door he was guarding. I did first aid and we got him back here. Madame Pomphrey has him stabilized, but she’s trying to figure out how much can be done for his arm.”

Ginny was silent for a few moments. Hermione could see her gathering her thoughts. She clearly wanted to ask a million questions, but she thought through what Hermione had said first. Hermione turned on the shower arching over a Victorian clawfoot tub. There were ten tubs oriented in a half circle, perfect for girls bathing or showering together to talk. While the water warmed up, Hermione warded the room for privacy, then stepped into the spray. Ginny lowered herself onto a bench while Hermione showered.

“Death Eaters? What happened?” Ginny asked.

“We went to Voldemort’s family house. More of a shack really…” Hermione said, “We had to find something there. We did, but we must have set off an alarm somehow. Thirty Death Eaters showed up. We were trapped in the shack. Your brother was hurt when he tried to find us a way out in the back as someone was coming in. We had the phoenixes return us here so we could get help for him and because the Death Eaters set the house on fire with Fiendfyre.”

“Whoa.” Ginny said, “You say he’s all right?”

“Except for the arm and Madame Pomphrey’s not sure about that, yet. She may be able to fix it or she may not. Most of it is missing right now.”

“I hope she can fix it.” Ginny said, “Ron’s been doing so much better this year. He’s really doing well as Keeper, he’s got Luna and she’s head-over-heels for him…oh, no. Luna! Hermione, I’m going to go find Luna. She’ll want to know.”

“She should.” Hermione agreed, “Find Luna and take her to see him. We have business at Dumbledore’s office which may take awhile, but we’ll join you afterwards if we’re able.”

Hermione dried herself and dressed, and then she and Ginny walked down to the common room. Harry and Neville were waiting.

Ginny threw herself into Neville’s arms and he comforted her. Harry gave him a nod over Ginny’s shoulder. Harry and Hermione left the common room for Dumbledore’s office, while Neville walked Ginny to the infirmary.

In Dumbledore’s office, Sirius, Remus, Bill, and Dumbledore sat around the Headmaster’s desk. They’d obviously charmed their clothes and skin clean, but were still wearing the same clothes.

“Ah, Harry, Hermione, welcome.” Dumbledore said, “We have completed the difficult duty of informing Arthur and Molly Weasley that their youngest son has been injured. They of course wanted to come directly here, but Bill convinced them there would be no benefit until it’s determined what can be done. Now that you’re here, we need to discuss what to do with the horcruxes.”

Harry looked at him. “Can’t it wait until Ron’s better?”

“No, Harry.” Dumbledore said, “Now Tom knows that we have discovered his horcruxes. He knows that we have found the one in the Gaunt house and I doubt he will fail to check the others. He may become desperate enough to attack us, hoping to stop us before we destroy them. We must destroy them now.”

Harry nodded, then looked at Hermione. She was the researcher between the two of them.

“I think we talked about it before.” Hermione said, “There are multiple ways of destroying a horcrux. Basilisk venom is one, which Harry proved during our second year. I believe Fiendfyre is another. However, both of those will utterly destroy the item with the horcrux. These are priceless magical heirlooms, some of the last remnants of the founders. There may be another way using your technique for novel magic, Headmaster. If someone were to be able to sense magic well enough, he might be able to use pure magic to carefully ‘pry’ or ‘cut’ the horcrux free of the host. I came up with this theory while trying to decide what to do about the one horcrux I am most concerned about.” Hermione carefully referenced the horcrux in Harry’s scar not wanting everyone to know about it. “I think using it on the locket, the diadem, and the ring will allow us to test my theory. One benefit would be to possibly preserve the founders’ artifacts. The other would be to gain experience in a technique that might be useful to separate the most important horcrux.”

“Who do you plan to do the prying?” Dumbledore asked, looking at her closely.

“Well, at first I thought of you, Headmaster.” Hermione said, “You have the most experience with the technique and the most experience, so likely the best sense for magic. However, I decided that Harry’s affinity for these fragments would allow him to sense their connections best. Harry and I together will be able to do it. Harry will focus on breaking the connections, while I focus on defending and anchoring Harry.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Where did you plan on doing this working?”

“I considered here in your office, but it is within the Hogwarts wards. If something goes wrong and a fragment gets free, I don’t want it to be able to possess a student, someone with no defenses who we would be reluctant to kill. Let’s not hand Voldemort any freebies.” Hermione said, “I would rather do it in the Chamber of Secrets. We’ll have Hedwig and Fawkes ferry us down there. You and I can build a protective circle with Harry and I, perhaps with Hedwig, on the inside. The rest of you on the outside to observe, monitor, and intervene if necessary.”

Dumbledore smiled, “Well thought through Miss Granger. I think it’s a decent plan. If it doesn’t work, we will bring the sword and decide at that time whether to use the sword or Fiendfyre.”

Fawkes and Hedwig were able to carry the six of them with the horcruxes in a single trip due to the magical strength of the phoenix which was out of proportion to its size. They quickly lit the space. Hermione, Dumbledore, and Bill began warding. Hermione created a small heavily warded ritual circle, big enough for herself, Harry, and Hedwig. Harry had the sword on him in case it became necessary. She carefully marked the circle with cardinal points and inscribed runes all along the circumference. Meanwhile, Dumbledore warded the outside of the chamber with Bill Weasley’s assistance, to further protect the school should something get free.

Once the wards were all in place, Harry and Hermione settled cross legged on the stone floor within their ritual circle. Hedwig perched on Harry’s shoulder, singing a low tune of protection and encouragement. The two bond-mates opened their bond as widely as possible, joining their minds and magics as closely as they could. Then Harry opened the first box, the locket, and examined it closely with auramancy. He could easily see the underlying magic of the locket, contaminated with the dark magic of the horcrux. Harry carefully trickled his magic into the locket, trying to push the dark magic into a ball. It shrank up under his offense, beginning to look like a malignant spider with a central body of utter blackness and multiple legs tied into the magic of the locket itself and refusing to let go. Harry lost himself in the effort to slowly pry each leg or connection from the locket. At first, he would no sooner get one connection free and move on to the next when the first would snap back, reattaching itself. He learned that he had to pull it free and then guard it while simultaneously attempting to loosen the next. It was painstaking work, but slowly progressed. He was working on the final connection while having to guard against all the others. Hermione was feeding him strength and guarding him in case the fragment broke free and tried to attach to him. The final connection was resisting, so he funneled more power from his core and felt a sudden snap and the blackness was completely separate from the locket. He and Hermione both attacked it and with a shriek it dissipated.

They proceeded to do the same with the cup and the diadem.

When they reached the final horcrux they had possession of, Harry pulled out the golden box. He carefully opened it and looked inside.

“It’s a ring.” Harry said.

“Let me see.” Dumbledore said, coming to the edge of the circle and carefully visually examing the ring.

“Oh, my.” Dumbledore said, “It’s not just a ring. The stone is the resurrection stone, one of the legendary Hallows.”

“Those are just legend, aren’t they?” Sirius asked.

“No, not just legend, although there’s so much legend that the truth is obscured.” Dumbledore said, “Stop there. We need to examine this more closely.”

“No.” Hermione said flatly, “It doesn’t matter what it’s attached to. The horcrux must be destroyed. This method gives us the best chance of preserving the stone, whatever it is, but the horcrux must be destroyed.”

“You foolish child!” Dumbledore raged, his magical aura swirling about him, unleashed to a degree none of them had ever seen, “You do not know what you speak of! I have been searching for that for most of my lifetime! Give me the stone!”

“Even with the circle between you and the stone it is influencing you!” Hermione cried, “Harry, you must destroy it!”

Dumbledore raised his unique wand and started to point it, but at that moment, Fawkes grabbed him and disappeared in his usual flash of flame.

Harry focused on the ring and with the experience gained from the earlier horcruxes, was able to painstakingly pry the evil soul fragment free of the ring, where he and Hermione could destroy it. With a final shriek the black mist blew away.

Hermione gathered all the horcrux hosts together, carefully examining them.

Fawkes reappeared with Dumbledore. The Headmaster looked every bit of his age, haggard and remorseful. He looked at each of the others.

“I am sorry.” He said raggedly, “Please forgive an old man. I told the truth. I have searched for the three Hallows of legend for most of my life to try to right a wrong I was part of as a youth. My desire to own and to use the Stone was enough to give the horcrux a foothold to influence me. Luckily, Fawkes my friend saved me from myself. It is done, yes? Your technique worked, Hermione! You should be very proud. With minimal adaptation, you should be able to use it to separate the final horcrux in our possession.”

Hermione looked up at all of them with tears in her eyes.

“No, we won’t.” she wept, holding up the locket. It was clearly shattered. “It doesn’t always leave the host intact. I can’t risk it.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: Well, what did you think about the latest chapters?

Specifically, what do people think about Ron’s injury? Should it be healed relatively easily? Or should he have to go around with only one arm for a while? Can arms be regrown in the wizarding world? I actually have a small, small subplot planned for this, but I could still change it, so will accept opinions.

What do people think about Harry’s Horcrux? How are they going to beat it? I’ve had the answer planned for most of the time I’ve been writing this, but am still questioning my method. Do my readers think that JKR’s way of destroying it was the only way or even the best way?

I doubt I’ll write much more Quidditch. I find it a bit boring and not a big interest of mine. It does lighten it up, though, and get Harry out with the other students.

DA duels are another one I’d like to write more of, but become monotonous. Duels between novice or intermediate duelists are boring. It’s punch, counter punch, punch, counterpunch. Read the fights in the book…there’s not much to them. So I won’t write many. I want to save my best duels for Dumbledore vs. Harry and eventually Voldemort vs. Harry (or vs. Dumbledore).

28. Phoenix Guardant

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter – JKR does.

Chapter 28: Phoenix Guardant

28 Feb (early morning)

Harry and Hermione were exhausted. A long day including a fight with Death Eaters and the destruction of all the horcruxes they had so far gathered had drained them both. Sleep was almost unavoidable, but both wanted to see Ron.

Earlier, after the destruction of the horcrux attached to the Slytherin ring, the Headmaster has spent long minutes casting increasingly complex spells on the ring. Ultimately, he’d finally appeared satisfied.

“Harry,” Dumbledore started hesitatingly, “I want you to keep this with you. From now on, I’ll recommend you keep this and your father’s cloak on your person at all times. It will become clearer why I ask this of you at a later time. I have examined it in every way I know how and it appears the soul fragment has been removed and destroyed. If you wear it, I will cast a strong notice-me-not charm on it so it is not apparent to others.”

Harry nodded, slipping the crude gold ring on his finger. Dumbledore used his unique wand to carefully hide the ring.

“Despite everything else that happened today,” Dumbledore began, “what you accomplished here was truly remarkable. I had almost no hope that we would come this far without much more loss. Now, you are both very tired. I understand if you have to check on Ronald before you go to bed. I will have Fawkes take us all there. I also want to check on Madame Pomfrey’s progress.”

With a flash, they were all there. The couple crept closer to Ron’s bed. Luna, Ginny, Neville, and the twins sat beside it. Luna was holding Ron’s right hand, stroking it even though he was under sleeping potions. Poppy Pomfrey stood, speaking to an older wizard in healer’s robes. They both looked up as the group approached.

“Ah, Headmaster Dumbledore!” the healer said, “I am William Averoes, chief of regenerative medicine at St Mungos. I am familiar with your work on the uses of dragon blood and interested in the healing properties of phoenix tears. I have wanted to meet you for some time.”

“Pleased, Healer Averoes.” Dumbledore said gravely, “I will leave myself at your disposal at some time in the future, but for now I must inquire: how is Mr. Weasley?”

“A difficult question.” Averoes said, “He is fine. Madame Pomfrey has stabilized him completely. He has no more chance of dying from this wound than you or I do. However, I know that’s not what you’re truly asking. The real question regarding the boy is whether we can regenerate his arm and I am afraid the answer to that question is no.”

Hermione gasped, Ginny started sobbing, and Luna just looked on silently, her eyes even wider than usual.

“We have amazing ability to repair wounds with magic.” The healer continued, “Had he merely mangled it, I would be able to heal it. If the bone was damaged beyond fixing, we could disappear it and regrow. However, there must be a scaffold of some type. With the entire limb gone, there is nothing for the new bone to follow. Nervous tissue in particular is difficult to regrow and without bone and muscle for it to follow, it is impossible. Without viable nerves, any limb we attempted to create would be damaged to uselessness within days by an active young man and would be completely insensate during that time. I am afraid the task is impossible with our current knowledge.”

“You mentioned you were interested in phoenix tears.” Hermione asked, “I know it is unusual to have them available, but we do. Is there any chance that would help?”

Averoes nodded, “You are already gaining a reputation in the Wizarding world, Miss Granger and this question shows clearly why. Phoenix tears are one of the most powerful magical healing substances known. The phoenix itself is symbolic of regeneration. However, the research done in this area, which your Headmaster already knows since it was performed when Auror Moody lost his leg and happened to have a friend, your very own Professor Dumbledore who had access to a phoenix… well, they were unable to heal his injury. The tears will heal the open wound immediately and then the growth stops. There must be a framework for the regrowth to follow or it just closes the wound.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, her voice trembling.

“My dear, I’m so sorry.” Averoes answered gently, “I am sure. I will continue to research and consult a few other sources I haven’t looked at recently, but all the information I have tells me this is not possible. Mr. Weasley will be best served by being woken and started with rehabilitation to help him learn to use a prosthetic, like Auror Moody’s leg.”

“We’ll wake him in the morning.” Poppy said, “I’ll contact his parents so they can be here for him. Now, the rest of you must go to bed. I know how much you care for him, but you can come back in the morning. There’s no use in watching him sleep.”

Harry took another look at Ron and grasped his friend’s right shoulder. He squeezed Ron’s shoulder while giving Luna a one-armed hug with his other arm. He patted Ginny’s back as he walked by. Hermione knelt and gave Ron’s unconscious body a hug, before joining Harry.

“All right, there Fred? George?” Harry asked as the twins joined them in preparing to walk back to the Gryffindor tower.

“We’re ok, Harry.” George said.

“Just sad.” Fred continued, “For all the grief we’ve given Ron through the years, we would have never wished this kind of injury on him. Of all of us, it’ll hit him hardest.”

“He’ll do better than you think.” Luna said as she walked up, “He’s braver than anyone realizes.”

“We know, Luna.” Hermione said, “I remember first year when he realized he had to sacrifice himself for us to win the chess game. He was brave then. He and Harry have kept me terrified ever since then.”

Ginny didn’t say anything, sniffling and leaning heavily on Neville. The solemn group trudged back to Gryffindor tower.

28 Feb

The same group all woke early and returned to the infirmary wing. They found Arthur and Molly Weasley already by Ron’s bedside. Harry could barely look at them, he felt so guilty. He gathered his Gryffindor courage and walked up to them.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry said, his voice breaking slightly, “I didn’t mean for this to happen to Ron.”

Molly swept Harry into an uncomfortably tight hug, but his relief that she wasn’t mad was so overwhelming that he welcomed it, even though he worried about not being able to breathe.

“It wasn’t your fault, Harry.” She said, “We talked to Bill and he told us most of what happened. You two should have never been on a mission for the order, but I blame Dumbledore for that and not you.”

“As you should.” Albus said, walking up, “Arthur, Molly, I too must give my deepest apologies for what happened to Ronald. I assure you that his presence was essential to what we were doing. I would not have risked his safety for anything other than the greatest import.”

Molly shook her head, clearly still disagreeing, but Dumbledore’s reputation was such that she wouldn’t express her disagreement. She grabbed Ginny and held her daughter tightly, then released her and grabbed Luna.

“Meep!” Luna said, surprised, but then clearly relaxed in Molly’s grasp.

“Oh, you poor dear.” Molly said, rocking the petite blond girl, “You must be beside yourself. Ron will be ok. The Weasley men are strong.”

Luna gave a small smile, “I know. That’s what I told the others.”

“You’ve figured it out early then.” Molly nodded, “Good. Now why don’t we wake my son?”

The large group gathered around Ron’s bed. Poppy took a vial of a bright orange potion, so orange that Harry momentarily thought she picked the color to go along with Ron’s Chudley Cannon’s obsession, and unstoppered it.

“I have already determined that his other injuries are healed. All of my diagnostic spells tell me Mr. Weasley will be fine. He needs a chance to talk to his family and friends, but I warn you, if he becomes tired or you agitate him, I will have to evict the lot of you!” Madame Pomfrey glared around at the hospital wing, looking very intimidating. Satisfied she’d impressed her seriousness on them, she carefully tipped a couple of drops into Ron’s mouth. Ron started moving almost immediately and his eyes soon snapped open.

“Wha…where am I?” he said surprised, looking around, “We were in the house and now…?”

“Mr. Weasley, please do not say more about where we were.” Dumbledore said, “We must keep certain things secret, even now. We have returned to Hogwarts. You were injured and it is the next day.”

“Ron, my poor son! How do you feel?” Molly asked.

“A bit sore, mum.” Ron said, “Otherwise ok. Hey, Harry, Hermione, you made it. Good!”

“We made it.” Harry said, “We had to flee right after you were hurt, but none of the rest of us got hurt badly.”

“Badly?” Ron asked quietly, “Professor Dumbledore said the next day. You’ve been hurt so bad before you’ve been asleep for days. I’m ok, aren’t I?”

There was silence as nobody wanted to say anything. Molly Weasley burst into tears. Arthur moved behind his wife and stroked her back. He seemed to gather himself, deciding how to explain what he had to tell his youngest son. To everyone’s surprise, though, it was Luna who spoke up first.

“You’re ok, Ronald.” Luna said determinedly, “You’re not in any danger, but your left arm was hurt badly. You’ve lost most of it and the doctors say they can’t regrow it.”

She knelt down next to him. He used his right arm to brush the blonde hair away from her face, taking comfort in the act. Ron was silent for a few minutes.

“Well, at least it wasn’t my wand arm.” He said, managing a clearly forced grin, “I’d hate to have to learn to use a wand left handed.”

“That’s the spirit, Ron.” Fred said.

“Don’t let it get you down.” George continued, “We’ll all be around to give you a hand.”

Molly looked like she was going to beat George, but Ron chuckled and so she held her tongue.

“We did what we’d gone to do?” Ron asked, looking carefully at Harry and Hermione.

“We did, Ron.” Harry said, “We wouldn’t have made it without you.”

“Well, that’s something, then.” Ron said, “Where’s breakfast? I’m starved.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

They ate breakfast by Ron’s bedside. Dumbledore commanded some of the Hogwarts’ house elves to bring them breakfast and they quickly had trays full of more food than even the Weasleys could eat. After breakfast, Poppy chased everyone away, but Luna refused to go. Seeing how much she helped Ron’s spirits, Madame Pomfrey allowed her to stay.

Before he left, Harry leaned down next to his best mate, “We destroyed all of them we had. He’s only got two left.”

Ron nodded, a serious look on his face, “I’ll be ok, mate. I always wanted to do something heroic. Losing my arm fighting Voldemort fits the bill, eh?”

Harry nodded, speechless at how brave Ron was being, then left at a dirty look from Pomfrey.

“Ok, Mr. Weasley.” Poppy said, “You’re going to come to hate me, but I’m going to teach you how to do things for yourself. First things, first, get out of bed. Then I’ll have you dress yourself.”

Ron started to get out of bed like he had a million times before, but tumbled back into the pillow when he instinctively tried to put weight on his left arm and found no support.

“Bloody hell!” Ron cursed.

“Language, Mr. Weasley!” Poppy snapped, “You’re going to have setbacks and surprises. Let me make it clear right now that you’re not going to be allowed to turn into a sailor. Now try again!”

Poppy Pomfrey was like a demented drill sergeant. Ron pushed himself all morning and only Luna’s presence kept him from breaking down into tears. When he would feel himself get close, he’d look at her. She returned his looks with no discomfort, no pity. Ron would have seen either immediately. Luna didn’t help, knowing that right now he had to learn to do as much as he could on his own. Later, when he had to do these things for real, then she could help sometimes, but for now he had to see what he could and couldn’t do.

“How am I ever going to make it?” he lamented later, as he tried to eat lunch. Only Luna was there, Madame Pomfrey having left them alone and forbidden the others from coming back.

“I can’t even feed myself.” Ron said roughly, “I wanted to be an auror or maybe Keeper for the Cannons. Now I’m going to be lucky if I can dress myself, feed myself… Merlin help me when I need to wipe my own arse!”

“Ronald.” Luna said, “I will not let you start to feel sorry for yourself. You’ve still got your wand arm. After lunch, I’ll do some reading about household charms. Maybe you can do some of this with spells. I’ll get Hermione to help me.”

Ron nodded, grateful. “I’m going to take a nap. I’m worn out.”

Luna smiled at him, tucking the blanket around his chin and kissing him. “You do that, Ronald. Get some rest and I’ll see you before dinner.”

Luna walked to Pomfrey’s office. “Ronald is sleeping. I’m going to go see what I can find about household charms. There may be some spells that can help him do a few things he’s having trouble with.”

Poppy nodded, “You did well with him this morning, dear. Keep it up. I know it’s difficult, but you can’t do it all for him.”

Luna smiled, “He wouldn’t let me if I tried, but it would make him mad to see I didn’t think he could do it. I’ll be back.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

While Ron was trying to relearn how to function with one arm, Harry pulled Hermione into the Room of Requirement.

“I can’t do this.” He said, pacing back in forth in their version of the Gryffindor common room, one of the regular configurations they’d grown accustomed to requesting, “Ron was finally growing up and he swore an oath to me as his liege…stupid archaic wizarding traditions…and I got him injured. He’s crippled now because of me! What kind of leader am I?”

“You weren’t the leader on this trip, Harry.” Hermione said gently, “You have to admit Dumbledore assumed that role. If not Dumbledore, Sirius or Remus would be considered the leader. Even Bill, as curse-breaker, was senior to you.”

“Ok, you’re right, but was Ron there for them or for me?” Harry asked guiltily, “Bill was there for Dumbledore, but I think I could argue that everyone else that was there was there because of me. Particularly Ron…that fealty oath was two sided and Ron kept his half of the bargain. I didn’t protect him.”

“You couldn’t protect him, Harry.” Hermione insisted, “You did your best and we did get him out of there alive when it could have gone the other way.”

“Well, I owe him. Now that the healers have decided there’s no way to heal his arm, is there anything we can do?” Harry asked.

“You don’t ask for much, do you Harry?” Hermione teased, “The most qualified healers Saint Mungos can send and you think I can do better?”

“You’re not the smartest witch of your age for nothing, Hermione!” Harry said, “I’m not putting it all on you. I have some vague ideas myself. You already brought up phoenix tears and Averoes said it wasn’t possible, but has anyone ever had access to two phoenices? Maybe even four if we could transform and cry healing tears. My other thought is a silver arm like the hand Voldemort made for Wormtail.”

“While we could try to come up with something around phoenix tears, I think it would have to be a potion. Snape is truly one of the best potion masters, so I wouldn’t rule out that he could come up with something nobody has done before given the resources you mentioned, but it wouldn’t be soon.” Hermione mused, “However, the silver hand thing really has some promise. Maybe we should talk to Dumbledore? He would be the most likely to know whether it’s possible.”

“Ok!” Harry said enthusiastically, “Let’s go now; I really want to get this figured out. If we don’t fix Ron before Monday, everyone will know and I think that’s going to be one of the hardest parts for him to deal with. Well, I think going through the rest of his life with only one arm is the hardest part, but everyone knowing will seem like the end of the world for Ron…”

“Let’s go.” Hermione said.

The two rushed to the Headmaster’s office and let themselves in, asking the Gargoyle to alert the Headmaster they were coming.

When they arrived at the top of the stairs, the door opened automatically for them. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, his head cradled in his hands. He looked even older than usual, clearly affected by Ron’s injury.

“Professor Dumbledore, I had an idea!” Harry said as soon as he came through the door.

“What kind of idea, my boy?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

“An idea to help Ron.” Harry said, “You remember we told you about the confrontation in the graveyard? After Wormtail performed the ritual, Voldemort replaced his hand with a magical silver hand. Can we use that spell to replace Ron’s arm?”

Dumbledore shook his head even before Harry finished.

“Harry, I am sorry, but that spell is ancient magic. It is very obscure and only a few extremely learned wizards will have even heard of it. Of course, I am one of them, so ignorance is not the problem.” Dumbledore said, “The problem is that the spell has very specific requirements. It was developed in a different era. The loss of limbs was more common when magical swords were in more widespread use and in the Goblin rebellions. The spell was developed to let sorcerer-kings replace the limbs of their trusted soldiers. It’s only usable by liege lords on their liegemen and only on wounds incurred during their service to their lords. It is forever tied to this allegiance, attacking the liegeman if he ever betrays his lord. Because Wormtail was formally sworn to Voldemort, carried his Dark Mark, and the hand was clearly lost in service to Voldemort, only then was the spell even possible.”

Dumbledore was surprised when Harry’s enthusiasm didn’t completely deflate.

“Well, Ron is my liegeman.” Harry said.

“Not in a symbolic way, Harry, in a very literal oath-sworn way.” Dumbledore gently corrected.

“That’s what I mean, Professor!” Harry continued, “We had a falling out over the summer when we were training. You remember Ron left with you? Well, when he came back, we talked and he chose to swear an oath of fealty to me in the old Pureblood tradition. It was as formal as they get! As far as whether he lost the hand in my service…Hermione and I were talking. Clearly Bill was there because you asked him to be, but I’d bet Sirius, Remus, and Ron were there because I was there. I don’t know, it may be a subtle point and maybe the spell won’t see it that way, but I’d like to hope that it will.”

Dumbledore nodded, seeming more animated, like a weight as lifting off his shoulders.

“Any chance is better than none, my boy.” Dumbledore said, “While I am familiar with the existence of the spell, I have never studied it in-depth. Perhaps we can look through our library resources and piece it together.”

“What if you and I look at my memory of Voldemort casting it in the cemetery?” Harry asked, “The spell was silent. I don’t know whether you can apply auramancy to a memory, but maybe we could figure out what he did. Meanwhile, Hermione could get started on the library research. Maybe together we can recreate the spell.”

Dumbledore nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. Timmy!” One of Hogwarts’ House Elves popped into existence, bowed to Dumbledore, and awaited his task. “Timmy, please assist Miss Granger. Any book she needs from the library including the restricted section or from my personal library, please bring it to her. She can read them here. She is not to remove any of the restricted books or my personal books from my office. Is that clear, Miss Granger?”

“Of course, Headmaster.” Hermione said, almost salivating over this unprecedented access to these academic resources.

Dumbledore summoned his pensieve. He pulled out two labeled vials from an intricately carved wooden tower made specifically to hold hundreds of these vials.

“I have saved any memories of Tom Riddle and his later incarnation of Lord Voldemort.” Dumbledore said, “Both of your memories of his return are not the least of my collection.”

Harry entered the memory with Albus, who’d set it immediately before that specific spell. They watched it over and over, examining the wand movements in detail. Hermione’s memory was particularly sharp at recalling detail of spellcasting and very useful for that reason. They found that you could use limited auramancy in a memory as a skilled auramancer, as both youths were becoming at the time of the confrontation, acquired some hints of magic even when they were not specifically using the skill. Given how completely focused both were in the life-and-death situation, they had picked up details that were surprising when seen later. That same five minute period of both of their memories, ten minutes cumulative, were reviewed over and over. Several hours must have passed before they pulled themselves out of the pensieve.

Hermione was working feverishly, sheets of parchment with notes occupying the only space on Dumbledore’s desk that wasn’t occupied by books. Her bushy hair was coming out of a hastily tied back tail.

“I think I’ve found it.” Hermione said, “It’s the Manu Fides spell, popular in the 1200s and eventually vanishing with the advent of muggle gunpowder and Wizards moving away from swords.”

“Ah, yes.” Dumbledore said, “That goes along with what I remember. Have you found the incantation?”

“That is the incantation.” Hermione said, “It’s a quite simple spell, really. The incantation is very brief, the wand movement is not particularly complicated, however the requirements are very strict and it takes a very powerful wizard to use it.”

Dumbledore summoned Timmy to bring them lunch. They spent the time studying the written descriptions of the spell, which were limited. It would have been almost impossible to piece together had they not already known the spell existed. However, having seen it used and having the entire resources of the Hogwarts library with two of the best academic researchers alive in Albus and Hermione allowed them to achieve something few would have been able to – they recreated the spell from myth and legend to reality.

That afternoon, Dumbledore tutored Harry on the wand movement and they practiced without the incantation or intent until he could perform it flawlessly.

“Do you think it will work, Professor?” Harry asked nervously, “I want to do anything I can for Ron, but if I bring this up and it doesn’t work that’s almost crueler than if we didn’t try at all.”

“I doubt Mr. Weasley would say the same thing.” The Headmaster said with his most grandfatherly look, “We will be sure to let him know that this is undocumented territory and none of us know if it will work, but it is a promising line of inquiry. It surely will not hurt to try and if it helps, it will make a big difference in his life.”

Harry nodded, almost unable to speak with the complex mixture of feelings: hopefulness tempered by fear of failure. He was becoming a leader, but he hadn’t previously had to bear the weight of responsibility it entailed. Ron’s injury during the chess match, Hermione’s petrification, those had both occurred before he’d really been in charge and he’d felt terrible but he hadn’t felt the burden that he felt now.

“Should we go and talk to him?” Harry asked.

“More than that,” Dumbledore answered, his eyes twinkling, “I think we should go heal him.”

The three of them walked purposefully to the infirmary. They ran into Luna, coming from the library with her schoolbag.

“Coming to visit Ronald?” Luna asked, looking at them carefully, “You’ve solved the problem, haven’t you?”

Harry swallowed, unable to respond, wishing to say he had, but unsure if their plan would work.

“There are no guarantees, Miss Lovegood.” Dumbledore said, “However, we have a promising line of inquiry. Please let me explain it to Mr. Weasley before you say anything.”

Together the four of them walked into the infirmary. Dumbledore split off and discussed their plan with Poppy while the three friends found Ron sitting up in bed.

Ron broke into a smile on seeing his friends walking towards him.

“Harry! Hermione!” he greeted, “I hoped you’d be able to come visit with me. Luna was working with me all morning and I was knackered. I’ll probably do a bit more soon, but I’m glad to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Ron.” Hermione said, “I’m sorry you were hurt.”

Ron shrugged, trying to be strong, “I knew it was possible. My mum’s brothers died fighting Voldemort. At least I’m still alive. I’ll be doing almost everything I could before with a little practice.”

Harry fought not to say anything, knowing Dumbledore would say it better. Luckily, the headmaster walked up at that moment.

“Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore began in his grandfatherly tone, as Madame Pomfrey stood at his side, “your friends have not rested and they have come up with an idea. I must tell you it is only an idea and we are unsure whether it will be successful, but I think it worth investigation. Did Mr. Potter tell you about his experience in the graveyard?”

Ron nodded, his eyes wide.

“During that confrontation, Peter Pettigrew cut off his own hand as part of the ritual to return Lord Voldemort to a body. Voldemort replaced it with a magical silver hand. It functions as well as or better than the original. There is a possibility Mr. Potter could cast the same spell for you. Before I say more, I have to ask, are you interested?”

“What kind of bloody question is that?!” Ron asked, “I can learn to use a hook or I can get a silver arm that works better than the real thing… count me in!”

“There are some very important requirements for this spell to work.” Dumbledore continued, “It depends on things that have already happened. If they’re not met, the spell will fail. As these are preconditions, they cannot be changed now. First, the spell may only be cast by a Wizard on another who has sworn an oath of loyalty to him. Mr. Potter tells me you have done so?”

“Yeah,” Ron said with a hint of embarrassment, “it was how I got around my jealousy. I feel like it’s made a real difference.”

“I wondered what had changed in you.” Dumbledore said, “Whether it was because of the oath or because your willingness to swear such an oath was a sign of your maturation, I won’t speculate, but it may become very significant now. The second requirement is that you have to have lost the limb in service to Harry. He says he feels like you did. His feeling about it may be enough to influence the magic, but I have to ask, who do you feel like you were there for?”

Ron thought about that for a moment.

“I was there for Harry.” Ron said, “This fight has always been about Harry. It’s part of why I used to be so jealous, but there’s no real doubt of it.”

Dumbledore nodded. “With that said, I think this spell has a very real chance of success. Now all that is left is to try it.”

With a wave of Dumbledore’s wand, the other beds scooted away. Fawkes flamed into the room simultaneously with Hedwig, both feeling their presence was needed.

“I think if you’ll take positions around an imaginary circle…” Dumbledore began.

Luna shook her head, her eyes taking on a determination rarely seen in the expression of the dreamy eyed girl.

“Of course, you can remain there, Miss Lovegood.”

Hermione assumed a point on the circle as close to Harry as she dared. Madame Pomfrey stood at Ron’s feet, offset to the side to form a symmetry with Hermione and so she could see her patient. Professor Dumbledore stood at his head, completing a triangle with the two witches. Harry, Ron, and Luna were on the inside. Luna pulled Ron’s hospital gown off his shoulders, leaving him bare-chested. The wound near his right shoulder was red and angry, but much further healed than it ever would have been without magic.

The two phoenices started crooning. Their magic filled the air, seeming to increase not only the emotion, but the magical power available. The air felt electric, filled with life and power. Real potential for something amazing happening seemed almost tangible.

Harry immersed himself deep within, focusing as tightly as he ever did during a duel. Powerful ritual casting was more Hermione’s skill than his, but his best mate’s need called for Harry’s best effort. He’d always come through when a friend needed him and now that it was Ron, he wasn’t going to fail. Harry’s power started to crackle around him. The windows all flung themselves open and a cold early springtime wind poured into the room.

“Manu Fides!” Harry called in a loud voice, his tone deep, resonant. He moved his holly wand through the fairly simple movements of the spell confidently, crisply, his endless repetitions during his training over the last year giving him a precision he’d lacked before.

The green light of Harry’s magic, heavily laced through with glowing gold sparks, formed an outline of an arm, identical but the mirror image to Ron’s right arm. Almost as soon as it formed, the framework of magic began to fill with a silvery liquid, as if mercury poured in out of nowhere. The green and gold was reflected in the shining silver, disappearing as the metal seemed to harden. First, the upper arm formed, biceps and triceps hardening. The wound was hidden as the arm seemed to anchor itself in Ron’s living flesh. Elbow formed next, and then the forearm began to take shape. The complicated muscles of the forearm appeared, narrowing into the wrist, then widening out again. Before it was even fully formed, the hand was flexing, muscles in the forearm pulling the fingers into a fist and then extending them out again, mirroring the movements of the dominant right side. As soon as the mercurial flow reached the fingertips, the green and gold glow disappeared and the arm seemed solid. Bright, shining, reflecting the entire room in the curved surface, but otherwise completely normal, appearing the exact same as the other side except coated in a silver film.

“Whoa.” Ron said, continuing to test it by flexing and extending. He turned his hand over so he could look at the back, and then again to look at his palm, “It feels completely normal!”

He reached out to the metal tubular framework of the head of the bed to stand and his grip crushed the tube.

“Ah, sorry about that.” Ron said shocked, “I suppose I’d better be careful!”

They all laughed.

“Perhaps we’ll still have some physical therapy to complete after all.” Madame Pomfrey said with a rare smile.

Luna grabbed Ron and kissed him, jumping up and down excitedly, then grabbed Harry and kissed him, too. Harry turned red, while Ron barked, “Hey now, none of that!” but clearly wasn’t really upset, grinning at his best friend.

“Harry, I don’t know what to say…” Ron said, his voice cracking with emotion foreign to the teenaged boy, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Harry said, smiling so big he felt like his face would crack, “You wouldn’t believe how guilty I felt when you got hurt.”

They all took turns congratulating Ron on his good fortune and Harry on the successfully cast spell.

“How do you feel, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, looking carefully at Harry.

“Great, Professor!” Harry said, still smiling widely.

“Good job.” Dumbledore said, smiling, his own low mood now lifted higher than usual for the good natured Headmaster, “I have some good news to pass along to the Burrow. If you’ll excuse me.”

Ron continued to move his new arm through a range of motions. A thought seemed to cross his mind and a grin spread across his face.

“Hey, Harry,” Ron said, “the silver’s not bad, but I don’t suppose they come in orange, eh?”

Harry chuckled at Ron’s lame joke.

“I assume Madame Pomfrey is going to want to examine you.” Harry said, smirking and happy it wasn’t him this time, “Maybe if she releases you, we could meet in the usual place? I’ll gather up the twins, Ginny, Neville and we can celebrate a bit?”

“That sounds great, mate!” Ron said, looking at the Hogwarts nurse, “Um, I mean if that’s ok?”

Poppy Pomfrey attempted to scowl, but even she couldn’t look unhappy at this turnaround from tragedy.

“If you cooperate with my exam, I think we can discharge you, Mr. Weasley. Harry Potter may be my most frequent patient, but the Weasleys as a family have surpassed even him. I don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary.”

Harry and Hermione walked quickly to the Gryffindor common room. They could apparate or have Hedwig take them, but they were trying to hide their abilities and advantages as much as possible so they could surprise Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Using them indiscriminately would not help that goal. Once in the common room, they quickly spotted Neville and Ginny together.

“Ginny!” Hermione squealed, running towards her friend. Ginny looked up surprised. Hermione squealing was so rare as to be shocking. “We found a solution!”

Hermione quickly cast a silent muffliato and told Ginny the good news. Meanwhile, Harry had the Marauder’s map out and was locating the twins using some of the new features he’d discovered. He spotted them in their dorm room, so he hurried up the stairs and found them.

“Fred, George, good news!” he said excitedly, “Hermione and Dumbledore found an answer to Ron’s injury. We were able to create a new arm for him.”

“A new arm?” George said.

“Good one, Harry!” Fred laughed, hitting him on the back.

“It would take you and Hermione to come up with something St Mungos hadn’t heard of!” George said.

The twins did a little jig and Harry had to laugh.

“We’re going to the Room of Requirement to have a little celebration. I’m sure Ron’s going to be exhausted, so we’re keeping it low key, but this is too great not to…” Harry said.

“Right, Harry, we agree.” Fred said.

“We can bring some food and drinks.” George offered.

“Wait, has anyone told mum?” Fred asked.

“Yes, Dumbledore’s informing your parents now.” Harry said, “Hermione told Ginny in the common room a minute ago. She’ll be there.”

The twins nodded and hurried off to the kitchen. Harry didn’t have the heart to tell them Dobby or Winky could get them all the food they needed in seconds.

Harry wrote a quick note to Dumbledore to tell him where they were, so if the Weasleys came via floo, he could bring them to the Room of Requirement, too. He sent it with Hedwig.

“Hey, girl, you can stay and talk to Fawkes if you want. Come back to me when you’re done, ok?”

Pretty soon Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and the twins were in the Room of Requirement, which had assumed the shape of the Gryffindor common room complete with decorations. A table groaning with food sat off to the side, along with buckets of ice filled with bottles of Butterbeer and pitchers of pumpkin juice.

Ron and Luna came through the doors and everyone cheered. Ron held Luna’s hand in his right and held up his silver arm in the universal sign of victory. The cheering only grew louder and Ron basked in his friends’ and family’s happiness for him.

Harry had been thinking. Ron’s injury really hammered home to him the seriousness of their efforts. He remembered how mad he’d been when Dumbledore had kept him in the dark, but he’d been doing the same thing to his friends, despite the fact that they’d been helping him. All the training at Black Isle had to be worth something. He let everyone celebrate for a while, but eventually he raised his hand. Everyone looked to him expectantly, silence quickly falling.

“You all know Ron was injured. I want to tell you a little bit about how.” Harry started, “There are a lot of secrets involved, though, so before we start, I want to be sure you can all keep these secrets, even if others try to take them. I’m going to ask you one at a time to come over here with Hermione and me. We’re going to do a quick occlumency check to be sure your shields are strong enough.”

Harry was a bit worried about the twins. They hadn’t been to Black Isle, so hadn’t had the chance to learn the basics with the rest. He and Hermione performed a legilimency probe on all their friends after telling them what it involved and gaining their permission. They were clear that their probe probably wasn’t strong enough to really simulate a full out attack by Voldemort, but a joint attack would probably be enough to test their ability to resist anything short of that.

They were pleased when all their friends passed, even the twins.

“How did you two learn occlumency?” Harry asked.

“Well, we had learned about its existence pretty early on.” George said.

“But finding out how to do it is bloody impossible.” Fred continued.

“So we made do by avoiding eye contact with Snape or Dumbledore, since we suspected they sometimes use legilimency and we didn’t want our secrets out.” George said.

“When Ginny came back from Black Isle, we heard her pushing Ron to practice one night.” Fred said.

“We begged her to teach us. She agreed and we learned everything we could. We’ve worked really hard at it, since it seems like an essential skill for our line of work.” George said.

“Keeps our secrets from the teachers and protect our business secrets from competitors.” Fred finished.

“So we did ok?” George asked.

“You both did really well.” Hermione said, “You’re ready to keep a secret from anyone we know. Voldemort might be able to break your shields. We just don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Harry stood, gesturing his friends to sit.

“So you all know I don’t think I’m anything special.” Harry started, “I never understood why anyone else seemed to. The thing with Voldemort happened when I was still in nappies. Hardly something you can brag about! Then I came here. Hermione’s always been a better student. Ron’s better at chess. I’m pretty good at Quidditch and Defense, although if you ask Umbridge, she’d disagree with that last.”

There was laughter there.

“You mean Umbitch?” one of the twins shouted.

“She wouldn’t know Defense from a Doily!” the other laughed.

“Right, well, Dumbledore finally told me one reason Voldemort thought I was worth his obsession. You’ve all heard whispers about this prophecy the Order of the Phoenix is guarding in the Department of Mysteries?”

There were assorted head nods, although Neville seemed a little less sure than the others.

“Dumbledore told me what it says. He heard it from Trelawney, who initially made it.”

Harry went on to tell them the Prophecy. There was total silence.

“There were two babies that fit,” Harry continued, “Me and Neville. Nev, I’m sorry, but that’s probably why your parents were attacked. It could have been either of us. I think if it could have been either of us then, there’s probably not much difference between us now. So Nev, I think you’re over it at this point, but if you ever think of yourself as a near squib again, remember you were prophesized to be one of two that could defeat the Dark Lord. I may have been marked more obviously…” he said pointing at his scar, “but Riddle was an orphan and he pretty much made both of us the same.”

Neville nodded his head, face taking on a steely determination that was becoming more and more one of his trademark looks.

“Riddle protected himself from death with dark objects called horcruxes. This is the most important secret we have. If he learned we even knew about them, let alone how far we’ve come in destroying them he could do two things. One, he could protect the single one we haven’t had a chance to destroy. With it intact, he’s invulnerable. Two, he could become desperate. A desperate Voldemort might try even harder to kill me, the ones I love, or even just random victims. We don’t want that.”

Harry continued, “He had seven: Hufflepuff’s Cup, Slytherin’s Locket, Ravenclaw’s Diadem, Tom Riddle’s Diary…” Ginny squeaked at that and Harry nodded to her, acknowledging the horror of what she’d been through. “Yes, Ginny, you were possessed by a fragment of his soul. If you had been weaker, if he’d been able to gain control before Hermione figured out what was happening and I got down there, then he would have come back two years earlier. Your resistance was one of the unknown battles of the war.”

“Gaunt’s Ring is the final one we’ve destroyed. There are two remaining. We believe one is Nagini, his snake. If he knew we knew that, he would protect her so well we might never be able to kill her. If you see her, kill her on sight. The last is as great a secret as the existence of the horcruxes at all, because it’s me. I have a fragment of Tom Riddle’s fractured soul in my scar. We’re trying to research how to destroy it, but we’re not sure we can do it without killing me. If that’s the only way, I don’t mind dying to kill him, but now, with the bond, it would kill Hermione too and I won’t do that unless there’s no other choice. I believe she’ll find a way to remove it without needing to go there.”

There was utter silence at the magnitude of revelations.

“Why did I tell you now?” Harry continued, asking the obvious question, “Ron lost his arm on the expedition that recovered the Ring. His heroism directly contributed to the eventual destruction of Voldemort. I thought you should all know that. We’ve destroyed all but the final two and we’re working to destroy those. That’s also worth celebrating. You’re my friends, you’ll be by me throughout, and I wanted you to know.”

The party had taken on a more serious tone, but Harry’s words soaked in and they realized there was even more reason to celebrate. The opposition to Voldemort was making progress and he wasn’t as invulnerable as he liked to project. There was talk among the group as they absorbed the information, but they had returned to celebration by the time Arthur, Molly, and Bill Weasley arrived. Ron was asleep before the party ended and his friends helped return him to the Gryffindor dorm.

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29 Feb

Sunday was a day of recovery. Ron had a lie in, even missing breakfast, a first for him. Harry and Hermione also slept late and then spent the afternoon working with their animagus transformation, at which they were becoming better, and trying to perform phoenix apparition, in which they made little progress.

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1 March

Harry went through classes, realizing with a pang that DADA had been his favorite class before, but now he dreaded it. Professor Umbridge still hadn’t returned to open hostilities with him, but she took out her hatred on his written work in her class. At this rate, he wouldn’t qualify for NEWT level DADA, ending his dreams of becoming an auror. He knew from Hermione’s occasional huff and the feel of rage through her bond that she wasn’t doing much better, although how anyone could grade her poorly was a mystery. Harry was her regular editor and only his extreme interest and hard work in the subject gave him the background to follow her work, as it was more advanced than the textbook, often integrating multiple NEWT level references and synthesizing new information rather than just regurgitating the text as most of their classmates struggled to do. Umbridge’s hostility was unjustified and he was getting damn sick of it!

Professor Dumbledore again used his special class time to provide additional dueling opportunities, meeting Harry in the regular room. Hermione was with Professor McGonagall, working on her own projects.

“I have been thinking about what we need to work on.” Filius said at first, “We have mostly been doing static duels, but one of your talents is your speed and mobility. You have even managed to bypass anti-apparition wards, making the chances of your mobility being reduced that much less.”

“Given your new animagus form, you may even be able to learn phoenix apparition as another way to circumvent anti-apparition wards.” Headmaster Dumbledore continued, “I will task you with learning to do so on your own, but would suggest you start with learning to do it while transformed first, when it may well be more natural, then trying while in your native form. The animagi I know say that is how they learned to use their animal abilities while in human form, learning them first in animal form and only later learning to use them in human form.”

“I have charmed the room to create a spot of white on a dark floor.” Flitwick said, “Your job is to move to the spot. Continue to do so as long as you can. Begin when you’re ready.”

Harry did, apparating around the room, striving to land exactly on the spot. He initially was able to keep it up for close to five minutes and almost 70 jumps before having to stop, sweating and nauseated.

“Good!” Filius said, “Catch your breath and let the nausea settle. Then we’ll go again. This time I’m going to try to hex you. You must dodge or shield while hopping to your next target.”

Harry went again, successfully dodging and blocking everything Filius sent at him. He was tired, so only managed four minutes, but he was getting faster, so he still managed close to 70 hops in that time.

“Good job, my boy!” Dumbledore said when he was done, “Now to make it more interesting, I am going to add another dimension to the problem.”

The Headmaster, the greatest current master of transfiguration in the world, quickly changed the room. Now small balconies dotted the walls at random heights. Some were mere feet off the ground while others were only a man’s height from the high ceiling. The white dots now appeared to be glowing balls, visible even from a lower level.

“Go!” Flitwick called, surprising Harry. He shot a stunning spell an instant after his call, which missed Harry, flashing through the space he’d been a moment before. Harry jumped through the room, popping from glowing dot to glowing dot.

Harry managed to get back to five minutes and close to 100 jumps before having to sink to the ground exhausted.

“Very well done.” Flitwick said, “I’m going to allow you a longer break this time. Have a drink. There’s chilled pumpkin juice in the pitcher there. Next, I want you to send an attack back at me. Stunning spells or stinging hexes are acceptable. At each stop, you are not allowed to apparate until you’ve thrown one of those hexes at me.”

Harry had a drink, mopped his brow, and then continued with the increasingly difficult exercises. Between Flitwick and Dumbledore, they sent innumerable spells at him, giving him ample practice in dodging and shielding. He made uncountable apparitions. By the end of the session, he felt a constant mild nausea and he felt like his head was spinning.

“That sensation should go away by tomorrow.” Flitwick said knowingly, “We will see you tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Potter.”

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2 March

Charms and transfiguration were the opposite of DADA. Harry found himself enjoying the experience of being teacher’s pet, although if he’d assumed Hermione’s former place, she’d departed it for an even more exalted one, having become more of a colleague to the professors than a mere student. She still focused intently on their lessons, but when the practical portion arrived, she quickly demonstrated her mastery of the spell in question, often discretely showing the professor she could perform it silently or even wandlessly as well. Then she would help her classmates or discuss advanced theory with the professor, depending on how much her peers seemed to need help. Her advanced theory questions often had to do with her work with McGonagall or were obscure points she thought might come up on OWL exams, although both Flitwick and McGonagall had assured her that these issues were well beyond OWL and sometimes past NEWT level.

Tuesday evening was Harry’s normal day to work with Filius. He walked to the dueling room with Hermione, wondering what was planned.

“Welcome back, Mr. Potter.” Professor Flitwick said, “Miss Granger, welcome. I’d like to continue your work from yesterday, Mr. Potter. You two could both practice taking turns apparating while the other covers. Albus and I will both send hexes your way. Follow the glowing balls. Do you understand? Ok, begin.”

Hermione started at the same level Harry had ended yesterday. One of the biggest advantages to their bond was the ability to ‘share’ knowledge and skills. They spent an hour practicing mobility, bouncing around the room as fast as possible while defending by dodging, blocking, and counter-cursing. The two worked together like two halves of a single whole, which was essentially what they were. Their coordination was perfect, since they communicated at the speed of thought. They worked to near-exhaustion in 10-15 minute blocks, both of them soaked in sweat, before taking a break and then beginning again.

“Take a longer break.” Flitwick said, “Then you will duel the Headmaster again.”

Harry struggled to catch his breath, tired from the drills they’d done for the past hour and intimidated at what was coming. Albus Dumbledore was a legend to every Wizard, but for Harry he was more than that. An amateur could appreciate an athlete, but only a true athlete could really appreciate the nuances of a peak competitor. Harry had become one of the most talented young duelists in the Wizarding world and while his teachers had allowed him no idea of exactly where he ranked, he knew how much he’d progressed relative to where he’d been. While he didn’t know that he’d reached a peak that only a select few, born with unmatched talent and then trained exhaustively by the best in the field would ever reach, he did know he’d gained a much greater understanding of the differences between other opponents. He knew that Dumbledore was incomparable. Even Mad-Eye, Filius, or Alex didn’t compare and they were the best he’d seen before.

Dumbledore simply appeared in his position. He wore dove grey dueling robes, his long white beard was gathered by a golden ring, his flowing white hair was pulled back into a tail, and his eyes rather than sparkling were so focused it seemed he might have a basilisk type gaze. Harry felt himself becoming weak with nervousness, but he pushed that part of himself down and let the Machine take over, because the Machine felt nothing but drive to win. His emotions weren’t gone, but they were pushed down inside, where he could contemplate the stupidity of dueling the wizard who’d defeated Grindelwald without it getting in the way.

Harry had no idea what he looked like when he dueled, but Albus watched him with a studied eye. He could see the boy becoming nervous and tried to project an even greater sense of presence, trying to win the fight before it began. It seemed to work as the boy’s leg was twitching and sweat was beading on his forehead. Suddenly, though, it was like a different person was standing there. Harry’s eyes stopped darting around nervously. They still were obviously taking everything in, bouncing systematically from Albus’ center of mass to wand hand, from center of mass to feet, looking at everything and taking everything in. Harry seemed to sink down, his knees bending and thigh muscles holding him in the perfect position to spring forward or shuffle back. His face went flat and unreadable. Albus would never tell him, but he had some of the look of Snape, that same look of an emotionless killer. When Harry looked like that, Albus knew there was no point in trying a legilimens attack, his mind was too sheltered for that.

They both saluted and waited for the signal. Flitwick conjured a light silk scarf that drifted down on the vagaries of the air currents in the room. Both duelists stood, poised, waiting for it to hit the ground, one of the traditional signals for a duel to begin.

“Boom!” their first curses met in the middle of the room and exploded, shockwave pressing against the chest like a hand, “Boom, boom boom!”

The force of the powerful curses meeting was unreal, like the shockwave Hermione imagined if Gryffindor tower were to fall over. She felt the powerful wards on the room shudder as they absorbed ridiculous forces.

Albus squinted, trying to see through the ripples in the air, the ripples in reality, as his spells met Harry’s launched at precisely the same instant. He turned instinctively; throwing up a powerful protective shield just in time to block several of Harry’s signature combination spells. The piercing curse had been honed to perfection, incredible forces concentrated into a theoretical minimum area, essentially a geometric point. This struck Albus’ shield, trying to create an opening for a tightly compressed blasting curse riding the first spell’s coattails. Harry had apparated silently while Albus couldn’t see him and if the Headmaster didn’t have a century of combat awareness, he would have surprised him. If he hadn’t had the unique wand, even his shield wouldn’t have blocked those deadly spells.

Dumbledore flicked his hand, causing Harry to fly backwards, propelled by a powerful banishing charm. A flick of the Elder Wand and a spray of stunning spells followed, ready to hit Harry at his weakest, as he bounced off the stone wall.

Harry never hit the stone wall, disappearing in mid-air and reappearing on a ledge silently. It took precise control to apparate while moving, because the kinetic energy of movement had to be perfectly cancelled or Harry would have flown off the ledge if the kinetic energy remained or burst into flames if the energy was converted to heat. The conversion was instinctive, as was the spray of spellfire launched before he disappeared again. Harry appeared on another ledge, launched a handful of SPEARs and disapparated only to appear on another ledge. It was almost as if he’d chained the offensive spells with apparition.

Dumbledore saw almost twenty offensive spells coming from every direction and he knew even a shield cast by the Elder Wand wouldn’t absorb all of them. He disapparated an instant before they landed, which was an instant before the shield fell with a crash. Albus had to smile. Harry was coming along. The Headmaster actually felt threatened.

Dumbledore threw two quick spells. The first was silent and subtle. To mask it, the second was anything but subtle, a flame whip, slashing out in a circle, hoping to catch Harry no matter wherever he apparated to.

Harry popped into existence over one of the ledges, sending a chain of curses at Dumbledore where he’d appeared after he’d had to flee. He’d had to flee! The emotional side deep within the bottomless well of occlumency rejoiced that he’d actually made the Headmaster run from his attack. The Machine coldly remained focused on the fight. Luckily, since instead of landing on the ledge, he fell through it. Dumbledore had transfigured the ledges to have no floor. Harry had still gotten his attack off, but was now falling.

Dumbledore shielded against the curses coming at him and his shield held against five, although he sensed that was about all it could absorb. He flicked the flame whip at Harry, but it was difficult to hit the still somewhat smaller than average boy while he was in free-fall. He expected Harry to apparate away from the fall, as he’d proven quite talented at instinctively zeroing kinetic energy and apparating during significant movement, something many wizards couldn’t do.

Harry quickly realized what Dumbledore would expect and decided to try something instead. He cast an overpowered banishing charm on the floor right before he hit. Even Harry Potter couldn’t hope to move a castle and so the spell rebounded at Harry, launching all fifty-something kilos of boy-who-lived. He rode the wave of force bouncing off the floor into a parabolic arc across the room, flying without a broom.

Dumbledore was momentarily taken aback. He wasn’t sure if the boy’s curse had gone tragically wrong or if this was some insane tactic, but Harry came flying across the room as if launched from a cannon. Albus quickly decided it was purposeful when he saw curses spitting out of the boy’s wand throughout the entire parabola. He barely had time to overcome his shock and disapparate before the floor under where he’d been was chewed into gravel.

Appearing on a ledge across the room, Albus transfigured the wall where Harry would hit into Devil’s Snare.

Harry combined a powerful fire spell with another overpowered banishing charm and rocketed off in a new direction, seemingly spit out of a blossoming fireball that consumed the Devil’s Snare.

Nobody had ever taken mobility to this extreme, Dumbledore thought numbly, while deciding how to stop the boy.

He quickly cast a bubble around himself and transfigured all the air in the room to water. Harry’s flight hit a snag as he suddenly plunged into water without warning. He didn’t even have time to take a full breath of air and drowning was suddenly a very real possibility. Harry wasn’t sure whether you could apparate out of water, but you certainly could portkey out of it, as he’d learned for the second task of the tournament. He didn’t want to try too many things, so he apparated to the only spot of air in the entire room, right next to Dumbledore.

Soaking wet and breathless, Harry was uncertain what to do. He’d done much better this duel, but only because he was constantly moving and clearly the Headmaster had more tricks up his sleeve. Harry had no idea how to beat the older, more knowledgeable, more powerful wizard. However, as he’d learned before the first task and proven today, it always paid to play to your strengths, or at least your opponent’s weaknesses. He was a fifteen year-old boy fighting a centenarian.

He grabbed Dumbledore’s wand and did a leg sweep that Ashdown had taught him on Black Isle. The emotional part was screaming ‘No!’, there was no way kicking the Headmaster in the leg was right. However, the Machine didn’t care. He’d take the only advantage he had and wouldn’t shed a tear.

Dumbledore went down hard despite a less than perfect leg sweep. He grunted as he hit the paving stones of the floor.

“Stupefy!” Harry shouted, sending a red beam at the Headmaster before his limbs had even settled from the hard tumble he’d taken.

Harry was panting, on his back on the floor next to the stunned Dumbledore, both in a bubble of air within a roomful of water. Surreal didn’t even begin to describe it. He wasn’t sure he could transfigure that much water back into air, so he decided to try a finite first. Luckily, it worked. Harry rolled to his feet and backed away from the Headmaster, unsure what Professor Flitwick would do.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted, “You won!”

Harry shook his head, “I cheated. I was barely surviving and I kicked an old man in the leg because I didn’t know what else to do. Not really a big mark in the win column as far as I’m concerned.”

“If you have to kick Voldemort in the leg, you do it!” Hermione said, both hands on her hips, “What would Moody say? There is no cheating in a fight!”

“Yeah, maybe.” Harry said guiltily, “I just feel like crap having kicked Professor Dumbledore. Professor Flitwick, is he ok?”

“He’ll be fine.” Flitwick said reassuringly, “Dueling wards are made to attenuate physical attacks, too. He’ll have a bruise or two, but he’ll be fine. He would have told you not to hold back.”

The part goblin innervated the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Dumbledore groaned before sitting up.

“Well, that was creative.” He managed to say, “I think you managed to create several new techniques during that fight. Now, where’s my wand?”

“I’ve got it, sir.” Harry said, holding it out.

“You’ve got my wand?” Dumbledore said, stunned.

“I grabbed it when I ended up next to you.” Harry explained, wondering why Dumbledore seemed so surprised, “I thought it would give me a spot of breathing room.” He chuckled, suddenly thinking about how he’d been in the only bubble of air in the entire room, “A spot of breathing room, ha, I wish I’d said that on purpose.”

Dumbledore just sat on the floor, silent.

“Albus, are you all right?” Flitwick asked, concerned, “Do I need to get Poppy?”

“No, I will be fine.” Dumbledore said, “I was just surprised. Some of my plans may be moving up, based on Harry’s performance.”

“Here, Professor.” Harry said, again trying to hold Dumbledore’s wand out to him.

“No, hold on to that.” Dumbledore said, his eyes starting to gleam, “It’s a bit of tradition with that wand. Someone I learned a lot from passed it to me when I beat him in a duel and now I pass it to you. I have another wand I will use.”

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A/N: Something strange happened with my chapter statistics. Last time I got on a roll and posted 2 chapters at once. I don’t know if readers didn’t notice or didn’t like the first one, but Chapter 26 had maybe a third as many hits as Chapter 27. If you didn’t read both chapters, please do. It will make more sense that way!

Another mistake with dating. The last section in the last chapter said 26 Feb. It should have said 27 Feb.

Another mistake, realized I was misspelling Pomfrey as Pomphrey. Oops.

I was surprised to realize 1996, the Spring of Order of the Phoenix, was a leap year, thus featured 29 days in February.

The passing of the Elder Wand was part of Dumbledore’s plan from the start. I had originally planned it for a little later in the school year, but that duel took on a life of its own and Harry took it away from him before I had a chance to intervene. Albus is taking a bit of a risk, weakening himself in order to build up Harry. Every time a master passes off the baton to his student, there’s a risk. Is he doing it too soon? Maybe, but if you believe the prophecy that Harry’s the one to defeat Voldemort, you want to give him all the advantages possible and the Elder Wand is definitely an advantage!

29. Phoenix in Retreat

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter.

Additional Author’s Note: Please go back and read Chapter 26. Since I posted two at once, many people missed reading that one (445 vs 1450 for the one before and 1400 for the one after).

Chapter 29: Phoenix in Retreat

3 March

Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast with Hermione. Being prefects, she wanted them to avoid too many displays of public affection, but she considered holding hands appropriate and they almost never went anywhere without being hand in hand. Since the Quibbler article had come out, Harry had noticed a change in the overall attitude towards him. The DA members already clearly looked up to him, which was embarrassing, but gave him a warm feeling that he was doing well at his first attempt as a teacher. Noticing how the general student population now seemed to look up to him was a huge surprise, though.

Hermione might have been biased in the other direction, but she wasn’t surprised at all. Harry was the boy-who-lived. He was the youngest seeker in a century and one of the most successful. He was the Tri-Wizard Champion. He hadn’t noticed, but he’d started subconsciously doing the billowing robes trick he’d long admired (sometimes the only thing he admired) on Snape. For a fifteen year old he really struck a very imposing presence. She thought Dumbledore must have had a similar presence, maybe even Tom Riddle before he became openly dark.

They both greeted their friends in all the houses. Susan Bones in Hufflepuff gave them a little wave and they returned her greeting. Cho and Cedric said hi. Even Slytherin House was becoming much less hostile. Draco had stopped annoying Harry for some reason, maybe due to his dramatic loss in the duel, but it made a nice change of pace.

Harry slid into the Gryffindor table next to Ron while Hermione sat on his other side.

“Hey, mate!” Ron said. He was eating easily with both hands. Hermione had taught him a simple glamour charm to hide the silver gleam of his left hand and make it look just like his right. It was difficult to see through unless you were using auramancy, in which case the arm glowed magically.

“Hey.” Harry nodded, “Looking forward to DA today?”

“Of course!” Ron said, “Going to do anything cool?”

“Yeah, Hermione’s got a new spell for us.” Harry said, smiling at the bushy haired girl. She smiled back, pleased that her hard work was noticed by her fiancée.

“Great!” Ron said, “Merlin knows we’re not learning anything in DADA.”

They all looked up at the head table, where Delores was glowering back at them. The day she left Hogwarts there would be a celebration.

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3 March evening

Harry met in the Room of Requirement with his assistants. He’d thought about finding time to discuss the mental side of dueling and he’d decided tonight was the best night for that. He also wanted Hermione to teach them her new spell so they could help the other members learn it later that evening.

“Ok, there’s two things I want to cover tonight.” Harry said, “The first is what I call the mental part of dueling or the ‘mind-game’. Early on in Quidditch, I noticed there were times I felt really ‘on’ and times I felt a little more distracted. It seemed random to me and I couldn’t figure out how to turn that switch on. Have you all ever felt that way?”

Ron was nodding. “Are you kidding? My first game I felt like I was going to puke, especially when the Slytherins were singing that stupid song. I think if I’d screwed up, I would have been a wreck and wouldn’t have been able to concentrate for shite. Oops, sorry Hermione.”

The others agreed. Neville spoke up, “We’ve talked before about my confidence problem. It’s getting a lot better, but I’ve felt like Ron a lot.”

“All of us feel that way from time to time.” Harry said, “Professional athletes and duelists have written books about the subject, but it’s very difficult. My proper mindset may be very different from yours. The key is to understanding that we both have one. Pay attention to how you feel when you’re ‘on’. What led to you feeling that way? Was there a ritual you went through? Once you’ve felt it, it’s a lot easier to get back there.”

“You’re all skilled occlumens. I found the organization of occlumency was very helpful in consistently being able to enter that proper mindset. Look back through your memories. Find a memory of a time when you felt really ‘on’. Examine that memory as closely as you can and memorize what that mindset felt like. Then practice assuming that mindset at will. With a lot of practice you’ll be quicker and quicker about it. Maybe at first you’ll need a little ritual to get into that mindset. For me during Quidditch it was the routine of the locker room, taking the field, and flying around waiting for the Snitch to be released. For dueling it was the bows and salutes. Eventually, though, you have to learn to do it without ritual, because the Death Eaters won’t give you time. With practice, pretty soon you’ll be able to drop into it without any. Let’s work on that for a half hour, then Hermione’s going to teach us her spell.”

Harry and Hermione walked around and with permission used some gentle legilimency to explore those memories with their friends, giving tips about the right mindset and some ways they’d found helpful. It was a very individual thing, though, so they could only help so much. After thirty minutes, Harry called for their attention.

“Ok, I think each of you have at least a start.” Harry said, “Just like we practice occlumency every night, practice this at the beginning of every duel or every Quidditch match.” Glancing at Hermione, he added with a grin, “Some people even say it works on exams, so you might try that, too. With time you’ll find it coming naturally. The other thing to remember is that your opponent may try to take you out of the right mindset. There are many ways to do that, including distraction, intimidation, causing you to underestimate them… you don’t want to let them pull you out of your mindset and someday you may want to work on trying to disrupt their mindset.”

Hermione stepped up. “We’ve been talking on and off about whether to use stunners or more lethal spells. I think Ginny brought it up at an earlier DA prep session. The problem is the stunning spell is just too easily countered by allies of your opponent. As long as some Death Eaters are awake, they’ll innervate their comrades. Meanwhile, if they’re using Killing Curses, we won’t have the option of just waking up our fallen. It’s a huge disadvantage. However, not killing is one of the things that separate us from them. So how do we reconcile this problem? I did some research…”

Ron chuckled a little and almost got Harry started. Even Neville looked like he was having a tough time not smiling.

“I know it’s hardly surprising.” Hermione huffed, “What I’ve been able to do though is really special. I modified the stunning spell to add a password. Without the password or passphrase, you can’t innervate the target. It only adds a small wand movement and doesn’t require significantly more power. I think we’ll all be able to cast it easily.”

“Now,” Hermione continued, “the password should be standardized among the DA. I thought of a lot of options. Initially I just thought of things Death Eaters would be unlikely to say, like ‘Voldemort sucks’, but I realized we had even better options. To innervate someone, you have to be holding a wand. Any oath you make while holding your wand is magically binding. So the password I’m proposing is, ‘On my life and magic I swear never to aid Voldemort’. It’s something none of us will have a problem with, but Death Eaters should be very reluctant to say even if they learn about it. It’s possible to innervate without the password, but it takes a lot of energy and so much time that it’s not effective in combat, which is really the goal.”

They all thought that was brilliant. Harry had been stunned. He’d initially thought about ‘phoenix’ or ‘Dumbledore’s Army’, but Hermione’s idea was so much better.

She taught them all the modified spell and they practiced on each other until the rest of the DA showed up. Then she made the same speech in front of all of them.

Then Harry stood up, “I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I believe there’s a delicate balance between tying our hands trying to be too delicate with the Death Eaters and allowing them to drive us to their level. Hermione has encouraged me to read and it has really helped me understand this problem. A Muggle philosopher named Friedrich Nietzshe said, ‘Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.’ This really seems to fit our situation. Voldemort killed my family after they were betrayed by one of his servants whom they thought was one of their best friends. Others among you have lost family. We have reason to hate, but we must try to take the high road. So I ask that you consider this stunning spell your first line attack against Death Eaters. Now once they start throwing Killing Curses, which they will, if you decide to throw blasting hexes, bone breakers, cutting and piercing curses back, I’ll understand. I’ll probably be right there with you, but please let’s try not to. I think when we come through this, we’ll be happier and mentally healthier the more we’ve tried to avoid killing.”

They broke up into pairs and started casting the spell. The Black Isle crew circulated and helped those who were having trouble, although given how much they’d practiced the basic stunning spell, most of them weren’t having any problems. The most prevalent problem was switching back to the basic spell without thinking, given how much they’d practiced it. Once they all had the new spell down, Harry gave them a five minute break, then they practiced with one half of each pair dodging while the other half attacked with the modified stunning spell. Then they switched.

Harry was circulating around the group. The DA was really coming together. He was still surprised when some of the members seemed to use it as a way to flirt with him, like Lavender Brown. She seemed to wear briefer and briefer knickers until eventually, like Luna, she wasn’t wearing any at all. Somehow she always managed to get stunned when he was walking by. Even his Quidditch team mates sometimes tried to tease him the same way, but he actually thought they were funny, since they’d at least try to target their jokes and they had spent way too much time in locker rooms together to be uncomfortable around one another. Besides, who knew they made knickers with flying snitches all over them?

They briefly practiced their Patronuses and then did a handful of duels before breaking up. Harry carefully examined the Marauder’s Map before sending the members back to their common rooms. So far they were still escaping Umbridge’s detection.

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4 March

Harry was strangely really coming to enjoy Potions class, completing the inversion of the year where he came to hate DADA and enjoy Potions. However, with more understanding of Snape, even though the grim man hadn’t really apparently changed that much, and the benefit of working with Hermione very closely, it was a much different experience. They fully researched each potion beforehand and looked in other references how best to brew the potion of the day. Harry had come to realize the assigned text for the course really wasn’t that good, but with a little outside reading, the weaknesses were easily overcome.

Professor Snape came up behind Harry and Hermione and watched as they made the invigoration draught. He watched as they carefully ground some leaves in a mortar and pestle.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape said silkily, “I believe the text says to cut the Alihotsy leaves into fine pieces, does it not?”

“It does, Professor.” Harry said while continuing to grind.

“Then why are you grinding them?”

“Because grinding actually creates more surface area, allowing the leaves to release their essential oils more readily.” Harry said, “I read it in ‘More Perfecte Potions’, sir.”

Professor Snape sniffed and continued on without saying anything more. Once he’d finished the steps, Harry looked at his potion and it looked exactly as had been described in the book. He carefully placed a sample in the vial and went to Snape’s desk to turn it in. He placed it in the rack for that purpose, while Professor Snape ignored him.

He and Hermione left.

“What do you think that was about?” Harry asked her.

She smiled at him, “Couldn’t you tell? Remember, Professor Snape will always say so if you’re doing something wrong. If he doesn’t say anything, it must mean you’re doing it right. Our potions looked better than anyone else’s.”

Harry shrugged, “I still don’t get that guy. We see him probably more than any other student, but he still acts like he hates us.”

“That’s just how he is.” Hermione said, “It’s not like he can be nice to you. How would that sound when it got back to Voldemort?”

“I know.” Harry grumbled.

Hermione elbowed him and grinned, “It almost sounds like you care what Professor Snape thinks of you, Mr. Potter.”

Harry thought for a few minutes. He supposed he was coming to care. Bugger.

Later, that evening, they walked down to Snape’s office as usual for their occlumency lessons. They let themselves inside and sat. Snape strode in a few minutes later, his robes billowing behind him impressively. His black eyes seemed to flash fire as he glanced at them, almost looking for something to criticize.

“You continue to show up, how unexpected.” He finally said.

Harry just cocked his head slightly, meeting Professor Snape’s eyes as if to challenge him to attack him mentally. Which was exactly what Snape did, non-verbally casting legilimens. Harry shrugged off the attack. Snape did the same to Hermione, with the same result.

“Very well, now me.” Snape said.

The two attacked Snape in tandem, finding he’d obviously been practicing. They had also been practicing legilimency, though, and it was a tough fight. Eventually, Snape managed to throw them out.

“You have both obviously been working, just as I instructed.” Snape said, “Your results are…acceptable. We will not waste more time on this tonight. Your OWL exams are approaching. For whatever reasons, you remain a celebrity, Mr. Potter. Miss Granger, now that you are engaged, you too are in the public eye. If you fail your exams, it will make me look bad as an instructor. So until the exams, I will quiz you and then we will make one of the likely potions I expect will be on your OWL. You seem to be doing research before class. I approve of this. I will give you more of such instruction to improve your potion making. In addition to protecting my reputation, Madame Umbridge would love nothing more than for you both to fail. I dislike the woman and no matter how I feel about you two, would enjoy seeing her disappointed.”

Snape then proceeded to ask questions in a rapid fire manner. He was very exacting and extremely critical of partial or vague answers. He even challenged Hermione, despite her encyclopedic knowledge. Afterwards, they brewed a potion and he offered even more refinements to the basic recipe, including several optional ways to make the potion depending on the planned recipient.

“For children, you may wish to add peppermint.” Snape said, “Taste is actually important, because if they refuse to consume the potion, it does not matter how effective it would have been. For the elderly or infirm, you may want to dilute it slightly to avoid the intensity of the baseline recipe. Do not use this potion during pregnancy as it can be dangerous to the fetus.”

Hermione’s quill was almost literally smoking as she took copious notes. Snape curled the edge of his lip observing her behavior, but then crooked his eyebrow at Harry.

“Do you not need notes, Mr. Potter?”

“We share notes, sir.” Harry said, “Hers are much more legible.”

“Having graded your essays,” Professor Snape said, “I can attest to the likelihood of that.”

As they left, Harry was stunned. Once they had climbed the first set of stairs, he finally gave voice to his thoughts.

“Did we actually just receive a lesson from Professor Snape?”

Hermione grinned and nodded her head happily. “Wasn’t it wonderful?”

Harry just shook his head, still shocked. Snape obviously could teach. The only question was why he normally didn’t.

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5 March

At breakfast, the Headmaster again informed Harry he was expected in his office after breakfast.

“This is becoming quite a habit, Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

“I have told you the boy’s disruptive.” Umbridge said from further down the head table.

“Oh, Mr. Potter and I are well acquainted, Professor Umbridge.” Dumbledore said, “I daresay he is in my office more than any other student.”

Harry walked on, laughing inside at the veiled meaning of Dumbledore’s words. Umbridge was an idiot. He just hoped she wasn’t the idiot that closed the door on his hope to be an auror, among other potential jobs he was considering. A failure in DADA certainly wouldn’t open any doors.

Harry and Hermione both went up to the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore watched them come in and then cast some extremely powerful privacy charms with an unfamiliar wand made of hazel wood.

Dumbledore noticed their attention. “Ah, this is my original wand. Twelve inches, hazel with a phoenix feather core. That touches on what I brought you here to discuss. Please, have a seat.”

They both sat, quietly waiting for Dumbledore to start. Harry had come to understand that Dumbledore was similar to Hermione in some ways. He liked to lecture and the best thing to do was to let him start his own way.

“Have you ever heard of the Deathly Hallows?” Dumbledore began.

Harry shook his head and to his shock, so did Hermione.

“Ah, we have uncovered a gap in Miss Granger’s knowledge.” Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling, “To be honest, I am unsurprised. Wizarding children grow up hearing this tale, among others, as it is one of our common children’s stories.”

Dumbledore then told them the story of the three brothers who each made a request of Death and how each soon died except for the youngest brother, who lived with his invisibility cloak until he reached old age.

“Does this make you think of anything, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry thought for a few moments. “Not really, Professor. I mean I have an invisibility cloak, but so does Mad-Eye Moody. They’re not that uncommon.”

“No, Harry, you’re right. They’re not uncommon.” Hermione said, “But they’re expensive and somewhat delicate. Fabric is not easily enchanted. Only the highest quality fabric is enchantable at all, like our dueling robes, and tends to break down over years. I’ve never heard of an invisibility cloak lasting long enough to be passed from father to son.”

“Exactly, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said, “Your cloak has been in the Potter family for many generations. I asked your father to borrow it to research my suspicion that it might be something very special. It works better than any other invisibility cloak, as well. I suspected it was the cloak mentioned in the legend. I had grown interested in the Hallows as a young man after a tragedy in my family. I wanted to find the Stone of Resurrection, rumored to be able to bring the deceased back from the dead. Harry, may I see your ring?”

Harry nodded and handed it to the Headmaster.

The Headmaster looked at it in his hands longingly, seeming to consider something for several minutes. Something in his eyes seemed to clear as he came to a decision. He handed the ring back to Harry.

“Do you see this symbol?” Albus asked, pointing at the face of the stone, “This is the symbol of the Hallows. The wand, the stone, and the cloak. This is the Stone of Resurrection. I always longed for it to bring my sister back, but I realize now that nothing can truly bring her back. I suspect that to try would cause more pain than I care to inflict at this point in my life.”

Both Harry and Hermione were silent, speechless at the magnitude of this revelation from their beloved Headmaster.

“The wand I have used ever since I took it from Grindelwald is the wand of the legend, the Death Stick, also known as the Elder Wand. It is the most powerful wand in existence. It will only work for its master, whoever won it from the last master. Harry, you took it from me, so now you are its master. Should someone defeat you, they will become its master. You must not allow that to happen, for it is a powerful tool and would make Voldemort unstoppable. I want you to practice with it, but be extremely careful not to be defeated or disarmed. Hermione, I want you to be his failsafe. If he is ever defeated or disarmed, I want you to immediately disarm whoever had done so, without warning and without mercy. The elder wand must remain in our possession. You will need to drill with it, Harry. I have carefully gone over my pensieve memories of the time immediately after I began using it. There is an adjustment period when you will learn how to modulate your power. However, it is not very difficult, because the wand will do exactly as you wish so long as you are its master.”

“I have to tell you of another portion of the legend. Anyone who becomes the master of all three of the Hallows would become the Master of Death. I do not know what it means, but I have manipulated events so that you would become that person. For many years I had hoped to be the Master, but I finally realized that a longing for power was a weakness of mine and one that I must avoid.”

Harry was silent; trying to absorb everything Dumbledore had told him.

“You say the Resurrection Stone would cause pain to any it brought back?” Harry asked with a wistful tone in his voice.

“Yes, Harry, I am afraid so. There may come a point when your need to use it outweighs that concern. I know your parents would bear any pain to come to you, but please do not use it frivolously.” Dumbledore said gravely.

Harry nodded. He resolved right then to never use it. His parents had sacrificed enough for him. They would not have to sacrifice their eternal rest as well. Hermione snaked her arm around his waist and leaned into him, offering him support as she felt the emotional turmoil he was experiencing.

Harry and Hermione went to the Room of Requirement, looking for a way to relax and think about what Dumbledore had said.

“Why don’t we work on our animagus transformations?” Hermione offered, “We can work more on phoenix apparition.”

Harry nodded. Together they transformed.

Hermione became a gorgeous phoenix with a thick plumage of primarily dark chocolate colored feathers with an iridescent golden sheen that showed through from the underside. In the long tail feathers, gold was the dominant color with a mixture of some emerald green feathers. The plumage on her head was an emerald green which only gradually transitioned into the brown around the shoulders and her eyes were the chocolate brown Harry adored.

Harry was predominately the vivid emerald green color from the shoulders to the just short of the tail. His head plumage was raven-black with an iridescent sheen. At the crown of his head, the feathers stuck out every which way. The black head feathers made the emerald green eyes stand out. The back of the wings was darkest black, while the undersides were green. The tail feathers were mixed, each feather being either all black or all green.

They’d managed to master flying, which came naturally. After a few early catastrophic attempts, they’d both managed to get airborne and then their skills rapidly progressed. Phoenices were amazingly graceful for such a large bird. They’d found they were ridiculously strong while in phoenix form, able to lift each other by the tail with almost no effort. Only magic could account for that, because no wing loading accountable for by physics would allow a bird that could sit on someone’s shoulder to lift a single person, let alone several.

Phoenices apparently saw auras naturally, without effort. If it hadn’t been for their efforts in auramancy, both phoenix animagi would have been very confused the first time they transformed and the world was represented in a rainbow of color. This magical ability was easy, but apparition was not. They tried and tried, but neither had yet been successful. Harry had transformed back to a wizard, rolling on the floor laughing after Hermione’s first attempt. She’d transformed back, too, to look at him annoyed.

“What?!” she’d demanded.

“I didn’t know a phoenix could look constipated!” he’d laughed.

“What?” she’d protested.

“When you were trying so hard, that’s the best description I can give for how you looked!” Harry had said, still struggling to catch his breath.

Hermione had just shaken her head and transformed back to try again.

This time, she’d suddenly had an idea.

“Harry, what if you call Hedwig and have her teach us how?” Hermione asked.

“Do you think that could work?” Harry asked, wondering why they hadn’t tried before.

“It seems ridiculously simple, but we haven’t tried it.” Hermione said, shrugging.

Harry called Hedwig, the beautiful white phoenix with some black accents and glowing golden eyes. She flashed into existence in a burst of silver flame. The two teens transformed and it seemed like suddenly they could understand Hedwig.

<Harry my friend, now you understand me!> Hedwig called.

<I do!> Harry replied, <This is brilliant!>

<You called me for a reason, I sensed it when you summoned me.> Hedwig replied.

<Hermione/my mate and I can’t fire travel.> Harry communicated, <We hoped/longed for/hungered for you to teach us.>

<Ah, young one, it’s like this!> Hedwig said and disappeared in another flash of silver fire. Both Harry and Hermione could see/feel the magic now that they were paying close attention. It was obvious they’d been trying much too hard. Apparition came even more naturally to phoenices than flying.

They both disappeared, Harry in a flash of emerald fire the same color as his aura, Hermione in a flash of gold. They reappeared high above Hogwarts, having followed Hedwig, who was gliding below them. They each tucked their wings closer and pursued Hedwig, who led them in a merry chase of fire travel and flying. Harry’s earlier experience of apparating while dueling and flying with banishing charms was nothing compared to the insane but instinctive flying that Hedwig led them in. Flying under the covered wooden bridge only to loop over it, apparate from the bottom, when they were at highest speed to the top only to go over again in a dive, increasing speed again and again until they were flying so fast that only magical wings could withstand the strain of the g-forces, then to pull up into an almost vertical climb, letting the speed bleed off into pure altitude, running out of speed high above Hogwarts and then slowly falling back towards the Earth. In an effort to teach them, Hedwig led them on a game of follow the leader for hours. Once, they flew directly at one of the stone walls of Hogwarts only to blindly apparate through the wall, suddenly flying along the hallway, students ducking despite the fact they were nowhere near low enough to hit them. They blindly apparated and were swiftly flying through a girls’ shower, almost empty but for a few late risers, Hedwig hooting laughter at Harry’s felt embarrassment. Hermione called out her own laughter, which suddenly disappeared as they apparated through the boys’ shower.

<Not so funny now, huh?> Harry cried in phoenix.

<Shush, you!> Hermione cried, <Maybe those images will burn from my mind with our next travel.>

With a flash they shot through the Slytherin common room, green and silver robed children ducking out of the way. Another flash and they shot through Dumbledore’s office, his laughter following them out, Fawkes joining in their chase.

<Let’s get Ron!> Harry called.

<And Ginny!> Hermione replied.

They found they could sense where their friends were, obviously the same way Fawkes had found Harry in the previously unknown Chamber of Secrets. They flashed to them, landing on chairs in the Gryffindor common room, where Ron was playing chess with Neville and Ginny was studying next to them. Friday morning, the common room was fairly full, since the fifth year Gryffindors had a light schedule on Friday, the time reserved for completing homework and studying.

“Bloody hell, are those four phoenixes?” Ron said, almost knocking over the chess set as he stood abruptly.

<Phoenices!> Hermione cried.

“Their songs are so beautiful!” Ginny said, trying to reach out and touch Harry, “I like this one. Look at his eyes, they look like Harry’s.”

Ron did a double take. He looked at the glossy brown, gold, and green phoenix twice and then knew.

“Ginny, I’m going to go grab my broom. I’m going to grab Harry’s for you. Stay here.” Ron said as he hurried towards the boy’s dorm.

“Harry’s Firebolt?” Ginny asked surprised, “I don’t think he’d be ok with me borrowing it without asking.”

Ron looked back and saw the black headed phoenix nodding its head that it was ok to grab the broom.

“I somehow think he’s ok with it, Gin.” Ron said with a smile.

Neville ran up with Ron to grab his own broom. Both Neville and Hermione had been poor flyers at first. Hermione had finally broken her fear through bonding with Harry. Neville had to do it the hard way, with sheer willpower, but he was too in love with Ginny to let something as important to her as flying be foreign to him. He’d begged Harry to teach him how to fly better and Harry had given him secret lessons during the little downtime Harry had in his crazy new schedule. Once he’d gotten over his fear, Neville had turned out to be a decent flyer. Nowhere near on Ginny’s level, but about as good as Ron.

Ron ran down the stairs with his new broom and Harry’s firebolt. Neville had his own Nimbus his gran had bought for him when he’d owled her why he’d wanted it. The three started walking towards the portrait, but the dark headed phoenix flew in front of them, cutting them off, then pulling up and spreading his tail feathers.

“I think he wants us to grab hold.” Ron said.

“Are you sure he doesn’t bite?” Neville asked.

Harry chortled in phoenix laughter.

The three finally grabbed onto Harry’s feathers and Harry flashed to the Quidditch pitch. The other phoenices followed. Harry and Hermione spiraled around each other into the air.

Looking around and seeing the pitch deserted on a Friday mid-morning, Ron whispered to the other two.

“It’s Harry and Hermione!”

Neville and Ginny looked at each other and then back at the phoenices.

“It is!” they exclaimed in unison.

“I can’t believe they did the animagus and didn’t tell me!” Ginny complained.

“I can’t believe they became phoenixes.” Neville replied, “That’s unheard of, I think.”

<Phoenices!> Hermione cried.

The phoenixes led their friends on a more sedate version of the flying follow-the-leader game they’d done earlier, enjoying the cool early Spring air. They flew for another hour or two, knowing they were done when Ron started complaining about hunger. Harry and Hermione flashed them back to the common room and then flashed themselves away, appearing within Harry’s bed curtains, where they turned back into their normal shapes, only to meet Ron and Neville, who were returning the brooms.

“How?” Ron started, “Oh, you can apparate, that’s right.”

“Thanks for not being mad we didn’t tell you, Ron.” Harry said.

“I figure you had your reasons.” Ron said, “You better bloody well help me do it now, though.”

Hermione nodded and gave Ron a hug, refraining even from correcting his language.

“We’ll help all of you.”

That night Hermione gave each of the Black Isle Crew a copy of the animagus guide they’d followed, charmed to only be readable by them. She’d put a title on the front, “Marauder’s Guide to the Animagus Transformation”, which since some of the information came from McGonagall was not following the strictest attribution rules, but was essentially correct and more importantly honored Harry’s family.

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6 March

Draco was casting piercing hex after piercing hex under Alex’s close supervision. His wand work was precise and quick.

“You’ve been practicing.” Alex said quietly.

Draco just nodded and kept casting during the drill.

“What changed?” Alex asked.

“Can we talk later?” Draco asked, giving a quick look around at his fellow Slytherins whose parents had also contributed to Alex’s pay.

“Sure, stick around after.” Alex said, moving on to another of his students.

Alex sighed as the last of the students left. It wasn’t very rewarding, teaching the same things over and over to spoiled rich brats who didn’t listen. Each of them imagined he was the next great dueling champion, destined to bring great honor to their already honored family names. Alex refused to call them by their surnames, wanting to establish that they each had to build their own reputation, not try to rest on the reputation of their families. Draco was the most promising, but he had the same underlying problem. This had been his best practice so far and it was apparent he’d been working hard ahead of time. Alex quickly warded the room for privacy.

“Alright, Draco.” Alex said, “What changed?”

“I have heard all my life about honor. The great honor of the Malfoy name.” Draco said, “When it came down to it, though, I dueled Potter and lost. The Malfoy name did nothing for me. My lack of preparation left me completely outclassed and it was obvious even to me. At first, I was just mad at Potter. I planned to work with you to become better at dueling than he is. In the process, I’ve learned how good he really is and how hard it is to get that good. I finally realized that not all Potter’s honors have been just because of that ‘boy-who-lived’ crap. I realized the only way the Malfoy name will be honored in the future is if I bring honor to it. So I decided to get busy and do it.”

Alex nodded. “Don’t think the Malfoy name does nothing for you. If it weren’t for the Malfoy bank account you wouldn’t be training with me and becoming an accomplished duelist would be even more difficult. So on top of the great realizations you’ve had, remember that you’ve still got advantages that some others don’t have.”

Draco gave a short nod, his jaw muscles clenched.

“What do you think about Potter now?” Alex asked.

“I don’t necessarily like him.” Draco asked, “He’s an ass of a Gryffindor. Only recently has he seemed to think ahead at all instead of plowing through life like a bull. Now, though, I respect him. He’s accomplished a lot between his Quidditch accomplishments, winning the Triwizard cup, and becoming a really skilled duelist.”

“What are you going to do when your family connections pit you against him?” Alex asked.

Draco gave him a curious look that seemed to ask why he was asking so many questions about Potter, but he finally replied, “The Slytherin mindset is to look for the greatest advantage. I’m not going to blindly follow my father’s directions. Potter, for whatever reason, seems to win every time he defies the Dark Lord. I’m not confident he’ll keep doing so, though. So I’m going to try to go my own way. Not oppose Potter to the extent I have, but not try to buddy up with him. I want to focus on making myself more than I am while trying to stay neutral in this conflict.”

Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “That sounds like a fine plan. Less likely to get injured that way. I see you’re making progress on the strip. Keep working and you have potential.”

Draco nodded and left the classroom.

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6 March

Harry whooped as he passed inverted over the top of a loop, flying immediately behind Ginny while following a practice Snitch. They were playing pick-up Quidditch as a study break activity. He’d committed to revising for OWLs with Hermione for most of the day, but her playing some Quidditch was his price. Hermione was currently making a dash towards the goals with the Quaffle, her teammate Luna right beside her. They’d split up into the Weasleys vs. the world, which consisted of Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Neville. They were playing without beaters, which freed the twins up to play as chasers, Ginny as seeker, and Ron as keeper. On the ‘world’ team, it was Harry as seeker, Hermione and Luna as chasers, and Neville as keeper. The Weasleys were the better team, each of them having played more often and in at least one school game, however Harry was far and away the best Quidditch player among them and catching the Snitch was such a high value play that it balanced. Hermione was flying incredibly, the change since she’d bonded with Harry very obvious. Her animagus transformation had completed her personal transition from reluctant flyer to really skilled. Luna was pretty well suited to flying as a chaser, but Neville would have been a much better beater.

Hermione feinted a shot on goal while passing the Quaffle to Luna behind her back, something she’d seen done, but never tried. It wasn’t a perfect pass, but Luna had an uncanny knack for reading people and she was in the right place to catch it and immediately dump it in the goal furthest from Ron.

“Not bad, Hermione!” Ron called, “That’s 40 to 120, Weasley’s lead, right?”

“That’s right, Ron.” Hermione replied, “We know you’re still winning.”

“Good!” Ron said grinning, “Just wanted to be clear on that!”

At that moment, Harry came shooting between the two of them, still whooping with joy. Ginny was right behind him, unable to keep up with the ridiculous speed of the firebolt. It wasn’t clear at first whether he was trying to plough her into the ground with a Wronski feint or had the Snitch in sight until he came out of his dive with a golden glint shining between his fingers.

“190-120, world wins!” Harry called.

“Well, good game.” Ron called, sighing.

They all headed back inside. It was still a little cold out in the early spring of Scotland. The House Elves had hot chocolate waiting for them in the Gryffindor Common room where Harry and Hermione started studying, Ron and Neville began a game of chess with Luna curled up on Ron’s lap while Ginny tried to coach her boyfriend. The twins departed to whatever pranks they were probably working on.

“How are we doing on your revision schedule?” Harry asked.

“Not bad.” Hermione said, “We lost some time to figuring out Ron’s arm, but we’ve been going through the material faster than I assumed we would. You’re not holding us back as much as you used to.”

“Thanks, I think.” Harry said, grinning.

“Well, it’s true!” Hermione said.

“You’ve been a good influence.” Harry said with a sweet, lopsided smile.

Hermione felt a warm glow. How did Harry still do that to her?

“I don’t understand why you weren’t always like this.” Hermione finally said, “Your mum was supposed to be at the top of her class and your dad was eventually Head Boy. You definitely inherited their brains. Why did you ever slack so much before we got together?”

Harry looked at her, knowing she already knew the answer. She knew the Dursleys had beaten him if he’d done better than Dudley, enforcing their perception of the proper ranking between the two boys.

Hermione saw his look and huffed, “Well, it’s just one more reason for me to hate them.” She said, “Why wouldn’t they want you both to do your best. You might have been a good influence on Dudley if they’d pushed you to do your best.”

Harry shook his head. “Expecting the Dursleys to make sense is a losing proposition, Hermione. I will admit that it feels better to apply myself. I remember enjoying school before the Dursleys conditioned me not to and I feel like I’ve gotten back to that. I’ve always hated being famous for no reason, but it’s kind of nice to give people a reason to be impressed.”

Hermione gave him a smoldering look. Seeing him apply his intelligence was a huge turn-on for the studious Witch.

“Maybe we can make a little wager.” Hermione offered, “For every OWL you get… I’ll owe you one ‘favor’. For every OWL I get, you can owe me one. Outstandings can be worth two.” Her tone when she said ‘favor’ made it clear what kind of favor she was discussing.

“Let’s get back to the books.” Harry said, dropping his eyes back to his texts and missing the smirk he received in reply.

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After dinner they all gathered in the Room of Requirement. Harry had very high standards for continuous drilling, knowing that only through repetition would he get better and faster at his casting. He was making so much progress in his duels that he wanted to keep up the hard work, especially with Dumbledore’s warning that he would have to recalibrate now that he was using the Elder Wand. He and Hermione had agreed they wouldn’t share that piece of information. Both hated keeping secrets from their best friends, but this was just too important. However, if Dumbledore’s warning was right, they’d need to tell them something or else they’d wonder why Harry’s spells were suddenly more powerful.

“I need to recalibrate my spell power.” Harry said, “The Headmaster said I’d had something like a magical ‘growth spurt’, but my spells are hitting a lot harder now.”

“Harder?” Ron asked, “You’re already ridiculously powerful, how much stronger can you get?”

“No idea, Ron.” Harry said, “No matter how strong I get, Voldemort’s probably stronger, so I’m not going to question it.”

They set up a target range with standard dummies. Each of them took position ready to go. Harry focused intently, planning on starting with his SPEAR spell, his most-used spell which would make a good baseline for him. He’d never cast with the Elder Wand before and wondered how much of a difference it would make. Looking downrange, he saw five dummies set up. When it was just him, he preferred to set up ten, because then he could do more repetitions quickly, but even the giant Room of Requirement grew a little crowded when the six of them were each trying to set up five dummies each a good distance away.

Harry unleashed, focusing on smooth, small wand movements. The Elder Wand, carved with small elder berries, felt slightly different in his hand and he wanted to make his wand motions perfect, knowing speed would come naturally from a smooth tight movement and didn’t need to be forced. The movements of this particular spell were almost reflexive, given how often he cast it. The bursts of light rippled off the Elder Wand like flashes off a lake in the summer. The wand felt good in his hand, natural. Harry was shocked at the results. Instead of the normal result, the heads of the target dummies exploding, the entire dummy flashed into vapor.

Ron looked over at Harry, his mouth open. He then looked at Hermione and mouthed, “Growth spurt?” to which she just shook her head and went back to her own casting.

Harry continued doing repetitions, finding that casting with the Elder Wand felt very fluid and natural. It seemed to take less power and deliver greater results. He slowly recalibrated the amount of power he put into each spell, striving for enough to kill a Death Eater, but not enough to hurt surroundings. After he’d done 200 iterations of his SPEAR spell, he started on Hermione’s new stunner. He needed more work with this one, since it was new. It was lucky it was almost exactly the same as the stunner, though, because he already had a lot of muscle memory with that spell and just needed to retrain his body to add the small extra flourish that combined with the right non-verbal impetus created the pass-phrase locked stunner.

Harry kept drilling for hours. Eventually Ron and Luna wandered off, but Harry kept practicing. Ginny quit a half hour after her brother. She and Hermione went to a comfortable couch that suddenly appeared and started reading. Hermione was studying and helping Ginny with her work. Harry and Neville continued drilling. Neville had become almost as zealous as Harry, trying to make up for years of being thought of as a near-squib. However, even he eventually tired.

“Good job, Harry.” Neville said softly, “Keep it up. I’m going to walk Gin back to the dorm. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure thing, Neville.” Harry said absently. He was almost done getting comfortable with his piercing curses with the new wand and planned to move on to cutting curses next. With the minimal amount of power he had to put into his spells to get the desired effect with the Elder Wand he felt like he could go for days. He vaguely recalled Dumbledore had dueled with Grindelwald for three hours straight and they certainly were using more powerful spells than these.

Neville gave Hermione a hug and walked out with Ginny. Hermione gave Harry a fond glance, returning to her reading. She definitely understood the driven mentality and given that all the work he put in made it more likely he would survive the final battle, she didn’t disapprove at all.

Finally, around ten o’clock, Harry wrapped up. He felt his robes sticking to him, damp with sweat despite the cool interior temperature. His core felt drained, having cast almost continuously for almost four hours. His holly wand would be warm from that much magic passing through it, but the Elder Wand was almost cold to the touch, feeling somewhat sinister, although that could be his imagination.

“Done, Harry?” Hermione asked, laying on the sofa reading.

“Yeah.” Harry answered, “I’m just going to start getting sloppy if I keep going.”

“You’ve been at it long enough.” Hermione answered, “I wouldn’t have thought you could get any better, but you were looking really good there at the end.”

“Thanks.” Harry said, “I really think repetition is half of what separates the good from the best.”

“Well, keep it up.” Hermione said, tucking herself under his arm after putting her shoes on, “Ugh, you need a shower.”

“Thanks.” He said, grinning sheepishly.

That night Harry had another Voldemort sent dream, seen through his occlumency shields. It was the same dream, but with each repetition he got closer to the door.

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March 7

Harry and Hermione were walking back to the Gryffindor common room from breakfast, when they heard a familiar drawl coming from an empty classroom.

“Potter. Granger. Come here for a moment, please.”

They looked at each other and Harry dropped the Elder Wand into his hand from his wrist sheath. His Holly wand was on the other wrist and what had been his backup, but was now his third wand, was in a calf sheath.

Surprisingly, they found Malfoy sitting on a desk in the empty classroom, nobody else in sight.

“What do you want Malfoy?” Harry spit out, “I thought I told you to leave me alone?”

“Easy there, Potter.” Draco drawled, “I heard you. It’s hard not to when what you’re saying is backed up by a hole in the shoulder.”

Harry almost responded belligerently, but felt Hermione’s calming influence through the bond. Malfoy really had been quiet lately. It might be worth finding out why.

“Ok.” Harry said grudgingly, “Go ahead. What do you want?”

“You insist on making this difficult, don’t you Potter?” Malfoy said, seeming irritated himself, “I’ll try to keep this short. Since our duel I started working to try to get better at dueling myself. Get that look off your face – I didn’t let something slip, I told you that because it’s important to the story. If I wanted to keep it secret it would take more than a Gryffindor to get it out of me. Anyway, I learned how good you really are and how much work it took to get there. Now I see the difference between earned reputation and bought reputation. I’ve decided I like the earned kind better. So I wanted to let you know I’ve turned over a new leaf. I want to drop our feud. I don’t think we’ll ever be friends, but I have no intention of starting anything with you.”

Harry nodded. “Ok, good enough. What about when snake-face forces you to get involved?”

Malfoy shook his head. “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t want to be associated with that madman anymore. I have my own goals. I’m going to try to just lay low and not get involved at all.”

“Good luck with that.” Harry said dismissively.

“I know it’s not going to be easy.” Draco said heatedly, “You don’t know how hard it is.”

“You don’t know what hard is.” Harry spat, “Try growing up in a cupboard sometime.”

Draco looked confused, but then shook it off. “Whatever. I don’t even know why I’m telling you. Probably just so you don’t feel like you need to strike first. I just want to be left alone. I’m going to try to keep control of Slytherin, but some may want to associate with more aggressive elements once they see I’m not after you anymore.”

“Thanks for the warning, but let ‘em try.” Harry said.

Draco shrugged. “Ok, then, Potter. I just wanted to tell you I really respect what I’ve saw during the duel. Now that I know what it takes, I wanted to let you know.”

Harry looked at him surprised. Now he’d caught a glimmer of what Draco was really trying to say, even though the pale blonde probably didn’t know fully himself.

“Fair enough.” Harry said, “Good luck with your own training. Maybe someday we’ll trust each other enough that we could have a friendly duel.”

“I might like that.” Draco allowed with a feral grin.

Harry impulsively stuck his hand out. Draco looked at it for a moment, the corner of his lip starting to curl, but then he took it. They shook hands and departed as neutral acquaintances, probably the best encounter they’d had since their first meeting in Diagon Alley.

Once they were out of earshot, Hermione leaned into Harry and whispered, “I’m proud of you.”

“What for?” Harry said, surprised.

“You didn’t hex him.” Hermione said with a grin, “It’s not much, but that was a start.”

Harry and Hermione had gotten special permission to spend Sunday with the Grangers. They had planned on using House Elf apparition to travel to the Granger residence. Dumbledore had warned them that he suspected floo connections might be monitored. However, just before they apparated away from the Room of Requirement, Harry had winked at Hermione and disappeared in a flash of green flames. Without thinking, she followed him in a burst of gold.

“Harry Potter!” Hermione almost shrieked as she appeared in her parents’ living room, “What were you thinking?”

Harry grinned his lopsided grin at her, glancing at her parents before looking back to her.

“Don’t think my parents are going to get you out of this!” Hermione continued to rant, “For the first time we used flame travel in our regular forms, we should have tried small hops, then worked up to bigger hops. Not gone straight to my parents’ house all willy-nilly!”

“It worked.” Harry said, “So I took a chance. Nothing bad happened.”

“Don’t you know how much I worry about you, Harry Potter?” Hermione asked dolefully.

“Yes, I have a hint.” Harry said apologetically.

They spent the day with the Grangers making wedding plans. It was fun for Harry to see Hermione getting so excited about something other than academics. In turn, she would steal glances at him, smiling and happy that she was preparing to marry the boy she’d loved almost since she’d started Hogwarts.

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Mar 31

March had passed with school work, dueling, and wedding preparations. With the Elder Wand, Harry had found he was getting better and better at dueling Dumbledore. Harry remained undefeated since the wand had changed hands, but was challenged enough to push him to continue developing new skills.

Dumbledore’s Army continued to meet and train. Harry could barely believe it had been almost a full academic year since they’d started the group. He’d never imagined himself teaching, but now that he was doing it, he really enjoyed it. Despite everything Umbridge could do, he felt like this might have been one of the most productive years for learning Defense at Hogwarts. Even though she’d tried to keep them from learning anything practical, the fact that she’d forced them to learn independently had probably resulted in greater gains for the students involved in the DA than they would have seen even if they’d had a decent conventional professor.

He could honestly say that every member of the DA was proficient with basic defense against other wizards. They could all shield proficiently, dodge nimbly, and cast a handful of effective curses to counter attack. He’d taught them specific curses for werewolves, vampires, and the inferi. Tonight they continued to work on one of the most difficult of spells, the only weapon effective against Dementors.

Colin Creevey was the last member that Harry expected might be able to cast a corporeal patronus this year who hadn’t yet. His younger brother, Dennis, was a second year. Harry had learned the spell as a third year, which had been really unusual, but he didn’t expect Dennis would be able to do it as a second year. That hadn’t kept him from trying, but Harry was focused on Colin, since he thought there was a good chance he’d get it.

“Come on, Colin, think of a really happy memory!” Harry encouraged.

Colin focused and called out, “Expecto Patronum!”. A large amount of white mist formed, but not quite enough to form a shape.

“Almost Colin, keep working on it.” Harry said. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ginny whispering to Hermione. Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair and Harry was surprised by the amount of embarrassment and then determination he could feel through the bond. Hermione nodded. When she caught him looking at her she gave him an embarrassed smile, then quickly looked away.

“Colin, come over here.” Hermione said, “We’re going to coach you.”

Every female member of the DA except Marietta who hadn’t attended this meeting gathered around Colin. Somehow they shuffled until he had his back to a corner of the room. Harry noticed Cedric was grinning about something, as were the twins. Hermione kept up a constant patter of tips on the best way to cast a patronus.

“But the most important thing is you must have a really happy memory!” Hermione said. Almost as if on cue, all the girls lifted their sweaters. Harry and the rest of the men on the DA could only see their backs, but Colin obviously saw everything. His mouth dropped open and he looked almost exactly as he had during his first year, when he’d been petrified.

“Now, Colin, now!” Hermione urged.

“Expecto Patronum!” Colin called out. An English bulldog sprang out of his wand, running around the legs of the schoolgirls surrounding him. They all dropped their sweaters down, many of them giggling. They surrounded Colin even closer, laughing and patting him on the back.

“Good job, Colin!” Hermione said.

“Too bad you didn’t have your camera that time, Colin.” Harry said, “Ok, great job. I guess that shows the importance of teamwork.” The DA members laughed at his quip. “We don’t have any more time for duels today. Let’s get back to our common rooms.”

Harry took a look at the Marauder’s Map and was concerned to see a lot of Slytherins walking towards the Room of Requirement. He noticed Delores Umbridge’s name in the lead with Marietta Edgecombe’s name next to her. They were coming too purposefully towards the room for it to be just another search. Just as he noticed this, Dobby popped into the room.

“Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby squeaked, “The bad toad woman is coming to get you!”

“Right.” Harry Potter said, quickly synthesizing the information, “DA, Umbridge has found us somehow. We could try to hide here, but we should have time to scatter before we’re trapped here, which would be awkward, because a headcount would show we were all missing. They’re approaching this way…” he said pointing at the map, “that leaves these routes as our best escapes. Everyone set? Go!”

They’d covered various plans for escape should Umbridge ever find them. They hadn’t planned on a direct betrayal, which made it more difficult, but everyone had memorized a number of planned routes. Harry watched as the membership of the DA rushed out the door, scattering into small groups and taking assorted different paths out. It was still before curfew, so the initial goal was to split into small enough groups to be believable and to get into normal places, such as loos or even broom closets, because the punishment for snogging would be worth hiding the existence of the DA. Harry watched as the DA scattered. He watched Ron safely lead his small group around the searchers. Ginny, Neville, and Luna avoided them as well. Cho Chang led her Ravenclaws by the searchers. Cedric was also clear. Eventually, only one name was exposed. Somehow Dennis Creevey had gotten separated from his group of assigned Gryffindors. Both Harry and Hermione held their breath, hoping he could get away. He was small and fast, but alone against a wave of Slytherin names, he was helpless. Soon his dot was surrounded by searchers, including Umbridge.

“Bugger.” Harry exclaimed, pounding his fist into his thigh. He thought a minute. “Hermione, I need to get him. She believes in torture and Dennis is just a second year. Why don’t you let Dumbledore and McGonagall know what’s happening.”

“I’m going with you!” Hermione shouted, “I’m not going to let that bitch torture you!”

“You know I can handle myself.” Harry said with a loving smile, “Let McGonagall and Dumbledore know and then you can come to me. Here’s the map.”

“I’d know where you were no matter what, Harry. You know that.” Hermione said, reluctantly moving away from him, “Be careful.”

Harry nodded and walked purposefully from the room. Hermione vanished with a tiny pop, apparating in front of McGonagall’s office. She quickly gave the password and slipped inside.

“Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said, interrupting her favorite professor’s grading, “we have a problem.” After quickly explaining to her, they both set out for the Headmaster’s office.

“We need to tell the Headmaster.” Professor McGonagall said, “I normally would rush to young Mr. Creevey’s aid, but Mr. Potter won’t let him come to harm and Albus must know.”

They called the Headmaster’s office through the floo. After a delay, Dumbledore answered.

“Ah, Minerva, so good of you to call. I am afraid I have company at the moment. What can I do for you?”

“I am with Miss Granger.” McGonagall said, “She had a concern she wanted to discuss with you.”

“Unfortunately, I am locked in a meeting with Minister Fudge.” Dumbledore replied, “He apparently is concerned there might be anti-Ministry activities here at Hogwarts. Professor Umbridge has promised to bring us proof.”

“That sounds like a meeting the Deputy Headmistress may need to attend.” McGonagall said, “Perhaps I should floo through to your office?”

“That would probably be for the best.” Dumbledore answered, “Please bring Miss Granger with you. As a prefect, she may be helpful.”

McGonagall and Hermione floo’d to the Headmaster’s office, where they encountered Minister Fudge in a pinstripe suit and bowler hat. He had two aurors with him. One, Dawlish, was the same he’d brought when he’d come to execute Buckbeak. The other was a tall black man, dressed in richly decorated robes. Hermione had never met him, but Dumbledore had mentioned his name, Kingsley Shacklebolt, after the confrontation in Diagon Alley.

“Professor McGonagall, you know Minister Fudge?” Dumbledore asked politely, “This is Auror Dawlish and Auror Shacklebolt.”

“How do you do?” McGonagall asked, “May I ask what is going on, Albus?”

“The Minister apparently has intelligence that anti-Ministry activities are occurring at Hogwarts. I think this is very unlikely, as this is a school, but Professor Umbridge has promised to bring back proof. That should be her at the door, now.”

Umbridge walked in with Harry. Both had their wands in their hands. Harry looked quite calm, but Umbridge was pale and breathing heavily. Sweat shone greasily on her forehead through her thick caked on makeup. Dennis Creevey was with them, immediately behind Harry on the side opposite Umbridge. He looked shaken, but unharmed. Marietta Edgecombe was in a similar position to Dennis, but on Umbridge’s side. She was barely identifiable because she had her face covered with her robes.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Minister Fudge asked, “Take his wand!”

Dawlish stepped forward, but Harry just glanced at him, his thighs flexing as he settled into a deeper balanced stance. His magic flared out and Dawlish hesitated.

“Minister, surely you are not concerned about a fifth year Hogwarts student? Particularly Harry Potter?” Albus said in his most reasonable voice, “Perhaps if I simply ask Mr. Potter to put his wand away, then that would be satisfactory?”

“It certainly would not!” Umbridge shrieked, finally catching her breath, “I had some of my handpicked assistants with me when I went to capture the anti-Ministry gang Harry Potter has formed. They must have been informed we were coming, because the only one I was able to find was that one!” she said pointing to Dennis, “I was bringing him back to question him, when Mr. Potter walked up to us. I ordered my assistants to disarm him, but he began attacking them, stunning all of them! I couldn’t even wake them up, my attempts to innervate them were completely useless. He refused to let me take his wand, either, but offered to accompany me back to the Headmaster’s office. He must be sent straight to Azkaban!”

“When he stunned those students, they were attempting to take his wand?” Dumbledore asked.

“At my orders!” Umbridge shrieked.

“Self-defense is a completely valid justification for stunning another Wizard.” Dumbledore said, “Those were students and not aurors. There really is no excuse to have them attempt to restrain or disarm another student. Harry, please put away your wand. Maybe we should discuss what it is you wanted us to discuss?”

Fudge nodded and Dawlish took a step back, looking relieved.

“Well, as I told the Minister, I have suspected there was an illegal organization meeting. They were seen at an initial meeting in Hogsmeade by an informant of mine. I have been searching for more evidence, but they have been very crafty. Eventually, Miss Edgecombe, daughter of Madam Edgecombe, one of our Floo Network employees, came forward and provided me the information I needed. I plan to arrest each of the students involved!”

“Arrest students for what, exactly, Madame Umbridge?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling.

“For forming an illegal organization meant to bring the Ministry down!” Umbridge snapped back.

“Illegal organization?” Dumbledore asked, “School clubs are not illegal.”

“They are under Educational Decree Number 24!” Umbridge said triumphantly.

“Which was passed after you saw them in Hogsmeade, if I understand your timeline correctly.” Dumbledore said.

“They’ve been meeting ever since!” Umbridge shrieked.

“Have they?” Dumbledore asked, “I thought you were unable to ever find a meeting?”

“Miss Edgecombe told me of their regular meetings!” Umbridge said, lifting her chin slightly, making the rolls of fat underneath wobble.

“Is this true, Miss Edgecombe?” Dumbledore asked, looking at Marietta, who tucked her face more firmly into her robes.

“Miss Edgecombe, tell them what you told me!” Umbridge snapped.

Harry felt a bolt of magic fly by him. He sensed it came from Shacklebolt, who was behind the Minister, and hit Marietta. It had been very subtly cast and nobody else seemed to notice. Marietta refused to move her face out of her robes and nobody could hear her voice.

“These miscreants hexed this poor dear and now she’s afraid to show her face. I was unable to remove the jinx.” Umbridge said, “It’s ok, dear, just nod yes or shake your head for no. Were you present for meetings of an illegal club?”

Marietta shook her head no.

“What?!” Umbridge howled, “Yes you were! You told me you were. Let’s try again, were you present at meetings of an illegal dueling club formed by Harry Potter?”

Marietta again shook her head no.

Umbridge grabbed her by the shoulders and began shaking her.

“You will not touch my students!” Dumbledore boomed, standing straight. Suddenly his presence filled the room and it was unmistakable that this was one of the greatest Wizards alive. It was easy to understand why he was the only Wizard Voldemort was said to fear.

Umbridge shrieked in surprise and stepped away from Marietta.

“I don’t know what came over me.” Umbridge said, wiping her hands on her pink woolen skirt, “I was just so shocked she would lie like that…”

“Is there any evidence she is lying?” Dumbledore said, “Your story seems a little thin to me, Madame Umbridge.”

“Luckily, before she changed her story, she gave me this.” Umbridge said, holding out the DA roster. Everyone looked and saw clearly written, ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ followed by all their signed names. Hermione dropped her head. Why hadn’t she charmed it to be unreadable as well as to punish those who betrayed them?

The Minster looked shocked at first, but then triumphant. Dumbledore looked at the roster with an unreadable look. He seemed surprised and almost…pleased.

“I knew it!” Fudge exclaimed, “Harry Potter is forming an army to disrupt my government! Aurors, seize him!”

“Wait!” Dumbledore thundered, “Minister Fudge, what does it say at the top of that sheet?”

“Dumbledore’s Army…” Fudge read.

“That’s right.” Dumbledore said, “Dumbledore’s Army, not Potter’s Army.”

Harry shook his head, stepping forward, but with a glance from Dumbledore, he held his tongue.

“I think it should be clear who is in charge of this group.” Dumbledore said, his voice resonant, “I am afraid you are operating under a misconception. No student could hide something of this magnitude.”

Fudge looked startled and afraid, but also pleased.

“You’re right!” Fudge said, “Aurors, seize Dumbledore’s wand and prepare to take him to Azkaban.”

“Another misconception, I am afraid, Fudge.” Dumbledore said grimly, “You seem to think I am going to go quietly.”

Fudge just gaped.

Dumbledore drew his wand, his hand like lightning. A silver flash flew from the tip of it. McGonagall forced Hermione to the ground in an effort to keep her favorite student safe, while Hermione quietly drew her wand. Harry grabbed Dennis and partially shielded him, his own wand in his hand.

Harry looked around. Fudge, Dawlish, Umbridge, and Marietta were all unconscious.

“I am afraid we do not have much time.” Dumbledore said, “I will have to leave. Harry, you will continue with Filius. Hermione, you will continue with McGonagall. I will not be far. Remember, help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”

“Albus...” Harry said, his eyes shining, “I’m so sorry.”

“Please, Harry.” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, “You cannot know how pleased I am that you chose to name your club after me. I doubt I will be gone for long. You have already laid the foundation for my return. That Quibbler article was genius.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, “It was Hermione’s idea.”

“You have always been blessed in your selection of friends.” Dumbledore said, “The spell will not last much longer. I must disappear. Minerva, keep my students safe.”

McGonagall could only nod.

Dumbledore strode behind his desk. The others crouched down again, in the same position they’d been in. The Ministry officials began to wake. Fudge lifted his head and pointed at Dumbledore.

“Quick, he’s getting away!”

Dumbledore lifted his hands and with a flash of red and gold fire and thunderclap of sound, Fawkes appeared, Dumbledore grabbed his tail, and they disappeared.

Shacklebolt shook his head. “One thing you can say about Dumbledore…he’s always had style.”

In the aftermath of the confrontation, Umbridge was appointed by the Minster as interim Headmistress of Hogwarts. Harry and Hermione were released, probably due to the shock the Ministry officials were in. Hermione non-verbally summoned the DA roster, removing their only evidence. They walked back to the Gryffindor common room with Dennis.

“Hermione?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Harry?” Hermione answered.

“Do you think I should give Poppy the passphrase for your stunning spell?”

Hermione chuckled.

“That might be nice. In a day or so.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

A/N: This one is somewhat of a transitional chapter. Important things happen, but it doesn’t necessarily have the “wow” of the last one. A big event I’ve been building up to for a long time is coming up in the next 2-3 chapters and then another one soon after that. I’m excited!

Please read and review! If you haven’t read Chapter 26, please do!

30. Phoenix Rampant

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter.

Chapter 30: Phoenix Rampant

April 1

Coming into the Great Hall for breakfast and seeing Umbridge sitting in the Headmaster’s…or rather Headmistress’ chair was almost enough to make Harry cry. Hermione squeezed his hand in support and they silently took their places, although neither felt very hungry.

“Funny April Fool’s joke of Dumbledore’s, eh?” Fred asked.

“Poor taste, maybe, but funny in a ridiculous kind of way.” George continued.

“Wait…why are you looking so down, Harry?” Fred asked.

“It’s no joke.” Harry said, “You missed the end of last night’s action. After we all fled, Dennis was captured. I rescued him, but Umbridge took me to the Headmaster’s office, where Fudge was waiting. She wanted me to go to Azkaban. Marietta had betrayed us, including giving the roster to Umbridge. Dumbledore took the blame and here we are.”

Everyone at the table looked stunned, although some of them had been in the common room waiting for Harry and already knew the bad news. Even hearing it again, though, combined with seeing the pink toad sitting in Dumbledore’s seat was enough to lower spirits.

“What are we going to do, Mate?” Ron asked.

“Lay low.” Harry said, “Study for our OWLs, keep training… there’s nothing else we can do.”

Harry and Hermione were preparing to leave the Great Hall to do a little extra last-minute studying before potions, when Umbridge called Harry’s name.

“Hem, hem.” Umbridge loudly cleared her throat, then when everyone ignored her attempt to get their attention, she shouted across the room, “Mr. Potter, come here.”

Harry stood up and walked to the Head Table.

“I suppose you’ve become used to morning trips to the Headmaster’s Office, haven’t you?” Umbridge said in her saccharine voice, “So it won’t be any bother to come by my office this morning, will it?”

“Well, Professor…” Harry started.

“Headmistress, Mr. Potter.” Umbridge said smugly.

“Headmistress, I am afraid I really should be studying for potions.” Harry said, “I’m already taking remedial potions and I should try to do well so I can apply for the auror academy after graduation.”

“I hardly think you’re a suitable candidate, Mr. Potter.” Umbridge said dismissively, “You will come to my office. I can even show you something about potions.”

Harry just nodded. As he started to turn away from the table, Snape caught his eye. His black eyes seemed to give a warning. Harry relaxed his occlumency shields the tiniest amount to let the Potion Master read his understanding. This was not to be a meeting with Umbridge. It was to be an interrogation.

“Oh, Mr. Potter?” Umbridge caught his attention, “I am still in the Defense Professor’s office. It will serve as the Headmistress’ office in the interim.”

Harry turned away before she saw his smile. If the toad wasn’t using Dumbledore’s office, it was because she couldn’t get in, which was a relief. All of the Headmaster’s devices and private library were secure.

Harry caught up to Hermione in the hall. She already knew what Umbridge had wanted, had in fact predicted something similar before they’d gone to sleep the night before.

“So how are you going to deal with it?” Hermione asked.

“Like we discussed…” Harry said, “having mastered the non-verbal vanishing charm will make it much easier. If not, I’ll try to just dump it. If not, I’ll see if occlumency can block veritaserum. There are rumors.”

“There are.” Hermione confirmed, “That doesn’t mean I want you to test them! Luckily, if she stays on what she cares about, which is her imagined plot against the Ministry, you’ll be pretty safe anyway, since there is no such plot. It’s only if she starts quizzing you on Voldemort that things get dangerous. We can’t afford to let that information slip out.”

Non-verbally she told him she’d back him up. He passed her the invisibility cloak as they walked up the stairs. Quickly they walked up to the fifth floor, where they slipped into the Prefect’s Bath.

“Do be careful, Harry.” Hermione urged, drawing him down for a prolonged kiss.

“You’ll be right there, Hermione!” Harry answered, smiling after the kiss, “Nothing to worry about!”

“Oh, I know.” Hermione said, “I still worry. It’s always something with you. If things go wrong-side up, there could be blood...”

“There could.” Harry agreed, “You know it wouldn’t be ours.”

“That could be even worse.” Hermione said, “We can’t attend school if we’re fugitives from the Ministry.”

“We could be killed or even worse…” Harry said, starting a familiar tease.

“Expelled!” they both said together.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Hermione said, blushing.

Hermione wrapped herself in the invisibility cloak and they left the Prefect’s Bathroom. They’d grown accustomed enough to the bond that Hermione could walk almost on Harry’s shadow without ever bumping into him. She planned on slipping into the office right behind him and then hiding in a corner. Harry walked to the Defense Professor’s office and knocked on the door. Umbridge, having had time to return to her office from the Great Hall, opened the door.

“Ah, Mr. Potter.” Umbridge said sweetly, “Good of you to be prompt.”

She opened the door wide and Harry was again sickened by how she’d decorated the office. The room, which had been filled with Defense paraphernalia under Moody’s tenure, was now painted pink. Every surface was draped in lacy covers and cloths. One wall had a collection of decorative plates each with a picture of a kitten. He stepped inside, holding his hand in the way of the door long enough to give Hermione time to slip in behind him.

“Have a seat, Mr. Potter.” Umbridge said, sitting down herself, “I brought you here for a little discussion. I think we may have gotten off to a bad start and perhaps it’s best if we start over. Pardon my manners, have a cup of tea.”

She poured tea from a silver tea service into a pink overly feminine cup with matching saucer and pushed it to Harry.

“So you want to be an auror?” Umbridge asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry said. He hated being so polite to her, but his goal was to get out of her office without having to duel. In any duel now, he had to win. If he won, he would be a fugitive from the Ministry and maybe a killer. Unless…he needed to learn to obliviate and soon.

“Why would you want that?” Umbridge said, “Aurors work for the Ministry and you don’t seem the type.”

Harry toyed with the tea cup on the saucer.

“I want to oppose Dark wizards wherever they raise their heads.” He said honestly, “I feel like it’s something of a calling for me.”

“Oh, dear, I forgot to offer…milk or sugar?” Umbridge asked.

“A bit of lemon if you have it?” Harry asked, suddenly trying to remember if acid could ruin veritaserum.

She placed a wedge of lemon on his tea saucer. Harry squeezed it into his tea, trying to express as much of the juice as he possibly could.

“How is it?” Umbridge asked.

Harry felt like he had used up as much time as he dared with conversation. He looked into the tea cup and focused, casting a wandless vanishing spell on the tea. It disappeared. He pantomimed drinking the entire cup of tea despite the fact that the inside was as dry as if it had just come from the shelf.

“Ah, very good.” Harry said, then raised his occlumency shields as high as he could, trying to let the flatness of occlumency substitute for the flat affect of the target of veritaserum, “The tea tastes good.”

“Wonderful, Mr. Potter.” Umbridge said, smiling, “Where is Dumbledore?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me where he was going.” Harry answered honestly.

“What was he planning?” Umbridge asked.

“He doesn’t share all his plans with me.” Harry said, “He teaches me. He planned to keep teaching me.”

Umbridge looked frustrated at this.

“How did he plan to overthrow the Ministry?” she asked impatiently.

“He didn’t tell me of any plans to overthrow the ministry.” Harry said, again truthfully.

“Who does Dumbledore work with?” Umbridge asked.

Harry decided this was one he could have fun with and burn up some time, “Dumbledore works with Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. He works with Professor Flitwick, the Charms Professor. He works with Professor Snape, the Potions Professor. He works with Professor Umbridge, the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor….”

“Stop!” Umbridge commanded, “I mean who does he work with in his plans to overthrow the Ministry?”

“He didn’t tell me of any plans to overthrow the ministry.” Harry repeated.

Umbridge was pacing. “The veritaserum must have worn off. Or maybe it didn’t work in the first place. I must have more.”

She went to the floo and called the Potion Master’s office. Professor Snape answered.

“Yes, may I help you?” he asked flatly.

“Yes, I need you to bring more veritaserum to my office.” Umbridge demanded.

“I’m afraid you’ve used my entire supply.” Snape answered silkily, “I should have time to brew more this weekend, but it is a very complicated potion. It needs a full lunar cycle to mature.”

“That’s not good enough!” Umbridge protested.

“I’m sorry, Headmistress.” Snape answered, “It’s the best I can do. Unless of course you want to poison Mr. Potter, which I would not object to.”

Umbridge turned to Harry. “Get out of my office. You’re dismissed.”

Harry nodded and slowly rose from his chair, giving Hermione time to quietly move nearer. He then opened the door and left slowly, allowing her time to follow him out. He then walked towards the Dungeon, darting into a broom closet as he passed. Hermione whipped off the invisibility cloak.

“You did brilliantly, Harry!” she gushed, “I knew you could do it!”

“Who knew that learning to cast the vanishing charm non-verbally would come in so handy!” Harry said, “I learned it because I was mad at McGonagall because she didn’t stick up for me with Umbridge.”

“Well, it worked.” Hermione smiled, “I noticed the trick with the lemon, by the way. That wouldn’t have worked. Think about it…your stomach is full of acid.”

“Oh, right.” Harry said, “Well, lucky the vanishing charm worked, then.”

They went to potions and Snape actually seemed happy to see them, which in him simply meant that he was less demeaning than normal. Apparently seeing Umbridge balked was enough to brighten his day.

While they were all quietly brewing potions, a tiny sparkler slipped in under the door, shooting around the room in corkscrew patterns. Snape watched it for a few moments, then waved his wand in a vanishing charm. The spell hit the tiny sparkler and it exploded into a dragon, roaring around the room. Snape leaped out of his chair and chased it out the door with expertly aimed hexes, slamming the door behind it.

“I sent it up to the second floor.” Snape said drily, “I thought the Headmistress should deal with it.”

He thought a moment. “Potter, Granger, you appear to be done with your potions. Perhaps you could go alert the Headmistress to our little firework problem?”

They nodded, grabbing their books and hurrying out. They ran up the stairs, hoping to see other examples. They ran to the Transfiguration classroom. The door was open and they could easily see a firework dragon, whether the same one or another just like it, flying around the classroom emitting loud bangs and exhaling flame. Professor McGonagall was watching it. She caught Hermione’s eye and winked.

“Ah, Miss Granger! Please, could you run along and tell the Headmistress we have an escaped firework in our classroom?”

Hermione nodded and they ran up the stairs back to the DADA Professor’s office. Harry knocked quite loudly, hoping he would make Umbridge spill her tea.

“Who is banging on my door?” Umbridge said as she opened it, “Mr. Potter? I thought you said you were very intent on potions earlier? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Professor Snape sent us.” Harry said, “There was a firework dragon in our classroom!”

One of the dragons, likely the one Snape had herded towards her office, flew in the door. The students ducked as it sizzled overhead.

“There it is.” Hermione said helpfully.

Umbridge pointed her wand and cast a vanishing charm. The dragon seemed to grow ten times larger and roared, knocking all the plates off Umbridge’s wall. The toad-like woman screamed and ran out of her office, slamming the door behind her, shutting the dragon inside.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Fireworks apparently, Headmistress.” Harry said.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, Professor McGonagall asked if we could tell you there’s one in her class, too. She wondered whether you could help get rid of it?” Hermione said sweetly.

“Ummmm….” Umbridge stalled, “Perhaps I’ll go get Professor Flitwick. This seems like a Charms problem. Come with me.”

Umbridge looked like she thought she would be able to duck behind them if another dragon presented itself. They walked down another set of stairs towards the Charms classroom. A giant Catherine Wheel flew overhead, emitting a whistling sound and showers of golden sparks.

“Oooh, pretty.” Hermione said, “I like that gold color.”

They reached the Charms classroom where Flitwick was standing on a box, watching sparklers race around the room.

“Ah, Headmistress Umbridge.” Professor Flitwick said, “I’m glad you came. I didn’t think the student I sent would reach you this quickly. I hoped you might help remove these sparklers?”

Her eyes wide, Umbridge again pulled out her wand. She waited until the sparklers were in front of a window and then banished them through, watching as they shot out. She released a tightly held breath in relief she’d actually managed to get rid of some.

“Thank you so much, Professor!” Flitwick squeaked, “I could have gotten rid of them myself, of course, but I wasn’t sure whether I had the authority.” Smiling, he slammed the door in the toad-woman’s face.

Umbridge stamped her foot. She’d been hoping she could set him to ridding the castle of all the fireworks.

They walked together to the Transfiguration classroom, where McGonagall was casting spells on the dragon, still in her classroom. Each time she cast, the dragon split into two equally large dragons. She continued to cast the same spell over and over. Dragons were crowding the classroom and escaping down the halls.

“Ah, thank heavens you’re here, Headmistress.” McGonagall said with a trace of her burr, “Somehow nothing I do seems to help.”

“Stop that, this instant!” Umbridge said as McGonagall forced the fireworks creature to split yet again.

“Pardon?” McGonagall said, “I’m sure it will work one of these times. I think I have the motion off a bit.”

Umbridge stomped off.

“You two, return to your class. I’m going to get Filch.” Umbridge said.

Harry had to stifle a laugh at that. The squib caretaker wasn’t going to be able to do much at all. This was a brilliant prank and seemed to be driving Umbridge even battier.

Harry and Hermione reached the Potions classroom just in time for class to be dismissed. They grabbed Ron and Neville and walked to lunch, smiling. The fireworks prank had brightened what would otherwise have been a very dismal day.

Throughout lunch the fireworks seemed to parade themselves through the Great Hall as if showing off for the assembled students. Hermione was examining them using spells and auramancy.

“They seem to be set to prefer groups of people.” Hermione mused, “Brilliant idea, you don’t want your fireworks going away from the audience, but explains why they keep going into classrooms.”

“So you like them?” George said, sitting next to Hermione.

“Want to help us make them better?” Fred asked.

“Everyone says you’re a bright one.” George continued.

“We have room in our R&D department for someone like you.” Fred said, smiling at the young Witch.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and cocked her head at them.

“Really you two. I am a prefect.” Hermione snapped.

“And?” George said, “Does that mean you can’t have a sense of humor?”

“You’ll only make your fiancee’s profits higher.” Fred said, “Besides contributing to Delores’ misery.”

“I’m in.” Hermione said quietly, “On the DL of course.”

“We’re the soul of discretion.” The twins said in unison.

That night, after a combined occlumency and potion revision session with Snape, Harry was able to watch the Voldemort sent vision progress even further. He opened the door into a circular room and then walked straight across to another door, which swung inward. He was in a long rectangular room full of mechanical ticking with a door at the far end, which also opened at his touch. In a dimly lit room, with high ceiling and wide expanse like a warehouse, he saw rows and rows of towering shelves. Each was full of small, dusty spun-glass spheres.

He awoke with a BANG! Two of the twins’ fireworks had collided, mating to produce flying pigs. He watched them with the rest of the fifth year boys until they finally faded.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

April 5th

Harry’s weekend had been full of revising with Hermione and dueling practice. He was becoming convinced that Hermione had decided to skip OWLs and jump straight to NEWTs. Every book he could find on what to expect for OWLs showed they were already over prepared and he feared she was just gearing up. No matter how much he loved her, he sometimes agreed with Ron’s early assessment that she was completely mental, particularly around exam time.

He’d been working hard lately to pay attention in history of magic. It meant a lot to her that he tried, despite the fact that Binns’ obsession with the Goblin Wars didn’t match the priorities of the revising schedule she’s created. In fact, what Binns taught was less than ten percent of what she’d planned for them to learn while revising and Harry had quickly learned that reading the textbook was a much faster way of learning the material. However, if it hadn’t been for the weekend of non-stop revising he didn’t think he would have fallen asleep in class.

Having fallen asleep he dropped straight into his recurrent vision, sent as to seem like a dream. Seen through the occlumency shields it was very clear that it wasn’t, but some of the attached emotional weight came through despite his shields and the whole thing felt very uneasy. He quickly passed through the first door, through the circular room, through the ticking room, and into the warehouse room full of spheres. He reached the shelf labeled with ninety-seven and turned down it. There was a shape on the ground, curled around itself like an animal. His own hand, pale and almost-skeletal rose with a bone-white wand in his hand.

“Take it down for me, you can touch it, but I can’t.” Voldemort’s voice hissed out at the unknown person on the ground, “Do it, now! No? Your resistance can be broken… Crucio!”

The person on the ground writhed in agony and Harry saw through Voldemort’s eyes exactly who he was torturing. It was Sirius, his Godfather!

“No, I won’t do it!” Sirius grunted, “You’ll have to kill me first!”

“Undoubtedly I will in the end, but you will get it for me, first.” Voldemort said, “You only think you have felt pain thus far. We have hours and you will get it for me.”

Harry heard a scream and felt an impact. He realized it was him and he’d fallen out of his chair to the floor. Hermione was cradling his head.

“Reinforce your shields, Harry.” She was murmuring as she stroked his head, “Strengthen them. Block him.”

Harry did as she said and the emotions that had been tied to the vision decreased, but he was still uneasy.

“Voldemort has Sirius!” he exclaimed, pitched for Hermione’s ears only.

Binns was still talking, probably hadn’t even noticed one of his students had fallen to the floor. Harry’s classmates were looking at him uneasily.

“I’m going to take Harry to the infirmary, Professor Binns.” Hermione said, “Ron, do you think you can help me carry him?”

Ron nodded and between the two of them they helped Harry out of the room.

“I don’t want to go to the infirmary!” Harry said, “I need to tell you what I saw!”

“I know, Harry!” Hermione said forcefully, “I just said that to get us out of class. Let’s go to the Room of Requirement. Check your map that the coast is clear.”

Harry glanced at it and saw it was. They held onto Ron and apparated to the seventh floor corridor and were quickly in the Room of Requirement. Hermione called Winky to bring them refreshments and they quickly had Harry calmed down enough to tell the story.

“It sounds like Voldemort wants you to think he has Sirius in the Department of Mysteries.” Hermione summarized when he was finished, “What he doesn’t know is how many ways you have now to confirm exactly where Sirius is. I’d say you could grab your mirror, but I think we’d all be more settled if we actually saw Sirius. Why don’t we go visit?”

Harry nodded. They looked at Ron.

“Yeah, I want to go, too.” Ron said, “You’re not going to get away from me that easily!”

They grabbed Ron and in a flash of green and gold flame were suddenly in the entryway to Grimmauld Place.

“Young Master comes to visit unexpectedly.” Kreacher said appearing in front of them, “Master Black will be pleased.”

Hermione knelt in front of the ragged looking House Elf.

“Kreacher, do you remember the locket you gave us to destroy?” she said gently.

“Master Regulus’ locket?” Kreacher asked hopefully, “The locket he ordered Kreacher to destroy?”

“Yes.” Hermione said, pulling out the shattered locket, “This is all that remains.”

Kreacher took it reverently in his hands, tears dripping down his face.

“My orders have been fulfilled.” He said, his voice broken, “Master Regulus’ last orders to Kreacher have been done.”

“Yes, Kreacher, you completed your orders.” Hermione said.

Kreacher snapped his fingers and the locket was in one piece, but the cracks where it had shattered were very obvious, left by the House Elf purposefully. He hung the locket over his neck and stood straighter.

“I will tell Master you are here.” Kreacher said and popped away.

Moments later, they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Sirius quickly came into view in one of his signature dressing gowns.

“Hey, pup, I didn’t know you were coming today, or I would have had food ready.” Sirius said, surprised, “Aren’t you supposed to be in school? I thought Easter holiday wasn’t for a few days yet.”

Harry sank to a sitting position on a couch. The relief on his face was enormous, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to speak right away.

“Pup, you’re scaring me. Why do you look like you saw a ghost?” Sirius asked, alarmed.

Harry finally got out the story about the visions that he’d seen through his shields, watching to see if they brought him any new information. He told of the visions that morning that were the most extensive and realistic so far. Even though he’d had his shields between him and the sending, they carried such an emotional weight that he hadn’t been able to completely discount them. He couldn’t imagine how irrational he would have been had he not had occlumency barriers between him and the sending.

“I thought you were captured!” Harry almost sobbed.

“I’m fine, pup.” Sirius said with a smile, “It would take a lot to capture this old dog.”

The two hugged.

“So we know you’re safe, but what does it mean?” Hermione asked.

“He wanted me there.” Harry said, putting the pieces together, “He knew I’d try to rescue Sirius. He could have used you as the bait, but he knows you’re at Hogwarts with me, so that would be no good. He knew I wouldn’t be able to floo you, Sirius, because Umbridge has the floo system locked down. He could have forced me to come to try to rescue you.”

Hermione nodded. Harry’s conclusion made sense.

“Let me call the order together.” Sirius said, “We’ll decide what to do. Why don’t you go back to school, keep doing whatever you would have done. Try to look anxious and worried, but just keep going to class until we figure out how to use this information.”

“Ok,” Harry said, “let me leave my memory of the vision with you, though. You can show it to the order in case they need to know what he sent.”

Sirius agreed with Harry’s addition. They captured the memory in a crystal vial and carefully capped it. Harry, Hermione, and Ron returned to the Room of Requirement while Sirius summoned the Order of the Phoenix.

The three went to Potions but found a note from Professor Snape saying Potions was cancelled, likely because he had received the summons to Grimmauld place. They grabbed Neville and returned to the Room of Requirement to talk about the vision.

“So, Harry, what are we going to do?” Neville asked excitedly.

“What do you mean, what are we going to do?” Harry answered, confused.

“Dumbledore’s Army!” Neville replied, “What are we going to do?”

Harry looked shocked. “Nothing, Neville! We didn’t train just so I could get us all killed doing something stupid! The point was to replace the training Umbridge was denying us.”

“I thought it was more than that.” Neville said, disappointed, “We’ve learned so much. I thought we’d be able to do something useful.”

Harry sighed. He didn’t disagree with Neville, but since the encounter in Diagon Alley, he didn’t want to get any of his friends hurt.

“Nev, if I hadn’t been able to talk to Sirius…” Harry said, “if I thought he was really captured and there was no way I could alert the Order, then I would have asked you to go with me to rescue him. He’s not in danger, though, and I was able to alert the Order of the Phoenix. They’ll take care of it.”

“Ok, Harry.” Neville said, “If you’d called, I would have been there.”

“I know you would have been.” Harry replied, thumping Neville’s back, “You always have been.”

They ate lunch after filling Luna and Ginny in. Harry strove to look as anxious as he knew he would have felt if he’d seen the vision without the benefit of his shields and without the ability to check on Sirius. He wasn’t sure he could ever duplicate the level of terror he would have felt in that circumstance, though.

After lunch, he and Hermione went to Ancient Runes while Ron went to Divination. They rejoined at Defense against the Dark Arts. They received their most recent essays back. Harry was surprised at the rage he felt over the bond. He looked at Hermione’s essay and saw a ‘P’, which unfortunately stood for ‘Poor’. He patted her hand and she gave him a look that he thought might have made Voldemort quake in terror.

“Not now.” Harry whispered, “We can deal with her later.”

Hermione nodded, her eyes shining but with no tears. Harry feared for Umbridge’s life if the toad-woman continued along this dangerous path. ‘Headmistress’ Umbridge assigned them a foot on the chapter they were covering in Defensive Magical Theory. She didn’t even assign essays on actual topics, but rather on chapters in the horrid book she’d selected.

After they were released, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville all hurried to the Room of Requirement, where they met Ginny and Luna. They all flame traveled to Grimmauld Place, to check with Sirius what the Order had decided.

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was chaos. Members were rushing around. The students were quickly seen and sent into the kitchen, where Sirius and Albus were talking.

“Ah, Harry my boy!” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, “So good to see you again!”

“It’s good to see you, too, Headmaster.” Harry said, smiling.

“I had heard I was deposed from that position?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes still twinkling.

“Not to those of us who know better.” Harry said.

“The castle doesn’t even let her in the Headmaster’s Office.” Hermione offered, “Hogwarts knows who her Headmaster is.”

“She does indeed.” Albus said, “Now we’ve been discussing what to do about your vision, Harry. Professor Snape provided us some information after he was summoned to a meeting with Voldemort. It turns out that this is indeed a plot to have you access the prophecy. I have decided that it is time to try to turn the tables on Tom Riddle. You are ready and this is a unique opportunity to strike.”

Harry grinned a feral grin, “Just tell me where, sir.”

“He thinks you’ll go and try to save your Godfather. Severus has convinced him that not knowing how else to get there, you’ve taken Thestrals to fly to the Ministry. I don’t know how Tom believes that makes any sense, given it would leave your Godfather under torture for hours, but sometimes I think splitting his soul drove Riddle mad. I have had Hagrid send a number of thestrals to the Ministry to cover this story.”

Harry nodded. There’s no way he would have taken such a slow method of travel when his Godfather’s life was at stake.

“So Riddle’s not expecting you for some hours.” Dumbledore continued, “Answer me with the first thought that crosses your mind…if you hadn’t been able to tell any adults, who would have gone with you?”

Harry just gestured at his friends that were already with him.

Dumbledore nodded. “That is what I thought. So we’ll send you six in, as if Harry was reacting to the vision. Go; do whatever it is you would have done. Meanwhile, the Order will be prepared to close the trap. I will alert the aurors once it is too late for any of Voldemort’s agents to give the trap away.”

Harry looked around at his friends. They all looked nervous, but ready.

“Take these.” Dumbledore said, giving each of them a blown glass sphere, “They are each identical to the one in the Department of Mysteries. Destroy that one at your first opportunity, but without being seen. Then you can use these to confuse the Death Eaters. If they truly want the prophecy as much as it seems they do, they may hold back so long as you have these.”

Dumbledore took a length of rope and touched it with his wand, “Portus.”

“Take this. It will take you to an alleyway. In the alleyway is a phone box. Dial 6-2-4-4-2.”

“Wait, that’s insane.” Hermione said, “How would Harry have known to do any of that?”

“I really have no idea.” Dumbledore said, “Perhaps he assumed Ronald would know, since Arthur works at the Ministry, but I am afraid it is another sign of Riddle’s mental instability.”

Harry and Hermione gave each other a look, then just shook their heads. There was no explaining Tom Riddle, although his fractured soul was the best explanation so far.

“Remember, your mission is to stay safe.” Dumbledore said, “If you see Nagini, destroy her. If you see Voldemort, but have not destroyed the snake, I am unable to tell you whether to attack him or not. If you killed him, he would come back. It might give us time, besides being demoralizing for the Death Eaters. However, when he comes back we might be surprised by how or where.”

“What if we were able to capture him?” Harry asked, thinking of a conversation he and Sirius had one night back on the island.

“I doubt anyone would be able to capture Voldemort, but if you are able, then do so.” Dumbledore said, “Remember we will be there. Just hold on while we position our forces. The surprise will be total.”

“Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment — that which they cannot anticipate.” Ron said, clearly quoting someone else.

“Exactly, Ronald.” Dumbledore said, “Remember, what we have today is surprise. Voldemort does not know your new capabilities, but I do not doubt he has concerns after hearing Bellatrix’s report of your confrontation in Diagon Alley. This will be the last chance you have to attack with total surprise. Use it well.”

Harry slowly nodded. He gave one last look at his friends.

“Once upon a time, I would have encouraged you to let me go alone.” He started. His friends faces quickly settled into argumentative looks, but Harry’s look quelled them. “That was before I learned what I know now: that without my friends, I don’t stand a chance against Voldemort. You’re the strongest, the bravest, the best friends anyone could ever have. Please, stay safe.”

They smiled at him. The looks on their faces reflected a readiness to follow Harry wherever he went, even unto the gates of Hell.

“Wands out!” Harry said. Six wands flashed into hands. Harry touched the portkey with the Elder Wand and they disappeared.

They reappeared in an alleyway. There was a garbage bin, full of rotten refuse. Harry felt some magical creatures near it and could see the refuse being stirred, but couldn’t see what was doing it.

“Thestrals.” Luna said dreamily, “They’re there.”

“Can you guide us around them?” Harry asked, “I don’t fancy getting kicked, but I see the phone booth Dumbledore mentioned, I think.”

“Yeah, that’s it Mate.” Ron said, “I’ve come this way with my Dad before.”

They edged past the invisible flying horses and entered the phone booth. All six of them crammed into the phone booth was interesting. Harry was wedged against a rounded bum. He hoped it was Hermione’s, but Luna giggled and he wondered.

“Whoever’s closest needs to dial.” He said.

“What was the number?” Ginny asked.

“Six-two-four-four-two.” Hermione said.

A cool female voice sounded through the box, saying “Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”

Harry thought about it. He was tempted to say they were there to kick Voldemort’s arse, but he wasn’t sure whether Riddle had access to the system. Sticking to the story was safer.

“Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood…we’re all here to rescue somebody!”

“Thank you.” Said the voice, “Visitors please take the visitor badges and attach them to the front of your robes.”

Ginny, closest to the telephone, passed out a half dozen visitor badges. Harry glanced at his. It said, ‘Harry Potter, Rescue Mission’. He pinned it to his school robes.

“Visitors, you are required to report to the security desk to have your wands examined. Have a nice visit!”

The glass box sank into the ground. They were immersed in complete darkness until a thin sliver of golden light shone into the box from the bottom. Harry knelt, looking around to see if there would be an ambush as they came into the Ministry. Thankfully, the atrium was empty. As the box came to a stop, they spilled out. Had there been an ambush, it would have been embarrassing.

They crept around the security desk. Harry was sure the lack of any guard was a bad omen.

“Ron, do you know where we’re going?” Harry whispered.

“No, I’ve never been to the Department of Mysteries. Don’t you know?” Ron asked.

“No, the visions never started this far out.” Harry whispered back.

Luna said, “Here it is. The guard’s desk has a guide. Department of Mysteries, ninth floor…”

They continued to the lifts and took them down to the ninth floor. Harry could feel his heartbeat thudding in his ears. He let the rhythmic sound drop him deeper into his meditation, bringing out the Machine. This could be it. It could be the final confrontation. He could feel Hermione, cueing off his tension centering herself in her own way.

The door opened and the same recorded female voice said, “Welcome to the Department of Mysteries.” Ahead of them lay a long corridor, lit only by torches. Harry faced the plain door, the door from his visions. He submerged himself even further. Time seemed to slow. He approached the door and it slid open, revealing the circular room of his visions. They all entered. Neville, in the rear, swung the door shut. The torches burned a strange electric blue color. Somehow the room began rotating. Not the floor, but the walls, the blue torches turning into a single neon-ring of light. Eventually it stopped.

“What was that about?” Ron asked.

“I think it’s to keep us from knowing which door we came out of.” Ginny whispered.

“How are we going to get back out?” Neville asked.

“Well, that doesn’t matter right now.” Harry said, “We won’t need to go back out until…until we’ve faced what we’ve come here to do. Let’s pick a door. The next door is supposed to lead into a room that kind of glitters and has a ticking noise. I’ll know it when I see it.”

They opened the first door and saw tanks. Luna initially thought they were Aquavirius Maggots, but Hermione saw that they were giant brains. They returned to the circular room and Hermione marked the door to the wrong room with a flaming ‘X’.

The second room was rectangular, with stepped tiers going down to a sunken floor, like a stadium or theatre. In the middle was a dais with an archway in the center. The archway was ancient appearing, stone that was cracked and crumbling. It was hung with a black curtain or veil that fluttered despite the utter stillness of the air in the room. Harry felt drawn to the arch. He walked closer, getting the sense that something was watching from the other side. He thought he heard a faint whispering sound through the archway.

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“I hear them too.” Hermione said.

“Me, too.” Luna said, “There are people in there.”

Harry felt drawn to walk through the arch, but he resisted. Raising his occlumency shields even higher, he felt the urge subside.

“We should get away from here.” Harry said, “Whatever that arch is, I don’t think it would be good to walk through.”

They went back to the circular room and marked the door with a flaming ‘X’.

The next door was locked. Harry knew the door in his vision wasn’t locked and the Death Eaters wouldn’t have left the door locked, so they marked that room with an ‘X’. Finally, the next time around, the door opened to a room full of little glimmers of light and a ticking noise.

“This is it.” Harry said quietly, “Wands up.”

The room was filled with tables, desks, and shelves. Each flat surface was filled with clocks of all sizes, from watches to giant grandfather clocks. The diamond-like glimmering was coming from a large bell shaped glass at the far end of the room. They walked towards it. Inside the bell jar was a tiny brightly colored egg. It rose in the jar and cracked open, releasing a hummingbird. As the bird reached the top of the jar, it was caught in an air current that pushed it down. As it went down, it seemed to reverse, feathers growing wet and egg reforming around it.

“Oooh.” Ginny said, watching.

“It’s like time recycles inside.” Hermione wondered.

“Let’s keep going.” Harry said.

“You dawdled long enough by that old arch!” Ginny protested, but let herself be led out.

“This is it.” Harry said, looking around at the warehouse like room with endless shelves stretching to the barely glimpsed ceiling. It was like a library. The shelves were covered in dust, as were the glass spheres. Silently they moved to the right, following the numbers.

“Ninety-seven.” Hermione whispered.

They crept along, sight limited in the dim room. Harry and Hermione could see auras of magic, sometimes quite powerful around the prophecies. They could sense others hiding just out of sight. They warned their friends to be ready. The tension was so high it could be cut with a knife. Harry wasn’t sure what would trigger the Death Eaters to attack. He led his friends to the point where he’d seen Sirius in his dream.

“Where is he?” He asked, staying in character.

“Harry, I don’t think he’s here.” Hermione said.

“Have you seen this, though?” Ron asked, pointing at one of the spheres with a label he was examining, “It’s got your name on it.”

The label read, ‘S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter.

Harry nodded. He made brief movements with his chin and his friends rearranged themselves around him, blocking him from view. He quickly took the sphere and vanished it, substituting the sphere Dumbledore had given him.

“Very good, Potter.” Came a drawling voice that sounded almost familiar, “Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me.”

Harry looked around. Black robed figures were appearing out of nowhere, hemming them in. Lit wand tips were pointed at their hearts. There were twelve he could see now, but he sensed even more. Thinking of Ron’s quote, he decided to follow its guidance.

“Where’s Sirius.” Harry asked, his voice filled with desperation.

“Give it to me, Potter.” Lucius Malfoy drawled.

“Where’s Sirius!” Harry shouted.

Some of the Death Eaters laughed. A harsh female voice rang out, “The Dark Lord always knows!”

“Always.” Malfoy quietly agreed, “Now give the prophecy to me, Potter.”

“I want to know where Sirius is!” Harry shouted.

“I want to know where Sirius is!” the harsh female voice cackled in a sing-song, mocking him.

“You’ve got him.” Harry said.

“The little baby woke up fwightened and fought what he dweamed was twoo!” Bellatrix cackled.

Harry looked around at his friends. They were again rearranging themselves to put space between, to make it less likely two would get caught by the same spell and to give themselves room to dodge. They did it slowly, hesitantly, as if they were nervous, but Harry could see very little nervousness. They were ready. Long hours in the Room of Requirement had led to this. It was another practice session. Until the first unforgiveable was thrown or someone was killed, then Harry knew it would become very real. There was no training for that feeling.

“Don’t do anything…yet.” He said.

“Do you hear that?” Bellatrix mocked, “Little Potter is giving the other directions.”

“You don’t know him as I do.” Lucius said, “Potter is given to heroics. Come, boy. Give us the prophecy and nobody will be hurt.”

“I know you’ve got Sirius!” Harry cried out, “Let him go!”

“You need to learn the difference between dreams and reality, boy.” Lucius drawled, “Hand over the prophecy.”

“If I give this to you, you’ll just let us all go?” Harry asked, stalling for time as his friends improved their position.

“Of course.” Lucius lied smoothly.

“Accio, prophecy!” Bellatrix snapped.

Harry, anticipating such a move, blocked it, only remembering at the last second to say, “Protego!” to hide his true abilities.

“Oh, he knows how to play!” Bellatrix crooned, “Itty bitty baby Potter…very well then…”

“No!” Lucius shouted, trying to regain control from the insane Bellatrix.

Harry saw the moment when Lucius and Bellatrix distracted one another. He shouted, “Now!” and all six of them unleashed reductor curses against the shelves around them. Glass exploded outward and the shelves began to fall. The six friends burst apart, naturally dividing into three pairs. The Death Eaters, surprised, were slow to react. One managed to jump in front of Harry and Hermione, but Harry leapt up in a jumping front kick, smashing him to the ground. They burst down the aisle back the way they’d come. Another grabbed at Harry, but Hermione stunned him and they ran on. They ran through the door to the bell jar room and each put their back to one side of the room, waiting on their friends or the next Death Eater through the door, whichever came first.

The first through were a pair of Death Eaters. They ran through with no attention to where they were going. Harry and Hermione each cast a stunner, knocking both out. They quickly levitated them to a corner of the room. Ron, Luna, Neville, and Ginny ran through next. Ginny ducked below a red bolt, dodging the stunner one of the Death Eaters cast her way. Neville hit that one with stunner and the Death Eater fell backwards, looking like he’d hit his head on the bell jar. His head went right through it like it was soap bubble. Lying flat with just his head in the jar, the Death Eater started changing. His head shrunk, his hair first emerging from his previously bald pate and then disappearing as his head morphed into an infants. The Death Eater’s head cycled from adult to infant and back as he tried to stand. Eventually he got his feet underneath him and stood, but his head was frozen into an infant’s as he pulled it out of the bell jar. He stumbled around, swinging his arms wildly, but with the coordination of a baby, looking like he would fall to the ground at any time.

Luna stunned the other without difficulty.

“How many doors out did the arch room have?” Harry asked.

“None.” Hermione answered, her memory still the best among them.

“We make our stand there, then.” Harry said, “Hermione and I will cover. The rest of you head for the circular room, then to the arch room.”

They all agreed. Ron and Luna went first, quickly entering the circular room and were gone. Then Neville and Ginny went. Hermione was taking a quick look around the room they were in.

“Time turners!” she called out to Harry, “This room has a shelf full of time turners!”

“Grab one!” he replied, watching her and then darting his eyes to the door. He saw the Death Eaters coming and told her over the bond. They disillusioned themselves and waited.

The Death Eaters had reinforced themselves. Harry had felt more in the prophecy room than they’d seen. Lucius had sent in a dozen visible, thinking that would be enough to intimidate the teens, but he’d kept more back in reserve. How many more, Harry wasn’t sure, but the room soon filled up with at least twenty, but neither Lucius nor Bellatrix were with them. A quick mental trigger and Hermione cast a darkness spell on the room while Harry hit two of the Death Eaters with quick stunners.

The room lit up like a strobe as the Death Eaters started blindly firing off stunners. Harry and Hermione knew exactly where the other was and they both dropped to the floor, watching the chaos as their opponents were firing without being able to see. Harry fired a non-verbal stunner and rolled away before a Death Eater could target the flash his wand made. Hermione slid behind a desk and fired off two stunners, dropping two Death Eaters. Harry silently created cables out of the broken glass and wrapped two of the active Death Eaters. They could have broken the restraints, but as soon as they struggled, the jagged glass cut into them and they stopped.

More rushed into the room. Harry and Hermione met in the middle. He pulled his holly wand and she pulled her ebony wand. They almost seemed to run into each other, but Harry extended both wands over Hermione’s shoulders, firing off stunners from both. She dropped hers around his waist, doing the same. The Death Eaters that weren’t stunned had zeroed in on the center of the room where constant flashes were shooting from the teens wands. Harry dropped to his back, Hermione falling atop him. She tensed her abs and he straightened his legs, sending her flying over the heads of the oncoming attackers, firing all the time. Death Eater attacks flew over Harry and under Hermione, while they were caught in a vertical crossfire. Hermione let her momentum carry her to the other side of the room, where she rolled out of the door into the circular room, while Harry locked both doors into the time room, transfigured all the debris into poisonous vipers, and silently apparated to Hermione.

The circular room spun, the blue torches making the neon line around the circumference. The first door they chose led into the brain room. They almost closed the door, but realized there was already a firefight going on inside. They ran inside, then separated, Harry going left and Hermione going right. They again disillusioned themselves and as soon as they stopped moving, disappeared from view.

Harry had no idea there were this many Death Eaters in the building. His four friends were firing as fast as they could, between dodging and shielding. It was like a DA drill gone wild. Harry and Hermione got involved, disillusioned and away from the main fight, sniping into it like shooting fish in a barrel.

“Accio, brain!” Ron shouted. One of the giant brains burst from the tank trailing long streamers of what looked like thin ribbons. As soon as it was about halfway to him, Ron banished it at one of the Death Eaters. It hit him with a wet plop, the ribbons quickly winding themselves around his black robed body.

Luna guarded Ron, deflecting a handful of stunners shooting his way.

“Show them the spheres!” Harry yelled, shooting stunners at every Death Eater that moved. At least half of them were on the floor stunned already. A few of the waking ones were wasting time trying to revive their comrades, leaving them open to be stunned.

At Harry’s yell, they each pulled a matching sphere out of their robes with their left hands.

“How happy is your Dark Lord going to be if you destroy the prophecy?” Harry shouted, “Better watch where you’re aiming!”

There was a sudden cessation of spellfire as the Death Eaters contemplated being put under the Cruciatus Curse or worse if they were the one who destroyed the prophecy he’d been seeking all year. The lull allowed the students to mop up, stunning the last of the Death Eaters in the room.

“Let’s get to the arch room.” Harry said, glancing at Ron. Ron nodded. He agreed it would be the most defensible room they’d come across.

They ran into the circular room and closed the door. The room spun and they opened the door into the archway room. Harry didn’t like this room any more. Once he’d realized the voices were blocked by occlumency, he was disturbed. They seemed evil, like they wanted to tempt living beings into the arch.

The six students took up positions crouched in the deep shadows of the room, disillusioned. Where was Dumbledore? Where was the Order?

Harry was unhappily shocked when other doors around the circumference of the room opened and Death Eaters walked in. The doors were so carefully inset that barely a crack showed until they were open and in the darkness of the room, they hadn’t seen them. No matter how well they fought, Harry couldn’t see them fighting their way out of this room. There were just too many Death Eaters. Despite the hopelessness, he started animating Death Eaters robes into tentacles like the brains in the other room. He got three before he had to spin away to avoid a hail of spellfire. Hermione took his idea and ran with it, transfiguring several of the silver masks into a creature she’d seen in a Ridley Scott movie. He heard Ron groan as the spider-like creatures fastened themselves to Death Eater faces.

Dodging, shielding, and always casting stunner after stunner, Harry leapt from tier to tier. Once he landed on a stunned Death Eater and went down, but rolled and avoided any real injury while several spells flashed over his head.

Ginny was fast, but had drawn Bellatrix’s attention. While she focused on Bellatrix, she was soon hit by another Death Eater’s stunner and slumped, unconscious. Neville managed to stun her attacker and almost managed to innervate Ginny when one of the Death Eaters jumped off a higher tier and kicked him in the face, breaking his nose. Hermione engaged the Death Eater, stunning two others on her way to defend Neville.

“Stupefy!” the Death Eater who’d kicked Neville shouted. Hermione dodged out of the way, firing back her own stunning spell, which he shielded. He was clearly a better duelist than the faceless minions they’d been facing.

Harry moved towards that conflict. Lucius Malfoy stepped in front of him, holding out his left hand.

“Give me the prophecy, Potter. Can’t you see you have lost?”

Harry stunned him, barely noticing as Malfoy fell. He moved closer to his bondmate, but had to quickly dodge as Bellatrix attacked him from the side.

“Crucio!” she cried, cackling, “Let’s see how itty bitty Potter really plays!”

Harry dodged the sickly yellow bolt, firing a chain of stunning spells back at Bellatrix, which she shielded fluidly.

“You have some tricks, don’t you Potter!” she cackled before chaining together five reductor curses. Harry flicked his wand, sending them all flying across the room, one of them shooting right through a Death Eater that was drawing closer to injured Neville, bursting through him leaving behind only red ruin.

Harry saw Luna almost dancing her way between a crowd of Death Eaters, her wand singing as she cast every inventive hex imaginable. She never moved away from a certain point, though, and Harry noticed she was hovering over Ron, trying to protect him. Harry glanced back at Hermione. She silenced the Death Eater who’d kicked Neville. She smiled at Harry, proud of how she’d handled the Death Eater and preparing to engage the next one.

With a slash of his wand, the Death Eater who’d kicked Neville sent an arc of violet colored fire at Hermione. Harry tried to shield her, but it was too late. The fire passed right through her back.

“Oh.” Hermione said, almost casually, and fell. Harry watched her fall as if in slow motion, seeing every instant despite the fight going on around him. He watched as she bounced slightly after hitting the stone floor, every muscle slack, not breaking her fall at all. His mind quickly sought hers along the bond and there was only silence.

Hermione was down, her mind silent. Harry knew her death brought his own. He had only hours left no matter what else happened. In the millisecond between her fall and her first bounce, he resolved to make that time count. He buried himself so deeply in his occlumency, he planned never to come out. He let the Machine take over to an extent he’d never surrendered control before.

Harry’s magic was raging out against the room and then suddenly went still as an icy calm settled over him. He didn’t notice, but Bellatrix sent another Cruciatus Curse against him. His aura simply absorbed it. Bellatrix stopped, even her insanity recognizing danger.

Silence reined over the room for an instant, feeling like the seconds of calm while in the eye of a tornado. The Machine looked up at the Death Eater that had attacked Hermione. Somewhere in the fight his mask had been dislodged and Harry recognized Dolohov from a picture he’d seen in the Daily Prophet. The Prewett’s killer grinned at Harry silently. Harry looked back, equally silently. A wave of pure magic lashed out and Dolohov’s head exploded. Blood fountained from the headless body like sparks from a Roman candle. The flow slowed and the body toppled to the ground.

Harry met Bellatrix’s eyes and she began to run. Harry walked after her. He glanced around the room, seeing the handful of Death Eaters left standing, none of whom appeared to be part of Voldemort’s inner circle. He stopped for an instant, his magic pulsed, and suddenly there were five more fountains of blood. He started walking faster and broke into a run. Bellatrix would die.

“Harry!” Neville tried to shout, but Harry didn’t hear him. He was in a full run, chasing Bellatrix. The Machine knew time was limited. The only remaining objective was to kill as many Death Eaters as he could and hopefully find Voldemort before he died.

He ran through one of the doors they hadn’t tried and back into the brain room after Bellatrix. She flicked her wand and the tank of brains dumped itself over on Harry. He continued to run as the brains tried to latch onto him, but fell away, bursting into green flame. She reached the circular room ahead of him and slammed the door. Harry ran into it after her, but the room started to turn. Harry’s thought, ‘Open the door she ran through.’ apparently served as a command to the circular room and the door to the hall leading to the lifts opened. She ran into one and the doors managed to close before Harry could slide in behind her. He apparated above, beating her to the atrium. He stood by the fountain, waiting for Bellatrix to come into the atrium, waiting for her death.

The lift door opened and Bellatrix ran into the atrium. Harry hit her with a bludgeoning hex from the Elder Wand, knocking her across the slick marble floor.

She screamed. The spell knocked her off her feet, but she stood quickly back up.

“I am the Dark Lord’s favorite student, Potter!” Bellatrix called, abandoning her baby voice and sounding very serious indeed, “I know dark spells you could not fathom. Give me the prophecy and I might let you live.”

Harry chuckled with no real humor. He held up the glass sphere.

“You want this, Bellatrix?”

He banished it at her, smashing her in the face. It shattered, small bits of glass cutting her skin.

He felt pain surge through his scar, his occlumency shields growing even stronger in response. He was near! His destiny was near. Maybe he could fulfill it before he died.

“It’s broken, now, Bellatrix.” Harry said coldly, “Your master knows. He’s not going to be happy with you!”

“What do you mean?” Bellatrix asked, firing a Killing Curse at Harry. Harry sidestepped casually. The green jet knocked the head off the wizard in the fountain.

“Your master knows his Death Eaters were once again beaten by schoolchildren.” Harry said, “What do you think he’ll do to you?”

Bellatrix sobbed in fear, “That’s not true, that’s not true! Accio prophecy!”

“There’s nothing to summon.” Harry said.

“I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry!” Bellatrix sobbed.

“Save your breath.” Harry said, “He can’t hear you.”

“Can’t I?” came a hissing voice.

Harry turned and instantly summoned the golden head to block Voldemort’s Killing Curse. It exploded in fragments of gold, dissipating the powerful curse.

Bellatrix, having seen enough, disappeared into one of the floos and was gone in a burst of green fire.

If it could, the Machine would have rejoiced. However, there was no emotion from the Machine. He flicked the Elder Wand and a chain of SPEARs flew towards Voldemort. Voldemort made a negligent gesture, raising a silver shield. It blocked three of the powerful curses without apparent effort, ringing with a loud gong sound each time one bounced off, but the fourth made it glow with a rainbow of light pulsating along the wavering shield. The fifth shattered it, sending Voldemort sliding along the marble tile.

Red eyes narrowed to slits, shocked. Never had one of his shields fallen.

“Avada kedavra!” Voldemort shouted. Harry sidestepped calmly, waving the Elder Wand in a complicated pattern. The figures comprising the magical brethren came to life. The House Elf dived between Harry and Voldemort, absorbing the next Killing Curse.

“You think you can stand against me, boy?” Voldemort hissed, “You stand no chance.”

“I stood no chance when you killed my parents,” Harry said flatly, “but here I stand. I stood no chance in the graveyard, but here I stand.”

Voldemort held his bone white yew wand in a delicate overhand grip. He cast spell after spell at Harry nonverbally. Harry sensed that most were unforgiveables, but many were dark spells that he had never seen or read about before. Harry dodged, shielded, and summoned debris into the way, but Voldemort continued to pour spell fire at Harry. A yellow curse clipped his leg, barely hitting him, but the agony that washed over Harry was unfathomable. There could be no pain worse than this. The Dursleys had never managed to inflict even a portion of the pain Harry felt. He writhed on the tile floor, seeking to escape the pain somehow.

“Ah, Harry, you have never experienced the Cruciatus, have you?” Voldemort asked in an almost friendly manner, “I would like nothing more than to break your mind, to torture you to insanity…crucio!”

Voldemort reapplied the curse, striking him dead center this time. The pain was, if possible, worse. Deep inside Harry longed for death. The Machine just gathered willpower to fight back. The chance came when Voldemort ended it to taunt him again.

“Maybe now you understand the folly of opposing me, Harry Potter. Perhaps now you will beg to serve me?”

Harry gathered his energy and stabbed at Voldemort with the Elder Wand, putting an incredible amount of magical power behind the gesture. A tiny pea of darkness flew at Voldemort, who negligently flicked his wand, thinking to banish the attack. He was shocked when far from being banished, the tiny kernel of nothingness seemed to warp reality as it came closer. The tiles in the floor were ripped up in a line as the nugget flew at Voldemort and the support beams holding the entire floor up groaned. Voldemort panicked, moving his wand in an exceedingly complicated pattern. A rip appeared immediately in front of him, swallowing the tiny pea. As the two dimensional rifts came together, the entire room flexed, before some tiny portion of the energy released exploded outward. Both wizards were knocked back and all the glass above them shattered.

Voldemort gestured, his arms upraised, and the glass came together in a column, flying at Harry like the cables of glass he’d transfigured in the time room, only a hundred times greater in size. Harry quickly transfigured the glass into component elements, a fine silica dust blowing over him. He squinted as the dust covered him.

Harry pointed his wand at each torch in the room in turn. Each fired off a ball of fire at Voldemort, blue flames shooting at the skeletal wizard. Voldemort looked contemptuous, gathering all the fire into a single ball and converting it to Fiendfyre. The Fiendfyre shot at Harry, turning into a giant serpent of flame. Harry watched it come, waiting for the perfect time for the flame to cloak his actions. An instant before the flames hit, he flame traveled straight up, then again to appear behind Voldemort, swiveling into the same sweep to the knee he’d done to Dumbledore. Voldemort went down with a thud, surprise echoed throughout his body language. Harry lifted his leg again and axe kicked Voldemort in the face, drawing blood. Riddle gestured, flinging Harry away with a powerful banishing spell. Harry went with it, knowing how to react when his opponent gave him the gift of momentum.

Harry fired a chain of SPEARs, ignoring his motion as he rocketed towards one of the skeletal window frames that hid many of the Ministry’s offices. Voldemort had to pull himself to his feet and dodge, knowing his most powerful shield couldn’t take very many of these frighteningly powerful attacks. As he dodged, he stopped worrying about Harry, knowing it would take the boy time to pick his way out of the offices above. Harry flame traveled to the other side of the atrium, retaining every bit of his momentum. He launched another chain of SPEARs as Voldemort dodged the first set, the dark wizard not even seeing the second set until it was almost too late. However, there was a reason the evil wizard had been the most feared in recent history. He managed to shield and dodge, launching himself in the air to escape the destruction raining down from above. Voldemort streaked towards Harry, a black void appearing in his hand in the shape of a sword. Harry didn’t change his vector, continuing to fly towards Voldemort and what appeared to be certain destruction. Riddle swung the sword, a two dimensional plane of negative energy that would carve through any substance. Just as he had avoided the Fiendfyre earlier, Harry flame traveled before the dark sword struck. He’d used his own body to mask his real attack – the Fiendfyre had been left unattended and Harry had harnessed it, compressing it into a ball flying behind him. When he disappeared in flash of fire, Voldemort had a split second to see what was behind Harry.

Voldemort instantly turned the sword and expanded it with a gesture, swallowing the Fiendfyre whole. Both sword and fire disappeared with another explosion, knocking Voldemort to the ground.

He stood slowly, seeing Harry walking towards him. He smiled, deciding to use his final weapon. Harry felt his scar burst open. He felt pain beyond imagining, pain that made the incomprehensible pain from the Cruciatus feel like a minor ache. Surely this was death. Harry tried to maximize his occlumency shields, but nothing could stop this pain that seemed to come from inside. His eyes locked with the Voldemort’s red eyes, the two linked together by this unimaginable pain, there was no escape…

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Earlier…

“Harry!” Neville tried to shout, but Harry didn’t hear him, “I feel a pulse!”

Neville concentrated on the almost undetectable flutter against his finger as he held it to Hermione’s wrist. Ron was stunned, Ginny was stunned, Luna was slumped over Ron’s body alive and unharmed but exhausted.

Inside, Hermione began to come out of unconsciousness, but too slowly. She sensed her bondmate was in terrible danger. She couldn’t feel his mind well, the mental connection had obviously been interrupted while she was unconscious and now Harry’s occlumency shields were stronger than she’d ever felt them before. She somehow could tell she would heal very quickly, but quickly was not enough. She had to heal instantly.

Neville was startled as Hermione disappeared and a green, brown, and gold phoenix lay in her place. The phoenix looked decrepit, feathers falling out. The disgraceful looking phoenix burst into golden flames and suddenly there was chick sitting in a pile of ash. Neville went to gather the chick up, when it transformed back into a very conscious Hermione.

“Neville.” Hermione said, “Where’s Harry?”

“He chased Bellatrix through that door.” Neville said, his voice still muffled by his broken nose.

“Episkey.” Hermione said, fixing Neville’s nose, “Wake Ron and Ginny. Bring all of them to the atrium. I can tell that’s where Harry is. He needs us.”

Hermione concentrated on Harry, focused on her oath to him, and apparated to his side. She’d sacrificed her ability to flame travel for the moment, having forced herself through a burning day to heal her wounds. She would always be able to travel to Harry, though.

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Harry was in the midst of pain so great he thought he must be on fire, a fire that started in his scar and spread throughout the rest of his body. He felt like his scar had split open, like it was a trench the size of the split in the tile floor. He must surely die from this pain. He barely noticed as Dumbledore strode into the atrium.

The creature spoke with his voice, even through his agony he felt his jaw being moved by someone outside himself.

“Kill me now, Dumbledore.”

“Let him go, Tom.” Dumbledore said.

Dying, Harry screamed silently for release from this pain.

“I will never let him go, old man.” Voldemort said through Harry’s mouth, “If death is nothing, then kill him and have done with it.”

Harry didn’t hear Hermione pop into existence next to him, but he felt it as she grasped his head and turned it towards her, her hands caressing his scar where it had burst open and was bleeding. The full bond snapped back into existence with an almost audible crack. To auramancy, it looked like a spark had leaped from one highly charged surface to another and then remained, a twisting ribbon of glowing light connecting the two bondmates. Voldemort tried to turn Harry’s wand on Hermione, but Harry felt Riddle’s grip loosen as love for Hermione drove him out. Harry heard a scream, which he thought at first was his, but he realized as he came to his senses was Voldemort. The dark wizard staggered back as he was thrust forcibly out of Harry’s mind and body. Voldemort was screaming, writhing in pain and holding his head.

Green fire was reflected in what remained of the marble tiles as the floos all along one wall started disgorging wizards and witches into the atrium. Cornelius Fudge ran towards them, but stopped, staring. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Moody exited a lift with Ron, Luna, Neville, and Ginny. They all pointed their wands for a split second before Voldemort disappeared, but not before everyone had seen him.

“He was there!” a scarlet robed man with a ponytail yelled, running towards them and pointing unnecessarily where Voldemort had just disappeared, “I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear, it was You-Know-Who!”

“I know, I saw him, too.” Fudge said as he walked towards them in his pinstriped cloak over pajamas. “Merlin’s beard, how could it be? But it was, it was You-Know-Who.”

“If you proceed down into the Department of Mysteries.” Dumbledore said, “You will find a large number of his Death Eaters secured there awaiting your decision on what to do with them.”

“You!” Fudge exclaimed, “What are you… aurors, seize him!”

“Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men…and win again!” Dumbledore said in a thunderous voice, “But a few minutes ago you saw proof with your own eyes that I have been telling the truth. Voldemort is back. You must face facts and finally listen to reason.”

Harry stirred, although his entire body ached as if it had been burnt almost to ashes and somehow miraculously held together. Hermione cradled him in her arms and help him rise to a sitting and eventually standing position.

“Harry Potter again faced him and drove him off.” Dumbledore said, a look of pride on his face.

“Harry…Harry Potter?” Fudge asked, dumfounded, “What is he doing here? Faced You-Know-Who you say?”

“Yes, faced him.” Harry said, his voice hoarse and his vocal cords feeling as if he’d tried to scream himself to death, which he had, “Faced him and drove him off, thanks to Hermione.”

Hermione smiled at him, giving him support as he stood.

“Headmaster, will we see you back at school?” Harry asked.

“Yes, you will.” Dumbledore said with his eyes twinkling.

“See you there, then.” Harry said, before the two of them disappeared.

“Wait!” Fudge yelled after seeing the two disappear, “We need to question them. Where did they go?”

“Back to school.” Dumbledore said calmly, “They are students after all and exams are coming up. I can answer all your questions.”

Neither noticed as a small beetle settled onto Dumbledore’s robes, having been there for the whole thing.

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A/N: I had to end there. There are definitely still a lot of outstanding questions from this chapter, including the question of why it took the Order so long to get there. These questions will be answered to some extent in the next chapters, but this one was growing long.

The next few chapters should be very fast paced. I have a lot to do before this school year ends!

Please read and review. It really motivates me to keep working.

31. Phoenix Dormant

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter.

Chapter 31: Phoenix Dormant

April 5 late

Harry settled into the overstuffed chair he’d conjured in the Headmaster’s office. Hermione was snuggled into his side, half asleep. They’d only arrived minutes earlier, but she was exhausted. He was too and his muscles kept twitching from the after effects of the Cruciatus curse.

Dumbledore arrived via portkey from the Ministry with the rest of the Black Isle crew. He absentmindedly waved his wand, creating enough overstuffed chairs for the rest, already anticipating they’d want to share. He sank into the comfortable chair behind his desk with a sigh.

“I am feeling all of my years today.” Dumbledore sighed.

“You weren’t hurt, were you, sir?” Harry asked.

“No,” Dumbledore said, “just worn by tonight’s efforts and worry. I am very relieved everyone returned. Even though we were unable to end Voldemort’s reign of terror, that alone would have made it a successful night, let alone exposing many of the Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy. Exposing Voldemort’s return alone would have made it worthwhile.”

Harry nodded. The Ministry couldn’t deny it now, too many had seen.

“Headmaster, I have to ask,” Harry said carefully, “what took the Order so long to arrive? We expected you much sooner.”

“Harry, I should have anticipated it, but Voldemort surprised me.” Dumbledore said, “He prepared as if he knew there would be a reserve force coming in to help you. Seconds after your portkey arrived near the Ministry, a powerful anti-apparition, anti-portkey ward went up. Only Voldemort could have cast something so powerful. It took Bill Weasley and I over half an hour to break those wards. Meanwhile, the Death Eaters apparently have someone in the floo network, much as I expected, so that entry was blocked to us, as well. It was not open until the aurors floo’d in, which you saw.”

Harry nodded. He’s suspected something similar. The delay had almost cost lives, though, and would merit consideration in future planning.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Harry finally offered, “I wasn’t able to beat him.”

“Harry…” Dumbledore said, “please, no apologies are necessary. It is amazing that you could even face him. I had planned to be there and for it to be both of us. That you faced him alone and survived is a testament to your unique abilities.”

Harry nodded, not completely convinced.

“He has clearly been recruiting.” Dumbledore continued, “The Order of the Phoenix estimate for total numbers of Death Eaters was around fifty. They have never needed large numbers, since their attacks are random. Many of the captured or killed Death Eaters were unknown to us and many seemed foreign. Whatever caused him to recruit, I think we can only assume he will increase his efforts after this defeat. Now he knows you have progressed to be a real threat to him.”

Harry nodded sadly. He’d ruined their chances to beat Voldemort by complete surprise. He might never get the chance to face him in individual combat again.

“Do not blame yourself.” Albus said gently, “There were many unexpected obstacles. I am very pleased we still emerged victorious. I am going to escort you all to the infirmary. I want Madame Pomfrey to evaluate you. Get some sleep as soon as you can. Classes start early in the morning.”

They did as Dumbledore requested. Hermione was completely uninjured, her forced burning day regenerating her completely. She resolved to keep in mind how limited her phoenix abilities would be for a time. Luna had exhausted herself and only rest would resolve that. Hermione had fixed Neville’s nose and Poppy approved her work. Ron and Ginny had been stunned, but were otherwise ok. Harry had been hit by the Cruciatus curse and received several potions to help the neurological sequelae to the torture curse. He was surprised when Poppy let him return to his dorm room.

“You’re getting older, Mr. Potter.” Madame Pomfrey said with a smile, “I know Miss Granger will make sure you take your potions.”

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April 6

Harry knew it was going to be a rough day when he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. They’d all woken late, tired from the previous day and late night in the infirmary, so they were among the last down to breakfast. Apparently the Daily Prophet had already arrived, because as soon as Harry walked in there was complete silence. At least until Cedric stood up and began applauding. Cho quickly jumped up to join him. The rest of the DA soon followed and soon almost everybody except some of Slytherin house and notably Delores Umbridge at the Head Table were on their feet applauding Harry. He felt a confusing mixture of emotions. Where were all these people when the Daily Prophet had made him out to be an attention seeking liar? However, he felt good to be vindicated, even if it was almost a year late. The Quibbler article was a start and this was the culmination of the reversal of the destruction of his reputation.

Umbridge sat, again at her place as the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor, glaring at Harry. He just smirked back. With Dumbledore in the Headmaster’s seat and Minister Fudge trying desperately to hold onto a crumbling political career, Harry was confident she wouldn’t continue to be much of a problem at all. For once the curse on the DADA Professorship was a blessing.

The Twins handed him a copy of the Prophet as soon as he sat down, smiling at him.

“Weren’t famous enough, huh Harry?” Fred asked.

“What?” Harry asked, confused.

“Well, let’s just say our silent partner is not escaping his fame anytime soon.” George smirked.

Harry looked at the article. The largest picture was Harry flying towards an also airborne Voldemort, a fireball right behind him. The photo progressed until Voldemort tried to hit Harry with the jet black sword, Harry disappeared, and Voldemort got blasted to the ground by the explosion caused by dispelling the Fiendfyre. A smaller picture showed Hermione stroking Harry’s hair as Voldemort was forced to flee in the background. He quickly read the article, noting the byline was Rita Skeeter’s. Noting the ridiculous amount of detail, he realized what must have happened.

“She was there, wasn’t she?” Harry asked.

“Yes, she was.” Hermione said, “I agreed she could come with us, understanding how much risk there would be. She rode in on my robes and was there for the whole thing.”

“She’s braver than I thought.” Harry said.

“This is going to guarantee her career.” Hermione observed, “For once, not due to fabrication. I’m hoping the recognition might continue to steer her towards honest reporting, which she is uniquely suited for given her…advantages.”

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Easter Holidays gave them a chance to rest and recover. Harry visited with Sirius and Remus Friday and Saturday, then spent Sunday with the Grangers, even attending their church service.

“What do you think of the Daily Prophet’s coverage of your little confrontation, pup?” Sirius asked with a smirk.

Harry groaned.

“Well, the good thing is that the Fudge government probably isn’t going to last the month.” Harry said, “I think that’s why Hermione let Skeeter come with us. His fall should take Umbridge down with him, at least we’re hoping.”

“Don’t count on it, pup.” Sirius warned, “If she had an animagus form, it would probably be a cockroach.”

“Not a toad?” Harry asked, laughing.

“No, that’s her usual form.” Sirius joked back.

Sunday night they returned to school. Harry wondered what the dynamic was going to be with Umbridge in class. Her power had been seriously curtailed, but she was the vengeful type. It was only a question of how she was going to try to pay them back that was in question. When he’d brought up his concerns with Hermione, an evil looking smile had come across her face.

“Don’t worry about Toad-bitch.” Hermione said, uncharacteristically, “I’ve got a plan for her.”

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12 April

Career advice had been…interesting. He’d expressed that he might be interested in being an Auror or Hit Wizard. McGonagall had calmly told him what the academic requirements were and said he was on track to meet them, if he kept his grades as high as they’d been for the past two years. Umbridge had interrupted and said he had no chance of becoming an Auror given his record with the Ministry and his current DADA scores. McGonagall had ended up insisting that she would help him become an Auror if it took daily individual tutoring.

Later, Harry sat in Defense against the Dark Arts, wondering at how nothing felt like it had changed. A week ago he’d fought Voldemort to a draw and had defeated his minions. Now he was back in class learning Defense from a toad that probably couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag. Hermione had asked McGonagall to look through old school records and Umbridge had barely passed her Defense NEWT with an acceptable, never going on to do further study in the field, hardly a qualification for a Professor.

They received back their most recent essays and Harry was unsurprised to find he had received a ‘T’. He was again baffled to see that Hermione had received a ‘P’, though. Even Umbridge had to realize her work was really amazing.

“Everyone has received their most recent essays.” Umbridge said in her sickeningly sweet voice, “So please turn to the next chapter in your Slinkhard books and read.”

Hermione raised her hand as high as it would go. Umbridge acted like she would ignore her at first, but when nobody in class opened their books, watching Hermione instead, Delores finally called on her.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Professor Umbridge, there is no real feedback on my essays.” Hermione said coolly, “There is just a failing grade with no comments as to why.”

The class gasped, hearing that Hermione had received a poor grade. Even Lavender and Parvati looked angry.

“That’s because I thought the reasons were clear, Miss Granger.” Umbridge continued, “I know it’s difficult for those of you raised in the Muggle world to understand magic, but as you can read in your text and as I’ve clearly taught, there’s no reason for offensive spell casting, especially by children. Your essays are full of ever more creative ways to harm others and I think it hints at a derangement. Further, I have given you an excellent textbook, but you insist on writing your essays based on multiple extraneous sources. I don’t know why you haven’t figured out how to quote the insightful Wilbert Slinkhard.”

Harry had to muffle a snort. Hermione was actually being punished for using multiple sources. His fiancée was actually speechless for a few moments.

“I request that my essays be regarded by a qualified instructor.” Hermione finally retorted, “Professor Snape has applied for the Defense Professorship a number of times, I would be satisfied by him or Professor Flitwick, he was a dueling champion.”

“A half-breed Goblin.” Umbridge snorted under her breath, but clearly audible, then continued in a louder voice, “I am the Defense Professor, Miss Granger. I am afraid there is no appeal for the grades I have assigned you and which you have clearly earned.”

“So you continue to say I do not understand Defense against the Dark Arts?” Hermione asked.

“No, you clearly do not.” Umbridge stated.

“I say you lie.” Hermione said clearly.

There was a louder gasp around the room. Calling another Wizard a liar merited only one response – an apology or a challenge to a duel. This facet of Wizarding culture was one reason Harry’s portrayal in the Daily Prophet had been so slanderous.

Umbridge’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Hermione, who maintained eye contact.

“Miss Granger!” Umbridge finally snapped, “You will apologize and then report to Professor McGonagall for your punishment!”

“I will not apologize.” Hermione said clearly.

“You do not understand.” Umbridge said, “That might be said casually among your kind, but among Wizards and Witches, it is understood you may not say such things.”

“I understand exactly what I’m saying.” Hermione insisted, “The fact that you neither deny it nor offer the usual remedy suggests you don’t disagree.”

Umbridge was again silent, then managed to say, “It would be inappropriate for a staff member to duel with a student!”

“Perhaps not, Professor.” Hermione said, clearly having thought this through, “Perhaps we could conduct it as a demonstration for the entire school. I am willing to propose such a course to the Headmaster. Perhaps before dinner?”

Delores seemed to realize she’d been backed into a corner. If she refused to defend herself against Hermione’s accusation, her reputation would be destroyed. She seemed to gather herself, drawing herself up to emphasize each of her approximately five feet of height.

“Miss Granger, since you refuse to apologize for your accusation of dishonesty, I am forced to challenge you to a Witch’s duel. I will coordinate with the Staff. Unless you hear otherwise, I will expect to see you prior to dinner in the Great Halll, otherwise you will be without honor.”

Hermione nodded happily.

“I look forward to showing who really understands Defense, Professor.” Hermione said smiling.

The class went back to pretending to read, but the level of excitement was almost palpable. A fight between Umbridge and Granger!

Harry was somewhat stunned. He would have expected Hermione to have shared this kind of plan with him or to have sensed it across the bond. He could feel a sort of smug contentment from her at the moment.

<You didn’t think to tell me your plan?> Harry sent across the bond, the mental communication growing even easier since their animagus transformation. His feeling of hurt was transmitted.

<Admit it, you always thought it would be you confronting her.> Hermione sent back, not angrily but matter-of-factly.

<Well…yes.> Harry said, surprised it was even a question.

<Well, you’re going to learn, it does not always have to be you.> Hermione sent back, <Voldemort’s yours, I understand why, but you are not going to wrap me in bubble wrap to keep me safe. If you beat Umbridge, there would be a certain amount of bad feeling since she’s a woman. When I beat her, there won’t be any of that. Sure, I’m Muggleborn, which might cause some grumbling, but I’m going to bet she’s not too popular.>

Harry thought about it and Hermione was right, both about how it would look for him to duel Umbridge and how he tried to protect Hermione.

<I screwed up in the Ministry fight.> Hermione sent, her feeling of embarrassment and a strong feeling of determination to fix her mistake coming across the bond, <We’ve focused on you with the dueling training and I think that’s completely appropriate, but I have to do more than just absorb the skills passively from you. That works, but is not nearly as effective as actually drilling it until it’s second nature. I was treating that fight as more of a game. Most of the Death Eaters were nothing more than cannon fodder, but I let that fool me into treating all of them like that. Dolohov, Bellatrix, and Malfoy at least were better than that and I almost let that mistake kill both of us.>

<Anyone could have made that mistake.> Harry sent back, <That was really a first for you. Ron and I fought the troll, I fought the basilisk, I fought off the Dementors, I fought in the tournament… you haven’t had the opportunity to get into a lot of scrapes.>

<Exactly.> Hermione said, <So Umbridge is mine. Back off, Potter!>

Harry could easily ‘hear’ Hermione’s teasing tone, despite the fact that he knew she was serious, she didn’t intend to be mean to her bondmate, just wanted to make it very clear she was an equal partner and not only their resident bookworm researcher, but on the battlefield as well. He didn’t necessarily like it, but he understood it and wouldn’t have expected anything else from her.

They went directly to McGonagall, who floo’d Flitwick and Dumbledore. Dumbledore reported that Umbridge had already formally made the request to him and he’d approved the demonstration duel. Dinner was immediately after Defense Against the Dark Arts, so after insuring the coordination was in order, the couple hurried to the Great Hall.

“You don’t want to change into your dueling robes?” Harry asked.

“No.” Hermione said, “I’m going to fight in my Hogwarts uniform. I’ll show everyone how afraid I am of the toad.”

They reached the Great Hall and there was a constant murmuring from the students. The staff had already moved the tables against the walls, leaving a wide open space in the middle. McGonagall transfigured a raised dueling platform exactly like the one they’d used during Lockhart’s failed dueling club. Harry knew Hermione had learned since her fight with Bulstrode and expected to see a very different outcome.

Dumbledore himself erected dueling wards to prevent serious injuries and to protect the spectators. After he finished, he stood upon the raised platform and spoke.

“Welcome, Hogwarts students and staff! We have a rare treat today. One of our staff members, Professor Delores Umbridge, Defense against the Dark Arts, has challenged one of our Gryffindor Prefects, Miss Hermione Granger, to a Witch’s duel. This duel will be limited to include no unforgiveables, but otherwise spell choice is up to the combatants. Professor Flitwick, our Charms Professor and a prior All-Europe Dueling Champion, will officiate. Professor Flitwick?” Professor Dumbledore strode to the end of the platform, behind Umbridge. Flitwick took the platform behind Hermione. His squeaky voice rang through the entire room, courtesy of a sonorous spell.

“This is a duel of honor.” Flitwick began, “Miss Granger, you have said that Professor Umbridge has falsely stated that you do not understand Defense against the Dark Arts. Is this true?”

“It is, Professor.” Hermione said clearly, her voice unwavering.

“Will you apologize for what you’ve said?” Flitwick asked.

“No, sir.” Hermione said.

“Professor Umbridge, you have challenged Miss Granger to this duel to prove your honor. Do you still assert that when she called you a liar, she was wrong?”

“I do.” Umbridge said with a sneer for the half-Goblin.

“Very well, then.” Professor Flitwick said, “You may use any spell you care to aside from the Unforgiveables. The duel begins when the scarf hits the ground. Please salute.”

Delores Umbridge was wearing pink dueling robes and a crocheted pink hat. She looked imperious despite her short stature. She gave a tiny little flick of her wand in salute, clearly showing no respect for her Muggleborn opponent.

Hermione stood opposite her. Her trademark bushy brown hair was still essentially the same as it always had been, although she’d learned to control it to some extent it defied real taming as much as Harry’s did. She was now tall for a woman and athletic, clearly used to exerting her body. Her pale springtime complexion was the only sign she spent most of her time in the library. She wore an almost knee length pleated wool skirt which was completely appropriate to the school dress code, in keeping with her role as a Prefect, but on the elevated stage it was just inches away from exposing her to the audience on the floor, particularly those close to the platform, and showed bare skin between her knee high stockings and the hem. Her calves and thighs were well muscled from her magically enhanced physical training with Ashdown and from the large number of stairs at Hogwarts. She had on a white oxford under her jumper. The jumper downplayed rather than accentuated her breasts, but it was clear to the greedy eyes of the teenage boys in the audience that they were of a size proportionate to her frame and firm. She took a second to loosen her Gryffindor red and gold tie and unbutton the top button of the shirt, but that was her only allowance to what she was about to do. She stretched her neck one way and then the other, a steely gaze settling over her features, looking not unlike Harry when he let the Machine take over. She gave a very crisp and respectful salute to Umbridge, showing respect for the protocols of honor if nothing else.

Flitwick levitated a silk scarf with the Hogwarts badge dyed into it. He released his spell and the scarf floated lazily to the platform. The instant it hit, Umbridge attacked.

“Stupefy!” she called out, making an exaggerated wand movement like a schoolgirl just learning the spell would.

Hermione calmly watched the red bolt approach her, before flicking out a non-verbal shield, sending the stunner flashing into the evening sky shown on the ceiling. The corner of her mouth curled upward in contempt and she put her left hand on her cocked hip, tapping her foot impatiently, her body language clearly saying, ‘Is that all you’ve got?’

“Reducto!” Umbridge called. Hermione somehow created a portal that simply swallowed this attack, not wanting to risk damage to the legendary Great Hall ceiling, even though the dueling wards should prevent any.

“Confringo!” she yelled, waiting to watch it parried, before attacking again.

“Diffindo!”

“Percutio!” Umbridge yelled, frustrated. Hermione laughed that not only did she use the incantation, a horribly inefficient wand movement, but she used one of the longer incantations for the piercing hex instead of their preferred ‘foro’.

Hermione calmly defended against all her attacks. Then she spoke in a calm but carrying voice.

“You have all seen here exactly how NOT to duel.” Hermione said, her tone a mix between her own lecturing tone and Harry’s DA voice, “Professor Umbridge has used individual spells with long gaps between, giving me ages to respond. She used verbal incantations, letting me know exactly what was coming. Her wand movements were so large I have to assume they represent a bad habit picked up from being a teacher and using motions students can follow.”

Hermione quickly whipped her wand through a string of five stinging hexes, casting non-verbally. Umbridge was struck by each, not even managing a shield in time, having apparently waited for an incantation before reacting. The professor let out painful exclamations with each.

“Ow, ow, ow!” she shouted, wrapping her left arm over her face and turning away, only to receive the final, most powerful stinging hex in her plump rear end.

Hermione shook her head. “This is more appropriate, I cast several offensive spells together, making them more difficult to defend against, although apparently she didn’t even try. If I wanted to end this quickly, the moment when she obscured her own vision would have been a perfect opportunity, but I don’t want to interrupt my lecture.”

Umbridge was rapidly turning an ugly shade of puce.

“Bombarda!” she shouted. The spell glanced off a reflecting shield Hermione raised and directly back at her. Umbridge fell to her knees and ducked underneath her own spell, it missing her by centimeters. The crowd cringed, afraid they were going to see the woman turned into mince.

“Chaining spells is clearly superior.” Hermione lectured, while simultaneously casting a constant chain of stinging hexes, “If you practice enough and have enough magical power, you can keep it up almost indefinitely, especially with weaker spells.”

Umbridge danced around her end of the stage, swatting at the nasty little hexes. Her face began to grow bumpy where she was hit and her body was likely much worse, bearing the brunt of Hermione’s attacks.

“It is unclear, but the way she’s moving suggests she may be trying to dodge my attacks.” Hermione observed dispassionately, “If so, this is usually a good option for defense, but must be practiced to be useful. You can see that I can do this all day.”

Delores’ dancing away from the painful little stings was becoming less and less animated, eventually becoming little more than twitching. McGonagall covered her face, trying to hide her mirth at how thoroughly Hermione was taking Umbridge apart.

“The bludgeoning hex is another good one for the beginning duelist.” Hermione stated, “It’s offensive, but not lethal. At least not at the power levels most can cast it.”

She suited action to her words, hitting the pink-robed woman in the gut with an intermediate powered bludgeoning hex. Umbridge sank to her knees, dry heaving.

“Oh, get up Professor.” Hermione said impatiently, “Do you see now why practical defense is important, particularly when you ascribe to Pureblood customs? Even for those of you who will never confront Voldemort, you should at least know how to defend yourselves.”

Umbridge dragged herself to her feet.

“Now, one of Professor Umbridge’s reasons for grading me poorly is that I was too ‘creative’.” Hermione continued, “Creative spell choices is helpful, particularly against an experienced opponent. You may surprise him or her. I like using medical texts for suggestions. Nauseo!”

The sickly green colored spell was a very different color than the Killing Curse. It was disgusting to look at, like a cross between split pea soup, vomit, and baby poop. It hit Umbridge and her lumpy reddened face seemed to take on a similar green tinge and she repeated her actions from earlier, dry heaving on the platform.

“Fluxio!” Hermione cast and Umbridge looked even a sicker shade of green, holding her belly and crossing her legs. Everyone could hear the grumbles from her gut.

“You can see that even minor physiological attacks can be quite incapacitating.” Hermione said, “I don’t want this to go any further for our sakes, but you can imagine.” She flicked her wand in a non-verbal finite and Umbridge’s illness abated.

“Now I have a weakness for truly creative spells.” Hermione said happily, “I could turn my opponent inside out, which tends to be quite uncomfortable…”. She made a threatening gesture with her wand and Umbridge flinched, almost crying in fear, “Muggle science actually offers a lot of creative options, which Purebloods can’t even understand, let alone defend against. I’ve used gravity alterations and like the result. I could transfigure a femtogram of her pituitary into antimatter and her skull would contain the resulting very explosive reaction fairly effectively.” Hermione tapped her wand into her left hand contemplatively, cocking her head as if to examine the pathetic pink-robed professor more thoroughly.

“This is too much pathos for my personal preference, however.” Hermione said, “Revealing a bigot’s ignorance is amusing in small quantities, but I’m growing embarrassed now. The traditional way of ending a duel is with a stunning spell, an incarcerating spell, a body bind, or a disarming jinx. As a tribute to my wonderful fiancée, I will demonstrate the latter.”

Hermione gave a quick non-verbal expelliarmus and Umbridge’s wand clattered to the platform. The room exploded in applause as the students clapped for the complete humiliation of the usurping former-Headmistress. Hermione smiled at her fellow students and especially at Professor McGonagall, who despised the toad. She gave a little bow and McGonagall gave a small salute.

Meanwhile Umbridge crawled to her wand. “Avada kedavra!”

The green bolt streaked upward from Umbridge laying on the floor of the platform at Hermione. Hermione shoulder rolled out of the way, giving her male admirers a greatly appreciated finale. The Killing Curse, on an upward vector, hit the ceiling with a splash of energy against the dueling wards as they absorbed the power. Hermione rolled her wand in a complicated figure. Umbridge’s body twisted and pulled, painfully it appeared as she cried out. Seconds later, a giant grey-green toad sat where Umbridge had been.

“Another lesson…” Hermione said, standing shakily, quickly helped up by her fiancée as he leapt to the platform, “that I learned, almost fatally, in the Ministry. Always pay attention until you’re sure your enemy is helpless.”

From stunned silence at the Unforgiveable, the crowd once again burst into applause. Hermione smiled and walked to the stair to the Great Hall floor. Dumbledore once more took his place.

“Miss Granger once more demonstrates her academic credentials in a very convincing way.” Dumbledore said, “I’m afraid Defense against the Dark Arts will need a new instructor, as I suspect Madame Umbridge will be unable to teach from Azkaban. You will be informed as to the new schedule. Now, you’re probably all hungry after that excellent demonstration, so with no delay, please enjoy your dinner.” With a gesture from Dumbledore, all the tables were in their usual places, the students moved effortlessly with them. He summoned a pair of House Elves, who disappeared with Umbridge still in toad form.

Harry leaned over and whispered to Hermione, “I thought you were a goner! You’ve got to quit turning your back!”

Hermione looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears. “I didn’t this time, Harry! Honestly! I wanted her to think I had stopped paying attention, but I was still very aware. I suspected she might do this. Ron and I agreed that taunting her until she lost all control and used an Unforgiveable would be the best way to remove her from the picture all together. She is simply too dangerous to leave at our back. She could corrupt any government she was a part of and she probably knows were enough skeletons are buried to avoid punishment for anything other than an Unforgiveable.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

The next several weeks were a blur. Hermione was busy every hour of every day, but seemed happy. She was revising for OWLs almost constantly. Harry had been right… she only increased her pace as the tests got closer, even though they were over a month away. She sent letters back and forth with her mother frequently, too, making last minute decisions regarding the wedding. She’d had to floo to Diagon Alley several times for further fittings on the wedding dress at Madame Malkin’s. Neville continued to work on the flowers with Professor Sprout, while Winky reviewed plans with Hermione on how to arrange them once they were grown. She discussed music with him, trying to make sure his favorites were played. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d never been to a wedding before, but steered her to picking all of her favorites. Hermione had finally figured out to use a pensieve to let Filius hear the Muggle songs she wanted played during the wedding, so he could charm the Great Hall to play them during the ceremony. The little Professor had look intrigued listening to the songs.

“Is that it?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Hermione had asked in return.

“Is that all there is to the songs?” Filius had asked, “It sounds like they’ve limited the number of instruments playing.”

“No, that’s a full orchestra.” Hermione had responded.

“What’s a full orchestra?” Filius had asked in response.

“Oh, this is frustrating.” Hermione had sighed, “Maybe you can give me an example of a song that doesn’t have a limited number of instruments playing?”

Filius had nodded and charmed the room to play a similar type of song, but without the limitation of actually having to have performers playing and the limitless nature of magic, there were so many complex elements to the song with complicated underlying harmonies only available with magic.

“Wait, so why haven’t we ever heard anything like this before!” Hermione protested, “Why not at the Yule Ball? The Weird Sisters were good, but they didn’t sound anything like this.”

“Well, a few reasons…” Flitwick said, “the Weird Sisters actually play, so they couldn’t add in all the extra elements. Besides, this complex music is only possible for Charms Masters. It takes too much skill for just anyone to cast the spells required. We typically reserve it for weddings. It keeps it special.”

Hermione nodded, her eyes going unfocused.

“It’s really beautiful.” She said.

“Thank you.” Filius responded, “Music has always been an interest of mine. It’s one of the things that led me to Charms as a field. I’m actually intrigued by the Muggle music. I think it could be adapted and would be really unique, since nobody there will have heard it that way before.”

Hermione smiled, “That would be really wonderful, Professor Flitwick.”

“Then it will be worthwhile, Miss Granger.” Filius said, smiling at the bushy haired girl who was one of the favorite students of many of the professors, given her true love of learning.

Harry wasn’t as busy as Hermione. She pulled him into her revising schedule, but he didn’t have nearly as much to do with the wedding. He continued to duel regularly with Dumbledore, refining what he’d learned and adding as much more as he could. He also continued to duel with Alex, which was enjoyable for both men. During the dueling portion of the DA, he started challenging the members, striving to duel each of them so he could give them focused feedback.

Having seen how busy Hermione was, he decided he wanted to plan something nice for her. He practiced working with Room of Requirement to get it to do exactly what he wanted it to. He talked to John Ashdown next time he saw him and asked for special instruction.

“John, I need to learn something and I thought you might know who could teach me.” Harry said one weekend while Hermione was with her parents.

“What’s that, Harry?” John asked, “We’ve gotten your own conditioning to about the maximum we can push it, given that you’re optimized for speed. Need me to work with you on Quidditch?”

“No, I feel good there.” Harry said, surprisingly embarrassed to just come out and ask what he wanted to learn, “The athletes you work with, do they get rub downs or something like that?”

“Sure, Harry!” John said, “Need one? Sore?”

“No, not me.” Harry said hurriedly, “I want to learn how so I can give Hermione a massage. She’s so busy studying and preparing for the wedding, I want to do something nice for her.”

“Oh, no problem, Harry!” John said, “Do you have a table somewhere? Or I can transfigure one, I suppose.”

“I have the perfect room available.” Harry said.

He took John to the Room of Requirement, configured like he’d planned for Hermione’s surprise. There was a portion almost exactly like the Prefect’s Bath, but adjacent to it was a massage table.

“Great!” John said, “This will work perfectly. I’ll teach you the way I was taught.”

He pulled out what looked like a rubber racquetball. He quickly transfigured it into a life size mannequin with clear skin and muscle groups clearly visible through. John taught Harry the different muscle groups, then demonstrated how to manually relax them.

“Your ability with wandless magic should really help, Harry. If you focus it like this, you can warm the muscles. Like this, you can relax them even more. With magic, you can really make a massage very relaxing and healing for the recipient.”

Harry soaked up all that John could teach him.

“You’re a really good student, Harry.” John told him at the end, “I think you’ve learned all I can teach you in the quick version. If you want to do it for a living, let me know. You could be really exceptional.”

“Thanks, John.” Harry said with a grin, “Hermione will really appreciate it. Maybe I’ll spread my skills around the team, now that I’ve learned.”

“You’d be surprised how much it can improve healing.” John said on his way out.

Hermione returned to Hogwarts after a long weekend of dress fittings and wedding planning. She went to her room first, planning to find Harry afterwards. Propped up on her nightstand where she was sure to see it was a crisp white card with one line of writing on it in flowing script. Harry had been working hard to improve his really poor handwriting since it drove Hermione nuts and while he still used it as an excuse sometimes, it had gotten a lot better, especially when he tried. The card said:

“Follow the rose petals. Wear the cloak.”

Hermione noticed the card was charmed so only she would see it. She looked down and saw red rose petals on the floor leading out the door of the girl’s dorm. She knew they hadn’t been there a moment before and could see they were also charmed that nobody else would see them. Harry’s invisibility cloak sat carefully folded on her bed.

“Harry, what are you planning?” Hermione wondered to herself as she followed them.

Hermione first followed them down to the Great Hall. They led up to the Head Table. It was late and so there was nobody in the Great Hall. On the center of the table there was another crisp white card with careful handwriting.

“Our story really started on the train – but here’s where we were sorted together.”

Hermione’s mind went to the day they’d met, while she’d been searching for Trevor, Neville’s lost toad. She remembered the trip across the lake and how nervous she’d been during the sorting. She’d expected Ravenclaw, but being sorted into Gryffindor had put her with Ron and Harry, which had changed her life. A new line appeared on the card:

“Keep going.”

The rose petals led out of the Great Hall and to the first-floor girl’s lavatory. Hermione already knew where this was headed. She followed the rose petals inside. On the sink there was one of the familiar cards. In the mirror over the sink, the whole room was in view and her memories of that day were still as fresh as ever.

“Where our friendship really began. Keep going…”

Hermione followed the rose petals to the previously forbidden hallway on the third floor. She remembered when they’d found Fluffy. She followed the petals to the room that had the logic puzzle and found a small table with a crisp white card.

“The first time love was (almost) mentioned between us. Keep going…”

Hermione felt a warm glow in her heart. Harry was leading her along many of the special spots that had featured in their relationship. For someone who almost never talked about his feelings, this was a really dramatic romantic gesture. She followed the rose petals to the second floor girl’s lavatory. In the exact spot where she’d brewed polyjuice potion their second year she found another note.

“Another place you showed me how brilliant you are…and how far you’ll go for your friends. You were the cutest cat-girl ever. Keep going…”

Hermione blushed, embarrassed more by the memory of her error than Harry calling her cute, although that still could make her feel a bit warm, even this far into their relationship. She tried to guess where the next card would be. She followed the trail to the infirmary.

“I missed you for three weeks even though I sat by you ever chance I could get. I hope we’re never apart that long again. Keep going…”

She followed the rose petals and found a card. Sketched on the card was a broom.

“You worried for me even then and even when I didn’t appreciate it. Keep going…”

That card felt different. When she held it she realized it was a portkey. She tapped it with her wand and was on the grounds. A card sat on the ground. From there she could see where they’d been attacked by Dementors and Harry had driven them off.

“Our soul bond started here, but was really a continuation of something that started long before and that I hope keeps going…”

This card was also a portkey and took her to an empty classroom. She recognized the classroom where she’d practiced the summoning charm with Harry until they’d both almost fallen asleep.

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Keep going…”

The card carried her to a spot outside the castle. Her arrival triggered a spell and a small flurry of snow fell in a very limited area, reminding her of the snowball fight before the Yule Ball.

“Where I put my promise ring on your finger. Keep going…”

To the Great Hall again:

“Where we danced the night away. Keep going…”

This card portkeyed her to the very edge of the lake.

“You were and always will be what I would miss most. Keep going…”

She picked up the card and shuddered with a feeling of love so strong she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. The feeling of phoenix song was the only thing that could even come close to feeling the same. The card took her to a small stand of trees near Hogsmeade.

“Where we became engaged. I will always remember that day. Keep going…”

She followed this portkey to the Quidditch pitch.

“You did what Hogwarts a History says you shouldn’t be able to do, just to save me. Keep going…”

This card led her to the Dungeon classroom where they’d spent so much time dueling.

“Where you helped me prepare for my destiny. We practiced here and one other room. Keep going…”

She followed a new trail of rose petals to the seventh floor. In front of the door to the Room of Requirement was a card.

“Supposedly inside this room is whatever you most need, but I’ve discovered that can’t be the case, because right now I’m inside and you’re out here. Please, come inside.”

She opened the door into a dimly lit room with only candles for light. It was the perfect temperature inside, neither too hot nor too cold. She had a feeling it would warm up as she cooled down from her walk. There was a place to for her clothes and she could see Harry sitting in a filled tub that looked exactly like the Prefect’s Bath. She quickly undressed. The entire walk, although long, had been like a very romantic trip through her memories with Harry. There was no way he could have captured all of their memories. If she walked through every square inch of Hogwarts and set foot on every stone, she still thought she’d miss some place that carried a memory of him. She was unsurprised to realize she was already wet and her nipples were as hard as pebbles. Harry had managed to make the entire scavenger hunt like an extended bout of psychological foreplay.

She slipped into the warm water, just slightly warmer than seemed comfortable at first, but her body relaxed into it and she could feel every muscle in her body loosening. The scent was her favorite combination from the Prefect’s Bath. Harry had taken the trouble to mix it properly, which was no easy feat.

“You sweet man.” She said, slipping towards him.

“You liked it?” Harry asked, “I worried it was too long. I knew you would be tired.”

“Not too tired for that.” Hermione murmured, “Or anything else you have planned.”

“The rest of what I have planned is more relaxing.” Harry grinned. He offered her a crystal wine glass, filled with a red wine. She rarely drank anything alcoholic, but her parents had allowed her some wine, particularly when they were traveling in France. As she took a sip, she realized this was something really special.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Sirius helped me get it. He said if I wanted to impress you, it was a good choice. He said something like ‘La-feet Rothschild’.”

Hermione was incredibly well read and had a suspicion that this was a finer wine than her parents had probably ever indulged themselves in, but she let that go. Harry’s wealth didn’t mean much of anything to him and it was one of the things she loved about him.

She decided she would be more comfortable sitting on something other than the bench, so she climbed onto Harry’s lap and leaned back into him. He stroked her belly with one hand while he kissed her neck gently. She slowly sipped her wine and let the warmth of the water steal all the tension from her muscles. Harry’s hand wandered everywhere except where she most wanted it.

“Harry, touch me.” She whined quietly.

“I am touching you.” He grinned, “Almost everywhere possible, actually.”

“Not everywhere.” She complained.

“The goal is to relax you.” Harry said.

“That does relax me.” She replied lazily.

“Soak a little bit longer and have a bit more wine.” Harry said, “There’s more surprise for you.”

“More?” she purred.

She did as he said and right before she hit the stage where she’d soaked too long, Harry made a gesture. Another set of candles lit and she could see a high, narrow bed, draped with perfect white sheets. Quiet music had been playing in the background the entire time and it seemed to be originating from near the bed. It was still quiet, but perhaps just a bit more noticeable. Harry picked her up and wrapped her in a real Turkish cotton towel, which gently soaked all the water from her body. He placed her gently face down on the bed, then did something with his wand that made the bed adjust to her every curve. She felt supported all over, but with no pressure points anywhere.

“Oh, I really am going to fall asleep now.” Hermione murmured, “Why is the bed so narrow? You won’t fit on it with me.”

“It’s a massage table.” Harry said, “Relax and let me massage you.”

Harry poured some oil into his hand and gently rubbed it into her shoulders, just skimming her at first, just hard enough not to tickle. He slowly increased his pressure, his fingers seeming to feel every place there was tension and teasing it out. She felt his magic spreading out from his fingers, spreading warmth and seeming to massage her as well. He chased all the tension from her upper back, following her spine up to the base of her skull, removing all the tension from her neck. He gave her a lovely scalp massage, letting his fingers run through her long bushy brown locks and his fingernails gently scratch at her scalp. He rubbed her temples, then followed her neck back to her shoulders. He individually massaged each muscle in her arms until they felt like wet noodles. He went back to her shoulders, making sure none of the tension had returned, then followed her spine, pressing all the tightness out of the long straps of muscle to each side. He rubbed her lower back, providing enough pressure that her spine made a long crackling sound as each individual vertebrae popped against the others with no muscular tension to lock them in place. She felt boneless, like a snake. His hands continued down and he rubbed her gluteals, some of the largest muscles in the human body. His hands felt so sensual with the massage oil making every movement slide along her skin, never catching. She subtly moved her legs apart, hoping he would touch everywhere. While he wasn’t shy and didn’t avoid anything, he didn’t linger anywhere either. Harry massaged all the tension from her gluteals and then started down her thighs. She thought she might come as he fingers casually brushed her soaking wet sex, but he didn’t hesitate and continued down her thighs. He did the same thing he’d done in her arms, returning each muscle in her thighs to the softest, supplest state it could possibly achieve. His work on her calves felt like perfection. She never realized how much tension she held there, but as he removed it, she could feel it by the absence.

She realized she’d almost fallen asleep when he turned her onto her back. She wasn’t sure whether he used magic or just lifted her, but it was smooth and she barely jostled.

“Mmmm…” she purred, “That was nice.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, smiling down at her. He kissed her and she enjoyed this different sensual feeling of his lips and tongue caressing hers. He kissed his way across her jawline and she stretched it for him, so he could reach every bit. Harry kissed his way down her throat and she thought she’d lose it again when he captured a nipple in his mouth. She hadn’t imagined she could reach orgasm from that alone, but with all the foreplay, she was so close she almost did, until he left it and continued kissing his way down her abdomen.

Harry could feel how close he’d brought her with the massage and he had a decision to make. He wanted to keep teasing her, but he knew she couldn’t take much. Even just a brush of his lips against her clit might set her off. So he decided to take her over the top in a big way. He kissed his way between her legs, then moved his mouth away and let his warm breath play over her sopping wet sex. He teased her with the uncertainty of when he’d finally taste her. Then he buried his face in her while slamming his magic through her, licking her clit almost roughly. She had been expecting continued teasing and was balanced on the edge of orgasm when he pushed her roughly over. She screamed in one of the most powerful orgasms she’d ever had. He grabbed her ass and kept his tongue working on her while her hips lifted his upper body with the force of her thrusts. He kept pouring energy through her until she was almost glowing. Finally the spasms subsided and she sank to the bed.

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione gasped, “What did you do to me?”

“You liked it?” Harry asked almost shyly.

“All that touching, all of it oriented around me?” Hermione asked, “I loved it! Thank you.”

Harry cuddled against her until she came down from her massive series of orgasms. They were spooned on their sides, struggling to be close enough to fit on the narrow massage table. The room of requirement made sure it was just wide enough… in other words, exactly what they both wanted.

Hermione turned her head, looking over her shoulder at Harry. A seductive look was on her face. He’d never seen her so sexy, with her damp hair plastered to her skin in curls, her skin pink from the sex flush.

“Stand up, Harry.” Hermione cooed.

He did, not knowing what she intended. She lay on her back on the massage table, scooting until her head fell off the end. She let her neck relax and her head hang down, her hair almost brushing the ground. She smiled and beckoned Harry closer. Magically, the table was the exact right height to put Harry’s hips on the same level as the table.

“Harry,” Hermione said shyly but seductively, “I don’t want you to hold back. You know what I can handle because you can feel through the bond. I want you to take what you want. It’s so hot when you take me to my limit…I want that.”

Harry understood exactly what she was trying to express. The super controlled bookworm personality required her to always be in charge. “Bossy” was almost as much of a trademark of hers as “bushy”. Sometimes she wanted to let go of that.

She opened her mouth wide and ran her tongue across the head of his cock as he presented it to her. She pressed her breasts together, playing with them, keeping her hands anywhere but in his way, letting him know he was in charge. Once he’d pushed the head of his cock into her mouth, she reached around and grabbed his ass, feeling the muscles flex. It felt like he was fucking her, but since they were saving vaginal sex for after the wedding, she was offering the rest of her body.

He could feel when she couldn’t take any more and knowing what she wanted, he hovered right at that edge, making her feel like he might push past what she could handle, while knowing he never would. She felt safe and dangerous at the same time.

Meanwhile, he felt pleasure he barely could have imagined before. Her tongue was constantly moving, stroking the sensitive underside of his penis. Hermione’s mouth was so hot and wet. Her total surrender of all control was so incredibly arousing, as was the picture she presented, her body laid out in front of him like an offering while she let him take his pleasure in her mouth.

As she adjusted, she was able to take more and more of him. She quickly learned how to suppress her gag reflex, allowing him to push into her throat. She ran her hands over his ass and back, relishing the feel of the muscles tensing as they pushed his cock down her throat.

Harry watched her medium sized breasts bounce hard once with each thrust. Every sense was overloaded, his lips still tinged with her taste, his nose filled with her scent, his eyes awash in her gorgeous body, and his skin on fire with her touch. His magical senses were equally absorbed as she fed magic back into him through the bond. It entered her through his cock and flowed back into him through her hands, cycling through both of them until they glowed as if they were on fire.

He finally couldn’t hold it anymore and thrust himself as deeply as he could before he spilled himself down Hermione’s throat. She swallowed, not because she needed to, his seed deposited directly into her throat, but to massage him that much more. Finally he pulled back and she gasped, her mouth full of the taste of him and her nose full of the scent of the man she loved more than anything else in the world.

Suddenly the table was a large, very soft bed, and he fell into it with her and was asleep almost before gravity had fully claimed him.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Late April

Harry apparated to Grimmauld Place. Hermione was having a ‘hen’s night’ with her friends. Her mum had arranged it. They were starting with a spa day or something like that. He wondered how Luna and Ginny would adapt to the Muggle aspects. They’d do better than Ron, should he ever try.

Sirius had told him to come to Grimmauld and they’d hang out. Harry suspected he and his friends were receiving unprecedented privileges for Hogwarts students. Aside from the occasional Hogsmeade weekend, students weren’t normally allowed off the grounds, but here Hermione was having a spa day with her mum and friends while he was going to visit Sirius.

Kreacher heard Harry’s arrival, as quiet as it was, and popped into view.

“Young master, Master Black is in the library. He would have you meet him there.”

Kreacher was less decrepit than he used to be. He was wearing a clean pillow case with the Black crest embroidered on it. He held himself straighter and looked less crazed. The destruction of the locket had been very therapeutic for the little Elf.

Harry walked up to the library and opened the door. A wave of greetings rang out. It was more than just Sirius; Harry heard Ron’s voice clearly. Neville was quieter, but nobody would miss the tall boy. Remus was there, of course. Fred and George Weasley were also there. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan’s presence surprised Harry. He wouldn’t have expected them to know anything about Grimmauld Place. Obviously Sirius had something planned.

The library itself had been renovated. Sirius had installed a billiards table. The furniture was all leather and the wood was dark. It was like a cliché of a wealthy bachelor’s library and den. Harry was unsure how much space expansion charms figured into the architecture of Grimmauld place, but the room was not cramped in the least.

“Ah, Harry!” Sirius said, “Welcome to your Stag party! Stag…get it, Pronglet?”

“Ugh, Sirius, you’re terrible!” Harry laughed despite himself, “You really planned a party for me?”

“Of course I did!” Sirius said, “Well, actually it was Ron, technically. He borrowed your mirror and contacted me. Said he understood it was the responsibility of the Best Man to plan the Stag Party, but he hoped I’d give him a hand. So…here we are! Do you want something to drink? I’ve altered the house rules for the party. You can all have something to drink so long as you agree to spend the night here. No apparating, no flooing, understood?”

Harry and the rest of the students nodded. Harry glanced over at the Weasley Twins and noticed they were looking back and forth between him and Sirius suspiciously.

“Harry, did Sirius call you ‘Pronglet’?” Fred asked.

“Yeah, it’s his nickname for me.” Harry asked, “Based on my dad’s nickname, at least when he’s not calling me ‘pup’. Why do you ask?”

George looked at him shrewdly. “What was your dad’s nickname, Harry?”

“Prongs…why?” Harry asked.

“Your dad was Prongs?” they both asked together, “Why have you never told us this?!”

Harry looked at them confused, then remembered the Marauder’s Map and where he’d gotten it. He smiled at the twins.

“Yep, my dad was Prongs. His two best mates were Sirius Black, also known as Padfoot, and Remus Lupin, also known as Moony.”

The twins looked dumbstruck.

“You’re the Marauders?” George asked.

“Monsieurs Padfoot and Moony?” Fred wondered.

“At your service.” Sirius said with a flamboyant bow, while Remus, the more restrained of the two just grinned a wolfish grin.

“We’re not worthy!” the twins exclaimed and started pestering the two for tips.

“Hey, Mate.” Ron said, “Want something to drink?” he gestured at a full stocked little bar set up at the side. Dobby was wearing a ridiculous bartender costume that one of Harry’s uncles must have picked for him.

“Can Dobby make anything for the Great Harry Potter?” Dobby asked hopefully.

“They’ve got some really great firewhiskey.” Ron whispered.

Harry looked around at his friends, each of whom had a highball glass with a little of the amber fluid in it.

“Why not?” he shrugged.

Harry slowly sipped his drink while he learned to play billiards against Ron with Remus coaching. Neville, Seamus, and Dean looked on, trying to learn the game so they could play when it was their turn. Harry was clearly better coordinated than Ron, but Ron had more of a feel for the strategy of the game, always setting himself up for his next shots, while Harry just played each time without thinking of the next shot. Their different strengths left them relatively evenly matched and Harry ended up winning by one ball.

Dobby popped back in with a platter full of sizzling steaks. He made sure each of them had one, along with a baked potato, asparagus, and freshly baked rolls.

Sirius leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the steak, juice dripping down his chin. Remus looked to be in heaven, eating a shockingly rare steak that Dobby had obviously made just for him.

“So Harry, the Stag Night is a longstanding Wizarding tradition.” Sirius lectured, “Your mates and your uncles are here to celebrate the end of your freedom!”

Harry shook his head at that.

“Ok, maybe that’s a poor way to describe it, because it’s been clear to me from the start you and Hermione were meant for each other. Ever since you flew in on Buckbeak to rescue your Godfather, I could tell you two were a team.”

“Hermione!” Remus said, lifting his glass.

“Hermione!” the rest echoed.

“What about me?” Ron protested, “I’m part of the team!”

“Shut up, Ron.” Sirius laughed, “Harry’s not going to marry you, no matter how much you beg!”

Ron turned red while the other guys laughed.

“So enjoy yourself!” Sirius said, “Good food, good company, good booze, and I have a surprise for later….” Sirius said, “Oh, I almost forgot, there are Cuban cigars in the humidor. If you want, try one. They’re special Wizard cigars that have been detoxified. There’s no tar and they won’t hurt your lungs at all. The smell magically disappears in the morning and your mouth won’t feel like something died in it.”

“So what about you two?” Dean asked, looking at Ron and Neville, “I’d hoped to ask Ginny out myself…no offense, Ron…but after you took her to the Yule Ball, Nev, I knew I didn’t have a chance.”

Neville blushed. “We’re doing really well. I’m constantly surprised she doesn’t get bored with me, but she seems happy enough. I’m hoping to try out for the Quidditch team next year after Fred and George graduate. Give us another thing in common.”

“Not what I meant, mate.” Dean said, grinning, “I mean when are you and Ron gonna propose to your birds?”

“Jumping the gun a bit, aren’t you?” Ron asked, “We’re young yet. Not everyone’s like Harry, here.”

“What about you?” Harry asked, smiling back at Dean, “You’ve said you would have asked Ginny out if she’d been free, but who’re you dating?”

Seamus looked at his friend Dean. “Well, I asked Lavender out and Dean asked Parvati. They’ve said yes, so we’ll be going with ‘em to the next Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Good show!” Fred said, wandering up, “I wondered when our excellent examples would start rubbing off on the younger generations.”

“Excellent examples?” Harry asked, “You mean like the ‘examples’ you made during the DA Christmas party? I never did show you the pictures Colin, got did I? Hermione charmed some of his lenses to let the camera see what the rest of us were seeing.”

Fred and George groaned. It was rare that the prank masters were pranked so thoroughly.

“Well, Fred,” George said, “at least we know we don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

“What’s this then?” Remus asked, hearing hints of a prank. As the brains behind the Marauders… a title he later shared with Lily, he was always curious to learn new techniques.

Harry told the story about how he, Hermione, Ron, and Luna had pranked the twins so they appeared nude to all the older students at the DA Christmas party, but with two age charms so the younger students didn’t see it and the staff didn’t either.

“Wow, Harry, that’s some advanced work!” Remus said.

“And a good prank!” Sirius added, punching Harry in the shoulder in an appreciative way.

“Well,” Harry said, “Hermione did most of the heavy lifting.”

“So what caused you to prank the twins?” Neville asked innocently.

Ron blushed red to the roots of his hair and Harry stammered trying to change the subject.

“Oh, come now.” Sirius said, “You’re among friends here. Another rule of the house for the night – what’s said or done here tonight stays here. There’ll be no telling, understood?”

They all nodded. Harry took a slug of his firewhiskey, which Dobby had liberally mixed with soda, knowing his master didn’t have much experience with alcohol. The drink and the promise of secrecy gave him enough fortitude to tell the story about the Twins’ tainted firewhiskey prank and the exhibitionism it had prompted.

“Well, it all started with some firewhiskey…” Harry started, raising his glass.

“Here, here!” They all cheered before listening intently.

After the story, they were all laughing, Sirius in particular almost falling out of his chair.

“Here I was starting to worry you lot were too serious.” He said.

“No, that’s you.” Harry quipped, which caused a few groans, particularly from Remus who’d been hearing puns based on his friend’s name for most of his life.

Sirius told a similar story involving a drunken skinny dipping session in the lake and Prongs stealing his, Remus’ and their girls’ clothes using the invisibility cloak to remain undetected.

Everyone laughed, but Harry held up his hand, “Padfoot, that was hilarious, but I want to propose a new house rule: that story was fine, but make sure my mother doesn’t make it into any of your stories.”

“How do you know your mother wasn’t in that story?” Sirius asked, arching one eyebrow, “I never said who either Remus or I were dating.”

Harry turned pale. Sirius kept a straight face for a few seconds longer and then broke up.

“Just kidding, pup! She never dated Remus or I.”

“Lily and I were good friends, though.” Remus said, “Pretty much from the start, because we were the two bookworms of Gryffindor at the time.”

Harry loved to hear stories about his parents and forced Sirius and Remus to tell as many as they would.

“So I’m finally on the team.” Ron said, “Neville’s planning to try out for beater next year. What about you two?” he asked looking at Seamus and Dean.

“We’ve been talking about trying out for chaser.” Dean said, “A bunch of spots are opening up on the team, eh?”

“It worries me a bit.” Harry admitted, “I’m glad to hear you’re trying out. I was thinking of pushing Hermione to, as well.”

“Hermione?” Seamus said, “I thought she hated flying?”

“Not at all.” Harry said, “She wasn’t a big fan at first, but since the end of third year, she’s gotten over it and now she’s really good. You should have seen the flying she did when she came after me in that graveyard at the end of the tournament.”

“Hey, pup, that’s a good idea.” Sirius said, bringing out a large pensieve, “These can be really fun at parties. Why don’t you put that memory in there.”

Harry hesitated. He wasn’t sure it was a party type memory, but with the urging of his friends he did.

At the end everyone was amazed. Sirius, as an experienced host, kept the mood from turning too somber by quickly dropping the memory of the skinny dipping incident into the pensieve. Soon they were all laughing again.

Reluctantly, Harry shared the memory of the tainted firewhiskey episode. Before he did, he sent a mental question to Hermione, requesting her permission to show it, since it would be embarrassing to her. Her reply surprised him.

<So Sirius hasn’t told you about his surprise yet? Don’t worry about embarrassing me, Harry.> Hermione sent back in reply, <You know I get a charge out of that sort of thing. As long as they’re not crude, it’ll be hot seeing Dean, Seamus… hell, even Neville trying to keep that image out of their heads when they see me next time.>

<You minx!> Harry sent back in amazement.

<But I’m your minx, right Harry?> she sent back in almost a purr. Harry could tell she was also having something to drink. <Harry, do I have your permission if anything that might be embarrass you comes up?>

<Sure, I guess.> Harry said.

<Thanks!> Hermione said, sounding relieved, <Sirius said just go ahead, but I wasn’t sure. Have fun!>

The group was laughing at the memory. Ron, blushing at how much of Luna had been exposed in that memory, shared his of the prank on the twins. Harry had been pushed to share his of the Chamber of Secrets and again everyone was stunned.

Sirius glanced at his watch, deciding to intervene again. “Gentlemen, hit the restroom, freshen up your drinks, whatever you want to do and get back here in ten minutes. I’ve got a surprise for Harry!”

They milled around and did as Sirius asked. Sirius leaned against a wall with Remus, watching.

“It’s good to see, isn’t it Moony?”

“These guys, being boys?” Remus asked, “Or rather, young men? Yeah, it’s good. I’m happy to see they’re getting into a bit of mischief and not just learning to fight all the time.”

The two adults watched their charges. The boys were having fun, trying to smoke cigars and coughing, sipping watered down drinks, and just relaxing. Once they’d all gathered back up, Sirius gestured them to comfortable leather chairs now arranged in a casual semi-circle around a cleared space at one end of the library. The shelves had been covered with dark velvet drapes.

“We gonna watch a movie?” Harry asked, wondering what his uncle was up to.

Sirius grinned, some of Padfoot’s look in his face. “Better than that, Harry, I promise.”

He stood up and faced them, a huge smile on his face.

“As I said before, we’re here tonight to mourn the passing of my Godson’s bachelorhood. I’m happy to have seen it wasn’t all wasted and that his future wife is not a stick-in-the-mud.” Sirius said, “Also as I said, there are certain traditions for a Stag Night. I’m happy to be able to continue one of those tonight. Now for the surprise you’ve all been waiting for… Miss Stella Diamond!”

The lights in the room dimmed until only faces could be glimpsed, lit by the glowing ends of lit cigars. A thrumming song started almost subliminally and a very dim spotlight started shining, revealing a tall blonde in a tight cocktail dress. She looked a lot like a very much matured Luna Lovegood, but without the dreamy eyes. She began to dance, singing along with the song, and the students were mesmerized. She wore a red dress with a low neckline, emphasizing her abundant cleavage. It hugged her curves so tightly it looked painted on. It was narrow with a long slit giving her freedom of movement. The spotlight grew stronger, making the dress sparkle. If it were Muggle, the sparkling would be due to sequins, but the magical dress itself seemed to sparkle.

At first she danced very tastefully, but as she continued, everyone noticed one of her long legs peeking through the slit in her dress. She leaned forward, locking eyes with Harry and showing even more of her cleavage. Neville’s eyes bugged out as he thought he caught a glimpse of her belly button that way. Stella turned away and they could see that the dress was backless; coming so far down it showed off twin dimples and a hint another kind of cleavage.

The first song ended with Stella remaining fully dressed, although her audience was still very titillated. As the music ended, she sat on Harry’s lap and caressed his hair off his forehead, clearly looking at his scar. He normally hated that, but it was hard to hate such a beautiful woman.

“So you’re Harry Potter?” Stella asked in her sultry voice, “It’s so good to meet you, Mr. Potter.”

“Mm…umm, good to meet you, too, Miss Diamond.” Harry stammered.

“Don’t be nervous, Mr. Potter.” Stella continued, “You’re much more famous than I am. You are so sweet. I thought you’d be full of yourself.”

“Everyone seems to think that.” Harry admitted.

“Well, I just wanted to meet you.” Stella said, “My contract includes a Witch’s Oath that I won’t tell anyone what goes on here. I’m paid well for my…discretion, so don’t worry that the details of your Stag Night will get out to the Daily Prophet.”

“Thank you.” Harry said sincerely.

“Oh, that girl’s a lucky one.” Stella said smiling, “Do you think I could get your autograph later?”

“My autograph?” Harry asked.

Stella nodded and caressed Harry’s cheek before standing. Leaning over she whispered in his ear, “Is that your wand or were you just happy to see me?” Laughing, she turned away from him, “Unzip me?”

Harry turned red, but did as she as asked, finding the hidden zipper and tugging it down. Stella began to sway as her next song started. She danced in front of the boys, holding her gown to her body until she turned and let it fall, revealing a thong that barely concealed her gorgeous bottom. She wore thigh high stockings the same color as her knickers and bra. She turned and they could all see the thong was sheer in the front, as was her bra. She danced in front of each of the students in turn. Harry had to laugh, seeing how differently each of them responded. The twins were unphased. Apparently they had enough experience that this wasn’t that momentous an event. Neville, on the other hand was blushing. He appeared conflicted about whether to look or to look away. Dean, Seamus, and Ron clearly enjoyed looking and each got their hands slapped for trying to do more than look.

That song flowed into the next and Stella threw her bra on Harry’s head, causing him to turn red all over again. They all watched, mouths open, as her breasts swayed and jiggled with the dancing. She turned her back and they all appreciated the toned muscles of her back, buttocks, and thighs. She slowly slid her knickers over her hips and stepped out of them, dressed only in high heel shoes and thigh high stockings. Harry could hear his pulse beating in his ears. She was not as good looking to him as Hermione, but she was very, very naked.

When she turned around, he took in her breasts, the flat planes of her belly, and the small tuft of light brown hair. Hermione kept hers completely bare and he decided then he liked bare better, but he was happy he got to compare the two.

When she finished dancing, she sat on Harry’s lap.

“You keep your hands to yourself.” Stella observed, “You’ve got a lucky girl, Mr. Potter.”

She spent some time on each boy’s lap, chatting with them. She laughed as she slapped the boy’s hands, not offended in the least by their antics, but well-able to handle them without any real effort. She stood, “Now you get a real treat.” Stella said, “Sirius told me Harry would enjoy this more if I told him it was approved by the one whose approval means the most to him. So Harry, this is for you.”

She stepped back to the center of her little ‘stage’. She pulled a wand, although nobody saw from where, and suddenly was dressed in a Gryffindor school uniform. As the lights dimmed to complete darkness, everyone saw her uncork a potion vial and drink it.

“Woooooo!” Padfoot called out, although it half sounded like a howl. Remus joined him and the two joined their voices in howling. A familiar laugh came out of the darkness.

As the lights came up, they all saw someone very familiar to them, Miss Hermione Granger.

“Oh, Harry.” Stella said in Hermione’s voice. She had to have met Hermione to get the mannerisms exactly right. She put her hand on her hip and pointed at him, “What kind of trouble were you getting into without me there to keep an eye on you? Shouldn’t you be studying?”

She paced towards him, then leaned over. Harry didn’t think the Hogwarts jumper ever exposed that much cleavage. Her tie was definitely loose…

“Were you thinking about me, Harry?” she asked saucily, turning sharply, her bushy brown hair spinning around her shoulders and her shorter-than-regulation uniform skirt flaring out to show a pair of white cotton knickers. She walked over and plopped on Seamus’ lap.

“Bookworms don’t just live in the library, Mr. Finnegan.” Stella/Hermione said, “We like to have fun, too.”

Seamus looked half panicked, “Don’t kill me, Harry, I didn’t lay a hand on her!”

Harry laughed. He was glad Hermione had approved, otherwise he knew he’d be feeling guilty right now, but this was just too much fun!

Dean thought so, too, wolf-whistling at Stella.

Hermione strode over to Dean. “Mr. Thomas, are you disturbing the library? Maybe I need to take house points away from you! No, instead, why don’t you take off my jumper?”

Dean smiled and pulled the jumper over her head, mussing her hair.

“Oh, the ‘just shagged look’ suits her!” Sirius called out, “I think I saw that a few times over holiday… what were you up to, Harry?”

Sirus looked at his Godfather shocked. Stella/Hermione went over and plopped in his lap.

“Uncle Sirius,” Hermione pouted, “you know girls mature faster than boys…”

Then she stood up and gave them all a teasing look, “…especially you boys!”

She moved on to Ron.

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione said, “you’re like a brother to me.” She sat gently in his lap and gave him a shocked look, “That doesn’t feel like you think of me like a sister, though!”

She stood, shaking her finger at him as if to say, ‘naughty, naughty’.

Dancing to the music, she unbuttoned her shirt to show a lacy, but subdued bra, the kind that a schoolgirl trying to dress sexy might wear. Harry laughed and Stella looked at him surprised.

“Harry, what’s so funny?”

“Now I know something’s off… you never wear a bra!”

Everyone laughed at that, shocked at Harry’s drunken admission. Hermione just smiled.

“Gives you something to take off me, later!”

She continued to dance and they all enjoyed watching her perky schoolgirl breasts gently bobbing with her movements. She danced around, her plaid skirt twitching over her toned thighs.

“Now I see why you’re getting married so young!” Remus said, then turned red at realizing what he’d said. Sirius pounded him on the back, laughing at his friend’s discomfiture.

They all watched as ‘Hermione’ unfastened her skirt, dropping it on Neville’s lap. She walked around in her Mary Jane shoes, knee high stockings, plain but somewhat sheer white knickers, and lacy cotton bra. Her Gryffindor tie still hung around her neck, falling into her subtle cleavage. Harry noticed there was no shadow of pubic hair through the sheer front of her knickers and wondered whether the Polyjuice potion was that accurate or whether Hermione had told Stella how to groom for the event.

Harry thought he was excited for the earlier dance, but this was Hermione, his vision of feminine perfection. His pulse was pounding in his ears and he felt hot. It seemed like it could have been an uncomfortable situation, but was too exciting to feel anything but good. He was a bit embarrassed to have his mates effectively seeing his fiancée in her underwear, but he suspected it was just going to get worse.

Stella/Hermione reached behind her to unfasten her bra, but then stopped and walked to Harry.

“If I never wear one of these, you may need the practice, Harry.” She smirked, flowing into his arms. She brought her mouth to his, but he held back. It was Hermione, but it wasn’t. He unfastened her bra with one hand, his skilled fingers making quick work, even though the clasp was unfamiliar.

“No wonder you’re a seeker!” Stella/Hermione exclaimed, then in a quieter voice, “And a gentleman, I really AM a lucky girl!”

Harry realized those definitely were Hermione’s breasts down to the color of her nipples. He flushed, excited but still unsure he wanted his friends seeing those details. Oh, well, he thought. Hermione thought it was funny, he might as well let it play out. She spent several songs in just her knickers, spending a few minutes on each young man’s lap. She wasn’t as quick to slap hands away, maybe less protective since it wasn’t really her own form. Stella/Hermione let each of them hold her and gave them some gentle kisses, squirming into their laps with a giggle.

Harry was shocked to see both Sirius and Remus take advantage of Stella’s favors. Remus at least had the courtesy to look embarrassed. Sirius just grinned at Harry.

Stella stood and again turned her back. Leaving her legs completely straight, she bent ninety degrees at the waist, dropping her knickers to the floor and giving them all a great view of her bum and a glimpse of what she had between her legs. She danced another song in just stockings, shoes, and Gryffindor tie. After spending another few minutes on each young man’s lap, she made her way to Harry.

“I like your young woman.” Stella whispered in his ear, “You learn a lot about a person, spending some time in their form. Her responses are even more powerful than mine. I about lost it several times.” Blushing, she admitted, “Ok, did lose control a couple of times. She definitely keeps herself fit. Martial arts? It feels differently than Quidditch or dance muscle. I enjoyed entertaining you, Harry.”

“I…couldn’t have imagined.” Harry said, “I’m still shocked she was ok with you using her form!”

Stella/Hermione giggled, “She’ll keep amazing you for the rest of your life, Harry. Now I’m about to change back, I can feel it. Once I’m changed back, I want to get a picture with you.”

The lights went down, Stella reverted to her normal form as the potion ran out. The lights came up and there was Stella back in the thigh high stockings and high heels, quick changes apparently a specialty. She came and sat in Harry’s lap again. Sirius took picture with a wizard camera and had Dobby quickly develop it.

Harry leaned closer to Stella’s ear. “I have to ask, does Polyjuice cover pubic hair style or did you have to change it to match her?”

“She told me how she keeps it.” Stella admitted, “She helped me get her mannerisms right, too. Told me to exaggerate a lot.”

Stella put the sparkly red gown on and then took another picture with Harry and one with the group. She had Harry autograph both her pictures when they were developed.

“Bye!” she called out, before leaving by floo.

Harry settled back into his chair, his whiskey and soda held loosely in his hand. Stag Night indeed!

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Additional disclaimer: My main characters are older than their supposed calendar ages. Hermione because of the time she gained by using the time turner in third year. She used it obsessively. Knowing what a perfectionist she is and how much she wants to learn, you can only imagine how much she used it. While she could probably say exactly how many hours she gained, she’s never done the calculation, because she doesn’t care. Suffice it to say she’s at or above the age of consent wherever you’re reading this.

Harry is a teenage boy who gained some of the power and abilities of the greatest Dark Lord in history through the soul fragment. Voldemort was at least 50 years old. One-seventh of a fifty year old combined with the entirety of a teenager results in a composite age of at least twenties. I know many will argue Voldemort’s years don’t count for Harry, but if he gains some of his skills, skills come with age, can we really say that?

This will never figure into the plot of my story, but suffice it to say both of my main characters are intended to be portrayed at or above the age of consent no matter what calendar birthday they mentioned last. It’s magic.

A/N: This chapter didn’t really further the plot a lot, but it showed some of the socialization, which is also important. The next chapter will be key and I wanted a whole chapter for the big event. It may be awhile, because my shift is changing, so be patient.

This is largely unedited, so finding mistakes would not surprise me. My apologies.

32. Phoenix Gathering

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, or the Potter-verse. I don’t make money on it, either.

Chapter 32: Phoenix Gathering

Late April

Harry woke up with a groan. His head felt like someone was hammering on it. Not as much as when his scar really hurt, but since he’d learned occlumency that hadn’t happened often, so he’d grown accustomed to being pain free. As soon as he could focus, he picked up his glasses, bumping an unfamiliar flask sitting on his night stand. With his glasses on he could see a potion vial next to him, labeled ‘hangover potion’ in Hermione’s neat hand. If it had been in Sirius’ handwriting, he would have had second thoughts about drinking it, but he knew Hermione wouldn’t prank him, so he quickly tossed it back. The pain faded.

‘Thanks!’ he sent over their mental link.

‘You’re welcome.’ He heard back, ‘Take a shower and I’ll be there soon.’

Harry did just that. He jumped in the shower and scrubbed himself thoroughly. He washed his hair twice, knowing the cigars were supposedly magical, but wanting to absolutely insure he didn’t smell like an ashtray when he saw his fiancée next. As soon as he was done, he brushed his teeth twice. Hermione was the daughter of dentists, so he thought that was particularly important.

When he walked back into his Grimmauld place room, Hermione was sitting on the bed. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a hooded jumper, much different than how she usually dressed lately. He couldn’t remember seeing her in jeans in quite a while.

“Big party yourself, too, huh?” Harry asked with a grin.

“I never thought adult women could be so crazy.” Hermione answered with a blush.

“Really?” Harry asked, curious.

“I can’t get into any details.” Hermione quickly added, “It’s apparently one of the unwritten rules of a hen’s night, but yes, they were crazy.”

“Hermione…” Harry started hesitantly, “what was with the polyjuiced dancer?”

“Stella?” Hermione asked with a grin, “I thought you’d enjoy that. I had a feeling you’d feel guilty looking at anyone other than me and since I wasn’t going to volunteer to dance for your friends, I thought I’d give you the next best thing.”

“It just felt weird…” Harry tried to explain, “it was you, but it wasn’t you. My mates were watching. Even Padfoot and Moony got into it!”

“Does that really surprise you?” Hermione asked with an arched eyebrow, “Sirius really is a dog in every sense of the word. He checks out every pretty girl. If I didn’t catch him looking at me every once in a while, it would hurt my ego. He’s completely harmless, though. It’s something I can feel.”

Hermione looked at Harry for a moment, staring into his eyes, feeling his tangled emotions through the bond. She scooted closer to him on the bed, finally just easing herself into his lap and looking up at him from there.

“Harry.” Hermione said seriously, “I’ve changed a lot since we kissed and established our bond. I’m barely even the same person. I’ve relaxed and my fun loving side has really come out. There is a reason my Patronus is an otter after all, even though most people have never seen that part of me. I’ve explored my sexuality a bit with you and I’m more comfortable in my skin. Really, though, this is not about a ‘new me’. My reasoning would make sense to the old me, too. That dancer looked like me, but it wasn’t me. Could Stella have fooled you?”

“No.” Harry said definitely.

“Why not?” Hermione asked.

“Because I can feel you.” Harry answered, “I could sense you anywhere and I knew exactly where you were the whole night.”

“That’s right.” Hermione said, smiling up at him, “Do you love the image of me, the part of me Stella put on over her own self, or do you love the me you can feel, the real me?”

“I love you.” Harry assured her.

“I love you, too.” Hermione smiled, “Harry, horrible things could happen to our bodies. Ron lost a limb. You or I could be permanently injured too. I hope you’d still love me.”

“I would!” Harry protested.

“I know you would.” Hermione said, smiling and stroking his face, “I feel it and it makes me feel safe and much loved. We are spirits in a body. The spirit is us, not the body. Here’s another way to look at it. If Padma had ever dated you and you got to the point where you saw her naked, should Parvati be embarrassed?”

Harry thought about that one for a moment. He’d never even thought about how awkward relationships might be for twins.

“No.” Harry said, “It’s not her body, not really.”

“No, I agree.” Hermione nodded, “And if it came time that you slept with Padma, Parvati shouldn’t be embarrassed or feel like you’d slept with her. If you tried to sleep with Paravati, because you felt like you already had, that wouldn’t be right. They’re two separate people! Those two are much closer, through being raised together and having the bond of being twins than Stella and I could ever be. That wasn’t me that was just a dancer imitating my form with a potion. Now do you understand why I didn’t mind?”

Harry, looking thoughtful, nodded.

“If I’d known it was going to bother you, I would have asked you permission before stealing one of your hairs!” Hermione teased, giving Harry an evil grin.

“You used one of my hairs?” Harry said confused, then suddenly realized what she was saying and flushed very red, “You didn’t! Who saw?”

“I’ll never tell!” Hermione laughed, “It’s one of the rules of Hen’s Night!”

She squirmed away as Harry started tickling her in revenge.

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Hermione was checking items off a list in her wedding planner. Everything was ready, she was just reviewing. Since the bond, she was able to recognize her OCD tendencies, even though she didn’t necessarily change them. She glanced up and noticed Seamus was looking at her funny. She realized somehow they were the only two in the Gryffindor common room for the moment.

“Seamus!” Hermione called out, “Why are you staring at me?”

“Uhhh…” Seamus stuttered, “I’m not!”

“You are!” Hermione said, standing and walking to where he was reading a football magazine, “Why?”

Seamus blushed and Hermione’s exceptional mind quickly put the pieces together. She wanted to punch him, but she was also very amused and a little flattered.

“Seamus Finnegan!” Hermione said, putting her hands on her hips, “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about me naked! After all the time you’ve been Harry’s roommate, a fellow Gryffindor and a team mate in the DA?”

Seamus flushed even darker, “It’s not my fault! I shouldn’t have seen you nude and then have to be around you!”

Hermione shook her head, “You silly git. You never saw me nude. You saw some stripper who used polyjuice potion. That’s the outside, but it’s like an iceberg - Hermione Granger is ninety percent what’s beneath the surface! That includes the knowledge and ability to curse you into next week. Do you understand, Mr. Finnegan?”

Seamus nodded.

Hermione punched him lightly in the shoulder, not using any of the techniques she’d learned from Ashdown and being careful not to put any real strength into it. Since she’d made her animagus transformation, she’s noticed a big increase. She gave Seamus a saucy little smile.

“Seamus, you were invited because you were one of Harry’s mates. We trust you not to be weird. Get it?”

Seamus nodded again, one of his regular smiles crossing his face.

“It’s hard to forget though, Hermione.”

“Good, because that’s the only look you’ll be getting.” Hermione grinned, walking back to her planner, vaguely wondering if he was staring at her ass.

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April 30

Harry and Hermione stood at the Gryffindor fireplace before dinner. Hermione had decided they were going to honor the tradition of not seeing each other the day of the wedding prior to the actual wedding, but having been together almost constantly, the idea of being apart for even almost a day was difficult.

“I’ll still be with you.” Harry said, staring down at her, his emerald eyes filled with devotion, “Next time we see each other will be right before we’re to be married. How exciting is that?”

“Really exciting.” Hermione whispered, “I’m still going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Harry said, “Waiting will be easier with that image to sustain me, though.”

Hermione stretched upwards to kiss Harry. He’d grown since they’d been together. Never having to spend time with the Dursleys agreed with him. She stared a moment longer into his eyes and then quickly stepped back only to vanish in a blaze of golden flames.

“Goodbye, Hermione Jane Granger.” Harry whispered, “Tomorrow you’ll become Hermione Jane Potter. I can’t wait.”

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Hermione ate dinner with her parents, discussing last minute contingencies. The plans themselves had been done for weeks and even the backup plans had been in place. Now they were discussing backups to backups, a tendency the Granger women were infamous for. Hermione’s mind, however, was on another project she’d put even more work into. After dinner, she planned to complete her checks on those arrangements.

She left her mum watching some Hugh Grant wedding movie that wasn’t really that positive about the tradition of marriage after all.

“Mum, I have something I need to check on back at the castle.” Hermione said.

“Ok, honey.” Jane said, “Your project for Harry?”

Hermione just nodded and disappeared. She reappeared in the married student quarters Dumbledore had convinced Hogwarts castle to manifest jutting off Gryffindor tower. The suite occupied another small tower sprouting from main Gryffindor tower and accessible from the common room.

“I wondered when you would come to check your work again.” Dumbledore’s voice sounded quietly.

Hermione hung her head, realizing she’d been caught.

“Do not be embarrassed, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said, the hint of a smile on his face, “Oh, I just realized that is one of the last times I will call you that. No, do not be embarrassed, because your meticulousness and planning has been one of the things keeping Harry alive this long. I certainly hope you are not planning to stop. I was just planning to check your work myself and thought I might wait for you.”

Hermione nodded happily. She’d already had Professors Babbling and Vector check over them, but another eye couldn’t hurt.

The two carefully pored over the flawlessly inscribed ritual circle centered on the bed with carefully designed wards etched in runes in every open space. Hermione had developed spells to inscribe the circles and runes for her, striving to make them not just right, but absolutely perfect. Wizards hadn’t even realized there were graduations of space as small as a nanometer, but she’d crafted spells to inscribe within tolerances of fractions of a picometer and angles accurate to picoradians, perfection on such an infinitesimal scale it wouldn’t even be measurable without magic. She’d designed the whole set to account for the magical fields surrounding and pouring into Hogwarts, which had been placed in its location specifically to harness the power of the natural magical field lines or ley lines. Like Stonehenge, Hogwarts was at a node where the ley lines converged and also like Stonehenge, it was at one of the most powerful.

“This is really unique.” Dumbledore observed, “I have to say that if I saw it without knowing who had designed it, I would have to assume an arthimancy prodigy and a runes master had been forced by an obsessive compulsive to create the most complicated runic array I have ever seen.”

Hermione sighed, “But will it work, Headmaster?”

“Who knows?” Dumbledore replied, sitting on a chair and looking directly at her, “You have designed something nobody before has even conceived of. I barely even understand it and not to be falsely modest, I am one of the most learned wizards of this age. Please tell me again what you have built.”

“It’s a combination of a ritual circle and an overlapping set of wards.” Hermione said, speaking from memory of what was her most in-depth project to date, “I started with the ritual circle and it developed from there. It is precisely oriented to funnel magical power to any workers within the circle. The wards are designed to exclude evil, so they will filter the power so only light side magic can enter once they’re activated. Any excess power released inside will be funneled into the Hogwarts wards, like you’ve taught us, so it doesn’t damage the surrounding room or put any students in danger.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Remarkable. I can feel how the Hogwarts wards are seeking to integrate these. With your permission I will do so.”

Hermione nodded. Integrating them into the Hogwarts wards would make them stronger from the start, powering them initially from the ancient power of the castle, although she had designed them to grow even greater over the short term. Her intent was not unlike that of the geniuses of the Manhattan project, although instead of a team of scientists, she’d done most of her work alone with input from others.

Dumbledore patted her back gently as he stood to go.

“Miss Granger, every spell I cast to measure how close to true your inscriptions are found they were perfect. There is zero deviation between optimum and your design. If our desired outcome is possible, you have built this to achieve it.”

Hermione nodded, swallowing against a dry throat, “That’s the question, isn’t it Professor?”

“You have done everything you could, Hermione.” Dumbledore said in his grandfatherly voice, “Trust to Harry’s luck, now.”

The Headmaster stepped out of the room to leave a worried bride, still looking over her work.

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May 1

Without classes, Harry had spent the day with Sirius and Remus. He’d gone to Grimmauld the night before, after Hermione had left. He’d had dinner with Sirius, Remus, and surprisingly Arthur Weasley. They had eaten and the older men had talked to him about marriage and family, seeking to pass their wisdom on to the young man. It had been very relaxing, exactly what Harry had needed. He’d slept in on his wedding day. Neither he nor Hermione had any classes, so he’d spent the day relaxing. Because they wanted to use May Day, which was a Friday, they’d chosen to schedule their wedding for after dinner. It was a very unusual time for a wedding, but it was one of the only times that wouldn’t interfere with the normal functioning of the school. It was going to be a relatively small wedding, with mostly students as guests. They’d granted Xeno Lovegood and Rita Skeeter the exclusive to cover the wedding. Having collaborated before on the issue that had become the Quibbler’s most read, they’d agreed to work together again on something likely to be even bigger. From the Ministry, Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, and the aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks attended.

The room had been rearranged completely. Hermione had merged Wizarding and Muggle traditions into something that was uniquely hers. The Head Table was gone and there was a simple raised podium three steps up from the floor, all draped with pure white drapes. Bench-like seats filled the room, split by an aisle into two blocks. The benches were soft and comfortable, hinting at their maker’s preferences. Each bench had a bundle of magical roses, tied with a blue ribbon. The roses were brilliant red in color and seemed almost aflame. They were called Phoenix Roses due to their flame-like appearance and their rich smell permeated the room. The house banners were gone, replaced by the Potter arms embroidered in silver on blue banners to match Hermione’s chosen colors.

Harry stood at the front with Ron and Neville beside him. Hedwig was perched on his shoulder, quietely trilling a joyous song that raised the already high spirits of all the attendees despite the volume. Harry wore deepest black Acromantula-silk robes, lined in white. He looked intently at the door, not nervous, but totally focused outside himself. Ron stood by him, dressed in slightly less elaborate version of the same black robe, lined in the same blue that was the predominant wedding color. Neville stood next to Ron, tall and broad shouldered, having grown rapidly and having lost most of the baby fat he’d been cursed with when he’d arrived at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore stood in the center of the podium, with Harry on his left. He wore heavy silver samite robes. Fawkes was perched on his shoulder, his song blending and forming a harmony with Hedwig’s.

Professor Flitwick gestured and music began to play. It sounded like Muggle wedding music, but as if played by an endless orchestra of virtuoso performers. There were subtle undertones and hints of sound that blended together to create an overwhelming whole. The magical music ignored the acoustics of the giant stone room and it sounded as if played in a recording studio. Hedwig shifted her song to match and supplement the music and Fawkes again joined her.

The doors to the Great Hall opened. Dobby, dressed in a miniature version of the same dress robes as Harry wore walked carefully down the aisle, bearing a white pillow. He carried it with utter solemnity to the front, staring at Harry. Ron dipped and took the rings while Dobby swiftly walked off to the side, almost vibrating with joy at getting to be part of the ceremony.

Luna entered in a blue linen gown. Phoenix roses formed a circlet for her pale blonde hair and she carried a small bouquet of the same bound in a dark blue ribbon. She seemed to almost float along the aisle as she walked to the front, smiled at Harry, Ron, and Neville, before taking her place on Dumbledore’s opposite side.

Ginny walked in next, dressed in the same blue gown. The Phoenix roses in her hair almost disappeared into her red locks, making the whole mass look like it was on fire. She stepped to the side next to Luna.

Winky entered, wearing a dark blue gown and carrying a basket of Phoenix rose petals, scattering them along the walk.

The music subtly shifted, swelling into something overwhelmingly exciting. The phoenices increased their volume as if anticipating something momentous. From the darkness around the doors, Hermione stepped into the Great Hall on her father’s arm. Her dress was brilliant white, the color only comparable to Hedwig’s plumage with no other non-magical color being adequate to describe it. It was a thick samite, but somehow still clung to her as if it were thin silk. Every inch was crusted with gleaming pearls. The bodice ended over her breasts and was sleeveless, hugging her body to reveal every curve until it flared out into a traditional skirt. The train was long and was carried by a handful of House Elf maidens. The back of the dress was fastened with small round buttons, seemingly infinite in number, making a perfect line down the back.

Her chestnut colored hair was piled up above her head with curls framing her face, all behind a thin veil held in place by a circlet of the magical roses. Her eyes were instantly captured by Harry’s as he stood looking at her as if mesmerized. Their hearts beat in unison and neither could immediately take a breath.

“Breathe, Hermione.” Oberon said with a smile for his daughter.

She took a deep breath and relaxed. Harry breathed with her, unknowingly having synchronized his every process with hers.

Hermione walked down the aisle, her father’s arm in hers but her mind at the front of the room with her groom. Every moment in her life seemed to have led to this one and she felt nothing but joy, the same joy reflected in the utter absorption of Harry’s eyes as he watched her walking towards him. She gracefully stepped up the three steps and stopped, reluctantly turning away from Harry and towards her father.

“May God bless your marriage.” Oberon said, tears welling in his eyes as he solemnly raised his daughter’s veil, “Always know your mother and I love you.”

He hugged Hermione, who squeezed him back in one of her trademark bone-breaking hugs. They kissed each other’s cheeks and then her father gently turned her to her groom. Harry grasped Oberon’s hand and they shook, before Oberon placed Hermione’s hand in Harry’s, then walked to the front row of seats and sat next to Jane Granger.

Harry and Hermione stood staring at one another, barely noticing when Dumbledore began speaking. They’d never be able to say later whether they heard everything he said or not, their attention was so taken by each other. Their magic, released from the tight constraints they normally kept it under, flared outward, creating an almost visible nimbus around them, the emerald and golden light mixing and blending.

“Marriage is the central institution in the Wizarding world.” Dumbledore began, “As it is by marriage that children are created and magic grows. Without marriage and without children, the Wizarding world would wither and disappear.”

“Our oaths to one another in marriage are sealed by our magic, never to be broken.” Dumbledore continued, “Those oaths are symbolized by our rings. Do you have rings to exchange today?”

They both nodded.

“Then exchange oaths and the rings that will symbolize them forever.” Dumbledore said, raising his hands as if in benediction. The phoenices continued singing, their song elevating the magic in the room to where it was almost palpable.

“Dearest Hermione,” Harry said, “you are everything I have ever wanted. Someone to love and who loves me, someone to create a family with. We have created a bond and I will always be with you. I devote myself to you, body, mind, soul, and magic, to the end of days and beyond.”

Simultaneously with his words, Harry placed Hermione’s wedding ring smoothly on her finger. His magic rang with his oath, golden cords binding their hands where they held each other, brightly visible even at the back of the room. Dumbledore’s eyes widened at Harry’s vow, worded to last beyond death, an ancient form of the traditional vows.

Tears wavered in Hermione’s eyes as she felt the sincerity behind Harry’s vows through their bond. There was not a doubt in his heart that he meant every word he said.

“Dearest Harry,” Hermione said, her voice quivering but loud and clear, “you are everything I ever wanted. Someone who loves this bookworm for me and stands beside me no matter what. We have created a bond and I will always be with you. I devote myself to you, body, mind, soul, and magic, to the end of days and beyond.”

Hermione’s magic flared and golden cords lashed out, binding her hands to Harry’s as she placed her ring on his finger. Their magic auras rose to the ceiling and the bond between them grew so strong as to be easily visible to everyone in the audience. Their auras blended until it wasn’t emerald around him and golden around her, but mixed around them both. A pulse of magic so strong as to be almost a physical force washed over the room, as if a very loud pure-toned bell was struck with a hammer by a giant. Rather than being unpleasant, as a clanging bell might be, it was as pleasant as if the audience were bathed in gentle sunshine, the feeling somewhat like a wave pushing against you as you stood in the ocean. Hedwig and Fawkes burst from their places and flew around the room, their song reaching a glorious crescendo.

“As witness to the vow your magic has recognized, I acknowledge you as Wizard and Witch.”

Harry wrapped Hermione in his arms and kissed her passionately, all the love in his body seeking expression before his heart burst from it. She returned his kiss with all the love she had for him, all the times she’d worried for him, and all the loyalty she’d shown him wrapped up in one perfect kiss. They didn’t hear the audience cheering or the phoenices singing, they were too absorbed in each other.

They broke the kiss reluctantly, smiling at each other. Hermione giggled, feeling the incredible feeling of happiness bubbling up inside her, pushing out even her worries about her project. They finally heard the applause and turned to see their guests applauding. Hagrid was sitting near the front, bawling like a baby, using a handkerchief the size of a small quilt to dry his tears. Professor Flitwick was sitting next to the half-giant, applauding. Seeing them looking, he gave them both a big thumbs up.

They spent almost an hour greeting their guests, shaking hands and thanking people for coming. Since it was scheduled after dinner, they hadn’t planned a dinner, but House Elves circulated with snack food and drinks. There was a grand cake complete with a miniature Harry and Hermione on the top, created by Professor McGonagall as her contribution to their wedding. Their miniatures looked exactly like them and like Wizarding photos, even interacted with each other. The fact that they spent most of their time kissing wasn’t thought that odd at all.

Harry and Hermione shared a first dance together as a couple, moving flawlessly together, united so closely they moved together without thought and with perfect grace. They broke apart and Hermione shared a dance with her father. Harry, an orphan, danced with Jane Granger, much to her happiness and some tears.

Sirius and Remus watched the two, happy memories shadowed by sad memories of their closest friends and the fact they couldn’t be there. Tonks interrupted their almost maudlin musing by grabbing Remus and pulling him onto the dance floor, leaving Sirius alone. He walked up to Harry.

“Pup, that was beautiful.” Sirius said, “You two remind me so much of your parents, but at the same time, you’re like a blend of both of them. They’d be so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Harry said, hugging his Godfather, “That really means a lot.”

Finally, after everyone had had a chance to congratulate them and they’d each had a small piece of cake, they began to walk towards the doors to the Great Hall. Everyone lined up and shot glitter from their wands, effects and colors unique to the Wizard or Witch who cast the spell. Some of the older, more experienced professors had some truly unique effects. Dumbledore fired off purple flaming phoenices that exploded into golden confetti. McGonagall shot tiny golden snitches from her wand that caused Harry to twitch when he caught them out of the corner of his eye.

Harry and Hermione all but ran to the new quarters they’d been assigned off the Gryffindor common room. Their closest friends had run up before them, teasing them as they moved towards their bedroom. Closest to the door itself were their four closest friends, Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville.

“Congratulations!” Ginny squealed, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Luna gave the redhead a quick glance, “Does that actually exclude anything?”

“Of course not!” Ginny fake pouted.

Luna looked at them with her wide eyed gaze looking somehow penetrating, “Good luck.” She said simply.

“Congratulations, Harry, Hermione.” Neville said, clapping Harry on the back, “It was a really nice wedding.”

“Thanks, Nev.” Harry said, shaking his friend’s hand.

Hermione just pulled the large boy into a hug, causing him to blush.

“Congrats, Mate.” Ron said, “You picked a good one.”

“I know I did.” Harry smiled, “Thanks for standing up with me.”

“Who else?” Ron asked, “I would have been upset if you hadn’t asked me.”

Harry just nodded and embraced his tall gangly friend. Hermione, half smiling and half sobbing grabbed both of them and squeezed.

Once they broke apart, Harry grabbed Hermione and with a quick move, hoisted her off her feet. The door opened to his wandless command and he carried his bride over the sill. The door shut right behind them, a loud locking sound conspicuous.

Harry carefully placed his bride on her feet in their bedroom and kissed her deeply, reigniting passions in both, barely tamped down during the seemingly everlasting delay between their vows and their room.

“One second…” Hermione barely managed to pull herself away, “this is important.”

She went to a particular rune sequence and carefully tapped it in a pre-planned series and then with another complicated wand movement and a long incantation, she activated the whole series she’d placed beforehand.

“That’s it.” Hermione said, “I set up some wards beforehand.”

Harry nodded, knowing there was more to it than she said so casually, but also knowing now wasn’t the time to ask. They came back together, lips meeting urgently. The entire ceremony had been like an appetizer, the two lost in each other and anticipating what was to come afterwards. Now they were drawn together by a primal force as old as humankind.

“Oh, I want you!” Harry murmured, almost into Hermione’s open mouth as he barely broke the kiss to talk.

“Good, because you have me.” Hermione said, “You can have me however you want. I’m yours, completely.”

Harry smiled, his lips curving upwards against hers as she again closed the distance and they kissed. As they continued to kiss, Harry’s hands wandered. He managed to reach Hermione’s breasts in the low cut bodice, touching them hungrily. He kissed and nibbled on her neck as he squeezed her and she moaned.

“I’ve wondered what you had on under this since the moment I saw you.” Harry groaned.

“Nothing there, as you can tell.” Hermione smiled, “A very damp pair of knickers on the bottom, but I’ll need your help to get out of this enough for you to get at them.”

“Just tell me where to start.” Harry said eagerly.

Hermione simply nudged him behind her and raised a few curls of hair that had fallen off the topmost button of the long series of buttons on the back.

“Ah, I see.” Harry grinned, “Looks like I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.”

“Don’t take too long.” Hermione urged, “I feel like I’m about to explode just from your hands.”

Harry took a bit more time to continue kissing her neck and nuzzle against her ear as his hands continued to play with her nipples, even more accessible from the better angle behind her. He finally relinquished her left nipple with his right hand and started unbuttoning. The lower he got, the more room there was for his other hand in her bodice. Hermione arched her neck, moaning at the sensation. When she finally opened her eyes, she realized they were in front of a large mirror attached to the top of a chest of drawers. Placed there to help in getting ready, it reflected a wanton image of a virginal bride, head thrown back, all in white, but with her groom’s hand deeply within her bodice, grasping one breast, while the other spilled out of the open garment. The pulse fluttered in the long line of her neck as Harry continued to kiss. Without even thinking about it, he was already pushing his magic at her and she was responding, feeling like she was afire.

Harry finally had to abandon kissing her neck and caressing her breasts, because he had reached buttons lower than he could unfasten without kneeling slightly. He went to both knees and continued unbuttoning, pausing at her hips as he wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the small of her back, visible only in the vee of her open dress as he rubbed his hands over her flat belly.

“Someday our children will be here.” Harry murmured.

The love Hermione felt through the bond at those words was enough to make Hermione’s knees weak.

“Someday?” Hermione whispered, “Maybe tonight.”

“Tonight?” Harry asked breathlessly.

“Maybe.” Hermione whispered, “I quit the potion. I actually cast a mild confundus charm on myself, because I didn’t want to know where in my cycle I am and with the way my mind works with numbers, if I hadn’t, I’d know whether I was fertile or not. I want tonight to be a complete surrender. I’m completely yours. You can decide where to spend and if it’s in me, you may be a father. I’m all yours to do whatever you want.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Harry whispered back, his voice quavering at how completely his bride was giving herself to him.

“I wanted to.” Hermione replied, her voice almost assuming her lecturing tone but colored with a haze of arousal, “This is so magically powerful… the ritual of marriage…the sacrifice of a bride to her bridgegroom… a blood sacrifice of a virgin bride. Powerful light magic, love magic, blood magic, sex magic, invoking even the magic of creation.”

Harry didn’t respond except with his hands, easing the dress over her rounded hips and letting it slide to the floor. Hermione stepped out of it, gesturing and sending it zooming to the wardrobe. Harry stood and wrapped his arms around her, again nuzzling into her neck. Her eyes were drawn to their image in the mirror. She was almost nude, wearing only a white garter belt, white stockings, and high heel shoes. Her chestnut hair was still on top of her head with only loose curls draping over her neck and shoulders, nothing to hide her breasts or her pale pink nipples, currently darker with arousal and very erect. Her flat tummy…for now anyway… without a hair on it, her sex wet and open behind the sheer silk of her knickers. Harry was gorgeous, still completely dressed in his dress robes, as she’d intentionally left him. Dark robes against the pallor of his skin, his raven hair adorably messy and his green eyes on fire with love and lust for her. She shivered, not because of cold, but because circumstances were coming together so perfectly to inflame her arousal. Telling him what she’d done, leaving herself vulnerable to him was like an aphrodisiac. She found herself talking without even knowing what she was saying.

“I want you to take me, to use me, however you want me. It’s our first time and I should be asking you to be gentle, but I don’t want to. I get to feel it as me and as you and I want you to just take me even if it hurts. I want to walk into the Great Hall tomorrow and have everyone notice that I’m walking funny, because you’ve left me so sore I can barely sit. I want you in me, I’ve waited so long for it and I want it…”

Harry hushed her turned-on babble by grabbing her shoulder and turning her to kiss her. Her words had obviously enflamed his passions, too, because he was already rougher than his usual almost too-careful self, mashing his lips against hers so hard she knew they’d both be puffy and reddened. He slipped his tongue into her mouth as she pressed herself as hard against him as she could. She loved that he was still fully dressed while she was almost naked. She wanted pictures of this moment and wondered if you could take pictures in a pensieve. She wrapped her legs around him when he picked her up and walked her to the bed, throwing her down. Her breath left her in a gasp, whether from the impact with the mattress or her lust. Her hair spilled out of the careful arrangement, tendrils escaping everywhere. Harry removed her heels and then stood at the edge of the bed, carefully undressing himself while she watched. At first she pushed her legs together, trying to give him the image of the innocent virginal bride in her wedding bed, but she couldn’t resist letting her legs fall to the side. She knew the damp silk didn’t hide much at all and his eyes on her had an almost physical weight as he obviously tried to memorize every line of her body.

Her conscious mind was almost completely overwhelmed, disappearing into the subconscious desires, the loud voice of her reason for once drowned by an even louder voice, but she was still Hermione-enough to notice the sheer force of magic being generated by the convergence of so many sources of ancient magic and her wards meant to magnify all of it. She had one moment to wonder whether she’d overdone it a bit before Harry finished undressing and she felt his body against hers.

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The Headmaster stood on the balcony with his deputy. Together, the two powerful magi contemplated the surrounding magical environment. Power was subtly streaming towards Hogwarts, the pace increasing with every second.

“I wonder if she knows what she has done.” Dumbledore said.

“Miss Granger?” McGonagall asked, “I mean Mrs. Potter? Does that girl ever fail to do her research?”

“Yes, but research will only tell you so much.” Dumbledore said, “I don’t think either of them has realized to what extent Harry has been a node of light side magic. It is that which draws the phoenix. As I taught them early on, magic begets more magic and his magic is attractive to light side magic. She has designed wards to amplify that and purposefully done it at a moment already steeped in power.”

“Trust in the girl, Albus.” Minerva said calmly.

“I do, but I think we will all be audience members at a spectacle to dwarf even the wonderful ceremony we saw earlier.” Dumbledore said, looking out over the horizon and the streams of magic that flowed ever more swiftly towards Hogwarts.

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Harry crawled onto the bed, his body thin but powerful, every muscle etched by hard work and magical enhancement. He grabbed the sides of Hermione’s knickers, briefly considering ripping them off, but realizing he would rather have them as a souvenir, something else to remember what would be one of the peak moments in his life. He eased them off her hips, his gentle touch as much a testament to his feelings as any poem. Hermione could feel the raging passion mixed with the gentlest love all over the bond and knew her own emotions were just as tangled. Love, arousal, fear, more desire than she could ever describe…this moment was one of the first she could recall where the complexity of her overactive brain didn’t matter, because it was buried in the moment.

He crawled up the bed, sliding into the space between her widely spread legs. He started at her feet, running his hands over the pointed toes of her stocking clad feet and along the smooth muscles of her calves. He caressed her bent knees and felt the outsides of her thighs with his hands. He dipped his mouth to kiss the inner thighs, kissing her first through the thin silk and then above the stockings, against her silken skin. She gasped, anticipation raising her sensitivity to where she half thought he’d gone straight for her middle. They could both smell her arousal, her musky scent heavy in the room. She was so dripping wet she would have been embarrassed if she had any shame left, but she didn’t. She had surrendered it with everything else to him. She was his, however he wanted her, and he’d made her so wet she had wondered if their wedding guests would smell her scent even past the thick gown and the smell of the wedding flowers.

Harry kissed his way up her inner thigh, barely running his tongue along her folds. He didn’t even think about lingering, feeling her urgency as if it was his own. Their minds were so synchronous that it was becoming hard to recall whose body was whose. Their magic was flowing as powerfully as they’d ever dared before, but the level of flow now that would have ripped screaming orgasms from them by force before, was just raising their arousal, higher and higher. It was like there was some barrier between them and climax, but it wasn’t bad. Instead it was letting sensation build like water behind a dam and at some point the dam would break. As high as it was rising, she wasn’t sure she could take the release. Particularly because as high as the magic was flowing now, she had a vague sense that it could flow so much stronger and faster.

She felt his mouth move over her belly, over her ribs, pull in a nipple and release it. Every inch of her body felt like the sensitivity had been turned to high. Her senses were in overdrive. She could smell her lover, smell the outdoorsy scent of him, like fresh cut grass and wind and flying. She grabbed his messy black hair in her hands, pulling his mouth to where she wanted it, running just the tip of her tongue over his lips before diving into his mouth. She kissed him, focusing on their mouths to shut out the almost unbearable wonder of his body sliding over hers as he got into position between her spread legs. She could feel his throbbing hardness as it pressed into her leg, slid over her sex, and bounced against her as he moved. She knew exactly how big it was and knew it was going to be a very tight fit for her unused sex. She wasn’t sure why that thought was arousing instead of scary, but right now it was.

“I mean it, Harry.” She whispered urgently in his ear after she finally broke off the kiss, “I want you to take me. Don’t be gentle. Don’t worry about hurting me, because you can’t. I want you to be rough. I want to wake up sore from you. I want you to spend in me and fall asleep feeling it drip out, wondering whether you made me a mum. I’m yours and I want you to take me.”

Harry could feel her complete sincerity through the bond, so his conscience didn’t twinge. He knew she would be even hotter if he teased her, though.

“Take you hard?” Harry asked, “Take your virginity hard? Ram my cock into you?”

“Merlin, yes!” Hermione urged, on the edge of climax as Harry continued to push magic through the bond as he positioned himself. She felt his head nudge between her slick labia, wedging itself in her virgin slit. He carefully positioned himself so the head was just inside, barely pushing on her hymen.

“This is further than we’ve ever been.” Harry said, looking down at his bride, spread lewdly in front of him.

Hermione just nodded, trying to wiggle her hips to get him deeper in her, whining a bit when it stretched her hymen.

“So you want me to just take you?” Harry teased.

Hermione nodded.

“Fuck your cunt and spend in you, even though you may get knocked up?”

She nodded and tried to grasp him with her ankles, but he stayed just far enough away.

“Then beg me.” Harry said.

Hermione’s eyes got wide, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Oh, please, Harry, give it to me. Take me. Use me.”

Harry stared into her eyes, emerald green locking with deep brown. He could see the pleading look in her eyes as she trembled on the edge of release and couldn’t resist her. He thrust home in one rough motion. Her eyes never left his, never closed, just widened a bit more as her mouth opened as wide as it had ever been and she cried out in orgasm. The intrusion hurt, he could feel that, and her orgasm would never have been possible outside of magic, but with magic and the bond, with having been on the edge for so long, with the sheer kinky naughtiness of surrendering herself ultimately to the one she loved most in the world, she came as hard as she’d ever come. He pulled out and slammed home again, her hips bucking against his, making the second thrust even deeper than the first. She almost lifted him off the bed with the force of her return thrusts, bucking into him, their bodies making wet slapping sounds against each other.

Their magical bond, widened by almost two years of constant use, completed, triggered by their marriage and physical union. From a thick connection between their cores, it opened as wide as possible, their auras blending into each other, indistinguishable at this close distance. The magic flowing between them increased until their entire core was cycling through the couple constantly.

Power hummed through the wards and the runes lit up in gold and green fire, overshadowing the firelight in the room. Neither of them noticed the inflow, they were so caught up in each other they couldn’t distinguish it from the increased flow from themselves.

The energy began pulsing in time to their heartbeats or their thrusts; it was hard to tell which since they were almost perfectly synchronized. Hermione was writhing and bucking under Harry, coming with each thrust or continuously, since each blended into the next seamlessly. Eyes locked together, they shared their minds, their magics, and their bodies. Finally complete, it was as if they were two souls inhabiting one mind, one body, and one massive magical core. It was a way of communing they’d never experienced and they were lost in each other.

Hedwig sat on her perch within the circle, singing a ringing song of power with the same beat and guarding her chosen.

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Albus and Minerva continued to stand on his balcony, looking over the dark and silent grounds. The streams of magic flowing into Hogwarts had become giant cables of power and Gryffindor tower was pulsing to some regular beat, waves of light magic rolling off the tower like heat waves and being drawn back by Hermione’s wards. Dumbledore had been able to feel it for several minutes, but it was increasing in intensity constantly. McGonagall was now able to feel it and soon it would be above the threshold for even the students to feel, especially in Gryffindor Tower.

“Will it have any ill effects?” McGonagall asked.

“No.” Dumbledore said, “It is very clearly filtered light magic and will not have any deleterious effects. I am afraid there is an element of wild magic, sex magic, that may have a tendency to make our students a bit…randy. We may need to alert the Heads of House to increase patrols tonight.”

McGonagall flushed slightly, nodded, and hurried away to make arrangements. Dumbledore continued to stand on the balcony, looking out over the grounds, thinking and hoping that Hermione’s plans worked as she hoped.

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Ron looked out over the grounds, as well. Harry and Hermione’s closest friends had been restless after the ceremony. They’d spent time dancing and talking with the other guests, but they’d soon wandered off and ended up at the top of the astronomy tower, where they sat under the permanent warming charms and looked around.

“Do you feel that?” Luna asked.

“What?” Ron replied.

“Something is beginning.” Luna said, her eyes almost unfocused, attention on something none of the others could see.

“Is it Death Eaters?” Neville asked, ready to activate the DA. He’d feared that Voldemort would use the wedding as a trigger to attack Hogwarts and had been primed to defend the castle and his friends all night.

“No…” Luna said, “Something Hermione’s done. Can’t you feel the pulsing?”

“I…think so.” Ginny offered, “Like a heartbeat.”

Luna nodded, holding her hands out as if trying to feel the warmth from a fire.

“It’s getting stronger.” Luna mused, “Everyone will be able to feel it soon.”

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Harry and Hermione stood in their shared mindscape. Their avatars were as nude as their actual bodies were, clothed only in their continuously pulsing auras. They’d found their conscious minds manifesting fully here.

“Why are we here?” Hermione asked, “This isn’t part of what I planned.”

“Maybe it is.” Harry offered, now knowing Hermione’s plan through their completed bond, “I’m being drawn, let’s follow and see where.”

Hermione nodded, for once not complaining he wasn’t thinking things through. She’d already done the preparation, maybe now it was time to wing it.

They quickly walked into the tower of Harry’s mind, the defenses not slowing their master. A stairway led down.

“This wasn’t here before.” Harry offered unnecessarily. Their towers had been designed to the same plans and neither had a basement, since that portion had a negative connotation to potions and Snape’s long term abuse.

They walked down the stairway, which descended deep into a barely lit region of dark stone walls. The only light was from their own auras which seemed to push back the darkness. It fled reluctantly, pushed back as if by force. Cold seemed to radiate from the single room, a heavy steel door carved with runes and glowing the emerald green of Harry’s magic.

“The door is yours.” Hermione said, examining it closely, “It looks like it was made to lock something in, not to keep you out.”

Harry nodded. “I think this is it.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. Why hadn’t she realized?

“Of course. It’s a symbolic representation of how you’ve unconsciously walled off the soul fragment. You’ve been walling it off for most of your life, Harry. It might not be safe to open the door…”

“It’s not safe.” Harry said, “I can feel that. But how else can we get to it to destroy it? You’ve gone to all the effort of designing this ritual to give us the best chance of destroying it. We’ll never be able to duplicate this…” with this he gave her a lust-filled look as they both thought about their bodies still locked in embrace, time outside passing at an unknown rate as they focused inside, “it’s now or never.”

Hermione bit her lip, but nodded. He was right. She’d designed the ritual to funnel power to their effort at destroying it, but she’d thought the destruction would happen automatically as light magic flooded through Harry. His description of how seeing her alive in the Ministry and his love for her chasing Voldemort out of his mind had made her think that something similar but even more powerful might be enough to banish the soul fragment from him. She hadn’t realized it would take this form.

Harry reached out and opened the door. Giant Mithril rods locking the door slid from their extended position and the door swung open. They walked in and the door closed behind them with a solid thunk. In front of them, a thin black robed man shape sat on a black throne. Only his face and his hands were easily visible, pale in the dim light from their auras. Light seemed to stream off them and be drawn to him, disappearing into the black nimbus around him. He looked up and Voldemort’s red eyes looked at them.

“Ah, Harry Potter. Finally, we meet again.”

“Do you look forward to your destruction so much, Tom?” Harry asked, stepping forward confidently.

“How old are you now?” Voldemort asked, standing from his throne, “I was able to monitor the rest of your mind for many years, but you have become more…closed to me lately. It has become difficult to gauge the passage of time.”

“Old enough.” Harry said, “Given that I defeated you at a year of age, again at eleven, again at twelve. I actually lose count.”

Voldemort glared, “Upstart boy! You have never defeated me. A setback at most, but I have a foothold in your own mind. I have drawn your own power from you and become strong. I will destroy your mind and take your body for myself.”

Looking at this version of Voldemort, Hermione began to realize how the Horcruxes worked. The diary Horcrux had represented Tom Riddle as he was as a student. Because he’d been locked into a diary, undisturbed until Ginny Weasley began writing in it, he only knew what his younger self knew and what Ginny had told him. This version was different. He’d lived in Harry’s mind and had been able to take information and power from his host. He’d continued to develop for the past decade and a half while Harry’s mind had continued battling him unconsciously, aided by his mother’s protection. Cut off from the outside, this fragment of the greatest Dark Lord in history had developed in a different way. Looking at him, it was clear he was even paler than Voldemort usually was and his teeth appeared sharper. This version was a vampire, having specialized in how to draw energy from his host.

“Harry!” Hermione cried out, “Be careful, he’s a vampire!”

Voldemort laughed.

“Vampires would presume to claim me as one of theirs.” He hissed, “True, locked in this wasteland I have been forced to develop my abilities to steal power from my enemy. All of my magic, limited in utility and focused on this one end. I have mastered all the ways to draw energy, to steal it, and to utilize it. You will soon learn that my intellect and power devoted to a single direction for so long is unstoppable.”

Voldemort made a threatening gesture and Harry dodged to the side, throwing out his hand and sending a stream of SPEARs at the dark wizard. They impacted on the black nimbus that surrounded him and disappeared, their power disappearing into the void that only became visible due to the energy vanishing into it.

“You merely make me stronger.” Voldemort laughed, “Please, send me more!”

Harry thought a moment and then yelled, “Expecto Patronum!”. Prongs appeared and charged Voldemort, but was ripped apart on hitting the barrier, his substance being drawn into wisps of light similar to a non-corporeal Patronus and was sucked into the void.

Voldemort grimaced. “Not my favorite sustenance, but far from damaging me, it also strengthens me. Face it, boy. Anything you hit me with will just feed me. I will never let you leave this room. You will die here and I will emerge to take over your body. The great Harry Potter will become the next Dark Lord only to be revealed to be Voldemort all along.”

Hermione had spent the time trying more subtle methods of defeating the shield. She’d cast every dispelling charm she knew at it and each was sucked into the shield, feeding it. She’d gently explored the shield, thinking to try the same technique Harry had used to pry the Horcruxes out of their hosts, but every wisp of magic she directed at the shield was drawn in without accomplishing anything.

Harry shook his head, denying the dark wizard’s words. His face didn’t acknowledge them otherwise and he circled, looking for an opening. After a moment he circled towards Hermione and held out his hand.

“It doesn’t matter what I throw at you.” He said, verbalizing his realization, “We’re in my mind. Spells mean nothing here. I am master here. You can absorb energy, but you must have a limit.”

“You cannot fathom how much power I can wield, Harry Potter.” Voldemort smiled.

“Well, let’s test that.” Harry said, grasping Hermione’s hand. Together they pointed their other hands and white fire shot forward, crashing into Voldemort’s black shield, which sucked their power in and grew even more black. The couple increased their efforts and a solid bar of white fire disappeared into the blackness.

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Luna stared almost sightlessly straight ahead. The powerful throbbing was now easily felt by each inhabitant of the castle as if Hogwarts had developed a heartbeat. It felt…interesting. As if the essence of phoenix song was mixed with firewhiskey and turned into sound. It beat at each of them, making them even more restless. It felt strong, powerful, good, and somehow sexual. The beams of energy flowing into the castle had increased proportionately, seeming somehow to feed the pulsing.

“They’ve found him.” She said absently.

“Him?” Ron asked, “Him who?”

“Voldemort.” Luna said.

“What?!” Neville said, leaping to his feet, “We have to help them!” Only Ron’s hand on his arm kept him from running down the stairs.

“No, we’ll be just as much help here.” Luna said, “Be ready.”

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Harry and Hermione were limned in white fire as they poured their magical energy into Voldemort’s shield. The shield was vampiric in nature, absorbing and recycling every erg of power directed at it. The room itself was growing colder and darker as the shield absorbed even ambient heat to strengthen itself more. Such a shield couldn’t be destroyed unless it could be overloaded, because it turned every attack into more strength to resist.

Every channel in both of them was open to the maximum, pouring their own energy into the shield. The power gained through their marriage, the power gained through Hermione’s sacrifice of her entire self to her husband, the power being sent to them from the natural ley lines and light magic sources all over were pouring into Voldemort’s shield. The shield absorbed it all and seemed to grow even more powerful.

Harry looked at Hermione and they conferred without speech. They reached the same conclusion. This was their best chance to destroy the fragment and if they failed, there wouldn’t be a second chance other than Harry’s death. Either they beat him here or Harry had to die, which would take Hermione with him. So there was nothing to lose.

“You can’t win.” Harry said calmly, still pouring power into his attack on Voldemort’s shield, “I’ll die before I let you win and if I die, you’ll die since I’m your host.”

“You can’t defeat me!” Voldemort shouted, “I will draw in all your power and use it to lock your soul into your body while I control it! You will never reach the limit my shield can absorb.”

Surprisingly Harry laughed, an open confident laugh.

“You know why you’re wrong, Tom?” Harry asked, “Because your shield has a limit. Against it my wife has staked our love for one another and that has no limit.”

Hermione’s lip quirked upward at that. No matter what happened, she was with this man until the very end.

Both of them poured even more power into their attack. They focused their very life force at the shield and still it absorbed everything they could throw. Whether they beat it or died trying, this fragment of Voldemort would cease. Maybe with their last act they could redirect the unleashed energy through this fragment’s connection with the actual Voldemort, destroying him. Or maybe Neville would have to pick up the banner. Maybe his connection to the prophecy would be enough. They both felt themselves start to fade. Once they burned through their magic, they’d be Squibs or Muggles. Once they burned through their life force, they’d die. No matter what, they’d be sure they took at least this fragment with them.

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On top of the astronomy tower, the sky had turned overcast. Thick clouds had rolled in, obscuring the stars. The pulsing continued, now light as well as sound. The undersides of the clouds were dimly illuminated with each pulse.

The four friends sat knee to knee, watching the strange way the environment was mirroring whatever internal struggle.

“Do you feel anything new?” Ginny asked, looking at Luna. She was leaning into Neville for comfort, her arms around herself.

Luna started to shake her head no, but then her eyes opened wide.

“They’re in trouble! Quick, grab hands and try to send our energy to them!”

Luna grabbed Ron’s hand and Neville’s. Ginny completed the circle by grabbing her boyfriend and her brother. They focused on their friends and tried to send their power to help however they could.

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McGonagall had coordinated with the Head Boy and Head Girl to set up additional patrols and set the other Heads of House to also patrolling. Snape, Flitwick,and Sprout were all disturbed by what they sensed in the ambient magic. Hagrid had come up to the castle to report the Forbidden Forest was restless.

“Albus, what’s happening?” she asked, “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

He shook his head. “Nothing I can think of.”

They looked out over the thick overcast. Suddenly a tiny burst of bluish fire appeared against the clouds, looking like nothing more than lightning. Fawkes cried out behind them and they saw a similar burst of red and gold fire as he appeared in the sky. Soon tiny flashes of every color of the rainbow started flickering. A thin note of phoenix song floated on the night air, growing stronger every moment as more and more phoenices appeared.

“They’re gathering!” Dumbledore almost shouted, surprised by something completely outside of his experience.

The phoenices flew around the castle in a tight ring, their power and song palpable to the inhabitants.

“We must try to send our power to Harry and Hermione.” Dumbledore said, suddenly knowing what they must do. He grasped his Deputy Headmistress’ hand and they focused on their favorite students, sending them what aid they could.

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Harry and Hermione were almost done. They had sunk to their knees on the floor of the basement throne room in Harry’s mindscape. The room itself was beginning to flicker, the walls becoming translucent as the mindscape itself began to break up without Harry’s magic to sustain it. Still they poured their magic and their life force into the attack, knowing they’d completely deplete their available stores in seconds.

The vampiric Voldemort laughed, sitting on his throne within a black dome, easily seen against the white fire beating against it.

“You think I’ll just let you die?” he hissed, “As soon as your defenses fall, I’ll take you and keep you from dying. You’ve given me more than enough power, more than I’ve ever felt before! I don’t know where you got it all, but with riches of power like these, the entire world will fall soon after your possession. In moments your defenses will end and I’ll be able to reach my other self again. Are you ready, Harry Potter?”

Harry looked at Voldemort’s soul fragment and realized he was ready. His parents had given their lives in the fight against Voldemort. His sacrifice would carry on their legacy. He didn’t want to lose Hermione, but he’d sworn they’d be together beyond death and he believed it.

Hermione felt the same way. At a very young age she’d decided her destiny was beside this boy, now man, and she’d follow her destiny wherever it led.

Their choice to sacrifice themselves to oppose the most evil dark wizard ever seen tapped into ancient magic, similar magic to that which Harry’s mother had used, but they sacrificed themselves for the world, without even a child of their own. The utter selflessness of their actions added to the power of the sacrifice.

Voldemort quit laughing as a sound like the loudest cannon charm ever heard sounded.

“What was that?” he asked, looking around the room, which was hazy, almost completely gone.

It sounded again. The black dome had a crack in it. The crack looked like a split in some black substance with white fire behind it. As lava flowed, it developed a black crust. Sometimes that crust cracked and molten lava could be seen within. The dome looked like that as light poured out of the crack, like the sun had been covered by a black shell which had cracked. More cracks spread out through the dome, before it shattered with a sound like the ending of the world. Vampiric Voldemort was completely incinerated in the first instant, a scream like the destruction of the earlier horcruxes sounding throughout the room.

White fire poured from the shattered dome, splashing against the now very solid walls. Harry and Hermione could barely see each other, lost in the whiteness and light. It felt like the energy would incinerate them, too, but it wasn’t as inimical as it had been to Voldemort, but they still burned with it. They felt their life force and their cores filled to overflowing and more, more power than they could ever handle.

“We’ve got to use it!” Hermione cried out.

“Can we send it down the link against Voldemort?” Harry yelled.

“Was he able to open the link?” Hermione asked.

“No, I never felt it.” Harry said.

“I built the circle to handle it!” Hermione screamed, “It’s too much, just send it out!

They were suddenly back in their bodies, still in the middle of coupling. The power felt like pleasure, overflowing, too much to stand, too much to survive. They both felt themselves caught in the grip of the strongest orgasm they could have ever imagined, so powerful it was almost unpleasant, spasms so intense it felt like they’d grasped a high power electrical line at the moment of climax. Harry gave one last thrust as deeply into Hermione as he could possibly get and her legs convulsively locked around his hips, trying to pull him even further inside. He spent himself inside her and it felt like fire. Harry screamed and white fire poured from his mouth, white fire poured from his scar. They both pushed it out from them and the carefully constructed wards funneled it upwards, away from them and the other inhabitants of the castle.

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Ginny gaped as a pillar of white fire shot into the sky from the side of Gryffindor tower. It shot through the clouds, instantly burning them off, then splashed against the dome of the Hogwarts wards, which lit up the grounds like it was daylight and beyond, shadows dancing wildly. The phoenices flew around in a circle around the flaming pillar, singing a song of victory.

“They did it.” Luna said, opening her eyes.

“You think?” Ron asked, open mouthed.

Neville couldn’t even speak, looking wildly around.

“Do we need to check on them?” Ginny asked, hesitantly.

“No, I don’t think they’d welcome that right now.” Luna said, “I think we’ll see them in the morning.”

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Dumbledore and McGonagall gaped as the pillar of fire shot from the addition to Gryffindor Tower into the sky.

“Merlin!” McGonagall exclaimed, “Are they ok?”

Dumbledore glanced at his desk, seeing his instruments still functioning, he nodded.

“Harry’s fine and if he’s fine then Hermione is, too. Better than fine if my instruments are accurate, I think they succeeded.”

They both stared as the pillar of fire lasted for minutes before fading, leaving an afterimage on their sight for some time afterwards. Sparks began again against the little remaining overcast, as the phoenices slowly began to leave the gathering.

“No such gathering has been recorded before. I think we are the first to see it.” Dumbledore said.

“I thought his father and his friends had surprises for me.” McGonagall said, stunned.

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Harry rolled off Hermione, both of their bodies bathed in sweat. They both caught their breath, feeling physically exhausted, but content and magically replete. After their breathing had slowed a little, Hermione curled into Harry’s side, wincing a bit as she felt a bit of soreness.

“Is that how you thought it would be?” Harry asked, meaning the wards and the ritual circle.

Hermione giggled, then started fully laughing.

“No, Harry, I never quite imagined my first time would be like that!”

Harry had to laugh, too.

Once she’d gotten control of herself again, Hermione reached out to trace Harry’s scar.

“It already looks less angry.” She observed, “How do you feel?”

“Amazing!” Harry said, “My mind feels so much clearer. It’s like I had a permanent buzzing in my head and now it’s gone, although that’s not quite it, either. I feel you more clearly, too.”

Hermione smiled at him, tracing the rest of his face with her hand.

“How about you?” Harry asked, “Are you all right?”

“Oh, I’m ok.” Hermione said, smiling, “A bit tender, but feel really good, too. It feels like you tried to wring every drop of pleasure out of me you possibly could.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry said gently.

“Don’t be.” Hermione said, “I asked you to do it. I don’t quite know what I was thinking, but it was really one of those peak experiences. I don’t think we would have won without every scrap of energy, either, so it might have saved our lives.”

Harry nodded and pulled his new bride tighter into his side.

“I’m sleepy now.” Hermione mumbled, “But I’m not so sore that if we wake up in the night, I would mind much if we tried that again.”

Harry smiled, “I think I’d like that. This time without the soul fragment part.”

Hermione’s breathing came regularly and he knew she was asleep. The smile spread across his face as he enjoyed feeling her mind attached to his, without the malevolent presence he’d never consciously recognized. He drifted off to sleep, completely content for once in his life.

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A/N: This chapter meant a lot to me, so it caused a bit of writer’s block. I also feel like I hit not quite the right note with the last chapter. I’m not completely disappointed with it, but I definitely understood the criticisms. I am taking Hermione OOC but trying to do it as a development of her character rather than a complete change, if that makes sense.

In this chapter I wanted to accomplish two things, the wedding and the destruction of Harry’s Horcrux, the project Hermione’s been researching for so long. I hope you like it.

There may be quite a delay until the next chapter. This is a natural stopping place for a little while. The rest of this school year should progress pretty uneventfully. We’ll have a slower chapter where they take their OWLs and head home, then summer, then the next year. I plan for the story to reach a natural conclusion in the next year, although I may still write subsequent stories in this universe.

Please give feedback, but be gentle, this one is one of my babies.

33. OWLs

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Harry Potter characters or plot. I don’t make money and just write for my enjoyment and hopefully for yours.

Chapter 33: OWLs

May 2

Hermione stretched, enjoying the overall boneless feeling she had. She was definitely sore, her muscles feeling like they’d been overworked, her body feeling like she’d been in a marathon wrestling match, and a throbbing between her legs. Her phoenix abilities had tried to heal her and she’d had to consciously fight it. There would only be one morning like this one and she was going to experience it. She remembered waking a number of times in the night, either because Harry had initiated something or because she’d woken horny and initiated something. Once she woke in the midst of the act and together they realized neither knew who’d started it, they’d just come together unconsciously in their sleep. Hermione hoped there would be many other nights like that. Maybe not exactly like that, but the love and passion was wonderful.

More than the physical sensations, the emotion she felt was a cause of even more joy. She’d married Harry! They’d defeated the soul fragment lodged in his scar and he was free instead of dead, as the great Albus Dumbledore with all his information on horcruxes had thought he’d have to be to dislodge the fragment. Her face stretched in a huge smile before she could control it. They’d won the hardest fight and could now concentrate on finishing this struggle without their own more literal version of the Sword of Damocles hanging over their heads.

She looked over and found Harry’s emerald eyes calmly watching her. She was surprised, because she hadn’t sensed his awareness through the bond. She caught a hint of humor and his lips quirked upwards.

“You were enjoying yourself too much to pay attention.” Harry murmured happily, “I was enjoying you enjoying it. I can’t wait to watch you wake every morning.”

“I usually wake before you do.” Hermione said, lightly slapping his chest, but quickly giving up and just letting her hand stroke him.

“Not this morning.” Harry said smiling, “I was just about to wake you or we’d miss breakfast.”

“Hmmmmm….” Hermione murmured, stretching again, “I’m not surprised I slept in. With all the worry I had about the fragment, all the excitement of the wedding, all the physical and magical exertion… I’m half surprised we didn’t wake up three days later like you usually do after your little adventures.”

“I actually feel really energized.” Harry said, “I think the horcrux was drawing energy off me my whole life. Once I got better at defending myself, it still required energy. It was also a… I don’t even know how to say it. A blackness…a stain…a wrongness. I feel less confused, less angry. I feel more myself if that makes sense.”

Hermione nodded, “However you describe it makes sense. You’re the expert. I doubt any other living person has ever had a horcrux in his head.”

She kissed Harry, a close mouthed smooch to spare him her morning breath. He shook his head and wandlessly cast a cleaning charm on both their mouths and then kissed her properly.

“We can keep brushing our teeth if it’s really important to you, but if magic makes sure I get a good morning kiss, we’ll do that, too.” Harry said firmly.

Hermione smiled at her husband and gave him another deep kiss.

“I don’t suppose I can complain about that.” She said and slipped out of the bed. Again stretching, she walked slowly to their attached bathroom. Hermione could feel Harry’s eyes on her and far from making her feel self-conscious, it made her feel beautiful and appreciated. The sensation she felt through the bond was more akin to worship that appreciation, which did cause her to blush. At least it was mutual.

“Are you coming?” she said with a saucy grin and an extra sway to her hips.

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Normally the Great Hall on Saturday morning would be emptier than on a weekday as some students had a lie in, some ate at their usual time, and overall spread the breakfast numbers over a longer period. This morning there was a sense of expectation. The strange events of the night before had everyone buzzing and they’d gathered in the Great Hall hoping to catch a glimpse of the Potters. Nobody knew for a fact they had anything to do with the strange magical pulsing the night before, but it was their wedding night and even without that, most odd happenings at Hogwarts could eventually be associated with Potter in some way.

Hermione walked in on Harry’s arm, smiling. It was their first morning as a married couple and she felt fulfilled and happy. Despite being generally an introvert, this feeling was so strong she actually felt like being around other people to share her happiness. She also felt like being around others would make it feel more real, less like a good dream she would wake up from.

She blushed a little as she realized she was walking a little gingerly. She’d told Harry she wanted him to leave her walking funny so everyone knew what they’d done and he had. They had. Now she got to reap the knowing looks from the older students. The feeling of his seed seeping into her knickers wasn’t anything any of them could notice, but it added to her embarrassment, which in her was strangely linked to her randiness. In a very proper way, this was a walk of shame and she enjoyed it.

“Finally decide to come to breakfast?” Ginny teased.

“Long night.” Harry said, yawning, then turned red as he realized what he’d said.

“Too much information, Mate.” Ron kidded. Neville just sat grinning a bit, silently enjoying the banter but not feeling the need to add to it.

“We all felt it, though.” Luna said, “We felt you beat him. We sent energy to try to help.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. She cast a quick privacy charm to let them speak and then looked at Luna expectantly. Luna told them the whole story from their viewpoint atop the astronomy tower. Hermione listened intently and then explained they’d destroyed the horcrux.

“Destroying a horcrux as your first action as a married couple,” Luna said, “they say how you start something is how you’ll keep going, so I suppose that’s a good sign.”

The others laughed.

“What are you doing now?” Neville asked.

“We’re going away for the rest of the weekend.” Harry said, “We just wanted to see our friends before we left. We’ll be back Sunday night to start classes at the normal time Monday.”

Hermione wondered what he’d planned. Harry had planned their honeymoon, including this short ‘appetizer’ weekend, but he’d kept the plans secret from her. He told her she wouldn’t need to pack clothes, but otherwise hadn’t told her anything.

They walked up to their room and Harry pulled out a portkey Dumbledore had enchanted for him.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked.

“As ready as I can be when you haven’t told me where we’re going!” Hermione humphed.

Harry gave her a sly half-grin. “Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it.”

They held the portkey together and Harry tapped it to activate it. They had the uncomfortable sensation associated with portkey travel and as they appeared, they carefully kicked their legs to land upright in the soft sand. Hermione looked around, easily recognizing Hidden Bay.

“Oh, Harry, it’s perfect!” Hermione exclaimed, “This is exactly where I would want to spend a few days with you.”

“I know.” Harry smirked, “Come on, let me show you what I’ve done.”

He guided them over to small copse of palm trees that looked a little different from the others.

“Neville helped me grow these. They’re special Dragon Palms. They only grow where there’s abundant Dragon dung for fertilizer. We had to provide that and with some spells he knew we were able to grow them to full size in a few months. The neat thing about them is they’re very tolerant of transfiguration spells.”

Harry concentrated, taking a few deep breaths to center himself. With the Elder Wand he made a complicated but crisp wand movement and spoke a long incantation. The Dragon Palms blurred and in their place was a small teak building with open sides.

“Whew, that’s a difficult one.” Harry said, “Dumbledore taught me and I’ve been practicing so I’d get it right.”

The Black Isle House Elves had obviously been expecting them, because soon the open sides were covered by diaphanous curtains that blew in the tropical breezes. As Harry led her inside, Hermione could see the House Elves had already furnished it.

“When we’re done, the furniture can be returned to the main house and this can be returned to the native Dragon Palm forms.” Harry explained, “So we’re not changing the natural beauty of the place.”

Hermione hugged Harry. He knew exactly what she would have wanted for their special place.

Harry squeezed her back and kissed her deeply. She responded eagerly, exploring his mouth with her tongue. While they kissed, Harry unfastened her school tie, her oxford shirt, and dropped both beside the bed. She started working on his shirt while he unfastened her plaid skirt and dropped it. She tried to catch up, grabbing at his belt and trousers, but he pulled away so he could remove his shoes. Soon they were both nude. The feeling of the ocean breezes blowing in through the open walls was amazing, as was the sound of the surf right outside.

“I love you, Harry.” Hermione said, trying desperately to communicate how much she meant that, not just as something to say but as the central fact of her life.

“I love you, Hermione.” Harry said, his eyes showing his understanding and complete reciprocation. She could feel his amazement and happiness that she could feel the same way for him as he felt for her. He was still overcoming his upbringing and she could tell he didn’t feel like he deserved her love, but he was so thankful for this miracle it made her heart break that this lovable man could ever think he didn’t deserve her.

She turned him and with a hand against his muscular chest pushed him back onto the bed.

“I get to be on top this time, Potter.” She said in a husky voice.

He crawled more to the center of the bed and she crawled after him, straddling his hips. He reached for her sex to caress her, but she grabbed his wrists and pushed them above his head.

“No need. I’m ready.” Hermione said, raising herself up above him. She had to release one of his hands, because she wasn’t yet skilled enough at this to position him without a free hand. With one small hand around him she brushed his glans against her wet labia, using him to stroke herself and wetting him in the process. He took his free hand and caressed the side of her face, staring intently into her eyes. She locked eyes with him and pushed back and down onto him, feeling as his large cock pushed into her. Hermione wasn’t sore anymore. Her body had healed when she’d stopped attending to keeping it from doing so and this entry was pure pleasure with no pain. There was still a stretching sensation as her body wasn’t completely used to being filled, but she enjoyed it.

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione gasped as she settled completely against him, her thighs resting on his hipbones.

“This is so good.” Harry gasped, “I’m glad we waited, but if I had known how good it was going to be, I don’t think I could have.”

“Me, either.” Hermione admitted as she started moving, riding her husband.

Harry watched as Hermione’s athletic body tensed and relaxed, her medium size breasts bouncing slightly with each movement. He doubted anyone at school would ever imagine what the swot at the top of the school rankings was hiding under her uniform. The hard physical training Ashdown had put them through and the magical enhancements they’d both undergone had changed them. Hermione was probably fitter than any of the others, except maybe Ginny or Luna, who’d gone through much the same training. He was happy to keep this as his secret. If a few close friends had been surprisingly brought in, if he occasionally caught Dean or Seamus giving her a look when they thought nobody was watching, all the better, because he knew she was his.

He relished his own abilities. All the physical and magical training had left him in control of himself. Instead of feeling barely capable of holding back until he could give her the minimum pleasure he thought she deserved, he knew he could go as long as she wanted, either postponing his own climax or letting it wash over him with no wilting. His body was under his control not the other way around and he loved to use it for her enjoyment.

They matched their rhythm to each other and to the rhythmic pounding of the surf outside. Hermione rode Harry, watching his face lovingly as he watched her. She rode to climax after climax, their bodies and their magic in perfect harmony. She bent down and kissed him, snogging him senseless and just letting their bodies gently rock against each other. Finally, after what was probably hours, she picked up the pace, slamming against him. He pushed back into her, lifting her off the bed. They came together more and more rapidly, more and more intensely as they built up to a powerful finish. Hermione felt her entire body tensing and was happy Hidden Bay was so private as she cried aloud for only the ocean to hear. She collapsed on Harry, their sweat slicked bodies pressed together comfortably.

Hermione wasn’t sure if she’d dozed or not. She knew she was thirsty and noticed a pitcher of ice water with a single cup beside the bed. The House Elves were in total stealth mode, meeting all their needs without being seen.

The couple spent the rest of the weekend making love, sleeping, eating, and swimming in the sea. Everything they could want, from romantic dinners to sun protection potion was always waiting for them when they needed it, but they never saw another soul.

While they at Hidden Bay, Hermione ended the minor confundus she’d cast on herself and realized she hadn’t been in a fertile period. She cast the pregnancy detection spell on herself to be sure. She was both relieved and a little sad to see the negative result. Now was not the best time, both due to their education and more importantly due to the ongoing fight against Voldemort, but she wasn’t the same girl she had been, who had always listened to her head. Her heart was not completely rational and so she was a little disappointed she’d have to delay giving Harry what he’d always wanted most in life, a family. Harry hugged her close, supporting her through her brief disappointment and letting her know he wasn’t unhappy. They had many years to start their family and while he wouldn’t have been disappointed if they’d been surprised, he was also content to wait, knowing she wouldn’t make him wait forever. She restarted the contraception potion, looking forward to a future day when she’d stop it for good.

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May 3

They used the return portkey to their private quarters. Hermione hadn’t opened a single book during their brief vacation. She’d never imagined she would be able to refrain this close to their OWLs, but she was totally wrapped up in her husband and exploring their newly completed physical relationship. She’d learned her body needed attention too and she was able to tell her mind to be patient.

Now that they were back, though, it was time to get started and really focus on preparation. Harry appreciated that she’d delayed to let them have the weekend with no studying, so he was quick to help her when they returned. They grabbed their work and went to the Gryffindor common room. A few quick greetings and welcomes, suitable for their brief absence, and then they were installed at a table with Hermione’s schedule laid out in front of them.

She looked like she wasn’t studying, as she had her eyes closed as did Harry. They were busy exploring their minds and memories, though, and communicating through the bond. Hermione was refining their revision schedule, checking off areas that she could tell they were strong in and expanding areas where she noted weakness. By bedtime, she had the revision schedule edited to her satisfaction.

“You know we’re way past ready already, now, don’t you?” Harry asked, “We’ve read the books on preparing for the OWLs and we know everything they suggest might be on it.”

Hermione gave him a peeved look, then relented.

“I know, Harry.” Hermione sighed, “We each have our quirks. Please tolerate this one of mine. I’ll be much happier if we follow my revision schedule. It may seem painful, but I’ll be much more pleasant to be around when it actually comes exam time if we do it this way.”

Harry smiled at his wife.

“I was never suggesting otherwise.” Harry said, “I’m all for being over prepared, too. I just want you to know we’re already ready, so you don’t feel driven to anxiety over studying.”

Hermione smiled back and nodded.

“I know and if something comes up that you need time for, like Quidditch or defense or just time with me, say so. I know we can afford the time and if you’re willing to study hard with me the rest of the time, I won’t complain if we sometimes have to ease off to do something else.”

“That’s fair.” Harry said, “Ready for bed?”

“Of course.” Hermione said giving him a sidelong look.

They both had the same thought and hurried to their room, to bed but not to sleep.

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May 4

Remus woke, his face and body pressed against the cold stone floor. He ached all over. The Wolfsbane potion made his transformations much less stressful, but that was only a relative improvement. At least he wasn’t waking with huge gouges and scratches on his body. Even better, he wasn’t waking with the fear that he might have harmed someone during his period of mindlessness.

He was tired and worn. His life had been difficult and he tried not to dwell on it, but it was hard. He’d been bitten as a child and could have ended up completely isolated, as most werewolves did, but Albus had taken a risk for a bright child and made arrangements for his education at Hogwarts. There he’d made close friends who’d invested their efforts into the animagus transformation to keep him company during his own transformation. With such good friends and an education, he was infinitely better off than most of his brethren. Fortune could rapidly become misfortune when it was taken away, though, as the lack was much more painful after experiencing something better. Despite being a Gryffindor prefect and one of the top graduates of his year, he found himself unemployable due to his condition. Wormtail’s betrayal had taken James, Lily, and Harry from him. He’d thought Wormtail dead and Sirius a traitor, so in one single day the Marauders were destroyed and he’d lost his entire adopted family. After that, he’d drifted around, barely surviving on his intellect, his education, and his enhanced physical abilities as a werewolf, but his soul had been dead.

Since meeting Harry again, his life had improved. A year of employment at Hogwarts had improved his lot, even though losing his position afterwards had been another disappointment. Learning Sirius was not the traitor was another relief. Sirius’ exoneration had been the next piece of good luck. Again, he felt like he had a family. It wasn’t perfect and it was clear to him that his life was still on hold. He and Sirius were living together as bachelor friends while they pieced their lives together. Lately, he’d been noticing Tonks. He sensed she was interested in him and while he thought the age difference was too great, it wasn’t from lack of interest on his part. He just couldn’t see what he could offer the young auror. He was only thirty-six years old, but felt much older. She was in her early twenties and even without his ‘furry little problem’ that would be an obstacle.

He stirred, dragging himself off the cold stone floor of his safe room at Grimmauld Place. With the Wolfsbane Potion he could probably have slept in his room, but he wasn’t willing to risk an ineffective potion. If he transformed without the potion, he would be immersed in pure bloodlust. While Sirius might be safe enough, due to his ability to transform into a Grim, even an animagus could be caught by surprise or while sleeping, especially by a creature who could break through walls or doors like they didn’t exist. Even if Sirius were safe, the other residents along Grimmault Place were not. A stout iron door and stone walls were reassuring and the discomfort was nothing.

He wrapped his robe around himself and found the door already unlocked. Sirius must have instructed Kreacher to open it as soon as the moon set.

Many good things had happened lately. Harry’s wedding had been beautiful and Remus was thankful he’d been able to be there, although he hadn’t felt his best so close to the full moon. They’d managed to destroy many of the horcruxes and had trained Harry to a level where he stood a chance against Voldemort. Protecting Harry, the only child of the Marauders, was his focus. Once Voldemort was defeated, maybe there would be a chance to pick up his own life, if he survived.

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Harry and Hermione focused on studying for the OWLs. Ron sighed and whined about Harry becoming too much like Hermione since his marriage, but shut up when Luna gave him a dirty look and eventually even joined their revising. Luna sat in, eager to absorb information from Hermione. Harry sometimes wondered how Luna and Hermione’s relationship worked. Luna couldn’t be different from the old Hermione, whimsical where Hermione was ultra-rational. However, they were both deeply intellectual and now that Hermione had moderated her intolerance for the irrational, the two had gravitated together. Ron’s abrupt departure over the summer and Luna’s need for a female friend who wasn’t her absent boyfriend’s sister had probably spurred the growth of their friendship. However it had happened, they were close friends now and Hermione was something of a mentor to the younger girl.

Ginny wasn’t quite as intellectual as the other two girls. She was too much of an athlete to be considered a complete swot, but she was also bright and studious. Neville needed to prepare for OWLs and studying with Hermione was the best way to do that, so Ginny did what she had to do to be around her boyfriend.

So it was a motley crew that formed for OWL revision, but surprisingly effective. Hermione was the brain of the group. Harry was just as bright now due to the bond and lent a certain athletic leadership style that worked well to bring Ron, Neville, and Ginny into the fold. Their group received envious looks from Ravenclaws when they were studying in the library. That house wasn’t used to having anyone from outside lead the academic rankings, but Hermione had done so for years and Harry had joined her recently.

As OWLs became the main subject of their studies in all of their courses, Hermione scheduled an appointment with Professor McGonagall for her and Harry. They walked to their head of house’s office and rapped on the door.

“Come in.” Professor McGonagall called out.

They walked in and took seats when directed.

“Miss G…I mean Mrs. Potter, what can I do for you?” Professor McGonagall said, “I have already approved your revision schedule as very thorough and you’re well ahead in my class.”

“Of course, Professor.” Hermione said hurriedly, “This is about something completely different. I’m concerned about cheating during the tests. The bond my husband and I share has become more and more complete as time has gone on. I have absorbed many of his abilities and talents to the point that I feel I am probably the second best Seeker at Hogwarts despite being a below average flyer before. He has similarly absorbed my abilities and traits. It’s gotten to the point where we even share memories, which are easily organized due to Professor Snape’s extensive investment in teaching us occlumency. If we want, for maximum efficiency Harry can read one book while I read another and we both retain the knowledge. While with extreme difficulty we can block the bond, that’s impractical for the exam. It would be an unfair hindrance to us, because we’d be concentrating on something outside of the material. I just don’t see how we can take the tests without cheating.”

Professor McGonagall listened carefully before a softer expression came over her face.

“Hermione, soul bonds, particularly those developed to this extent are very rare.” McGonagall explained, “Rare, however, does not mean unprecedented. Hogwarts has existed for a thousand years. We have been through this before and rules have already been developed. You are not at fault for your abilities and we don’t expect you to block your bond. That’s abhorrent. You’re a married couple and we understand that. You share the same memories and that will be a huge benefit on these exams, particularly the theory portion, just as Mr. Potter’s ability along practical lines will be a large benefit on the practical portion. You are expected to do your best. The only rule we have is that you must take the exams at the same time, to insure you do not communicate to the other who could then do further reading before taking the exam. Beyond that, there are no limitations on you.”

Hermione stared, surprised the solution was that easy and that generous to the students.

“Professor, you do realize under those rules we will both have no difficulty with these exams?”

“I expect no less, Mrs. Potter.” McGonagall said primly, “I did choose you for my apprentice. I am sure you will not disappoint me.”

Hermione nodded, the tension leaving her shoulders. Both she and Harry had a strong sense of integrity, even if his tendency to break rules sometimes hid it. Neither wanted to cheat, but it would be very difficult to isolate their individual abilities for the OWL exams.

“The soul bound have typically done well on these exams.” Professor McGonagall added, “Even when they haven’t been blessed with a perfect memory and innate talent for casting spells. Now go on. Keep studying. I will expect nothing less than outstandings for both of you.”

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Professor Snape continued working with them on refining their occlumency, pushing them to test him as much as he tested them. He continued to develop their legilimency, as well as pushing them to study for potions. Immediately before leaving his office one evening, he stopped them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” Snape said in his normal tone, so it was difficult to tell whether they were going to be on his good side or bad side, “you’re both aware that Lily Evans and I were friends.”

Severus paused, seeming to collect his thoughts.

“You are her son and heir. I have something of hers that you should have. I have noticed you have both been cross referencing multiple works on potions to supplement our imperfect textbook. Lily and I did this extensively. I think you deserve a copy of our work, since it was the fruit of her efforts as much as mine. You may come across her copies at some point. If you would share them, I would appreciate it, but I understand they may have been lost, so I made copies of mine. Please be aware there are spells listed in the margins which can be dangerous. Please do not experiment without asking me about them.”

Snape produced a stack of potion textbooks, strapped together with a leather strap. They were clearly copies.

“Thank you, Professor.” Harry said, looking wonderingly at the gift, “I truly don’t know what to say.”

“Perhaps you could actually study them, Potter.” Snape said drily, “Having at least two students who weren’t completely incompetent would its own reward. You’re dismissed. Curfew is approaching.”

Harry and Hermione rushed back to their room with the private study area. They unstrapped the books and leafed through them. The margins were filled with slight modifications and additions to the potions, many of which they’d already discovered in their studies, but some were new to them. They had discovered some that Professor Snape hadn’t seemed to document in these books whether he’d found them later, but this was rare.

“This is a treasure.” Hermione whispered, “We need to merge our notes with these into a master copy and then make sure we remember them.”

Harry nodded, agreeing, then looked up with the gleam of an idea in his eye.

“There’s a spell to copy, that’s how Snape made these, right?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

“Well, what if there was a spell to merge changes?” Harry asked, “Muggle computers can do it. I don’t see why magic couldn’t.”

Hermione looked thoughtful. She copied the books Snape had given them and copied their own.

“Here, use these, so if it doesn’t work you haven’t destroyed the originals.”

Harry took a few deep breaths and decided to use Dumbledore’s technique of intense visualization along with willing the effect he wanted. The Elder Wand was a big advantage, as it magnified anything cast through it and allowed the impossible. Harry tapped the two stacks, which disappeared, merging into a single stack.

Hermione was quickly leafing through.

“It worked!” Hermione exclaimed happily, “That will save a few hours of tedium.”

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Harry and Hermione stood in the dueling room listening to Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick describing a difficult advanced technique to multiply the effects of certain spells. They’d previously worked on how to make some spells, like stunning spells, wide angle, but other spells were very individual, like Hermione’s black hole spell. With slight modification, the spell could be used to generate more than one black hole at a time. The energy requirement went up quickly, making it impractical for most duelists, but for powerful Witches and Wizards it could turn the tide of a battle.

“Power is not the only difficulty.” Dumbledore intoned, “Accuracy is also a challenge. Placing a single spell requires practice, but compared to accurately placing multiple effects with a single spell it is relatively simple. The higher multiple you use, the more difficult it becomes and even the most focused, well-trained, and powerful Wizards are generally inaccurate with anything approaching ten instances of a spell effect.”

Professor Flitwick gestured to the line of practice dummies.

“We’ll start with you attempting to cast three reductor curses with a single spell. That should be a sufficient challenge for this session.”

The couple found their teachers’ warnings were very true. Neither one of them could successfully generate three reductors at once with their first try. Even after several attempts, once they could produce three explosions with a single spell, they had difficulty aiming them, missing their intended dummies and hitting others nearby. It felt like trying to write with the left hand and the right hand at once. They practiced this seemingly simple task for almost two hours before they took a break. Walking to the side of the room, Harry noticed Alex had walked in and had been watching them.

“Alex!” Harry said, shaking his older friend’s hand, “Good to see you!”

“Glad to see you, too, Harry.” Alex said, “I see you’re still working hard.”

“Yeah, Hermione and I are trying to get the hang of this splitting technique.”

“It’s really difficult.” Alex agreed, “I’ve been working on it for years, but almost never use it in duels. It takes too much energy, is difficult to be accurate with, and can leave you exhausted. If you waste all your energy and miss anyway…well, it’s a dangerous tactic. Few duelists have used it successfully, but when it has been done, it has been impressive.”

Harry glanced at Hermione, the two absorbing the very practical lesson Alex managed to convey in just a few words. Having the very experienced duelist’s help had been invaluable.

“What have you been up to?” Hermione asked, “We haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re always in the library, Hermione.” Alex teased, “I heard you had some exams to write?”

Hermione ducked her head, but then looked back up grinning, “Maybe one or two, but that doesn’t account for not seeing you, because we’ve still been showing up here and you haven’t been. I didn’t think you’d give up the chances to duel with Harry.”

“No, nor with you.” Alex agreed, “After all this work with you two, I fully expect to be back at the top again when I return to the circuit. Unfortunately, the reason I missed a few weeks here was some trouble with some of my old friends from the dueling circuit. Doing what I’m doing and training others is a very common retirement strategy for former champion-level duelists. All the Purebloods fancy themselves as potential champions and spend a fortune on the training they think will get them there. They don’t realize that without true dedication, all the fancy training in the world won’t make you good.”

Harry and Hermione nodded, understanding exactly what the man was saying. It took hard work, quality instruction, and natural talent to progress to the highest levels. Few had the potential and fewer still would make the effort to develop it.

“So most of my old friends spend time wandering Europe training others. Some end up teaching auror forces. That’s not a bad job, since the aurors tend to be much more disciplined. They’re easier to teach, but it doesn’t pay as well. Teaching some snotty Pureblood pays more, but takes a lot of patience, the ability to flatter, and to actually get anywhere, a lot of teaching ability. I keep in touch with these guys via owl, but I noticed I wasn’t getting replies from some of my oldest friends, some of the best duelists out there. So I decided to go looking. I wasn’t able to find them. Rumor on the circuit is that they were recruited by someone very, very rich and very, very private. They were apparently sworn to the utmost in secrecy before they just disappeared and nobody’s heard of them since.”

The Potters were thinking furiously. Neither had a background in detective work, but both were very bright and had made amateur puzzle solving something of a hobby ever since they’d prevented Voldemort from stealing the Philosopher’s Stone. They’d discovered the identity of Slytherin’s monster, proved Sirius’ innocence, and exposed the fake Moody. Hermione had read the Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, and The Three Investigators. Her love of those novels had been a small part of what attracted her to her two troublemaking friends and finally overcome her natural respect for the rules and authority.

“What do you think happened?” Hermione finally asked, speaking for both of them.

“I thought they might have been killed by Esteban, the current dueling champion.” Alex admitted, “I might be biased, because I don’t like him, but that kind of interference with potential rivals isn’t unheard of in our world. If the best of the competitors can’t fight and can’t train other potential fighters, it makes Estaban’s chances of holding on to his title much greater.”

Hermione watched Alex expectantly for a few moments before speaking again, “But that’s not all you thought…”

“No,” Alex continued, “that was my initial thought, but even Estaban would have difficulty causing the number of disappearances I’ve noticed. Someone else is involved.”

The Potters kept their faces impassive, but whenever an evil plot developed around them, there was only one name associated in the end. Neither knew what significance this had, if any, but they could only imagine it was some plan of Voldemort’s. Alex must have at least suspected that was a possibility or he wouldn’t have mentioned it to them.

“Thank you.” Harry said in a mature voice, “We’ll keep our ears open. If you hear anything else, please let us know.”

Anyone watching Harry dealing the dueling champion as an equal might be surprised, but the Gryffindor had a natural aura of leadership that was only growing as his confidence in his own abilities and in Hermione’s constant support grew. The destruction of the Horcrux had freed him from some of the darkness of doubt and fear that had plagued him and he felt free to grow into his full potential. Hermione had long had the respect of all who worked closely with her, but the last two years had further developed her, too. They were becoming a formidable team with abilities and presence more characteristic of young adults rather than schoolchildren.

“Have you had enough rest, yet, or are you getting too old to continue your work?” Flitwick called out. He and Dumbledore had listened carefully to Alex’s concerns and they would add their prodigious abilities to the efforts to figure out the mystery, but for now their focus was on preparing Harry for the inevitable confrontation.

Harry and Hermione both took the floor.

“Any two of you.” Harry said, “We plan to face Voldemort together. We need to practice that way.”

“Two of us?” Flitwick asked, “No, I think you should practice against all three of us. Your fights against the Death Eaters won’t be fair.”

Harry’s eyes widened, causing the older Wizards to laugh.

“Well, at least he still has some respect for us.” Alex laughed.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Potter.” Flitwick said, “I have something I want to try.”

Harry and Hermione conferred briefly via their bond, then agreed. With nobody to formally start the fight, they all bowed, saluted, and then instantly flowed into their attacks.

The Potters had mobility unprecedented amongst duelists. They had three methods of instantaneous travel and Harry had been developing his ability to almost fly. They’d been working to duplicate Voldemort’s true flight, but hadn’t yet succeeded, despite extensive review of Pensieve memories and exhaustive research, however they hadn’t stopped developing what they could.

Alex and Dumbledore both attacked simultaneously, attempting to coordinate to quickly defeat the young couple. Meanwhile, Flitwick began a long, complicated incantation accompanied by the inscription of glowing runes in the air. As a half-goblin, he shared that race’s natural abilities with wards and had been trying to craft anti-apparition wards to prevent House Elf apparition and Phoenix flame travel.

A red-gold flaming whip shot out from Dumbledore’s wand, quickly stretching almost the entire width of the room as it lashed out towards Harry and Hermione. Alex fired a chain of ice bolts, thinking that whatever spell the Potters used to defend against Dumbledore’s dramatic flame attack might be weak against the opposite.

Harry and Hermione disappeared, blinking into existence at random spots around the room, firing off a few attacks and apparating away again. Harry continued to prefer his combination piercing curse with a powerful and tightly concentrated blasting curse right behind it. His theory was that the focused piercing curse would open up holes in defenses allowing the explosive energy of blasting curse, packed into a bead the size of a grain of sand, to penetrate and explode. It worked well in testing and had become something of a trademark of his. Hermione had continued to develop her black hole attack and her wand continually spit out the deadly black dots. The micro gravity defects only existed for an instant, but even as small and short-lived as they were, they were powerful. Wizards had developed shields against many different attacks, but were completely ignorant of science and while the common shields protected against the attacks, they were designed not to affect gravity or Wizards would lose their attachment to Earth and so were much less effective. One danger of her trademark spell was the danger to the Potters. As mobile as they were, they had to remain aware of the location of all the micro defects in space or they could hurt themselves by apparating too close to one. Given their perfect coordination, they were able to do it, but they had to be very careful.

Dumbledore’s attack was equally deadly, magical fire concentrated into the caliber of a wire would cut most targets in half. He liked fire attacks, because his bond with Fawkes strengthened his ability with the element. He hadn’t yet realized that their shared bond with Hedwig provided the Potters with equal ability and protection, which was magnified by their own Phoenix nature. The two ignored their advantage, though. They hadn’t tested how much protection they might have and despite the dueling wards didn’t want to risk it. Dumbledore was immensely powerful and they might be hurt no matter how protected they were. Furthermore, Voldemort might use a similar attack with a different energy. He’d already used a sword made of pure void, something akin to Hermione’s black holes. A whip out of something similar wouldn’t be impossible. Learning to avoid whatever was used was the best training.

Alex’s ice bolts shrieked through the air, initially aimed at his opponents’ initial positions, but soon flying randomly out trying to hit the rapidly disappearing and reappearing Potters.

Harry and Hermione had shared all their thoughts and memories when they completed the bond, including the most trivial. Hermione brought a lot to their partnership. A lifelong love of reading and an eidetic memory provided Harry with a wealth of experience he’d lacked given his isolation in the Dursleys. His isolation had developed his natural imagination and he was a incredible intuitive thinker and really brilliant at thinking outside of the box, which had started as he had to think ‘outside the cupboard’ just to maintain his sanity. Their talents and abilities combined were much more powerful than either one apart.

None of the Wizards had ever read science fiction. None of them had seen footage of the American space program. Many Wizards played Quidditch and it helped them develop some sense of maneuvering beyond the two dimensions inherent to walking on the ground, but after graduating from school and leaving the Quidditch pitch, most forgot what they learned and few ever generalized it to other pursuits, such as dueling.

None of them had ever read Orson Scott Card, never read Ender’s admonishment to his troops that the enemy’s gate was down. None of them ever understood what he was saying as instinctively as Harry did when he’d reviewed Hermione’s memories. Direction was relative. It was pretty important due to the presence of gravity, but with magic that wasn’t an absolute.

Harry continued to apparate around the room, randomly appearing and disappearing while launching SPEARs and later alternating with Black Hole attacks at Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Dimitriov. He tried to move so fast they wouldn’t notice he was now alone. Hermione, after developing a pattern of the same, disappeared and reappeared upside down on the ceiling, reorienting her personal gravity with a spell developed using the same concepts she’d used with the Black Holes. She stood stable right over her opponents and rained spells ‘down’ on them. Not used to looking up, the older Wizards never noticed her. Their defenses were all oriented to block attacks from others standing on the floor, leaving gaps at the top.

Alone, Harry was soon becoming overwhelmed despite his incredible mobility. The volume of attacks the two older Wizards could generate were causing numerous close calls as he popped around the room and only his innate reflexes and incredible reaction time saved him. However, the attacks were quickly cut off as a solid stream of Black Holes fell from above. Even with the dueling wards, Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Dimitriov were thrown around by the complex forces generated from the interactions of the gravity wells and Hermione had to cancel her spells to prevent them from being seriously hurt.

She apparated back to the floor, reversing her own ‘down’ as she appeared next to Harry. They quickly conferred, realizing their plan had worked.

“Unhhh…” Alex groaned, gaining his feet first, as the youngest and most athletic of the Potters’ opponents, “What did you hit me with?”

“You didn’t see?” Harry asked, holding his hand out to help the man up.

Alex shook his head.

“Then maybe we’ll just keep it to ourselves for a bit.” Harry said, smirking, “If we keep giving away our secrets, how are we going to keep up with your experience? There’s only so many new tricks we can invent.”

“Really?” Dumbledore said, staggering to his feet, “I had not noticed you had run into any limits. I hope you recall I have access to a Pensieve. I might not have seen what you did, but I am sure I can puzzle it out with more review.”

“Then I wouldn’t want to ruin it!” Harry chuckled, “Please do. Think about it and let us know how Riddle will counter our tactics.”

Albus nodded, “I will put Ronald to work as well.”

“Good night, Headmaster.” Hermione said, pulling on her husband, “Thank you for the training.”

The two young people left the room, hand in hand.

“Am I wrong to feel the smallest bit of sympathy with Tom?” Dumbledore asked, almost to himself.

“Yes.” Flitwick said, baring his sharp teeth, “He will be put down like a murdering dog. I want the fight to be so uneven, Harry spends days recovering from the surprise of how easily Voldemort went down.”

Dumbledore shook his head, “I understand and second your thought, but I was one of his teachers. None of us can afford to underestimate Riddle. The Potters are the only students who even compare to his level of brilliance and he has had years more to develop his abilities. We must continue to train them, because even now I fear for their life if they have to come against Voldemort without us to help.”

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June 7

At dinner, the examiners arrived at Hogwarts. Hermione’s face didn’t display her nervousness, but Harry could tell it was only her mastery of occlumency that kept it from her face.

‘You weren’t this nervous when we were fighting in the Ministry.’ Harry sent over the bond.

Hermione glanced over at him and huffed. Harry smiled affectionately at his bride and gently rubbed her arm. He felt her tension slowly resolve under his touch and mental reassurance.

“I just want to do well.” She whispered back.

He nodded.

“I know. You’ll do brilliantly. I bet you set records.” Harry said confidently.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband, but he could feel that she appreciated his support. She could feel how sincere he was and how much he believed in her.

Ron barely looked up from stuffing his face. Neville looked a little nervous, but he had set standards low and his growing confidence told him he was likely to vastly exceed them. He wanted to impress his Gran, but he was sure he would be able to. She was still thrilled by his role in the fight at the Ministry and her letters were filled with obvious pride. He also wanted to impress Ginny, who was quite academically talented for a blossoming Quidditch star. He understood deep down, though, that his girlfriend wouldn’t be disappointed no matter how he did as long as he gave it his all. With how hard he had studied, he thought there was no doubt he had done that.

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June 8

Harry finished writing and put his quill aside. He could hear Hermione’s nib continued to scratch its way across her parchment, which hung off her desk in a long roll. She was nothing but thorough and he could feel her utter absorption in her task. He had easily generated strong answers for all the questions. Just like he’d thought, they’d over studied. The questions on the test were so much simpler than what Hermione had prepared them for that it felt almost anticlimactic.

Once Hermione finished writing, they both turned their rolls of parchment in to the examiner and walked out of the Great Hall.

‘If you need to discuss the questions, I recommend doing it here in our head.’ Harry sent, ‘I’m afraid if you say it out loud you’re going to scare the others.’

Hermione looked at him for a moment. ‘Am I really that bad?’

‘Not bad.’ Harry reassured, ‘But your idea of holes in your essays will be enough to scare the others, because they won’t have even gotten close to mentioning the complicated issues you think are essential. They’ll start to worry that your level of detail is what the examiners are looking for and they’ll get anxious.’

Hermione examined her worries from Harry’s vantage point. Despite their closeness, he did offer an ‘outside’ perspective and his viewpoint let her look at her concerns without the reason-killing fear she suffered when she looked from her own perspective.

She shook her head.

“No, I think I’m good.” A huge smile broke across her face. “I’m good. I did well. I covered everything I meant to.”

Her shoulders seemed to visibly lower as the tension left her body and a new spring entered her step. An old, old demon had been slain in her psyche. Hermione finally accepted her own ability and understood she had nothing to worry about.

“Maybe we could take a walk around the lake?” Hermione offered, “Once around and it’ll probably be time for lunch.”

“You don’t need to study for the practical?” Harry offered, knowing how she was feeling, but understanding that expressing it would solidify what she felt.

“No.” Hermione said brightly, “I’m ready.”

They strolled around the lake, enjoying the warm sunshine. Tentacles waved above the surface, splashing a fine mist that left rainbows in their wake. Hedwig appeared, soaring above them, Fawkes chasing her. The two Phoenices flew complicated patterns while singing loudly. Hermione laughed, a sound of pure joy as she reveled in her sudden epiphany. Her academic anxiety was nothing compared to the evil influence of Harry’s Horcrux, but its defeat was a significant event in the young Witch’s life and she felt like a weight was lifted.

At lunch, Ron ate like he normally did, but after he’d devoured half a plate of food, he stopped, looking at Hermione.

“Herms, are you ok?” Ron asked.

“Fine, why?” Hermione asked, pausing from her description of the walk she was giving Luna and Ginny.

“I don’t know.” Ron said, “Something seems off…you haven’t mentioned the test at all.”

“No, I haven’t.” Hermione laughed, “Did you have a question about it? You don’t usually like to dissect it afterwards.”

“Nope.” Ron shook his head vehemently, then looked at Harry, “What did you do to her?”

Harry smirked, “You really want an answer to that, Mate? The answer might embarrass you and that’s if I stick to last night only.”

Ron stuttered for a minute.

“You git, I mean what did you do that she’s not talking about the test and how she forgot to account for the arithmantic variables as they pertain to Lenora’s second law as it pertains to vanishing charms.” Ron said.

Hermione laughed at him again, enjoying his discomfort.

“I finally realized I know the material and I don’t have to worry about it.” Hermione said, “I’m allowed to grow up, aren’t I?”

Ron squinted at her carefully, looking as suspicious as Alastor Moody.

“Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?” Ron asked, causing everyone to laugh.

They finished lunch and went to the small room off the Great Hall where they’d wait to take their Charms practical. They were called for the test in small groups of four. Neville was called in first among their group of friends. He came out later, looking relieved. Harry and Hermione were called in together, as they’d been warned they would be.

“Professor Tofty is free, Mr. and Mrs. Potter.”

The examiner introduced himself and they began, demonstrating the spells he asked for. They had discussed it in depth. They could perform the spell normally, silently, or wandlessly. Hermione had insisted they practice each of their spells until they could cast them by any of the three methods. Harry, however had initially demanded they not expose their full abilities, hoping to maintain at least a little advantage. They eventually realized though that after facing Voldemort, it wouldn’t do any good. He’d seen what they could do and additional intelligence from their OWLs wasn’t likely to change anything. After endless discussion, they’d agreed to perform the spells with the full incantation and wand movement, seeking to impress the examiner with the perfection of the wand movements and the clarity of their incantations. Then, they’d see if he’d be willing to let them do it silently for extra credit. During the discussion, Harry had agreed to use his holly wand instead of the Elder Wand. They both worried the Elder Wand could be recognized and Hermione thought its use would be cheating.

Once they’d finished the tasks the examiner had assigned, he was left looking at them wide-eyed.

“I have to say I have never seen students at your level.” He said, reaching for each of their hands in turn, “I will have to tell Professor Flitwick how impressed I am! I’m not allowed to tell you your score, but I can assure you you’ll be pleased.”

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June 9

At breakfast, Professor McGonagall called the Potters to the head table.

“Feeling well prepared today?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, Professor.” Hermione said, smiling.

McGonagall let her normally stern expression relax, almost returning Hermione’s relaxed smile.

“Good, good.” McGonagall said, “As my apprentice, I expect you’ll represent me well today, Mrs. Potter.”

Hermione nodded, “Of course, Professor.”

Professor McGonagall returned a brief nod, “Carry on then. Don’t be late.”

Their transfiguration test was a virtual repeat of the previous day. Harry finished his essay first, emphasizing concise over exhaustive. Hermione tended the other direction and wrote feet more than any other examinee, her work straying into mastery level transfiguration. She strove to avoid exposing the ideas she was developing to publish with Professor McGonagall, but short of that, her work was more typical of post-NEWT level mastery candidate writing than it was OWL level work. She cited current journals instead of dropping vague hints of ideas from the textbook. She turned her parchment in feeling nothing but confidence in her work.

Harry grabbed her in the hallway, giving her a Hermione-like hug.

“I’m so proud of you!” Harry said.

“We don’t even know how I did yet!” Hermione protested.

Harry rolled his eyes at her.

“I could follow what you were writing. I think you may have developed a new direction for your work with McGonagall on that last prompt.”

Hermione smiled back at him.

“I think you’re right.” She said, grinning.

They ate lunch and then took their Transfiguration practical, feeling just as confident as they had in Charms.

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June 11

Thursday arrived with the Defense against the Dark Arts OWL exam. Harry wasn’t sure how he felt. He was extremely confident, since he’d spent most of his time over the past year improving his Defense skills. However, he was also nervous, because he’d invested so much of his time, if he didn’t do well, he’d be crushed. If the members of Dumbledore’s Army didn’t do well, he’d feel like he’d failed them. Umbridge had been a terrible teacher and had chosen a terrible textbook, so he felt like his work would be responsible for his friends’ success or failure.

The written exam was straightforward. He indulged himself in a little bit of Hermione-ism and expanded his usual concise answers to show a little bit of the range of knowledge he possessed in the field. Afterwards, he felt confident. He’d known the answers to everything asked and generally could expound at length on the finer points brought up by the prompts.

The practical exam placed both Potters in front of the bald Professor Tofty again. They quickly demonstrated all the counterjinxes and defense spells both verbally and silently. Harry had practiced each of these spells so extensively that they were second nature. He felt that teaching them had further solidified his mastery, because he’d seen all the ways they could be mis-cast and all the inefficiencies that could creep in to otherwise competent wandwork.

“Oh, Bravo!” Professor Tofty cried after watching them both perform a flawless boggart banishing spell, “Very good, Potter. That is all…unless…I heard rumor that you could cast a Patronus? For a bonus point?”

Harry looked at Hermione and they agreed.

“Expecto Patronum!” they each cried in unison.

Harry was imagining Hermione walking towards him in her wedding dress. The love and happiness he felt filled him and, unsurprisingly, Prongs burst forward looking even more solid than ever before. He appeared taller, more muscular, and every hair in his coat seemed perfectly defined. He glowed a brighter white-silver than ever before and Harry felt that without the Horcrux interfering, the casting of the white magic spell was markedly easier.

Hermione’s Patronus was the surprise. Instead of her usual otter, a brilliantly white doe sprang from the end of her wand. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Prongs, it was clear that the doe was a similarly powerful member of her species, not just a deer, but an uber-doe. She nuzzled Prongs who nuzzled back, recognizing his mate. The two cantered the length of the Great Hall and the palpable sense of positive energy cheered all the examinees, breaking the aura of nervousness that otherwise prevailed.

“Well done!” Professor Tofty cried, clapping his gnarled and veined hands together, “That is all, congratulations.”

Harry and Hermione walked out together, mentally discussing the change of Patronus.

‘I’m really not surprised.’ Hermione admitted, ‘While I’ll miss my otter, does can also be fun-loving and clever. You have a connection to the stag through your father. I actually wondered if both our Patronuses would change to phoenices. It is quite common for the animagus form and the Patronus to coincide.’

‘I wondered, too.’ Harry said, ‘I think ultimately I have a connection to Dumbledore through my animagus form, to Sirius by living with him and spending time with him, and my subconscious didn’t want to let go of this connection to my parents.’

‘Apparently our subconscious minds talk, because they both decided on the same form. ‘ Hermione said, ‘How embarrassing it would have been if mine had switched to a doe and yours had switched to a phoenix.’

They continued talking mentally as they walked, but the one topic that never came up was their performance. They were both exceedingly aware of how well they’d done. They had almost underplayed their abilities and knowledge, painfully cognizant that their Defense abilities in particular would set them apart as unusual for their age. Both of them were very independent, though, and didn’t care much for trying to act normal. Hermione had long been striving to do better than anyone thought she could and Harry had always been set apart as ‘the boy-who-lived’. Neither thought they could change now and so didn’t. Little did they know that their performance on the exams was one of the main topics of conversation amongst the examiners, at least when they weren’t laughing at some of the horrendous mistakes some of the other fifth years made.

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The rest of their exams had gone equally as well and Hermione had continued to move away from her previous neuroticism, making all of her friends much happier. This year seemed like a change of pace from previous years. The dramatic events had happened earlier, leaving the period around OWLs relatively calm and the period between the exams and the leaving feast almost boring.

Harry took advantage, scheduling a meeting with the Headmaster. He brought Ron and Hermione with him. The Headmaster had McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick there with him.

“Headmaster, Professors.” Harry said, inclining his head to each in turn, “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. I wanted to discuss strategy.”

“Strategy, Potter?” Snape hissed, “Not exactly your strong suit, is it? Aren’t you going to stick with blindly blundering into danger since that does appear to be your forte?”

“Too true.” Harry nodded, “That has to change, though. I can’t afford to keep reacting. Voldemort’s been quiet since our fight in the Ministry. I hope that means I hurt him a little. We all know it won’t last, though. What do we do next?”

Ron nervously cleared his throat, glancing at the Headmaster. Receiving a nod, he spoke up.

“We’ve been talking about that. I think he’ll pursue a two-pronged strategy. He’ll continue to focus on you. Due to the prophecy, you’re his weakness and he’ll want to eliminate that. We’re already preparing for that by preparing you. We’ll keep you well guarded so if he does manage to attack you, you will have assistance.

“It’s the second prong that I think you’re referring to, though. The Death Eaters are essentially terrorists. They don’t have huge numbers, but they also don’t have fixed positions and can blend into the normal population when they’re not acting. So they’ll pursue standard assymetrical warfare guidelines. Hit unexpected targets to cause fear and unease. Try to infiltrate the government. Try to decapitate it by killing our leaders.”

They all considered what Ron had said for a few moments.

“I have to say Weasley has summarized his plans fairly well.” Snape said grudgingly.

“What leaders do you think he’ll hit?” McGonagall asked.

“What leaders would we most hate to lose?” Hermione asked, “Those would be the ones he’d try to take out. Not Fudge, we’d never miss him, although his death might destabilize the government, Voldemort would have to worry we might elect someone more competent.”

Dumbledore finally spoke.

“Ronald and I have been simulating this extensively.” He said, his voice soft, but full of command, “There are certain leaders whose loss would be more significant than others. We have designated these as the key targets Voldemort will want to strike and we will want to protect. I am one, Professor McGonagall is another, Harry is another, but we have already discussed his protection. Amelia Bones in the DMLE is the most significant other, although the Head of the Auror office, Rufus Scrimgeour, would also be a significant loss. Kingsley Shacklebolt is growing in importance and depending on how the war progresses could ascend to this level. Arthur Weasley, despite his relatively modest position in the Ministry, has proven to be significant in the simulations, primarily because he has extensive respect within the Ministry and in a crisis could quickly take a leadership role.”

“What do we do to protect them?” Harry asked.

“We do not have the manpower to guard all of them.” Dumbledore replied, “We have decided the majority of the protection must center on you. The others will be given Portkeys to a secure location, which will be kept secret. Should they be attacked, they will trigger the Portkey and flee.”

Harry nodded.

“Concerning the other typical assymetrical warfare targets, there is little we can do. Professor Dumbledore has warned Amelia Bones there may be attacks on prominent Wizarding areas, such as Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. Auror patrols have been increased. Prominent light side families, such as my own, the Longbottoms, the Bones, and the Lovegoods have been warned to increase their wards and encouraged to set up Portkeys should they need to escape.” Ron said, “Voldemort could still attack Muggle targets and there is nothing we can do to prevent it.”

They took a few moments to digest what Ron had said.

“I think this is all we can do.” Harry said, “We’ve got a plan and so we’re not being completely reactive. I will continue to prepare. At some point, we must decide I’m ready and seek him out for the final confrontation. The longer we wait, the more prepared I will be, but conversely the longer Voldemort will have to pursue this assymetrical warfare you’re talking about. How many losses are acceptable?”

“Should we decide it’s time, I can tell you where he is.” Snape said, “He keeps the snake by his side, so you will be able to strike both at once.”

Harry gave a quick sharp nod to Severus in thanks.

“You have progressed far past the point I thought you would reach by this time.” Dumbledore said, “I think you have more to do, though. There is an unacceptably large risk of failure, still, although we are vastly better off than we were a year ago.”

“I don’t disagree.” Harry said, “He was a much stronger opponent than I could have imagined when I faced him in the Ministry. Any thought I had that he would fall like Quirrell did was destroyed that day, but I won’t trade thousands of deaths for a few more months to prepare. If I see the opportunity, I will take it.”

Dumbledore sighed. Harry was still Harry. Although his impetuosity was tempered by a new maturity and Hermione’s calming influence, he was still brave to a fault and self-sacrificing beyond all reason.

They broke up, the children to bed, the adults to their rooms and thoughts that would keep them from sleep for many hours.

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“Harry, Neville, I need to talk to you.” Ron said one evening before they went to bed. He’d just been with Luna. He was clearly angry, his ears red, his eyes blazing, and his fists clenching and unclenching.

Harry walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Sure, mate, what’s up?”

Neville walked up beside them, quiet as he often was, but his face betrayed his feelings. Whatever needed to be done to back up his friends would be.

“It’s about Luna.” Ron said angrily, “The other Ravenclaws are picking on her. They’ve apparently been doing it since she got here. They’ve hidden her stuff. She wants to pack to go home, but she barely has half of what she came with. She wants to post a request for those who’ve found her missing items to return them. I want some heads to roll.”

Neville cracked his knuckles. The big Gryffindor wasn’t the pudgy anxious boy he’d been. Now, while he was still larger than average, it was all muscle. Far from being anxious, he was just anxious to avenge a friend.

Harry quickly conferred with Hermione via the bond. He could tell Ron wanted to keep this “among the boys”, but he could no more fail to consult Hermione than he could think with just the right lobe of his brain.

“Ron, you’re our tactician.” Harry said, “I know you’re mad. I’m mad, too. We have to channel that anger, though. We’ve got options. We could just go kick some peoples’ arses, but it’s probably mostly girls and we’ll end up looking like bullies. We’ve got some friends in Ravenclaw now. Cho has been really cool since she’s been dating Cedric. I think she’d help us if we asked.”

Ron’s expression changed from pure anger to cold, calculating anger.

“You’re right.” Ron said, “The twins would help, too.”

Several days later, their plans had come together. There was little that couldn’t be accomplished with an invisibility cloak, the ability to apparate anywhere in Hogwarts, the dedicated assistance of the House Elves, the two greatest pranksters in Hogwarts currently, the two greatest pranksters in Hogwarts’ history as consultants, the Marauders’ Map, the Elder Wand, and Hermione Potter nee Granger, the smartest witch of her age.

Luna posted signs several days before the leaving feast asking that her lost items be returned. Hermione had helped her write them and had added a line saying, “If the items are not returned by the leaving feast, there will be consequences. Please see Marietta Edgecombe if you want to see an example of prior consequences.”

As soon as the notices went up, Marietta herself returned a stack of clothing to Luna. The pustules on her face shrank slightly. Otherwise, there was no response.

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The leaving feast arrived. The Gryffindors had lost more points during Umbridge’s reign than any other house, but had gained more than most through Hermione’s scholarship and through their victory in the Quidditch cup, having defeated Ravenclaw in the final game.

Harry enjoyed the leaving feast. Married to his soul mate, freed from the Horcrux, having fought Voldemort to a draw in the Ministry and exposed his return, having found his Phoenix animagus form, and having been on the victorious Quidditch team… it had been a good year. He was looking forward to their revenge on those who’d bullied and teased Luna.

Professor Dumbledore finished with his announcements and suddenly there was a shriek from the Ravenclaw table. Several of the young ladies at the table were as nude as the day they were born. One of them was blessed with a quick boyfriend, who swiftly wrapped her in his own robes, however they just as swiftly disappeared. Another tried to wrap herself in the tablecloth, sending crockery crashing to the floor, but the cloth evaporated the moment it covered her skin.

Students at every other table were pointing and laughing. Colin Creevey, having been warned ahead of time, was quick with his camera, recording the chaos for posterity.

Eventually, learning nothing they did could cover themselves, the handful of young Ravenclaw women ran for Ravenclaw tower bare arsed, laughter following them all the way. Meanwhile, all the notices previously posted had changed. Now they read, “For the return of your ability to wear clothing, please return Miss Lovegood’s missing items. Thank you, the New Marauders.”

The group of friends walked laughing to the Room of Requirement, joined by George and Fred. Harry pulled out the Marauder’s Map. The text on the front had changed. It now read, “Messrs. Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs with Messr Smoke and Madame Fire, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present, THE NEW MARAUDER'S MAP".

They all laughed as they could see the missing Ravenclaws cowering in their dorm rooms.

“Who are Messr Smoke and Madame Fire?” George asked.

“The map never said that before.” Fred said.

“Gentlemen, I heard a rumor that the Marauders never closed their membership.” Harry said, “They wanted to see their legacy continued. The identity of any Marauder is a closely guarded secret, but apparently they’re still recruiting.”

“It’s not too late?” Fred asked, wide-eyed.

“We could still be Marauders?” George continued.

Both boys stood and did a jig, dancing around like crazy men.

“This was our fondest dream from the moment we found the map.” They said together.

The rest of the group laughed at them.

Luna soon had all of her own belongings and it quickly became apparent that nobody wanted to give her so much as a cross look for fear they would become the next target of the New Marauders. Having her clothing back was nice, but nothing compared to the warm glow the odd girl felt from knowing she had friends who cared enough to watch out for her.

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A/N: So please be aware that I’m trying to follow JKR’s calendar for events that are the same between our works, such as Quidditch matches. I’m utilizing the hard work seen on Harry Potter Lexicon, as they’ve already produced calendars for each book. However, they note that JKR is not completely consistent. In Order of the Phoenix, May 1st was a Friday, which I used. However in the actual year 1996 it was a Wednesday. The full moon was May 3rd, which was actually a Friday, but to be internally consistent, I keep it Sunday night, which also works better since if it were Friday Remus couldn’t have come to their wedding.

I know Microsoft Word will merge changes between two versions of a document. I’m unsure whether this was possible in 1996, but don’t care about that level of detail.

Since he wasn’t charged with underaged magic, he didn’t go to trial and his ability with a Patronus might not have reached Professor Tofty via Ogden. It might have still spread, though, particularly through all the members of the DA. Perhaps through Susan Bones to Amelia Bones and then to Professor Tofty? Who knows, but it reached the old examiner somehow…

As the story has taken on a life of its own, I realize there are some things that could easily be written in, but if I write them all, I’ll never have time to finish the story. The Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match was a purposeful omission. More about Marietta’s fate was another that I just touched on. The New Marauders initiation is touched on, but not clearly written.

Next chapter will start on Hogwarts train and will be a brief discussion of the summer. Things are rapidly progressing.

34. Who Needs Badges?

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. After all slavery is illegal!

Chapter 34: Who needs Badges?

Late June

Harry and Hermione were walking down the corridor of the Hogwarts Express. While their friends had gotten a compartment, they’d been occupied helping the first years stow their luggage and find their places on the train. Harry enjoyed seeing how happy the firsties were, a huge departure from the fear and nervousness he’d seen as they headed to Hogwarts almost a year ago.

He saw Draco Malfoy walking towards him going the opposite direction in the corridor. Their normally adversarial relationship had calmed down significantly after their duel, eventually coming to a negotiated truce. However, confrontations on the Express were something of a tradition for them and Harry found his fingers twitching ready to grasp his wand quickly if needed.

“Potter.” Draco said neutrally as he approached them, “Gr…Potter.” His lip actually curved upward slightly as he caught himself before calling Hermione by her maiden name and to Harry’s complete surprise it seemed less sardonic than usual.

“Malfoy.” Potter returned with a small nod, honoring the Slytherin’s restraint.

“Have a good summer, Draco.” Hermione said very quietly.

They walked on, finally seeing their friends saving a compartment.

Draco also continued down the corridor, stopping abruptly as a door opened and his progress was blocked by his former henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle.

“Draco, what was that?” Crabbe asked threateningly.

“Are you going soft?” Goyle added, “Potter got our fathers arrested. You could have hit him right then, especially once he had his back to you! We were here ready to help!”

Draco’s look of complete disdain cast his features into the same arrogant mask Harry would have instantly recognized from the past 5 years.

“Oh, you were ready to help, were you?” Draco drawled, “With your dueling prowess, you would have helped me take on the best duelist ever seen at Hogwarts? You did see our fight, didn’t you? Or did you not understand what you were seeing?”

“So you’re a coward now?” Crabbe grunted, “The Dark Lord won’t give a coward the Dark Mark.”

“No?” Malfoy asked, his smirk growing, “I suppose Pettigrew is secretly a bastion of courage? Move out of my way. I don’t know how I’ve put up with you morons for this long.”

Accustomed to obeying Malfoy, the two goons shifted to let him past.

“Potter’s just a half-blood and he married a Mudblood!” Goyle protested, “We should have stomped him into the ground!”

“You wouldn’t have laid a finger on him.” Draco said, “My last guidance for you…don’t mess with Potter. You’re not smart enough to understand how dangerous he’s become.”

Draco continued walking down the hallway, his body language seeming unconcerned about his former friends. Surreptitiously he dropped his hawthorne wand into his hand, keeping his movement masked by his robes. He was primed when Crabbe started the incantation for the stinging hex and whirled, casting a quick non-verbal shield and deflecting the white bolt, then returned fire with two full body binds, dropping his former friends to the floor of the Express. He glanced both directions down the hall, ensuring the thuds from their abrupt falls hadn’t alerted anyone to his actions. Draco knelt near them.

“Just because I’m not fighting Potter at every turn…” he said coldly, “don’t get the mistaken impression I’m a coward. A true Slytherin doesn’t worry about name calling. And he doesn’t let slights go unpunished.”

He stood and locked eyes with each of his prior minions in turn, then with a short sharp movement kicked each of them in the groin, his patrician features in an unchanging bland expression and his eyes cold despite the sudden violence.

“Don’t vomit or you’ll likely choke to death. If you ever attack me again, you won’t survive. Good day, gentlemen.”

Draco straightened his robes and strolled down the hall, satisfied he’d made his point. He’d have to watch his back, but he was used to having Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived as an enemy. Crabbe and Goyle didn’t even elevate his heart rate.

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Harry and Hermione walked into the compartment to see their friends calmly sitting. Ron was chatting with Neville about Quidditch, urging the large boy to try out for beater next year. Luna was leaning against Ron’s side, reading the most recent Quibbler upside down. Ginny was reading a Quidditch magazine and half listening to Ron’s advice. She looked up first as the Potters walked in.

“Harry! Hermione!” Ginny squealed, “What took you so long?”

“The first years were running around like they were on a sugar high!” Hermione huffed, “It was like trying to herd cats.”

“Is that a real career?” Luna asked absently, “I might have to reconsider journalism or naturalism if it is. Although I think I’d rather herd Kneazles or maybe Snorkacks.”

“We also ran into Malfoy.” Harry said blandly.

“Draco?” Ron asked, “Did you kick his arse?”

“No, he was actually really polite.” Harry said, “I don’t think we’ll ever be friends, but our ceasefire seems to be holding.”

“Ceasefire?” Ron snorted, “You could have killed him. He finally learned his lesson.”

“Draco’s no coward.” Neville spoke up, “A bully maybe, but not a coward. I agree he learned his lesson, but I don’t think he’s just afraid.”

Ron looked thoughtful. Neville had the ability to really make people think. He rarely offered an opinion, so when he did, his friends listened.

“You may be right, Mate.” Ron said. He hesitated a moment and then cast some powerful privacy charms Harry wasn’t even aware Ron knew. “I’ll have to think about that. I’ve continued putting him into the ‘enemy’ category. If he’s a neutral or even a potential ally, that could really change things. As big an arse as he is, he consistently proves significant in every simulation we’ve run. You wouldn’t believe it, but in more than one simulation, he even ended up killing Dumbledore, which in some of them resulted in Voldemort’s victory.”

Everyone looked at Ron wide-eyed.

“Tell me you’re kidding, Ron.” Harry said flatly, “If this is a prank, it’s not funny.”

“Not at all.” Ron said.

“You and I need to talk.” Harry said, “You’ve gotten in close with Dumbledore and he’s shared more with you than he thinks to tell me sometimes.”

“Yeah, mate, whenever you want.” Ron said, “I didn’t even think about it. You know I’m your man.”

Harry nodded, satisfied.

They changed the subject, Harry agreeing with Ron that Neville needed to try out for Beater.

“Nev, you’ve got the right build for it. You’d be a monster out there.” Harry said, “I’m hoping we can build a team with this group as the core. I’ll keep flying seeker, Ron can continue as keeper, Ginny as chaser. Now that Hermione’s over her flying issues, she would also be a great chaser. If you pick up beater, then I’ve only got two more spots to fill. Knowing each other like we do, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“I don’t know, Harry.” Neville said with a trace of his former lack of confidence, “I’m getting better on a broom, but that doesn’t say much. You know where I started out. You’ll want to run tryouts and I don’t know if I’ll be good enough.”

“Yeah, I’ll run tryouts.” Harry said, “And they’ll be fair, so if you’re not good enough, I won’t pick you just because you’re one of my best mates, but you are good enough. We want to do some more training on Black Isle this year. We’ll work some flying into it and you’ll be in good shape.”

Neville nodded. In his mind, if Harry said it, that was the end. He was loyal to his core.

At the station, they noticed Aurors conspicuously present. Now that Voldemort’s return was common knowledge, the Ministry was apparently taking security seriously. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Mad Eye with his magical eye scanning for danger, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Augusta Longbottom in her vulture hat, and the Grangers were waiting in a small clump. Even though he hadn’t lived with them for over a year, Harry’s still felt a wave of happiness wash over him when he didn’t see the Dursleys waiting for him.

Hermione ran to her parents, jumping on her father. Harry walked up more calmly.

“Hermione!” Oberon Granger cried out, surprised by Hermione’s exuberance.

“Daddy!” Hermione squealed. Rather than seeming more mature since her marriage, Hermione was more relaxed, less concerned with trying to prove how grown up she was.

“Mum.” Harry said, giving Jane Granger a firm hug.

“Harry!” Jane smiled at her son-in-law. Even if he hadn’t already been so well loved in the Granger house, seeing how happy her daughter was would have enough to endear him to her mother.

After Hermione had finished trying to squeeze her father to death, they switched and Harry shook Oberon’s hand while Hermione hugged her mother. The two women looked more like sisters then mother and daughter, Jane showing how beautiful Hermione would grow.

“Hey, pup!” Sirius said with a rakish grin, “Have a hug for your Godfather?”

“Of course!” Harry grinned back, hugging the older Marauder. Hermione hugged Remus, noticing how closely Tonks was standing and making a note to tease the man.

After all the greetings were done, they walked to Grimmauld Place. The London location was convenient to Kings Cross Station and everyone could Floo home afterwards. Eating dinner out was too dangerous now that Voldemort no longer had to hide. Mad Eye took the front, scanning carefully for hidden enemies. Tonks took the street side of the group, walking next to Remus. Sirius covered their side next to the houses, scanning windows for hidden enemies. Harry and Hermione took the back, extending their senses, particularly auramancy, out as far as they could to try to detect any Death Eaters that might try to sneak up from behind.

They reached Grimmauld Place after encountering no dangers. After making sure nobody was nearby, they hurried into the hidden house. As soon as the door closed behind them, it was a complete change in atmosphere. Kreacher was in the dining room, finishing the preparations for dinner. Dobby and Winky met them at the door with drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

“This is nice.” Jane commented, taking a drink and a stuffed mushroom from the little Elves.

“Thank you, Missus Granger!” Winky said happily.

“I’ll never get used to how happy they are to work so hard.” Oberon commented.

“How else would we be?” Winky asked confused, “We is good Elves and working for our families is what we love to do!”

Oberon gave a very Hermione-like huff, shaking his head. Hermione had finally accepted that House Elves were not just little people, but their very own race with their own culture and desires. Once she’d accepted that, her need to try to fit them into her ideals grew less. She’d finally realized that just like she couldn’t have lived like Molly Weasley but didn’t need to try to fix her life, she couldn’t live like Winky or Dobby but didn’t need to fix their lives either. Her father was in the early stages of coming to that same realization, but he and Jane had done a good job of passing their ideals to Hermione, so shared her initial reaction and had to come to terms with something that went against it.

Throughout dinner, they discussed how the school year had gone and their plans for summer. They only lightly touched on the confrontation in the Ministry, because none of the students wanted their parents to worry any more than they already did so had each individually resolved to downplay it.

“So, Hermione, that Umbridge character you’d written us about got canned?” Oberon asked.

Hermione blushed slightly, deciding how to put it so she didn’t highlight her own involvement.

“Yes, dad.” Hermione said lightly, “It turned out she had broken some laws, so she went to Azkaban.”

Sirius shuddered at the name of the Wizard Prison.

“Well done.” Madame Longbottom said, “I am very proud of you children this year. Exposing that miscreant as well as facing You-Know-Who at the Ministry.”

The students collectively held their breath. The topic they hadn’t wanted to broach had come up.

“Thank you, Madame Longbottom.” Harry said.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter.” Augusta said, “Since he has grown closer to you, Neville has become just like his father. I am very proud.”

“It was definitely not my doing.” Harry said, smiling at his friend, who ducked his head, unused to being the center of attention, “He’s been brave since I’ve known him. He faced down all of us first year when we were about to get into trouble, which won him the house points that pushed Gryffindor over the top in the House Cup competition.”

Augusta smiled at her grandson.

“Well, he’s always had potential, but I am so pleased to see him growing into it.”

“I can’t believe how you’re all growing up!” Tonks said, looking from Harry to Hermione, “I haven’t known you that long, but you’re already married and one of the best duelists I’ve ever seen.”

“We’re proud of all of them!” Molly Weasley gushed, “We should have a graduation party for the twins at the Burrow very soon!”

“Oh, good idea!” Sirius said, with an evil grin on his face, “What are you two young men going to do with yourselves?”

“We’re starting a business.” Fred said.

“We’ve already got funding. We started with an initial investment from a private investor and that’s been supplemented with a large sum from an investment company.” George continued.

“With that money, we’ve been able to take a lease on a shop in Diagon Alley.” Fred said.

“It’s got a flat over it, which is good,” George said, “because to get it fully running before most of the Hogwarts students go shopping later this Summer is going to take some heavy work.”

“What about the rest of you?” Arthur asked, “Made any plans?”

“We’d like to have everyone back to the island.” Hermione said, “We think another month of focused training will be very useful. Mad Eye has agreed to be our trainer again while Professor Flitwick catches up on his own projects.”

“That sounds good.” Sirius said, smiling hugely, “It’ll be nice to have all of you around again. When do you plan to start?”

“Early August.” Harry said, “Hermione and I want to look into some concerns around the Ministry first.”

“The Ministry?” Arthur said, “Anything I can help with?”

“Mmmm…” Hermione thought, “Maybe. We thought Mad Eye or Tonks might help get us started. We need to talk to Amelia Bones, the Head of the DMLE.”

“Amelia’s an old friend of mine.” Mad Eye grunted, “I could introduce you. I think she might actually be pretty pleased to get to talk to you.”

“Better him than me.” Tonks laughed, “I could get you in to see her, but she’s my boss, not a friend.”

“Thanks, Mad Eye.” Harry said.

The Master Auror just grunted in reply, but he was pleased. He saw Harry as a bit of a protégé and anything that put him closer to the Auror Department made the old Auror happy.

After pudding, they broke up. Some drifted out into the sitting room, while some sat around the Dining Room. Molly tried to collect dishes, but quickly found herself empty-handed when the House Elves protected their prerogatives.

Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, Remus, and Sirius ended up in a quiet corner. Hermione silently cast a complicated privacy charm. Nobody would hear what they had to say.

“Fred, George,” Harry said quietly, “I wanted to talk to you secretly.”

“What’s up, Harry?” the two twins said together, suddenly looking nervous.

“It’s about that investment company and more…” Harry said, “what did you hear their name was?”

“There wasn’t a name on the document we received from Gringotts.” George said.

“It just said M.I.I.” Fred continued, “Why, do you know something about it?”

“I’m just the messenger.” Harry said, “M.I.I. stands for Marauder Investments Incorporated. ”

“It was a good deal.” George said.

“Even before we knew it was the Marauders!” Fred continued.

“No way was anyone else going to front five thousand galleons with no security other than a small percentage stake in the company. Because we promised you a thirty three percent stake in the company, we weren’t comfortable giving them any more than fifteen, so we could maintain control. They accepted.” George continued, “No offense, but that’s insane!”

“The Marauders have kept up with your accomplishments.” Harry said, “We have all worked with them in some form or another. They want you to know they’re interested in more than just the company. They’re interested in you joining them…if you meet the requirements.”

The twins looked at Harry wide-eyed. It was like he’d offered them the chance to work with Santa Claus.

“Whatever it takes!” Fred said.

“Tell us!” George added.

Harry slipped them a book. They looked at it, but it was blank. They looked up at Harry like he was playing a prank, but then looked back at the book, a knowing look on their face. Despite their lack of academic distinction, the Weasley twins were really frighteningly intelligent. Their priorities were just different from Bill’s or Percy’s, the two most accomplished Weasley sons.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Fred said, touching his wand to the cover. Gilt letters on the brown leather cover filled in to read, “The Marauder’s Guide”.

“This book tells you the requirements.” Harry said, “Don’t lose it. If anyone but the two of you touches it, it will burst into flame and you will never again be offered consideration.”

“Mischief managed.” George said, touching his wand to the book. The letters disappeared.

“Brilliant!” the twins said together.

“They know you’re going to be busy.” Harry finished, “Getting your business up and running is your priority, but take a look at the book when you have a chance.”

“Oh, we will, Harry!” Fred said.

“Thank you for the investment and giving us this opportunity!” George finished.

“No problem.” Harry said, “Like I said, they’ve been impressed with your work. Good luck with the business.”

“Thanks!” the twins said, hurrying off to continue their preparations.

The New Marauders looked at each other and laughed. Sirius and Remus had inducted Harry and Hermione once they’d developed their animagus forms. They’d named Hermione “Madame Fire” for her Phoenix form and Harry “Mr. Smoke” for his darker colored Phoenix form. They thought it was funny, saying, ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” The Potters thought it could have been much worse, so they hadn’t complained.

“Do you think they’ll master the animagus transformation?” Sirius asked.

“Are you kidding?” Hermione asked, starting to say something before he interrupted her.

“No, I’m always Sirius.” The dark haired prankster said dryly.

Remus groaned, used to the long running word play.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave a huff. “As I was going to say, I bet they’ll have mastered it before the shop opens in late summer. Those two may seem like jokers, but it’s their way of dealing with being much too smart for their own good.”

“You would be the expert on that.” Harry chuckled.

“Well, my way of dealing with it is one option.” Hermione said, “Being a swot with her nose in a book is maybe a bit cliché, but it worked. Bill, Percy, Remus, and your mother all went that way, too. You, the twins, your father, and Sirius found another way to deal with it. I think if you looked, the class clown is often brighter than average, they just channel it differently.”

Remus was smiling at the young Witch his adopted nephew had married.

“Your perceptiveness is yet another reason I still think I was right to call you the smartest witch of your age, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Moony.” Hermione said affectionately. From the polite and deferential student to teacher relationship she’d originally adopted when he was her professor, she’d developed a more familial relationship with the somewhat melancholy older man as he’d settled into Harry’s life on a more permanent basis. That relationship seemed to be on his mind as well and his face fell from the smile to a grimmer expression. Somehow, as if she sensed she was needed, Tonks had drifted over, somehow circumventing the slight repelling charm built into Hermione’s privacy charms. Tonks rubbed Remus’ shoulder, showing more familiarity than the Hogwarts students had yet seen between them.

“Go ahead, Remus.” She softly urged.

“Harry, I need to say something.” Remus began hesitantly, “Sirius and I talked and we both recently started seeing Mind Healers at St. Mungos. It has helped, but it also made me realize I need to directly address something with you. I’ve been hesitant, as if by ignoring it, it would somehow go away, but I now realize it won’t. I…I failed you. Sirius was your official Godfather, but I was a Marauder, too. I know your dad would have expected me to take over for Sirius if something had happened to him. So when it did, I should have. I managed to convince myself that you were better off without me. I was so ashamed of myself as a werewolf and for not seeing the traitor within the Marauders, that I thought it would be best if I just disappeared. I didn’t check on you before I did. If I had, I would have learned how bad the Dursleys were and I swear I wouldn’t have left you with them. I am so sorry. I betrayed my duty as a Marauder, as a member of your family, and I can barely live with myself for that failure.”

Harry looked at one of his father’s two best friends, his defenses down as he beat himself for his errors. Harry didn’t know how to feel. Remus was right. Because of his mistake, Harry had grown up abused and unloved. As much as he wanted to just forgive, he had really suffered. At the same time, he could understand how Remus felt with all the stigma as a werewolf. The Marauders had imploded, with James and Lily dead, Sirius thought to be a traitor, and Peter thought to be dead as well. Moony had been the last of the Marauders and had decided Harry was better off without him.

“Moony,” Harry started, his voice breaking and on the verge of tears, “you’re right. It sucked. I really needed someone and I didn’t even know you existed. I forgive you, though. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. You didn’t know about the Dursleys. There have been times I wanted to hate Dumbledore and wanted to blame you and Sirius for letting him get away with it, but I know him and I know you. None of you would have let me stay in that situation if you’d known.”

Remus shook his head, unable to speak without breaking down.

Sirius gathered his strength, laying his hand on his Godson’s shoulder.

“I owe you as big an apology as Moony does.” Sirius said, uncharacteristically somber, “I’ve always been rash and I was so angry that Peter had betrayed James that I focused on destroying him, thinking I could come take care of you once I’d settled matters with him. I never anticipated what would actually happen. I promised your father, my best friend, I would take care of you if anything should happen to him. I failed both of you.”

Harry could understand Sirius’ plight better, because there was almost no way he could have anticipated what would happen. He should have realized if he’d died chasing Peter, he wouldn’t be there for Harry, but Peter was easily underestimated and it would have been much easier dealing with him immediately than trying to pick up a cold trail later.

“Both of you made mistakes.” Harry said, “I forgive you both on one condition…”

He looked both of them in the eye.

“You have to spend the rest of your lives making up for the time we missed. You’re my family now. Eventually Hermione and I will have our own family and you have to be there to be their favorite uncles. Neither of you is allowed to die nobly trying to atone for these mistakes, do you understand me? I need you alive. We’re the Marauders. We’re a family.”

The two older Marauders nodded, smiles creeping onto their faces. Harry hugged each of them in turn. After he’d hugged Moony, he noticed Tonks squeezing the older man’s shoulder.

“So what’s with this?” Harry asked with a mischievous grin, “Something you two haven’t told us?”

Tonks hair fluctuated wildly through a rainbow of colors. Remus looked down and Sirius chuckled at the both of them.

“I don’t know if you know,” Sirius said, “Tonks is one of my cousins. Her mother was one of three sisters, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda Black. We all grew up together. At some point, Tonks decided she liked this mangy wolf. I’ve given her my blessing to date this miscreant and she managed to beat his self esteem problem out of him enough that he could allow himself to enjoy her company.”

“Well, I have to admit,” Harry said, “even as young as I am, I’ve experienced how much the love of a good woman can make the difference. Over the last two years I feel like I’ve gone from completely at the mercy of fate to having at least some influence over my own life. I attribute it all to Hermione. So I wish you luck, Moony.”

“Thanks, cub.” Moony said quietly, cuffing his quasi-nephew on the shoulder.

“Men!” Hermione said, sniffling. She grabbed Tonks and gave the young Auror a hug, causing her to squeak.

“Ok, all the Marauder business concluded?” Sirius asked, looking from face to face. The handsome Head of the Black family had assumed the mantle of the leader of the Marauders now that Prongs was gone.

They all nodded and Hermione cancelled the privacy charms.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

Harry found himself back in the Ministry, facing Antonin Dolohov over Hermione’s prostrate body. He felt his magic respond to his anger, flaring to levels he’d never felt before, his emotion pushing it higher and higher. The ruthless, likely psychotic Wizard was smiling at Harry, confident the boy would break after seeing his love fall. Instead, Harry lashed out with his magic, without wand, incantation, or even formal spell in mind and Dolohov’s head exploded. Harry felt a grim satisfaction and even joy. Now that he’d felt how to harness his rage and his magic in that way, it didn’t seem that hard. Some perverse part of him that somehow seemed centered in the scar on his forehead seemed to even rejoice in this new found power. He glared around the room and a handful of Voldemort’s other followers fell, their heads bursting at a look from Harry. Bellatrix looked at him, stunned that this boy had just killed so many Death Eaters. She started to turn to run, but Harry reached out with his magic faster and she was torn to pieces. Harry felt laughter bubbling up from his throat as mad rage completely consumed him. He moved through the Ministry, killing every Death Eater he met. Finally, he faced Voldemort.

“Ah, Harry Potter.” Voldemort said, his aristocratic manner in conflict with his snakelike features, “We meet again.”

Harry struck out again, a giant burst of magic flying from his roiling core without need of wand or incantation. Voldemort managed to deflect it, but the arrogant confidence seemed to depart. Before the Dark Lord could strike back, Harry had sent another burst of pure spite and another. Voldemort barely managed to parry each one and only due to his peerless wand work, the pale wand held loosely in long fingers. Instead of feeling weaker as he continued to pour out magic, Harry felt stronger and stronger, as dark power filled him. His next blast smote the pretender Lord, knocking him to the ground.

“No,” Voldemort said, his voice quivering as he strove to speak through broken ribs, “join me! I’ll teach you true power. You’ll join me in immortality as my disciple and we will rule the world.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, “If I join you, what will you give me? You offer me power?”

“Yes, I’ll give you power!” Voldemort gasped.

“Offer me money.” Harry hissed.

“I’ll give you money!” Voldemort groveled, “All that Malfoy owns and all the Ministry sends me!”

“Offer me my parents lives back.” Harry said, “Give me Hermione.”

Voldemort’s eyes grew wide, before he burst into flames, Fiendfyre assuming the form of a basilisk wrapped around him. A spirit tried to rise out of the burning, but Fiendfyre destroyed everything and even that was consumed.

Dumbledore walked up beside Harry.

“You did it, my boy, you did it!” Albus said, his eyes sparkling.

“I did.” Harry said flatly, “But I’m not your boy.”

He turned to the Headmaster, the Fiendfyre leaping from Voldemort to Dumbledore, surprising the defeater of Grindelwald. Albus went for his wand, but his fingers were gone before he could grasp it. He barely had time to gasp out, “Why?”

“You think I will ever forgive you for the Dursleys?” Harry asked, watching as his mentor burned.

He turned to see Fudge appearing from the Floo as Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna appeared out of the elevators.

“What’s happening here?” Fudge asked.

“Attention seeking, Minister.” Harry said coldly, letting his lips curve upwards slightly as the Fiendfyre basilisk leapt to the inept Minister.

“Harry, you can’t do this, Mate!” Ron cried out.

“No?” Harry asked, “I would have listened to you, once. Perhaps before you left me during the TriWizard tournament. Now? Burn, Ron, burn.”

He incinerated Ron Weasley, taking out the others, too, for good measure. After all, Neville was the other choice for the prophecy. There would be no threats remaining for the next Dark Lord.

Harry threw his head back and laughed.

He woke up sitting bolt upright in bed, screaming. Hermione was stroking his back.

“Harry!” she cried, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Merlin!” Harry gasped, “It was a nightmare. It was terrible. You were killed at the Ministry and I went mad. I killed all the Death Eaters, killed Voldemort, but then killed Dumbledore, Fudge, Ron and the others.”

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione said, looking aghast, “Have you been using your occlumency? Maybe you’re losing your mind. I think we’ll need to restrain you somehow, perhaps bind your magic. I’m afraid your connection to Voldemort unhinged you before we could cleanse it.”

Harry looked at her in shock. What was she saying? Then he remembered the broom in third year. She always believed she knew best and when she thought he would disagree, she would just go behind him to make sure he didn’t have the chance. She was the only Witch strong enough to challenge him. If she chose to side against him, he wasn’t sure he would win. He summoned the Elder Wand to his hand.

“Avada kedavra!” Harry incanted, hitting Hermione with the sickly green bolt. He saw her eyes go blank as she fell back on the bed. He threw his head back and laughed, his only true threat neutralized.

He woke up screaming. He heard another voice, both in his ears and in his mind also screaming. He looked around frantically and saw Hermione, her brown curls plastered to her head with sweat, her eyes wide as if she’d just seen something horrific.

“Harry?” she asked fearfully, “Harry, what was that?”

He couldn’t speak. He wasn’t sure where he was or what was happening. Finally, his mind seemed to drag itself from the nightmare and he realized.

“It was just a dream.” He said, “It was just a dream.” He repeated as if to convince both of them.

“I dreamed Dolohov killed me and you went mad, killing everyone.” Hermione said, “Then I thought we both woke and I realized I had just seen your nightmare, but then you hit me with the Killing Curse and I died!”

Harry nodded, “I dreamed that, too.” Tears were running down his cheeks. “I would never hurt you, Hermione!”

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione said, pulling him to an embrace, “I know you wouldn’t. I’d never try to lock you up, either. If you go crazy, I’ll find a way to fix you. I won’t try to imprison you.”

They both panted, their heart rates slowly returning to normal. Nightmares were much rarer with their mastery of occlumency, but given the horrors they’d seen, not even mastery completely protected their minds from their own fears. Only the most traumatized master occlumens still experienced nightmares. They were both sure Severus still woke screaming some nights. Who knew what fears and regrets woke Dumbledore from sleep? They both remembered him talking about his sister when they’d discussed the Resurrection Stone, maybe that was his greatest burden.

Once they’d settled enough to do anything other than breathe, Hermione pulled her nightgown over her head while Harry wiggled out of his boxers. They didn’t even have to talk to realize they wouldn’t easily go back to sleep and seeking comfort in physical contact seemed a good idea. They came together, legs intertwining and clammy skin growing damp from healthier sweat. They finally fell asleep after several climaxes washed away their lingering unease.

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

The next morning they woke, somewhat the worse for wear, but far better than they would have been if it weren’t for their recuperative powers as phoenices. A quick shower and clean clothes left them feeling almost back to normal. Breakfast and coffee would probably fix any remaining problems. They walked down to the kitchen to test that theory. Both were surprised to find Moody already sitting at the breakfast table, carefully casting detection spells at his breakfast.

“Oh, you’re up.” He said, “I came by to tell you Amelia will meet with you this morning at ten o’clock.”

“You had to come by?” Harry asked.

“You recommend I trust the Floo?” Mad Eye asked, his magical eye rolling as it searched the room for dangers.

“Of course not.” Harry said, glancing at Hermione with a shrug.

They ate breakfast in silence, entertained watching Mad Eye cast more detection spells at his porridge than most Wizards likely knew. He was paranoid, but it had kept him alive longer than any other Auror of his caliber. He’d been Amelia’s senior partner when she’d been a young Auror and he’d trained most of the current Aurors. Learning from him was a blessing that might make the difference between death and survival in the conflict against Voldemort.

After breakfast, Harry was looking in his wardrobe. Sirius had knocked down a wall between Harry’s room and Hermione’s room, creating one large suite, effectively a second master suite for Grimmauld place. There was one small room off it that Harry hadn’t been able to figure the purpose of. When he’d asked Hermione, she’d blushed.

“It’s the nursery, Harry.”

“Nursery?” Harry had asked, “Why would we need a nursery?”

“We don’t!” Hermione hissed, “Yet! You have said you’d like children someday, though!”

“Oh, of course.” Harry said, “Oh, I see. Ok, so it’s for the future.”

“Yes, Harry.” Hermione said, exasperated that despite every influence she’d had on him, Harry was still very much a clueless male, “Sirius is obviously hoping we’ll live with him forever, so he built a nursery into our suite.”

“Well, that was considerate.” Harry said.

Now he was trying to decide what to wear. What did you wear to talk to the Head of the DMLE?

“Here, Harry.” Hermione said, reaching past him for one of his nicer robes. Not the nicest, but an Acromantula silk set with the Potter crest embroidered on the breast. She put on a matching set, then carefully brushed her hair, taming the almost uncontrollable mass.

Once Harry was dressed, Hermione looked him over. He was wearing silver wire framed round glasses that were almost his trademark. Since his Phoenix transformation, his eyes had somehow healed until he found he didn’t need the corrective lenses anymore. Hermione had quietly transfigured the glass to a neutral lens, saying it was another surprise that might help them someday. She nodded her head, satisfied with his appearance.

“Well, do I look ok?” she asked.

“You look beautiful as always, Hermione.” Harry answered.

“Oh.” Hermione said, “Well, good.” She kissed him lovingly, happy with his answer. They walked downstairs to the Floo.

“Ministry of Magic!” they said together, throwing in powder and stepping forward in unison.

They checked in at the front desk, were given visitor badges, and led to Amelia Bones’ office. As the Head of a major department, she had a large office, with a secretary’s office opening to the hallway and her own office opening off of it. They checked in with her secretary and then sat to wait. They didn’t sit long before Madame Bones herself came out to get them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter.” The no-nonsense woman said, “Please, come in.”

They followed her in.

“Master Auror Moody said you’d like to speak with me.” Madame Bones said, “There aren’t many people he’d do that for. Since I wanted to speak to you both anyway, I was happy to arrange it.”

“Thank you, Madame Bones.” Hermione said, taking the lead for them, “There is so much we want to speak to you about. We weren’t sure how to set up a meeting. We appreciate your time. First, we had discussed allying House Potter with some of the other old light-side houses. Bones, of course, is amongst the first rank and so we had hoped you might consider such an alliance. We’re good friends with Susan and I’m sure she’d be willing to vouch for us.”

Amelia Bones looked at Hermione through her monocle and the young Witch felt a ghostly touch of legilimency brush against her shields. Hermione turned the probe aside without thinking about it, arching an eyebrow at the Head of all the Ministry’s law enforcement. Amelia’s eyes widened, surprised at the strength of the rising sixth year’s shields.

“Moody said you’d surprise me.” Madame Bones said, “He was right. Susan has mentioned your friendship. She says she thinks it’s only your teaching that kept her on track for her DADA OWL. The House of Bones would be happy to renew our alliance with the House of Potter.”

Harry inclined his head. “The House of Potter is delighted, Madame. Thank you.”

“What else?” Bones asked.

“There have been disappearances among the professional duelists.” Hermione said, “We think Voldemort’s involved, but we don’t know where to begin. We thought we might somehow be able to speak to the Aurors who are investigating.”

Now Madame Bones truly stared at the Potters.

“Well, you are quite a surprise. We doubted anyone put that together, yet. Most of the circuit spends most of their time traveling and might not be heard from for months at a time. We’ve only recently decided there was a single person or group responsible for all the disappearances, yet two Hogwarts students show up and say they’ve already realized this and think they know who? Remarkable. It validates one of the reasons I wanted to meet with you today. Let me explain and we’ll come back to your mystery.

“Recruiting is one of the most important responsibilities for senior Aurors. You may not have seen it, yet, but there’s strong competition for the best and the brightest from Hogwarts. For example, we would have loved to have gained Bill Weasley, but Gringotts snatched him from us. Percy Weasley was up for consideration, but went elsewhere within the Ministry, which I now think was a good choice for him, as he’s too bureaucratic to really do well as an Auror. We were thrilled to get Tonks. Cedric Diggory is the current prize. Advanced word from the examiners is that his DADA score is going to be remarkable...”

“You have access to the scores already?” Hermione squeaked.

A stern look from Madame Bones quickly settled the young Witch.

“Sorry, momentary relapse.” Hermione muttered.

“Well, usually this type of jockeying for promising recruits doesn’t happen until their seventh year…” Amelia said, “but the jewel of all jewels from Hogwarts was thought to be one Harry Potter, boy-who-lived.”

Harry made a face at the hated nickname, earning a smile from Madame Bones.

“Ah, I see you don’t like your nickname, Mr. Potter?”

“No, I hate it.” Harry said, “I don’t want to be known for something I don’t remember and that simultaneously reminds me my parents did NOT survive.”

“I can see that.” Amelia said, “Well, as I was saying, everyone thought you would be the grand prize of recruits since James and Lily Potter who were the top prizes since Albus Dumbledore. Not many will admit that one Tom Riddle was also a fought-over commodity and fewer still remember he would later become Voldemort.

“However, after your first few years, your star was quickly rivaled by one Hermione Granger, who somewhere picked up the sobriquet ‘smartest witch of her age’, perhaps from one of her Professors? It was thought the Aurors might get Mr. Potter while St. Mungos was planning to battle for Miss Granger with the Department of Mysteries, who live up to their name with nobody knowing how they recruit.

“Now, with your academic record growing to almost match hers, you two are thought of together. Every serious employer from Quidditch to Gringotts to every department here at the Ministry will fight to win you. Personally, I think the Department of Magical Law Enforcement can make a better offer than any of them, so I’m happy to meet with you, so I can see if you’re everything you’re cracked up to be and pitch our offer.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. They’d hoped to dig into this mystery a little, but had found themselves being recruited for post-Hogwarts careers two years prior to graduation.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, but Harry found his voice first.

“Ok, pitch.” Harry said calmly.

Madame Bones arched an eyebrow at him and then laughed.

“I could bluster and say we’re still trying to figure out if you’re all your reputation suggests, but you’d know I was lying. I’ve heard from Auror Tonks and Master Auror Moody how good you are with a wand and I HAVE heard hints from the examiners that you proved that in your recent exams. Harry is descended from a long line of successful Aurors, including his father who was considered a rising star when he was killed. You are definitely candidates we’re interested in.

“We’ve talked to your Professors and others who know you well. We think an offer to be a routine Auror is doomed to failure, because it’s not the right job for you. Instead, we’ve discussed it with the Department of Mysteries and Gringotts. We’d like to offer you the chance to come into the Auror academy directly after graduation. You would receive training as an Unspeakable with the Department of Mysteries and as a Curse Breaker with Gingrotts. Then you would function as special agents for use in cases where your particular skills and talents were called for.”

Harry and Hermione wondered what sources of information the Head of the DMLE had, since her offer had been almost verbatim what they’d thought they would enjoy.

“This offer will be extended to you so long as you qualify for each of these positions on their own and are willing to submit to the confidentiality oaths the Department of Mysteries require.”

Hermione had finally engaged her formidable intellect and she was ready to bargain for what she wanted.

“We’re intrigued.” Hermione said, “We want some sort of semi-official intern status now with access to the resources of the Auror Department and the Department of Mysteries.”

Madame Bones sat back, surprised by the counter offer.

“We can’t do that.” She said, “There has never been anything like that offered to an Auror candidate and the Department of Mysteries would never consider it. Their secrecy is so complete that nobody even knows who is an Unspeakable unless they’re in one of the few public positions.”

“Then perhaps we’ll just pay for similar training and do it freelance.” Hermione said dismissively, “I thought the resources of the Ministry were the only really attractive portion of the offer. There’s probably more money in doing it outside of the Ministry.”

“Outside of the Ministry?” Bones asked, “There is no such thing!”

“Really?” Hermione said, “There’s no such thing as a Private Investigator in the Wizarding world? Or a Protection Specialist? A freelance Curse Breaker? If they don’t currently exist, we’ll be able to make even more money by inventing them.”

Madame Bones’ mouth opened and closed as if she were trying to imitate a goldfish.

“Very well. I’ll need to talk to my counterpart in the Department of Mysteries, but if I can arrange it, I will. For now, I’m willing to offer you the intern positions you requested in the Auror Department. You’ll have to swear confidentiality oaths that you won’t reveal what you learn. I’ll even have intern badges made for you.”

The two Potters conferred via their link and quickly decided to accept the offer.

“Good!” Bones said, “This will help if you have to kill Death Eaters in the conflict with Voldemort, as well. You’ll have official sanction.”

“I don’t want to be used as a publicity stunt for Minister Fudge.” Harry said flatly.

“Minister Fudge?” Bones asked, smirking, “He resigned this morning. It was inevitable ever since you faced Voldemort, but he was able to resist this long. He was a consummate politician.”

Harry smiled, pleased that gasbag was gone.

“Come with me.” Madame Bones said, “I’ll get your badges and introduce you to the Aurors working the duelist case.”

The Potters followed the Head through the DMLE to the Auror Division. In an office labeled “IDs and Badges” they received special badges labeled “Auror Intern”.

“These will allow you to apparate into the Ministry. You can apparate into the Auror Division or the main hall. Now, don’t think you can make arrests.” Amelia said, “You won’t be qualified to do so until after you’ve gone through the academy. Even our academy cadets aren’t allowed to do so. You can assist Auror Tonks or Master Auror Moody if they allow you to. Otherwise, you’re free to discuss the case you’re interested in. Follow me.”

She took them into a large room filled with cubicles. The cubicles were decorated with newspaper clippings and wanted posters. Many had professional grade Sneak-o-scopes and similar tools scattered on shelves. Madame Bones led them unerringly through the maze to a certain cubicle. Aurors greeted her respectfully as she walked through.

“Auror Proudfoot, Auror Savage, this are our new Interns, Harry and Hermione Potter.”

One grizzled looking bald man with a handlebar mustache was apparently named Proudfoot and the other, shaggy-haired with mutton-chops, must be Savage.

“Potter, huh?” Proudfoot asked, “Interns? Ok, so they’re letting kids play around here. What do you want with us?”

“We heard there were duelists on the professional circuit disappearing.” Harry said, “We think it could be Voldemort and we wanted to find out what you know.”

“Got an internship and now you know something about detective work?” Proudfoot sneered.

“Aurors, you are directed to take one half hour and brief the Potters on the facts of the case so far. Once you’ve done so, you can return to your work.” Bones said, “Understood?”

The two Aurors stiffened, but then nodded. Bones turned and walked away.

“The files are there.” Savage said, pointing to a large pile of manila folders, “On the wall there are some connections we’ve made. Feel free to look. Once you’re done, you can have ten minutes to ask questions. We’ve got work to do.”

Harry and Hermione quickly began looking through the information. Hermione was a very fast reader and had an eidetic memory. She began devouring the files. Meanwhile, Harry looked at the pictures on the wall of the different duelists who were missing, the last time and place they were seen, and any similarities between them. There were tacked strings trying to demonstrate connections and it quickly became a web indicating the complexity of the professional dueling circuit.

They finished absorbing information at half past twelve.

“Ugh, I’m hungry, Hermione.” Harry said, “I haven’t come up with anything that really connects any of these Wizards to Voldemort. There’s a mix of Muggleborns, Half-bloods, and Purebloods. They’re not all from one country, let alone all from Hogwarts.”

“I’m hungry, too.” Hermione agreed, “And came up with nothing, either. Maybe we should go to the dining room here and grab a bite. After, we’ll be fresher and can talk to Proudfoot and Savage.”

Harry nodded his agreement, his face showing his relief. They tracked through the maze of cubicles, eventually finding the door to the hall. Then they had to try to find their way to the rumored canteen where Ministry officials ate.

They were speaking via their bond, trying to organize the information they’d absorbed and make connections. Suddenly, Harry’s head snapped up and he saw a sickening green flash headed towards them. He leapt on Hermione, taking them both to the ground as the Killing Curse flew over their heads, striking chips from the wall. All they could see was a dark figure disappearing around the corner. Hermione rolled to her feet, never even coming to rest after being tackled before she set off running after the barely seen assailant. Harry had purposefully taken the brunt of the fall and it took him a second longer to gain his feet. He was fast, though, and his legs were slightly longer. He considered apparating ahead, but he didn’t know the layout, making it impractical. Despite all their methods of transportation, they were stuck running after their attacker unless they wanted to give away their animagus forms.

They rounded a corner, seeing the Wizard running away from them for just an instant before he ran around the next corner. He apparently knew the layout of the Ministry very well, as he’d picked one of the most winding hallways in existence; with enough bends they never got a clear shot at him. It didn’t stop Harry from chaining off several stunning spells, but the red bursts of light hit the wall with no effect.

“What are you kids doing?” a Wizard yelled as they almost crashed into him. Neither responded, saving their breath for the chase. Hermione had to banish the man out of the way of another Killing Curse originally aimed for them a second later.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Hermione panted, trying to run faster. The crowds in the hallway were becoming thicker as Ministry workers walked to lunch.

It looked like they were coming to a dead end, the hall ending in a wall of windows overlooking the Atrium. The dark robed Wizard cast a reductor curse at the window, causing it to shatter outwards. Still at a dead run, he ran through the hole he’d created, obviously thinking his pursuers would have to stop.

Neither did. Hermione hurtled into the air at a dead run, Harry leaping outwards a split second behind.

The unknown assailant, dark robes billowing around him, fell towards the floor of the atrium on the 8th floor of the Ministry, six floors below where they’d started. He fell amongst a cloud of glass shards from the window he’d broken, likely recently replaced after Harry’s fight with Voldemort in the same atrium. Hermione fell after him, her wand already starting to spit spells now that she had a clear line of sight, trusting Harry to deal with the fall. Harry, mere feet above her, was blocked by his wife from firing at their attacker, leaving him the responsibility of planning their landing. He cast a few overpowered spells from the Elder Wand at the floor, then apparated downward, grabbed Hermione, then apparated them both to the floor, cancelling their momentum precisely in the process.

The dark robed attacker, stunned and wrapped in stout silken ropes by Hermione’s spells hit the floor about two and a half seconds after leaping through the window and traveling about 87 kph. He hit the apparently hard stone floor and bounced as if landing on a soft mattress, Harry’s powerful cushioning charm having struck before he did.

The Potters landed a split second before he did, having apparated the distance. With Harry’s consummate skill at momentum shifts during apparation, Hermione barely had to flex her knees to keep her feet.

“Thanks, Harry.” She said, “I knew you’d catch me.”

“Of course.” Harry said, “Now who’s this guy?”

Their attacker had been wearing standard work robes, which were plain black, although barely visible under the loops of rope tying him. He’d put on a Death Eater mask, either before firing at them or immediately afterwards. If he’d escaped, that would have made it hard to identify him as that’s all the other Witches and Wizards would have seen.

A crowd was gathering, but a wedge of Aurors quickly moved in, splitting up to provide crowd control. Madame Bones walked quickly up to them.

“What did I tell you about arrests!” she said sternly.

“It was hardly an arrest!” Hermione protested, “Whoever this is fired the Killing Curse at us as we were walking to lunch and then ran away. We did chase him… should we not have?”

The Aurors had gathered around him, Kingsley Shacklebolt in the forefront.

“Tonks, cover me.” He said in his deep voice.

“Got it.” She said from behind him, wand pointed steadily at the Wizard, who was unlikely to attack anyone while he was so thoroughly bound and stunned.

Kingsley took off the mask.

“Madame Bones, it’s Jordan Jones.” Kingsley said, surprise coloring his voice.

“The Auror mailroom clerk?” Amelia asked.

The Aurors set up a perimeter marked with yellow tape via a spell. White robed forensic wizards began gathering evidence in the Atrium and above in the hallways. Harry and Hermione were separated, both of them laughing since through their connection they could still confer had they had anything to hide. Kingsley interrogated Harry and Tonks interrogated Hermione. They told their story, as short and unrevealing as it was.

By the time they left, at the end of the day, they still didn’t know what had caused the mailroom clerk to cast the Killing Curse at them. As they stood in line for the Floo, which would take them to Grimmauld Place, Hermione was talking through the duelist case, not mentioning any details in public, but mostly just murmuring to herself.

“Too bad we don’t have a body.” Harrysaid, “Those forensic wizards would be able to get as much information as if they were talking to him.”

“Talking to him?” Hermione said suddenly, “Harry, you’re a genius!”

“I am?” Harry said, “What did I say this time?”

“Wait until we’re home.” Hermione said, smiling and kissing her husband. Of course, Harry quickly sensed her thought and understood exactly what she was thinking.

How could he have missed it?

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A/N: I left it at a semi-cliff hanger on purpose. I wanted to see if it generated suspense. Let me know what you think. I’d love to hear your theories about what Hermione realized. It’s not that hard, but I think it’ll make them pretty successful as investigators.

I meant to get further than this in this chapter. I hoped to do all of the summer in this chapter. Well, that clearly didn’t happen. So now my plan is to do the rest of summer in the next chapter. We’ll see how that works out.

I’m hitting a bit of a rough spot in my writing. I’ve got a case of life getting busy and wanting to be a perfectionist to end the story strong. If you can help by reading and reviewing, it’s a huge motivation to keep going. I appreciate each and every review I get. So thanks!

35. Back to Black

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything Harry Potter

A/N: I almost never write author notes at beginning, but nobody commented on my little cliffhanger. Is it that obvious or that obscure? You’ll soon see, but I would have enjoyed seeing some speculation.

Chapter 35: Back to Black

Back at Grimmauld Place, Hermione called for Hedwig. Since their bond completed, both of their familiars responded equally to each of them. Which, of course, had prompted Hermione to test whether other magic responded to them as if they shared the same identity. That had been an interesting test and she thought the results might prove important later.

Hedwig flashed to her side so quickly, Hermione suspected she might have half anticipated Hermione’s need to send a message. Hermione quickly wrote out a note on a scrap of parchment and handed it to Hedwig.

“Take this to Dumbledore.” Hermione requested, “Wait for a response. If he comes here, you could bring him or he can come with Fawkes. If he wants us to come there, please come back and we can all go together. Ok?”

Hedwig nodded her head and disappeared.

Harry glanced at Hermione. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier.”

“I know, me either.” Hermione sighed, “We’ve been so busy. We need to take more time for just brainstorming. See what else we’ve missed. Our time on the island might be good for that. We should be careful not to overschedule it.”

Moments later, Hedwig reappeared, carrying a reply from the Headmaster. He invited the Potters to join him at Hogwarts. Despite the strength of the wards on Grimmauld, nowhere were the wards stronger than at Hogwarts, particularly since the wedding night. Harry and Hermione grasped Hedwig’s tail and flashed into existence in the Headmaster’s office. While they could have taken themselves, Hedwig always had liked being useful.

“Ah, two of my favorite students.” Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling, “Although I did not expect to see you during the holiday…unless perhaps I decide to deliver your OWL results personally.”

“You might deliver them personally?” Hermione asked, momentarily distracted from her mission. Harry gently poked her in the side with his elbow and she refocused, “I mean, if you should decide to, that would be wonderful, otherwise we’ll just get them with everyone else. On to the reason we asked to meet you. You were there when Alex told us about his missing friends. We started looking into it, going to the Ministry and meeting with the Aurors who are investigating…”

“I heard what happened.” Dumbledore said, his face grave, but his lip still twitching showing mild amusement that someone who didn’t know him would have missed altogether.

“You don’t miss anything, do you?” Hermione smiled, “This just happened. Well, watching the forensic Wizards prompted Harry to say he wished he had a body, because with forensics, it could just about talk… well, that made me realize we could get any bodies to talk without forensics. If they’re alive, it won’t work, but if they’ve been killed, we can talk to them using the Resurrection Stone.”

Dumbledore paused for a moment, almost a sign of shock in the emotionally controlled Wizard.

“I am surprised I had not thought of that.” Albus said, “Despite the very real ethical concerns, I think this situation does merit the use of the artifact.”

Hermione nodded. “Harry and I agree. We all decided not to use it to summon family members, at least not without extensive consideration, but I think summoning potential murder victims could save lives.”

Dumbledore agreed, “I am very glad you decided to involve me. The Hogwarts wards will ensure no dark presences become involved. Harry, when you are ready, turn the stone over three times while holding the identity of the person you want to summon strongly in your mind.”

Harry held the ring in his hand and focused on the identity of the longest missing duelist, one Segovia Molinero. They didn’t know the man was dead, but they would try each of the missing in turn until they found one who’d passed or discovered they were all still alive. He spun the stone, which pivoted in its setting in the ring which was designed for this. A ghostly presence appeared.

“Who summons me?” a tall, goateed Wizard asked, his body translucent, allowing the office to be seen behind him.

“I am Harry Potter.” Harry said, “I summon you to reveal the circumstances of your passing.”

“Why do you care?” Molinero said, his face melancholy.

“I think you were slain by the killer of my parents.” Harry said passionately, “I seek my own vengeance and to protect others from this murderer. Your information could help me end this threat.”

Molinero looked into Harry’s eyes, reading the young Wizard’s sincerity.

“If you will agree to avenge me, I will tell you all.”

“I will.” Harry replied and a weak pulse showed his commitment in the form of a Wizard’s oath.

“I was offered a teaching position with a British Pureblood family.” Molinero said, “I was told I was to be discrete, because the young son had been challenged and they wanted no one to know who was preparing him. This is not uncommon, so I thought nothing of it and told nobody who had hired me. When I appeared, I was stunned. Despite my abilities, there were simply too many. I met with the Dark Wizard, Voldemort. He had so many of his lackeys with him, I knew even if I escaped, I would be killed before I could do anything significant. He offered me the choice of being tortured to death or training him. Hoping to live, I trained him. He was already clearly a talented duelist, but seemed to be rusty. I quickly honed his skills and then he was too good for me to accomplish much. I was locked in a dungeon for some weeks, I lost track of time since I could not see the sun, however I was fed well and not treated poorly otherwise. Then I was taken out and met one of my friends, Jacques Beauclerc. He told me he had done the same, but had quickly become useless. Together, we were more of a challenge for Voldemort and spent some weeks dueling with him until he could consistently beat us both. Then we were returned to our cells. The next morning I was taken out. I hoped I might have the chance to escape, but I was bound to a ritual altar. Some ritual was performed and I was killed. I think the purpose was to steal my magical power and transfer it to Voldemort, but I am not much of a ritualist. I am afraid my friend may have died the same way.”

The three living looked sad at the lost of two more victims to Voldemort.

“Tell me more about this ritual.” Dumbledore asked.

The horrifying details of the Dark Ritual were described, sickening both Harry and Hermione. The Headmaster looked grim, but had heard and seen many evil things in his lifetime, particularly during his opposition of Gellert and later Voldemort.

“It is as he said, it was a ritual to transfer his power to Voldemort.” Albus said heavily, “Harry, you can dismiss Mr. Molinero. He has provided the information we needed.”

“Wait!” Hermione said, “Mr. Molinero, can you tell us where you were?”

Molinero spoke, “I was initially summoned to the manor house of Lucius Malfoy. I could have been taken elsewhere, but that’s where I was stunned.”

“You have given us the information we needed.” Harry said, “I will do as I agreed and do my best to avenge your death. Please go with my thanks.”

“If you are able to avenge me, you will have my gratitude. I rest poorly knowing my death is unpunished.” Molinero said, fading out.

There was silence for many minutes. Harry paced, but the other two sat still. The intellect in the room was staggering and each was thinking of the consequences of what they’d learned. This changed the delicate balance of their plans.

“I will need to consider this in more detail.” Albus said, “On first consideration, however, it changes everything. I had thought to postpone the confrontation between Voldemort and Harry for as long as possible while Harry grows into his abilities. However, if Voldemort is stealing other Wizards power, he will soon become unmatchable. Luckily, the ritual is imperfect. Most of the power is lost, so each one only adds incrementally to Voldemort’s already immense power, but in aggregate, they become very significant.”

Tears began flowing down Hermione’s face. She knew Harry would have to face Voldemort, but she hoped he might delay the next confrontation. Each time he faced the Dark Wizard, he’d risked his life. She couldn’t bear to lose him. Of course, if he lost, she would die to, which didn’t scare her, because she knew even if she hadn’t died due to the bond, she could not live with the loss.

Harry pulled her closer. Her tears made his fears easier to deal with, because he was able to focus on his love. He knew she wasn’t crying because she lacked confidence in his abilities, she just didn’t want him to have to risk his life against the psychopathic Wizard.

“I agree and have thought it would come sooner rather than later.” Harry said confidently, “The connection is broken, but along with the ability to speak Parseltongue, I think I gained some insight into Riddle. He is anything but lazy. I knew that given time he would come up with something. For now, we’ll keep our plans the same for this summer. Meanwhile, if you work with Ron and run your simulations, we’ll know our best options. I’ll be ready at a moment’s notice and make sure my closest allies are also ready. When you call, your army will be ready.”

Dumbledore smiled, the reference to Dumbledore’s Army touching his heart yet again.

“I will Harry.” Albus said in his most grandfatherly voice, “Enjoy your summer. This will all be over soon.”

“It will.” Harry agreed, his statement carrying all the youthful conviction and passion the young Gryffindor could convey, “My parents, Neville’s parents, all his victims will be avenged.”

H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr H/Hr

When they arrived home to Grimmauld Place, Harry pulled Sirius aside, despite his fatigue.

“Sirius, it’s coming.” Harry said.

Sirius immediately knew what he was talking about. The two had discussed the final meeting more than once.

“What’s happened, pup?” Sirius asked, looking at his Godson intently.

Harry told him about their trip to the Ministry, realizing they could investigate the disappearances magically, and their discovery. Sirius listened intently and seemed to absorb all the information. He reminded Harry a bit of the Weasley twins. On the surface he seemed anything but intellectual. He was a rake, a decadent son of one of the ancient Wizarding houses. He was more interested in women and Quidditch than anything serious. However, all that was secondary to what really motivated him. Sirius had come from a broken home, never fitting in with the traditionally dark Blacks. At Hogwarts, he had found a family where he’d fit in, the Marauders. Particularly alongside his best friend James, whose large personality, leadership ability, sense of humor, and overall bonhomie had gained Sirius’ respect and undying loyalty. James was just as generous with his friends as Harry and had adopted Sirius into the Potter family, where Sirius had spent much more time than with his own. So while not outwardly intellectual, Sirius had a powerful mind, necessary to relate to James and Remus. It was clearly in overdrive now.

“I think Albus is right.” Sirius said, “It’s coming sooner rather than later now. I’ll tell Remus. We’ll be ready, pup.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Harry smiled tiredly at his Godfather.

“No problem.” Sirius said, pausing for a moment. Their relationship, like Sirius’ with James, was based more on male mischief making than emotional expressiveness, but there were times when even men had to open up. “You know you’re not just my Godson? You’re like the son I’ve never had. I’ll be there for you, Harry. No matter what happens, I’ll be there.”

Harry started to grip Sirius’ arm, but abandoned that and pulled him into a firm embrace.

“I know.” Harry said, “Don’t let anything happen to you. I don’t want to lose any of my family. We’ve lost enough.”

Sirius nodded, not trusting his voice. He stood and went to find Remus. The two would spend the night calling various acquaintances, starting to stand up old networks of friends loyal to the Marauders. Not telling them any details, they just told them old fights were coming to a head and to be ready.

Harry went to bed, finding Hermione had gotten it ready. They spent time exercising their bond, which was now so wide that it was always open. They practiced occlumency and legilimency together as they did every night. Finally, they poured their excess magic into the Grimmauld Place wards. They had conferred about whether it was a good idea to deplete themselves like that. Nobody knew when Voldemort would decide to strike. However, their cores were still developing and as they’d been taught early on in their bond, their growth was encouraged by depletion. Ultimately, they’d decided it was worth the chance they’d be caught magically exhausted. A good night’s sleep always revitalized them, so it wasn’t much of a window for Voldemort to exploit. As the final fight grew closer and closer, they’d have to consider whether they should continue, but for tonight at least they fell asleep drained.

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Tensions increased through the summer. The Ossuary, the Bones’ family’s ancestral manor, was attacked. Amelia Bones was the obvious target and would have been killed if it weren’t for Dumbledore’s preparations.

Unfortunately, their preparations were not universally successful. Emmeline Vance, a member of the Order, was killed. She was on a secret mission, likely protecting the Muggle Prime Minister, who survived.

A Muggle bridge was destroyed, fitting Ron’s predictions for how Voldemort would seek to cause chaos in a campaign of asymmetric warfare. Despite knowing his likely tactics, it was impossible to defend every possible target.

Molly was as good as her word and they soon received invitations to a party at the Burrow. A manic little owl bumped into the window at Grimmauld, carrying the invitations. They would be celebrating Fred and George’s graduation from Hogwarts. It was hoped their NEWT results would arrive before the party, although the timing would be close.

Harry and Hermione had a slower summer, trying to rest and still prepare. They spent most of their time together, some of it alone, but much of it with Remus, Sirius, and the elder Grangers. Although it went unsaid, all of them knew the confrontation was coming and nobody knew who would survive, so all of them tried to spend as much time together as possible. Tonks was over often despite frequent teasing.

The morning of the party, Harry and Hermione flooed over to the Burrow. They could have flame traveled, but it was more polite to Floo.

“Good morning, dears!” Molly said, rushing over to them while wiping her hands on a towel, “You’re here early!”

She hugged Harry first, pulling him to her massive bosom and trying to squeeze the life out of him. Releasing Harry, she pulled Hermione into her embrace.

“We thought we could help you finish getting ready.” Hermione said, “We know you probably don’t really need it, but we thought we’d offer. Dobby and Winky said they’d like to chip in, too.”

“Well…I’m on schedule for having everything ready, but it would be nice…” Molly said.

Hermione smiled and mentally communicated with Winky and Dobby. They had been able to communicate silently since they’d formed the House Elf bond and learned House Elf apparition. The two elves popped in and started working rapidly, happy to be able to contribute. Soon there were larger mounds of food than usual at the Burrow and the kitchen was spotless.

Molly’s mouth opened and closed. She was not accustomed to House Elf help as the Weasleys had lacked House Elves since they were one of the few poor Pureblood families.

“I guess I’ll go clean myself up.” Molly said, “Ron and Ginny are upstairs.”

The two Weasleys were still in pajamas. Hermione went into Ginny’s room to prod her into getting ready, while Harry walked into Ron’s room.

“Hey, mate, having a lie in?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Ron said, “I was at Hogwarts until late last night. Working with Dumbledore.”

“Ah,” Harry said, casting heavy privacy charms around the room, “what have you come up with?”

“Nothing changed from what you talked about.” Ron said, “The simulations confirmed this changes the timetable. Based on the number of kidnapped duelists and your progress… well, the sooner the better. If you face him before the summer is over, you’ve got a good chance.”

“Good?” Harry asked, looking at Ron penetratingly. His legilimency was strong and although he refrained from probing his friends, he detected some deceit automatically.

“Well…” Ron said, not wanting to say what he knew, “at least fifty-fifty. Of course, he knows you’ll probably figure it out, so there are a lot of scenarios where he tries to kick off the final confrontation to catch you unprepared. So you have to be ready at all times. He likes to be the aggressor.”

“True.” Harry said, “He sought my parents out despite the Fidelius. Where?”

“Not Hogwarts.” Ron said, “The wards there won’t break. They’re so overpowered after your wedding night that even Voldemort and all his Death Eaters couldn’t break them before every Auror could be there. They would be caught between the wards and the Aurors. It would be a massacre. Not Grimmauld. The Fidelius there will protect you. Not Black Isle. We don’t think he knows about it.”

Ron seemed to gather himself.

“To be honest, the Burrow is a possibility. The Order is on high alert today. The wards here are strong, but nothing compared to Hogwarts and everyone knows where we are. The other big possibility is Diagon Alley. You go every year to buy things for the school term. He knows that and might try to ambush you.”

Harry thought about that.

“That’s a problem. One of our weaknesses is that we care about collateral damage. He doesn’t.” Harry mused aloud, “If he chooses Diagon Alley, we’ll have to be careful not to hurt anyone else, while he’ll take advantage of that.”

“Yeah, mate.” Ron agreed, “You could not go this year, but if you delay, the chances of him getting too strong for you to defeat get higher and higher.”

“Ok, let’s talk about something else.” Harry said, “We’ll keep our eyes open today, but I think he’ll wait for Diagon Alley.”

The Potters pushed the Weasley siblings to get ready and then they gathered in the Burrow’s kitchen so they could eat a late breakfast. While they were sitting around the kitchen table, Luna and Neville walked in together, splitting up to go to their respective significant other.

“Hi, Ronald!” Luna said, kissing her boyfriend, totally unconcerned that his mother would see. Ron turned bright red, but Molly just chuckled, not saying anything.

Neville was more circumspect, giving Ginny a very proper hug. The fiery little redhead rolled her eyes and pulled him into a kiss, which he returned.

The group was all together when the twins flooed in from their flat in Diagon Alley. They’d obviously been working hard, as both looked tired, but exuberant.

“Good morning!” they both said simultaneously.

“Harry!” George said, “You’ll be happy to know we’re on schedule.”

“We plan to open in two weeks!” Fred said, “We’ll catch most of the Hogwarts business.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said.

“Want to take an ad?” Luna asked, “We’ve still got space in the next issue.”

The twins exchanged a look, communicating non-verbally.

“Of course!” they both said, “We should take space in the Quibbler. We understand your circulation has increased a lot recently, but we should probably take space in the Prophet and maybe Witch Weekly, too. We’ve started a product line just for Witches.”

“Since the stories about Harry, we’ve seen an increase.” Luna said smiling, “Daddy is so excited, because now we can get the word out about the Snorkack and the Rotfang Conspiracy.”

A handful of post owls flew in to the Burrow, carrying letters. One stopped in front of Harry, one in front of Hermione, one in front of Ron, one in front of George, and the last in front of Fred. They all stuck a leg out.

“Oh, Merlin!” Hermione exclaimed, “OWL results!”

Harry smiled, “Calm down, Hermione, you know you did well!”

They each took the letter from their respective owls. Each opened them, but unanimously they waited for Hermione to read hers.

“I did it!” she cried, holding them aloft, “I got Outstandings!”

Harry smiled at his wife, gathering her into a hug. All her friends smiled at her enthusiasm. Far from being annoyed by her perfectionism, as she’d moderated it they’d become much more accepting.

“What about you, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I got the same.” Harry replied, holding up his results. His theory grades were sometimes slightly lower, but his practical exam grades were the same and in balance he’d gotten the same grades. One grade stood out on both, Defense Against the Dark Arts was an O+ with an asterisk.

“What does the asterisk mean?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know.” Harry said, reading through, “Oh, here it is at the bottom. Highest grade in the ICW this year.”

The twins whistled. “Wow, Harry, that’s really rare!”

“You must have tied!” Ginny said, “Hermione got another one, though.”

They looked and Hermione also had an O+ with an asterisk in Transfiguration.

“Oh, Professor McGonagall will be so proud!” Hermione gushed, “I need to show my parents! I’ll be right back. Wait, did everyone else get what you wanted?”

They all laughed at how excited the young intellectual was.

“I did ok.” Ron said, “Passed everything, thanks to Luna no doubt. Only got an E in potions, so looks like auror is out.”

“How about you guys?” Harry asked, looking at the twins.

“Our dear mother will be proud.” Fred smiled.

“NEWTs in Defense, charms, transfiguration, and potions!” George called.

“We got outstanding in Defense, thanks to Harry!” Fred added.

“And potions, no thanks to Snape!” George laughed, “He refused to let us take the NEWT class, but we challenged the test and got O’s!”

Molly had heard this discussion and ran into the kitchen squealing. She hugged both twins, babbling she was so happy. She’d half expected them not to take their NEWTs, but they’d taken them and gotten four NEWTs, enough to open up numerous careers when they got tired of their silly joke business, which she was sure they would do eventually.

Guests started showing up, including Oliver Wood, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie, all old friends from the Quidditch team. Some friends from the DA were invited, including Cedric and Cho.

They all moved out to the garden, where Dobby and Winky had setup tables full of food and drinks. A mild cooling charm kept the temperature comfortable despite the heat of summer. Given the friends the twins attracted, it was a very fun party with lots of laughter.

“What are you doing this summer, Cedric?” Harry asked.

“Going on a tour of Europe.” Cedric replied, his arm loosely around Cho’s waist, “My dad wanted me to take a vacation before I start work at the ministry in the fall.”

“That sounds fun!” Hermione said, “Going alone?”

Cho blushed, “No, I’m going with, Hermione.”

“That’s great!” Hermione said, smiling, “That’ll make it more fun.”

“Yeah.” Cedric said, smiling at his girlfriend, “It’ll be a nice break for her, too, before she has to worry about NEWTs and probably Headgirl responsibilities.”

“Headgirl?” Hermione asked, suddenly interested.

“Oh, I don’t know, yet.” Cho said, “Cedric thinks I’ll be picked, but I don’t think so.”

“She’ll be picked.” Cedric said confidently, “After all, the outgoing heads are part of the nomination process.”

The twins pulled Harry aside.

“We’ve got more news, besides the opening schedule going well.” Fred said.

“We managed the animagus transformation.” George said, grinning.

“Wow, that’s fast!” Harry said.

“Well, to be honest, we’d already done a lot of research on our own.” Fred explained.

“The book was dead useful, though.” George continued, “It laid it out very clearly, so we were able to pick up our pace from where we already were.”

“So what are you?” Harry asked.

“Well, it’s a bit embarrassing, really.” Fred said.

“Not sure it’s a really useful form.” George said mournfully.

“Lots of fun, though.” Fred grinned.

“Well, you’ll have to show me sometime.”

“You know we will.” The twins replied.

After hanging out in the garden for several hours, Katie Bell suggested Quidditch. Looking around the group, nobody was opposed, so they all grabbed brooms and headed to the Weasley’s Quidditch pitch.

“We’ve got too many seekers!” Cedric laughed, looking at Harry and Cho.

“I can play chaser.” Cho said, looking lovingly at Cedric.

“What if we have ‘old school’ and ‘new blood’ teams?” Oliver proposed.

“That could work.” Harry said, looking around. The idea really played into his plan to get his closest friends playing Quidditch on the Gryffindor team. A trial run wasn’t a bad idea.

“Harry could captain one team, Oliver could captain the other.” Ron said, “Unless Cedric wants to captain the old school team? I just thought since Oliver was playing pro…”

“No, that’s a great idea!” Cedric said.

“Ok.” Oliver agreed, “I can be keeper, Cedric seeker, Fred and George beaters, Angelina and Alicia chasers?”

“I want to be on Cedric’s team, too.” Cho said quietly.

“I think we can do that.” Harry said, “On my team Ron will be keeper, I’ll be seeker, Hermione, Ginny, and Katie can be chasers. Neville will be one beater, Luna I know it doesn’t really fit, but would you be the other?”

“Sure, Harry.” Luna said, “I’d be happy to.”

They all mounted up and started playing. Many had thought the game would be really poorly balanced, since the old school team had a professional player along with experienced players in every other position. Meanwhile the new blood team had inexperienced players in most of the positions, including Neville and Hermione who’d never played a Hogwarts game and Luna who’d never picked up a beater’s bat. However, they didn’t account for the Potters’ phoenix affinity for flight and for auramancy. Harry could have ended the game at any time, since he could easily detect the Snitch. Hermione surprised everyone, flying like nobody except Harry could and scoring even against Oliver Wood, a professional keeper. Neville lacked confidence, but improved rapidly. Placing Neville in a position where he felt obligated to protect his friends was brilliant, because seeing Ginny in any danger drove him to insane bouts of courage and performance, almost knocking George off his broom when he hit the Bludger at her. Luna was equally protective in her weird way of Ron and since beaters typically protected the chasers and the keeper, that was a perfect setup.

They played until dark, Harry avoiding the Snitch until twilight, then rapidly swooping in and grabbing it to win the game 300 to 290.

“Good game!” Cedric said, characteristically sportsmanlike.

“I taught him everything he knows.” Oliver said, smiling proudly at Harry.

Everyone laughed at that, knowing Harry was a natural at seeker.

“Wow, it’s getting cold fast.” Ginny remarked, hugging her arms to herself.

Luna looked worried. “Something’s not right…” she started.

Harry and Hermione came to the same conclusion simultaneously.

“Dementors!” they cried, dropping wands into their hands and calling out the incantation loudly, “Expecto Patronum!”

Two shining deer sprang forth, a stag with a huge deadly looking rack and a doe with a protective glint in her eye and sharp hooves. They circled the Quidditch pitch and the feeling of cold and sadness seemed to lift, freeing the others from the descending pall. Soon all the DA members had their wands out and were crying out, “Expecto Patronum!”

Cho’s swan flew out, staying close to Cedric’s badger. Ginny’s horse and Neville’s lumbering bear stuck close together, too. Ron’s terrier stayed close to Luna’s hare. The twins shared an embarrassed look, but conjured their patronuses, a pair of orangutan monkeys. Katie summoned a common kestrel. Alicia summoned a red fox. Angelina summoned a stoat. Oliver stood wide-eyed, surprised at how many of the younger crowd could conjure patronuses. It was a really difficult spell and even though he’d seen it in NEWT level DADA, he’d never learned it.

The mass of patronuses broke up the cluster of Dementors before they could get close enough to affect the DA members strongly. The Dementors had been instructed to seek out Harry and his friends, which was lucky, because if they’d hit the house, they could have overwhelmed the Weasleys before they had a chance. Harry’s patronus alone had driven away a hundred dementors two years previously. With Hermione’s just as strong and over ten more to assist, the dementors fled like a fog evaporating under bright sunlight.

“Come on, let’s get to the house!” Harry called out, “Keep your wands out and be ready!”

They formed up and jogged to the house, ready to face more dementors or Death Eaters, whichever confronted them. As they ran into the house, they almost ran over Molly, who was again drying her hands on a dish towel.

“Hello, dears.” She said, startled slightly by how quickly they ran in, “What’s gotten into you?”

“Dementors!” Ron called out.

“Excuse me?” Molly asked, “Did you say dementors?”

“Yes, mum!” Ginny said, “There were hundreds, but we drove them away. We have to get ready, there may be Death Eaters coming!”

To Molly’s credit, she called for Arthur. The young Wizards and Witches told them the story and he called the Ministry via Floo. Minutes later a quick reaction team of Aurors surrounded the Burrow, led by Shacklebolt.

“Ah, Harry Potter.” He said in his deep voice, “Why am I not surprised you are present?”

He directed the Aurors to set up a perimeter and then debriefed the guests. After getting the story from everyone, he seemed surprised when Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the auror office, arrived on site.

“Shacklebolt,” Scrimgeour said, “do you have everything under control?”

“Yes, Chief.” Shacklebolt said respectfully.

“Very well,” Rufus replied, “I want to do my own questioning. I’ll start with…you, what’s your name?” he asked, looking directly at Harry. Given that the entire Wizarding world could identify Harry by sight, Harry thought his pretense rather transparent. The Weasleys looked at each other, clearly not believing it, either.

“Harry Potter.” He said dryly.

“Ah, Harry Potter.” Scrimgeour said, “Come this way and I’ll ask you a few questions.”

Harry shook his head, but resigned himself to talking to the Head Auror. They walked out to the Weasley’s garden.

[A/N: some text taken directly from HBP and belongs to JKR, as all Harry Potter does.]

“So, Mr. Potter,” Scrimgeour started, “I have wanted to meet with you for weeks now, but Dumbledore prevented it. He’s very protective of you. Your actions at the Ministry have caused quite a commotion. Minister Fudge is no longer Minister and the process has begun to choose the next one. I am one of the stronger candidates. Now that You-Know-Who is back, our world will be looking for someone who can confront his menace.”

Harry nodded. There was nothing so far that he disagreed with. He was a little uncomfortable, given his new intern status in the Auror office, which he wasn’t even sure if Scrimgeour was aware of. Given the apparent rivalry developing between Scrimgeour and Amelia Bones, Harry doubted it. He liked Amelia, perhaps predisposed to like her due to his friendship with Susan, but given his tendency to loyalty, he certainly wasn’t going to abandon her for this stranger.

“I think you and I could work closely together.” Scrimgeour said, looking closely at Harry, who could feel a fluttering probe against his occlumency shields, “There are many rumors circulating about a prophecy and whether you’re the Chosen One. Have you and Dumbledore discussed this?”

Harry considered what he would tell the old auror. He didn’t want to be rude, but at the same time he wouldn’t reveal what he and Dumbledore had discussed.

“We’ve discussed a lot of things.” Harry said, trying to be as polite and pleasant as the Chief Auror had been, “Those were private conversations and I’m not comfortable discussing them.”

“Does it even really matter if you’re the Chosen One?”

Harry had to mull that one over for a few seconds before responding.

“I don't really know what you mean.”

“Well, of course, toyou it will matter enormously,” said Scrimgeour with a laugh. “But to the wizarding community at large ... it's all perception, isn't it? It's what people believe that's important.”

Harry said nothing. He thought he saw, dimly, where they were heading, but he was not going to help Scrimgeour get there. A gnome under the rhododendron was now digging for worms at its roots and Harry kept his eyes fixed upon it.

“People believe youarethe Chosen One, you see,” said Scrimgeour, “They think you are quite the hero - which, of course, you are, Harry, chosen or not! How many times have you faced He Who Must Not Be Named now? Well, anyway,” he pressed on, without waiting for a reply, “the point is, you are a symbol of hope for many, Harry. The idea that there is somebody out there who might be able, who might even bedestined to destroy He Who Must Not Be Named- well, naturally, it gives people a lift. And I can't help but feel that, once you realize this, you might consider it, well, almost a duty, to stand alongside the Ministry, and give everyone a boost.”

The gnome had just managed to get hold of a worm. It was now tugging very hard on it, trying to get it out of the frozen ground. Harry was silent so long that Scrimgeour said, looking from Harry to the gnome, “Funny little chaps, aren't they? But what say you, Harry?”

“I don't exactly understand what you want,” said Harry slowly. "Stand alongside the Ministry" ... what does that mean?”

“Oh, well, nothing at all onerous, I assure you,” said Scrimgeour. “If you were to be seen popping in and out of the Ministry from time to time, for instance, that would give the right impression. And of course, while you were there, you would have ample opportunity to speak to Gawain Robards, who I envision as my successor as Head of the Auror Office. Dolores Umbridge had told me that you cherish an ambition to become an Auror. Well, that could be arranged very easily ...”

Harry felt anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach, he’d never hoped to hear Umbridge’s name again now that she was in Azkaban.

“So basically,” he said, as though he just wanted to clarify a few points, “you'd like to give the impression that I'm working for the Ministry? For you, in particular?”

“It would give everyone a lift to think you were more involved, Harry,” said Scrimgeour, sounding relieved that Harry had cottoned on so quickly. “The "Chosen One", you know ... it's all about giving people hope, the feeling that exciting things are happening ...”

“But if I keep running in and out of the Ministry,” said Harry, still endeavouring to keep his voice friendly, “won't that seem as though I approve of what the Ministry's up to?”

“Well,” said Scrimgeour, frowning slightly, “well, yes, that's partly why we'd like…”

“No, I don't think that'll work,” Harry said pleasantly, “I’m not sure I’m very happy with the Ministry at all. I’m starting to repair that relationship and have been working with Madame Bones, but I don’t see where you come in at all.”

Scrimgeour did not speak for a moment, but his expression hardened instantly.

“I would not expect you to understand.” he said, and he was not as successful at keeping anger out of his voice as Harry had been, “Amelia may seem to be the best choice for Minister, but she does not have the right connections. These are dangerous times and they call for a firm hand. You’re only fifteen, I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Dumbledore's a lot older than sixteen and he seems to believe Madame Bones is an excellent choice.” said Harry, realizing Scrimgeour was trying to say that a woman couldn’t be right during a time of war and knowing what Hermione would think of that. He himself wasn’t comfortable with that kind of thinking. “I’m starting to think you’re only concerned about your own prospects.”

They looked at each other, long and hard. Finally Scrimgeour said, with no pretence at warmth, “I see. You prefer - like your hero Dumbledore – to make the wrong associations?”

“I won't be used,” said Harry.

“Some would say it's your duty to be used by the Ministry!”

“Some might, but they’ll never have my cooperation.” Harry said sternly, “You’re trying to pretend you've got the Chosen One working for you!”

“So you're not the Chosen One?” said Scrimgeour.

“I thought you said it didn't matter either way?” said Harry, with a bitter laugh. “Not to you, anyway.”

“I shouldn't have said that,” said Scrimgeour quickly. “It was tactless…”

“No, it was honest,” said Harry. “One of the only honest things you've said to me. You don't care whether I live or die, but you do care that I help convince everyone you're the one to win the war against Voldemort. I haven't forgotten the last year.”

He raised his right fist. There, shining white on the back of his cold hand, were the scars which Dolores Umbridge had forced him to carve into his own flesh:I must not tell lies.

“I don't remember you rushing to my defence when I was trying to tell everyone Voldemort was back. The Ministry wasn't so keen to be pals last year.”

They stood in silence. The gnome had finally managed to extricate its worm and was now sucking on it happily, leaning against the bottom-most branches of the rhododendron bush.

“What is Dumbledore up to?” said Scrimgeour brusquely. “Where does he go, when he is absent from Hogwarts?”

“No idea,” said Harry.
“And you wouldn't tell me if you knew,” said Scrimgeour, “would you?”

“No, I wouldn't,” said Harry.

“Well, then, I shall have to see whether I can't find out by other means.” Scrimgeour said and Harry felt the mental probe he’d felt earlier hit him much stronger. He cut it off with the slightest effort, watching Scrimgeour recoil.

“You can try,” said Harry indifferently. “But you seem cleverer than Fudge, so I recommend you learn from his mistakes. He tried interfering at Hogwarts. You might have noticed he's not Minister any more, but Dumbledore's still Headmaster. I'd leave Dumbledore alone, if I were you.”

There was a long pause.

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you, Potter?”

“Yeah, I am,” said Harry. “Glad we straightened that out.”

Scrimgeour stalked off, gathering up his entourage and Flooing out. Harry worried he’d destroyed his chance of becoming an auror, but he’d grown enough to know he would be successful at whatever he chose to do. If Scrimgeour black balled him it would be his loss. He had a feeling Amelia was a better friend, anyway. Since she’d survived, Harry imagined she would be the next Minister for Magic.

Harry walked back in, Hermione catching his eye and joining him, leaning against him supportively.

“Don’t worry love.” She whispered, “You’re right, he needs you more than you need him.”

“Thanks, Mione.” He said, filled with his love for this brilliant young woman.

They congratulated the twins on their NEWTs and graduation again before returning to Grimmauld Place. Harry amused Sirius by retelling the conversation with Scrimgeour before they all went to sleep.

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28 July

Harry and Hermione packed and shrunk their trunks down. They were ready to greet their guests. Neville showed up first, conscientious as always. Luna wandered over next, barefoot but otherwise dressed. Ginny and Ron Flooed in last, on the verge of being late as always. Harry brought them all into the kitchen where they enjoyed some breakfast.

“So, mate, what are we going to do this summer?” Ron asked.

“We’re going to keep developing our skills.” Harry said, “We won’t have to be quite as intense as before, since we’ve already built a good foundation, but we really need to polish it and be ready.”

“Sounds good.” Ron said and sensing that Harry was nervous given their conflict last year he continued, “Don’t worry about last year. I’m over all that. I know what’s at stake.”

“Good.” Harry said, grinning at his friend, but then turned more serious, “This could be the last summer for any of us. I don’t mind saying there’s nobody I would rather spend it with. I think we’re going to win, but if I die opposing Voldemort, there’s nothing I’d rather die for and nobody I’d rather die with.”

He looked around the table and everyone was able to look him in the eyes. They were all on board. It might seem strange for teenagers to be able to face this, but it was always the young who really fought wars.

After they’d eaten, Sirius came down and enchanted a portkey. They all took it to Black Isle, where it was still night. They all put their things away and then went to sleep for a short nap, hoping to reset their inner clocks. They didn’t even pretend to have their own rooms this year. Molly wasn’t staying, since Arthur was too busy at the Ministry, and Sirius didn’t care. He just smirked and made totally inappropriate comments.

“If you need me to teach you the contraception charm, let me know.” Sirius said, “If you don’t and have children, you have to name them after me.”

Harry woke when the first tendril of light peeked into the room. They’d planned the first day without any real commitments so they could get readjusted. They met on the porch and had a second breakfast. Harry considered his friends. They’d all changed in the last few years. His conversation with Ron had brought the changes to the top of his mind. Ron had lost an arm…and gained a replacement. He’d sworn his loyalty to Harry and while it seemed weird, it had seemed to resolve their intermittent conflicts. Harry wasn’t sure whether it was the oath, Ron’s training, or Ron’s relationship with Luna that had really changed him. Luna was a good influence on him. Ron had been raised with a bit of a rigid sense of right and wrong or rather proper and improper. Women who exhibited any sexuality were “scarlet women”, yet men were expected to be sexually aggressive. Luna, rather than being rigid, was just the opposite. She was such a free spirit that she was forcing Ron to loosen up just to keep up with her. She sat at breakfast in a nightgown and not much else and rather than be shocked, like he once would have been, Ron was placid. He had noticed. Harry had caught him giving his beautiful girlfriend the once over when she’d walked in, but he hadn’t said anything and his ears hadn’t changed colors. Whether it was his worldview that had changed or whether he just trusted Harry and Neville not to gawk, it all came to the same thing. Ginny was raised the same way, but had rebelled from her mother’s beliefs. Harry thought Neville anchored her and kept her rebellion from getting out of hand. Harry and Hermione had both worried that when she decided to rebel, she might end up promiscuous just to set herself apart from Molly’s beliefs. She hadn’t and they both credited Neville’s steady presence and influence. She was wearing a pair of knickers and a long camisole, which her mother would have never approved of. Ron didn’t say anything to her, either, which was another change. Hermione was wearing a pareo tied under her breasts. Having watched her dress, Harry knew it was her only garment. He was wearing one around his waist. Ron was wearing Chudley Cannon boxers and tee. Neville was wearing a pair of flannel pants which showed off his impressive upper body development.

“We thought we might go to Hidden Bay and spend the day at the beach.” Hermione offered, “Does that sound good to everyone?”

They all nodded happily.

“Ok, why don’t we meet here in a few minutes ready to go?” Hermione suggested, “I’ve got sun protection potion and the House Elves will bring everything else.”

“Then do we need anything else?” Luna asked, “We could go now.”

“Do you need a swimsuit?” Hermione asked neutrally, not suggesting she cared about the response.

Luna giggled. “Not really. I told you last year they don’t make a lot of sense to me. I think I convinced Ronald my way makes more sense.”

Ron colored a bit, but nodded.

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who looked down for a minute, but then back up grinning. “I’ve got my knickers on. That’s enough to start with.”

Hermione shrugged, chuckling. “I thought we’d eventually get there. I didn’t expect everyone had already decided the same thing I did.”

“We’d live and die for each other.” Ron said, “I know I’ve always been the prig of the group…well, when it wasn’t you, Hermione, but that makes all the difference in the world to me. I had to decide. Am I Percey or more like Fred and George? Not much of a decision, really.”

Neville cleared his throat.

“You’re my friends. That’s all I care about.” He said.

They portkeyed to the beach and Harry showed Neville how well the Dragon Palms were growing. They’d survived the transfiguration during the Potters’ brief honeymoon and thrived. With a complicated swish and flick of the Elder Wand, Harry transfigured them to a simpler sun-shade. The House Elves set up some carpets to keep them off the sand and some chests full of cold drinks, then disappeared.

Luna ran around in the sand, digging her toes into the warm white sugary sand. She giggled and then stretching her arms out 90 degrees from her sides, she spun in place, her blonde hair spreading around her head in a fan. Eventually she grew dizzy and would have fallen, but Ron caught her, flesh-and-bone arm on the right and silver arm on the left, both as gentle as could be.

“I think she likes it.” Hermione giggled herself, looking out over the sand, the water, the beautiful bay. She loved this spot and felt no other spot belonged to her and Harry quite as thoroughly as this one. She could feel it resonating with their magic, their wards having gathered strength from the natural magic of the location. She felt like the earth itself welcomed them home. After enjoying a few quiet moments, she spoke aloud, her conscientiousness asserting itself for a moment. “Come on, everyone put on some potion before you burn.”

Hermione tossed flasks to each of them.

Luna dropped her nightgown unashamedly. Hermione appreciated how beautiful the blonde Ravenclaw was, inside and outside. Her complete unselfconsciousness had left its imprint on their group as much as Harry’s dogged heroism, Neville’s loyalty, her own intellect. They had somewhere along the way become one in a way, a group of friends so tight it would never be broken. The Golden Trio had become the Black Isle six and they were siblings at heart no matter how they were actually related.

She untied and shed her own pareo. Harry started rubbing potion all over her body, making it a massage as much as a necessity. She sighed, enjoying her bondmates touch. She’d learned there was so much benefit to having the connection they had. She could never tell another person exactly how to rub her back to be just the perfect pressure, but she didn’t even have to tell Harry. He knew.

He finished and they traded places. She rubbed potion on every inch of him, appreciating the lean muscle he’d developed. She glanced over and saw Ginny getting a protective coating from Neville. She’d apparently decided not to stick out and had ditched the knickers. Harry had removed his pareo, also nude. The other two had emulated him, although Neville was sitting modestly, trying not to flash anyone.

They spent the day playing in the water and basking in the sun. It was very restful and although at times they felt guilty for taking time away from their preparation, they all benefitted from the downtime.

“Hey, Nev.” Harry asked lazily while he soaked up sunlight, “What are you planning to do when you graduate?”

“That’s a good question, Harry.” Neville said, “You know I really like herbology and I want to study with Professor Sprout, but I think I want to become an auror first. It would be a connection to my parents. I’ve really enjoyed the DA and I think I’m good at it.”

“That’s for sure, Neville.” Ron allowed, “You’ve picked it up quicker than just about any of us.”

“Thanks, Ron.” The shy young man said sincerely.

“What about you, Ron?” Hermione asked, “You’ve always said auror, too, like Harry, but I’ve honestly always wondered whether you’d rather play Quidditch.”

Ron stretched in the sun. If it hadn’t been for the powerful sun protection potion, he would be red as a lobster, but with it he was completely protected.

“I’ve been looking into it.” Ron said, “You can do both. After the Auror Academy, they’ll make allowances for the Quidditch season, since it’s only part of the year. You can do it part-time. There are too many people who’ve wanted to do both.”

“I might do that.” Harry said, “I think after this I’ll want a break. I want to do some of everything.”

Hermione laughed.

“It didn’t help that you’ve got a bondmate that feels the same way.” Hermione said, “You want to do everything and I want to do everything, so between us we’ll be lucky to have time to do it all.”

“You two will live forever.” Luna said, “You won’t lack for time. I want to work with you both in the Department of Mysteries and continue to publish the Quibbler.”

“I want to play Quidditch.” Ginny said.

“You will.” Harry said, “All the teams will want someone who can play two positions. You could be seeker or chaser, whatever they need.”

“Do you think we’ll get the chance to do all this?” Ron asked, looking around at his friends.

“I hope so, Ron.” Harry offered. They were all quiet for a long while, considering their own mortality.

“Who wants to do some diving?” Hermione offered, uncharacteristically deciding to be the one to break the mood, “Harry and I can carry you into the air and you can dive in.”

She and Harry changed into their phoenix forms and carried their friends into the air clinging to their long tail feathers. They got over deep water and their friends would release, diving into the surf. Once they were no longer carrying anyone, they could turn back to human form and dive in. Each one tried to dive from higher and higher, laughing and trash talking as they debated who had gone from highest.

Finally, night fell and they grilled some fish on the beach, drank some butterbeer, and told stories around the fire. Harry and Hermione distributed copies of The Marauder’s Guide.

“You’re our closest friends.” Harry said, “Hermione and I have joined the Marauders and want you to join us, too. This guide gives the best way to become an animagus and we think you all have the ability to do it. We’ll help. Read the book and then we’ll walk you through the steps.” He taught them all the password, although they all already knew it from long acquaintance with the map.

They returned to the main Black beachhouse feeling rejuvenated and more deeply connected to one another.

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Master Auror Moody woke them the next morning. They picked up training under him again. This time, while they continued drilling with the combat dummies, there was less of a basic training feeling to it. Harry was still obsessive, continuing long after Ron, but so did Hermione and Neville. Moody just let them each work at their own pace, knowing he’d provided them with the basic tools they needed the previous summer and relying on them to use them to continue to develop. He circulated, providing tips to improve their technique and teaching them situations to use each of the spells he taught.

He added something new, which was tactical training. He started with something he called “Hogan’s Alley”. He, Sirius, and Remus would transfigure an entire building, changing the layout and placing combat dummies. Some were marked as enemies, some as friends, and some weren’t clear which they were but might shoot spells. Moody would send individuals and eventually groups in with specific purposes. Usually it was just to survive, but once they’d gotten better, they were sent in to kill all the “Death Eaters” inside or to rescue hostages.

After weeks of practice at that, Moody had separated them into two groups, usually Harry and Hermione against everyone else, but sometimes it was all the young people against an equal number of Order members. As he found how good Ron was at strategy, he would often put him in charge of developing a strategy for the “Death Eater” side. Harry and Hermione were very skilled tactically and only their sheer abilities let them win consistently.

Bill Weasley showed up several times, teaching them how to take down wards quickly. Nobody knew under what circumstances they’d face Voldemort and if he was behind layers of wards, Moody wanted them to be able to get in after him before he had a chance to escape or to kill hostages or whatever he chose to do.

Remus taught them even more about defeating various dark creatures, including the werewolves they knew he would have.

Severus continued to work with them on occlumency. He pulled Harry and Hermione aside one night.

“Voldemort wants Draco to kill Dumbledore.” Snape said with no inflection.

“Shite.” Harry muttered, provoking a smirk from Snape, who’d hoped to shock them.

“What does Draco say?” Hermione asked.

“He doesn’t want any part of it.” Snape said, “You can’t say no to the Dark Lord, though.”

“No, that might not be healthy.” Harry agreed, “So what’s he going to do?”

“Luckily I’ve taught him occlumency.” Snape said, “He’s pretending to cooperate. Given that in the best case for Voldemort, it would be at the edge of Draco’s ability, he should be able to delay almost indefinitely.”

“Why are you telling us?” Harry asked perceptively.

“Perhaps you’re not as worthless a Gryffindor as I always thought.” Snape said drily, “That was actually a very good question.”

Harry was actually almost shocked at the compliment.

“I swore an unbreakable vow to help him.” Snape said.

“What?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“I had to or expose myself as Dumbledore’s man.” Snape said, “Luckily I was able to phrase it where I swore to help Draco. Knowing Draco doesn’t want to kill Dumbledore, I will help him. I will help him keep from exposing himself and if worse comes to worse, I’ll help him escape the Dark Lord, even if it finally reveals my true loyalties. This role could never last forever and I am beginning to think it is played out.”

Harry looked at Snape, waiting for the rest.

“I…I wanted to tell you, Harry.” Snape said quietly, “Just in case things go to hell. You should know. Someone should know I am not an evil person.”

“I appreciate that, Professor Snape.” Harry said respectfully, “I do understand.”

Snape nodded and turned, his cloak billowing around him, and walked away into the darkness.

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Their friends read the Marauder’s Guide. Once they were done, they came to Harry and Hermione to discuss it. The Potters told them what they’d done, including the decision to brew the potion themselves.

“I could brew the potion for you.” Hermione offered, “I think you can do it for yourselves, though. I can help and with Snape’s instructions I don’t think it will be too hard for any of you.”

She carefully walked them through each step and they carefully did it step by step together. She made sure nobody made any mistakes as they proceeded through it together.

Harry guided them through the meditation, tying it to what they already knew about meditation from Severus’ efforts. Hedwig helped, but singing, making the environment an encouraging one and keeping anyone from becoming disheartened by the difficulty of the process.

Eventually they were all ready to try it.

Ron went first. Harry and Hermione had debated whether he would become a terrier, since often the patronus corresponded, but there were enough counter examples that they weren’t certain that was a law. Ron drank the potion and concentrated on the transformation. He went to all fours and Harry thought he might become a terrier, but he swiftly became too bulky. When he transformed into a giant orange tiger, nobody was too surprised. He was tall for a tiger and gangly, if a tiger could be gangly, but he looked fast and deadly. He ran around the room, gaining his coordination after a few humorous flailing attempts at walking. Luna hugged his neck, burying her face into his orange fur.

“You’re gorgeous!” she gushed, “I’m so proud of you!”

Luna went next after Ron had successfully changed back. She also sank to her knees. A horn started to protrude from her head.

“I don’t believe it…” Hermione started to mumble, “she’s becoming a crumple-horned snorkack.”

As she continued her transformation, she developed pure white hair and graceful powerful proportions. Soon, it was clear she wasn’t a snorkack at all. She was a unicorn.

Ron looked awed. He stroked her pure white coat. She whinnied, a noise that carried almost as much reassurance as phoenix-song.

“You’re truly beautiful.” Ron said, staring at the lovely form of his girlfriend. She carefully walked around the room, growing more confident as she adjusted. Once she transformed back, she was smiling ear to ear.

“It was wonderful!” she said, “I could feel all this purity and light. I never wanted to turn back.”

Neville went next, turning into a giant bear. He was larger than any bear they’d ever seen. Hermione was muttering to herself as she tried to identify him.

“He’s the size of a polar bear, but he’s brown. I think he’s a cave bear, but they’re extinct!”

“Well, Luna’s magical. Why couldn’t Neville be an extinct animal?” Harry asked.

“No reason, I suppose.” Hermione replied, “Some people think cave bears were herbivorous, which would actually make sense.”

Finally, Ginny went, transforming into a peregrine falcon. She hopped and tried to fly, falling a few times before she got airborne. When she changed back, she looked almost as happy as Luna.

“I hoped I could fly!” she said, “Although if I were a horse, I wouldn’t be too broken hearted.”

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They sent invitations to Fred and George to join them on the island for a night. When they arrived, they were sequestered with Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. They were wearing white robes.

“What is this?” Fred asked.

“It seems a bit shady.” George asked, looking around. The twins had had to become very cautious about being pranked, as pranksters they were a favorite target.

Ron put his hand on his older brother’s shoulder.

“Trust me, you’ll like this surprise.” Ron said.

They sat around, waiting. Eventually, someone in a black robe, with hood around the face so his or her face couldn’t be seen came into the room.

“Come with me.” Said the magically generic voice.

The six white robed Wizards and Witches followed the black robed one down a flight of stairs into a plain stone room, barely lit with banks of candles. There were three other black robed figures at the front of the room. Once the white robes were lined up, the tallest of the black robed figures spoke in the flat voice, unidentifiable.

“You have been summoned to be part of a brotherhood.” The black robe said, “This honorable brotherhood is known as the Marauders. I am Padfoot.”

The twins exclaimed in delight before being hushed.

“I am Moony.” Said another.

“I am Smoke.” Said the third.

“I am Fire.” Said the fourth and last, “You have been brought here to be offered a position in our brotherhood. There are requirements which you are believed to have met, but you must demonstrate. Please show us your animagus form.”

Ron changed into his tiger form and back. The twins gawked, clapping their youngest brother on the back, “Good job, Ron!”

Ginny turned to her falcon form and back, receiving more quiet praise.

Neville stunned them when he turned into a giant cave bear, but the reaction was nothing compared to Luna’s transformation into a unicorn, second only to the phoenix amongst avatars of the light.

The twins exchanged half embarrassed looks.

“Well, I suppose we might as well get this over with.” George said.

“Quite right.” Fred answered.

They shimmered and changed, growing bow-legged and hairy, the hair almost the same color as their natural red. Where the twins had stood, there were now two orangutans.

A chuckle was briefly heard from one of the black robes.

The twins changed back, proud of having mastered the transformation even if their forms were not the most useful.

“You have met the requirements and are formally invited to join our brotherhood.” Said Padfoot, “If you choose to join, take a step forward. If you decline, take a step back. You will be taken above and obliviated, never to be invited again.”

They all stepped forward.

“Very well,” Padfoot said, “you are now members of our brotherhood. You will receive your Marauder names.”

Stepping forward, he tapped Ron on the shoulder, “You will be known as Stripes.”

He went to Ginny, “You are Swiftwing.”

He stepped over to Neville, “You will be Strongpaw.”

To Luna he said, “You are Whitehorn.”

He hesitated in front of the twins. What name could he give the two identical apes?

“You are Longarm.” He said to Fred, “You are Cleverfoot.” He said to George.

With a wave of his wand, Remus transfigured all their robes to black.

“Our password will always be “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” Remus said, “The completion phrase is “Mischief managed.”

The existing members then lowered their hoods, revealing their identities.

“Harry!” Fred said, “How did you become a Marauder?”

“You know…legacy.” Harry said.

“Awesome!” George said.

Harry and Hermione showed their animagus forms to those who hadn’t seen them.

The Marauders were reborn, different than they had been, but complete again. Nobody could replace the loss of Prongs and nothing would ever make the betrayal from Wormtail right, but there were new Marauders for the first time in many years. Another wound from Voldemort was beginning to heal.

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A/N: I might have beefed up the Resurrection Stone. I’m not clear whether it can summon any dead the user wants or only loved ones. I decided to be as powerful as the other items, it had to be able to summon any. This may depart from canon as does my modification of the ring it’s mounted on.

I’ve noticed a general trend that readers don’t like when I follow canon too closely. I understand you don’t want to simply re-read the books here. However, with the Scrimgeour scene, that was simply one of my top ten favorite moments and really revealed the relationship between Harry and Dumbledore. It’s the main reason this isn’t a Dumbledore bashing fic. So I had to include it, although I moved it, because it wouldn’t work where it was. I hope you don’t mind it.

Please read and review. I’d love to hear how you think it will end. I’m hoping to make a very action packed chapter next.

36. Diagon Alley

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, but am thankful I get to play in their world.

Chapter 36: Diagon Alley

Aug 29 – Black Isle

Harry lay in bed, remembering one of the best summers of his life. He loved being married. Having Hermione with him all the time was the biggest blessing of his life. Her being in a swimsuit or less most of that time didn’t hurt anything at all.

They had continued to train intensely, but it wasn’t as all-consuming as it had been the previous summer. They knew what they were doing. There was none of the conflict there had been. Back then, they’d still been discovering themselves. Neville had been growing into his potential and since he’d previously been thought of as a near-squib it was a big shock to some. Ron had been threatened by Neville’s growth and Harry’s continued talent for DADA. This summer it was a completely different atmosphere. Neville continued to grow into his skills. His magical talent was even more noticeable as was his drive to continue to develop it. Harry thought his friend was hungry for approval, having been denied it for so long, so he was almost a zealot when it came to training. Ron wasn’t threatened by it this year, though. He still quit sooner than Harry or Neville, but he would sit by the sidelines, watching them and when they were done he’d have some detailed critiques. He managed to see things even Harry didn’t notice. Ron pointed out an extra motion that had crept into Harry’s SPEAR spell, helping him shave a fraction of a second off. Given that each fraction of a second could make the difference, Harry really appreciated it.

Ron had really shone in the “red on blue” scenarios Moody had crafted. After they’d tried different line ups, they’d discovered that any team led by Ron did better than any other unless Harry was leading. So these scenarios came to be a large team led by Ron against a small team led by Harry, often just Harry and Hermione against the world. Ron had hit Harry with every strategy or tactic any of them could think of and Harry felt much more prepared than he’d been before. He thought back to the nightmare seconds in Diagon Alley when Bellatrix had unleashed on him and he’d frozen. He never wanted to be in that situation again. They were headed back to Diagon Alley soon to shop prior to Hogwarts beginning of term and it brought those memories to the surface. Ron and Dumbledore thought there was a good chance Riddle would try to hit them while they were in Diagon Alley. They’d considered skipping it altogether, but they had to end this soon. Voldemort was likely growing stronger and stronger as he sacrificed kidnapped professional duelists to steal their power. Soon he’d be unstoppable. They’d considered attacking him in his lair, which was probably Malfoy Manor based on what they’d learned from the shades of the duelists. They’d even trained for that, but had confirmed what Ron had warned them, that attacking a defensive position was very risky. Drawing Voldemort out, even if it was due to an ambush he set up, would be a better strategy.

Harry’s birthday had been his first as a married man and one of the best ever. All his friends had joined him on the island. They’d spent the day swimming, eating good food, and just being together. He was now 16 chronologically, although with the experience he’d gotten from Voldemort’s soul fragment and his own chaotic life, he felt much older.

He felt a shifting beside him and then his face was being tickled by strands of chestnut hair as Hermione pillowed her head on his chest. She had some really light streaks after so many hours in the tropical sun. Her hair smelled of her unique scent and he breathed it in. He personally thought today might be the day. He didn’t believe in divination, particularly after this experience with Trelawney, but he felt something.

“Ready for today?” she asked aloud. They still liked to talk, even though they could do it all mentally.

“You know I’m not.” Harry said, “I am and I’m not. I think they’re going to hit us.”

“They may.” Hermione said, “If they do, we’ll be ready.”

“I can’t underestimate him.” Harry said, “He’s evil and he’s probably insane at this point, but he’s an evil genius. Nobody except Dumbledore even compares to him.”

“Dumbledore, you, me…” Hermione said, “Don’t underestimate him, but don’t sell yourself short, either. You can do this.”

Harry nodded, a smile crossing his face. He needed Hermione like he needed the air he breathed. She knew just how to keep him out of his funks. She wouldn’t put up with his brooding and he never wanted her to be unhappy with him, so he just…didn’t.

“We don’t want to scare them away, so the aurors are on standby, the Order is on standby.” Harry said, “We’re going into the Alley with you, me, Neville, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks.”

Hermione nodded, looking up from his chest.

“Yes, we are.” She said, “Now let’s enjoy some sun. It won’t be daytime there for hours yet.”

They spent their last day on the island sunning on the beach, napping in the sun, eating fish and tropical fruit. Enjoying all the things they wouldn’t get at Hogwarts.

“Ready for later, mate?” Ron asked.

“Everyone’s asking me that.” Harry grumbled good naturedly.

“Well, don’t be surprised.” Ginny said, “If he does try to hit us, it’ll be the culmination of years of conflict. The whole war could end today.”

Harry took a deep breath and blew it out, calming himself.

“You’ve got this, Harry.” Neville said in his deep voice.

Luna giggled.

“What are you laughing about?” Harry asked, surprised. Her laughter didn’t fit his mood at all.

“You.” Luna giggled, “You’ve spent years training for this. What are you nervous about? You’re ready. For the rest of your life, you’ll look back on this as a culminating moment. Live in the now, not in your fears.”

Harry pondered her words. Was this Luna being her odd self or was this her strange talent for saying exactly what he needed to hear. He decided it was the latter. He was ready. He just hoped there wasn’t any collateral damage. He couldn’t face losing his friends or his family.

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Aug 30 – Diagon Alley

The group portkeyed into a random spot in Diagon Alley in case the ambush was already set. Everyone was wearing dueling robes disguised as regular everyday robes. They carried healing potions Severus had brewed, shrunk to small size and ready to be enlarged and consumed. They each had at least two wands. Harry carried three: his holly wand, his spare ebony wand, and the Elder Wand. They looked around, eyes darting left and right, up and down in a scanning pattern. They used auramancy, looking for unexpected magic, but amongst the overwhelming overlapping auras of Diagon Alley, it was difficult to pick anything out.

“Clear.” Harry said, just loud enough for the rest of the group to hear.

“Clear.” Hermione seconded once she was satisfied.

“Clear.” Luna’s voice piped out.

The rest agreed and they walked into the Alley. Sirius led, while Remus and Tonks were behind, watching their back. The Hogwarts students were grouped in the middle, each with defined fields of fire.

Anti-climactically, Diagon Alley was its usual self. Full with last minute Hogwarts shoppers, the foot traffic was heavy. Harry got numerous looks, as one of the most famous Wizards alive, but nobody seemed overly focused on him. Wizarding paparazzi took pictures, the first flash almost setting Harry off. His hand twitched, almost pulling the Elder Wand, but Hermione’s hand on his arm prevented him.

“Calm, Harry.” She whispered.

They walked to Madame Malkin’s. As they walked in, Madame Malkin greeted them. He was one of her preferred customers. She’d done the clothing for their wedding and the publicity had increased her business significantly.

“Mr. Potter, welcome back!” she said effusively.

“Thank you, Madame Malkin.” Harry said, “Could you please provide the usual?”

He quietly informed her Ron’s robes would be on his tab, appropriate for a sworn vassal to the Potters. Neville covered Ginny’s. The Lovegoods had an account.

They were all measured and she informed them the robes would be ready by the end of the day. They agreed to return for them then.

“Hey, Harry, want to see the twin’s store?” Ginny asked.

“Of course!” Harry said, genuinely excited.

“Me, too.” Sirius said, “Let’s see what they’ve done with our money.”

Remus chuckled at that, eager to see what the Weasleys had done. If it hadn’t been for the war, there was a good chance the original Marauders would have done something similar.

They stepped out into the grey sunlight of the late English summer. They continued to look for trouble, but nothing appeared out of place. Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes was hard to miss, brightly colored amongst the more conservative shops around it. The psychedelic colors were obviously very attractive as the entrance was jammed with children. The group carefully made their way to the door. Luckily, the crowd parted when they recognized who it was.

“It’s Harry Potter!” came one whisper.

“Harry! Hermione!”

“Look, it’s Ron Weasley!”

They walked into the joke shop as word of their presence preceded them.

“Harry!” Fred said, walking up to them, “Welcome to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes! Please take a look around. As our partner, you’re welcome to anything you want, feel free.”

More whispers started about Harry being involved in the business and the already busy business picked up even more.

Harry looked around, seeing many old favorites, like the Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougats, and Canary Creams. Hermione, Ginny, and Luna were laughing at the Wonder Witch products, although Ginny seemed to really like the pygmy puffs.

“Hey, Fred, what about me?” Ron asked, looking at some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, “How much for your brother?”

“Ten galleons.” Fred said.

“For your brother?” Ron asked, sounding hurt.

“Ok, fifteen galleons.” Fred said, walking on.

“How’s the business going?” Harry quietly asked Fred.

“Brilliantly, mate.” Fred said, “It’s been crowded like this since we opened. We’re giving out mail order catalogs with each purchase and we expect our mail order business may be the busiest part during the school year, but we’re doing really well. Padfoot and Moony were able to give us a lot of ideas. They apparently kept detailed notes of everything they did in school, so we’re recreating some of their classics.”

“Great!” Harry said, “I’m happy for you!”

“You should be happy for you, too.” Fred smiled, “We’re already turning a profit. Your first deposit should already be at Gringotts.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Harry said.

“You’re a partner!” Fred said, “Weasleys don’t do charity. I don’t always agree with Ron, but I agree with that.”

“Where’s George?” Harry asked.

“In the back.” Fred said, “He’s working on a new product. Here, I’ll walk you back.”

Fred led Harry through a door behind the counter into a storeroom, then through the storeroom into a workroom. Harry could see heavy wards protecting the rest of the shop in case there was an accident. George sat at a bench with magnifying glasses perched on his nose. He continued what he was doing until he got to a stopping point, then looked up.

“Harry!” George said, “Good to see you, partner!”

“Thanks, George!” Harry said, smiling, “What are you working on?”

“A new and improved decoy detonator.” George replied, “It’s got some complicated clockwork that I’m trying to figure out. Once we have it, we can automate the process, but the first time is always the hardest.”

“Well, good luck, mate.” Harry said, grinning at his old Quidditch teammate.

He walked back into the store, finding everyone ready to continue their shopping. Their spirits had lifted with the hilarious products the store carried. Fred and George really knew how to bring some happiness into the world.

Sirius led out into the Alley, Harry and Hermione behind him. They walked towards the apothecary, needing to restock their supplies prior to Potions. Harry was scanning left and right. His anxiety level, having gone down while they were in WWW, was increasing again. Something didn’t feel right. He looked around. A mum was pushing her baby in a pram. Some children were chasing each other, seeming to head towards Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor. Many, many Hogwarts age children were shopping with their parents. Something still didn’t feel right. Hermione picked up on Harry’s unease and looked around more quickly as well.

Harry looked back at the mum pushing the pram. Nothing looked off…the baby was playing with a rattle…wait, that wasn’t a rattle, it was a wand!

“Wand!” Harry called, dropping the Elder Wand into his hand. The baby actually pointed the wand at him and in a high voice called out a dreaded incantation…

“Avada kedavra!”

Harry quickly summoned a rubbish can into the way, intercepting the green bolt. The can exploded, blown into pieces by the curse. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see many of the shoppers turning towards them, wands in hand. They were all casting Killing Curses!

Harry’s wand danced, summoning more and more debris into the way. Hermione was doing the same, while dodging curses they missed. How could the Death Eaters have gotten so many people into Diagon Alley without being seen?

With all nine of them working to pull debris into the way, they were blocking all the Killing Curses so far, but they couldn’t afford to let any through. If they tried to dodge, there was no telling whether that curse would hit someone else in the group. The disguised Death Eaters weren’t holding back, casting only Killing Curses. This was clearly an attempt to take Harry out.

The blasted baby shot another Killing Curse, which Harry blocked with the mum, who he assumed was another Death Eater, who fell after intercepting the deadly curse. He then levitated the pram, sending it flying to the other end of Diagon Alley, presumably polyjuiced Death Eater still inside.

“I hope I don’t go to Azkaban for child abuse.” Harry grumbled, while still blocking Killing Curses. They couldn’t keep this pace up, there were too many curses, “We’ve got to go!”

He heard a muttered curse from Ron and glanced over. Ron had missed one of his blocks and had to dodge a green bolt, which left an opening for it to head directly at Harry. Harry was caught off-guard and realized he’d never be able to dodge in time.

Suddenly Hermione apparated right into the path of the curse, taking it directly as she threw herself between the curse and her husband.

“No!” Harry cried out, the scream ripping his throat. Not again, not again was all he could think.

Hermione fell, bursting into golden flame.

Multiple pops sounded.

“Harry Potter!” came a babyish sing-song voice, “Letting your wife take curses meant for you? What kind of man are you?”

Harry saw Bellatrix apparate into view and started to hit her with a SPEAR, but had to block a Killing Curse from Lucius Malfoy instead. Bellatrix scooped up the phoenix chick where Hermione had been and disappeared, cackling.

“Harry Potter!” came a sibiliant voice, recognizable from Harry’s worst nightmares.

Voldemort glided into view in his black robes, his white skin gleaming in the faint English sunlight.

“We meet again. Are you prepared to duel me again?”

Harry’s mind was working in overdrive. Bellatrix had taken Hermione! She couldn’t flame travel so soon after a forced burning day. She might be trapped. Voldemort…his friends couldn’t take him without Harry.

“Hedwig!” Harry called, “Get Dumbledore!”

He felt himself descending into that frightening and yet comforting state where his thoughts all became cold and crystal clear. His thoughts seem to speed up, freed from any weight of emotion. The Machine took over and Harry’s options were suddenly clear. If Hermione died, so did he and the war was over. Even if all his friends died, he had his priorities and they all had to know.

“Sirius, I’m going after her. Don’t die.”

He searched in his mind for Hermione’s location even while his wand danced, sending waves of SPEARs flying at his enemies. Lucius had to throw himself out of the way as the cobblestones beneath his feet exploded, sending shards flying.

Harry couldn’t sense her exact location, but at the same time he knew exactly where she was. It was a very strange sensation. He knew where she was, but didn’t know where in the world that was. The location must be unplottable. He’d have to go in blind. If they had set a trap, such as holding her chained above a pool of lava or above a long fall, he’d have to be ready to transform or apparate again quickly.

He pulled the invisibility cloak from where he always carried it and swirled it around him. He used House Elf apparition, disappearing absolutely silently and reappearing in the same fashion.

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Hermione saw Ron’s mistake immediately. He’d simply missed a block, not getting the cobblestone between the green flash of the Killing Curse and himself. Ron threw himself out of the way, so Hermione knew he was safe, at least for the instant, but she always knew where Harry was and she could tell he was in the line of fire. He saw the curse, but wasn’t in position to block or dodge. She was, so she apparated between the curse and Harry, purposefully taking it.

She felt the bolt hit her and her heart immediately stopped. She felt herself burst into flame and woke up in phoenix chick form, much like she had in the Ministry. Bollocks, she couldn’t afford this. She had to transform back quickly!

Suddenly Bellatrix was beside her, scooping her up. She tried to peck the insane Witch, but her short beak didn’t do much to the gnarled hands.

She felt the disorientation of apparition as she was taken somewhere. Bellatrix better be ready for a world of hurt, because as soon as Hermione transformed back, she was going to make the bitch pay!

“No, no, no!” Bellatrix scolded, “Look around. See what we have here? If you transform before I tell you, they all die.”

Hermione looked around and saw hundreds of children sitting on benches around the perimeter of the circular room. Above the children, guards stood on a raised circular tier, watching them closely, wands trained on them. In the middle of the room there was a framework with chains hanging down, steel manacles hanging from the chains.

“We didn’t think you’d want all these children to die. They’re orphans from around London. It is SO easy to walk into a Muggle orphanage, cast a confundus or two, and walk out with dozens of these little tykes.” Bellatrix crowed, “Your hesitance to let them die is your weakness.”

The insane Witch walked to the framework.

“Transform.” Bellatrix commanded, “One wrong move and we’ll Fiendfyre the lot of them.”

Hermione transformed, already crying. She couldn’t doom all these orphans to a burning death, but if she let herself be captured, she might be killing Harry. What could she do?

Bellatrix bound her to the framework, wrists tightly bound by the steel shackles. Hermione could see magic pulsing off them.

“Ah, you noticed, Mudblood.” Bellatrix laughed, “If they open, the spells on this room will cause this lower section to fill with Fiendfyre. They will all burn if your husband tries to rescue you. This room is warded against apparition and portkey. He won’t be able to get in and if he does, it will spell death for all our hostages, you and the children.”

“You won’t survive this.” Hermione said tightly, “He’ll kill every one of you.”

“Oh, he’ll try.” Bellatrix said dismissively, “My master has years more experience than little baby Potter. Perhaps Potter could have been great someday, especially if he agreed to serve the Dark Lord, but I have a feeling he won’t and he’ll never live to meet his potential.”

Hermione looked around the room, catching the eyes of the scared orphans and trying to convey the message that they’d be safe. She hoped they’d be safe.

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Harry apparated into a strange circular room, appearing without a noise, just as a House Elf who didn’t want to disturb his master would. He pulled the invisibility cloak more tightly around him while he looked around. He saw Bellatrix holding the phoenix chick and walking towards a framework in the middle of the room. He saw the children sitting on the floor around the perimeter of the room. Harry had no idea where Voldemort would have kidnapped so many children, but there they were the perfect hostages. Above them were Death Eater guards, wands trained downward on the room. None of them were familiar appearing. They were probably new recruits, the anonymous rank and file of Voldemort’s organization.

Oh, this was a mess! He listened as Bellatrix explained the setup to Hermione.

<Hermione, I’m here.> Harry sent mentally.

<You heard her?> Hermione sent back, keeping her face impassive.

<I did.> Harry said and quickly summarized what he’d heard to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

<That was it.> Hermione sent. Harry could feel the fear and sadness from her. They both knew their friends were still in Diagon Alley facing Voldemort and the majority of his Death Eaters.

<Any ideas?> Harry asked.

<Thinking…> Hermione sent. Harry felt the rushing sensation of Hermione’s mind on overdrive. They’d come up with something, but would it be soon enough?

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In Diagon Alley, Voldemort was not at all surprised to see Harry disappear. It was all happening as he’d planned. He wanted to separate Harry and his Mudblood wife from their friends. He could deal with the friends. He full expected they would escape his death trap, but by then, he would have completed this portion of his plan to destroy Harry Potter.

“Cease fire.” He hissed at his Death Eaters. More and more Death Eaters, disguised with Polyjuice Potion, surrounded the small clump of defenders.

“Ah, Sirius Black.” Voldemort hissed, “I almost feel fond of you. After all, you rotted in Azkaban for years after your supposed work for me.”

“Fuck off, Voldemort.” Sirius spat.

“Is that anyway to speak to your Lord, Blood Traitor?” Voldemort hissed, “I killed your brother and soon I will kill you.”

“Not if Harry kills you first.” Sirius yelled.

“Ah, yes, the great Harry Potter.” Voldemort laughed, “Where is he? He ran away, didn’t he?”

Voldemort walked around as if waiting for something. Many of the Death Eaters seemed to be waiting for the same thing. None of them seemed surprise when Dumbledore appeared in a flash of red and gold flame, holding on to Fawkes’ tail feathers.

“Tom Riddle.” Dumbledore said calmly, “I am surprised you dare to show your face in public.”

“The public I will soon rule!” Voldemort said loudly, “Now!”

Every Death Eater fired stunning charms at the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Voldemort added his power, giant bolts of red flying from his wand. The old wizard, as powerful as he was, was no match for dozens of opponents including the greatest Dark Wizard ever. Deprived of the Elder Wand, he soon fell.

“Dumbledore! No!” Ginny cried.

“Where are the aurors?” Remus quietly asked Tonks.

“I don’t know!” she cried, sobbing, “They were supposed to be prepared for this!”

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The aurors had been prepared. They waited, ready to rush to Diagon Alley if the Death Eaters struck. The moment came and one of them, holding a mirror connected to their scout in Diagon Alley, looked up.

“The Death Eaters are attacking Potter!”

“Strike team, go!” Scrimgeour commanded, sending his handpicked team by portkey directly into Diagon Alley.

The team of ten aurors, holding onto a portkey disappeared. Scrimgeour would have to wait for word, but he expected no resistance that ten aurors couldn’t face. Just in case he prepared his back-up team of ten more.

The initial strike team meanwhile appeared in total darkness.

“Where are we?” one asked his comrades.

“No idea, this doesn’t seem like Diagon Alley.”

“Lumos.” Another cast.

The light illuminated a basement with wizards surrounding them. Red flashes shot from dozens of Death Eater wands and the aurors were unconscious.

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In Diagon Alley, Voldemort himself had trussed up his greatest enemy, Albus Dumbledore, wrapping him in chains and sticking him to a wall with a sticking charm. He cast a Sonorous spell and amplified his voice.

“Wizards, witches, I am Lord Voldemort, the Greatest Wizard ever!” he cried out. He presented an intimidating picture, tall and thin, his skin white, slits for a nose, glowing red eyes. His carriage however was aristocratic and he held his wand with the confidence of a Master, “I have defeated the great Albus Dumbledore and caused Harry Potter to flee. When he returns, I will defeat him, as well. For those who swear their loyalty to me, you will benefit from my patronage. For those who refuse, you will perish! I will bring a new age of greatness to the Wizarding world. Join me!”

He looked around, catching the eyes of everyone around. One exceptionally tall boy stepped out from the group around Sirius Black.

“My name is Neville Longbottom” Neville said, “Heir of the Longbottoms and a Pureblood.”

“Welcome, Neville Longbottom.” Voldemort said expansively, “Welcome to join me.”

“My Lord, you say you’re the greatest Wizard alive?” Neville asked.

“Of course.” Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing.

“Albus Dumbledore is the Greatest Wizard,” Neville shouted, “and Harry’s better than you! You’re nothing but an evil git!”

“Ah, Longbottom. I recognize the name, now. I believe I had your parents tortured into insanity. You seek to join them?” Voldemort said, a smile crossing his face, “Very well. Crucio!”

Neville fell to the ground, writhing under Voldemort’s spell. Voldemort broke off, ending the torture curse. He didn’t want to deplete his strength before Harry appeared.

“Nagini, finish him.”

The snake began to slither towards Neville.

Fawkes, responding to Neville’s loyalty to Dumbledore, flashed next to the boy with the Sorting Hat, much as he’d done for Harry in the Chamber of Secrets.

“Quick, boy, put me on!” the hat cried out.

Neville, twitching, pulled the hat on, feeling something metallic bump into his head.

Voldemort was laughing, watching this scene.

“The bird brings you a dusty old hat to protect you as you’re about to die?” he laughed. The Death Eaters laughed with him.

“Tom Riddle!” the sorting hat called loudly, distracting the Dark Wizard.

“Don’t call me that, foolish hat!” Voldemort snapped.

“Why not?” the Sorting Hat spat back, “It’s what I first knew you as, when you were a boy of eleven. I made the right decision with you, putting you into Slytherin. The darkness I saw in your mind has come to pass, hasn’t it?”

“The darkness that has gone before,” Voldemort said loudly, “is nothing compared to what I will do. Impure blood will stain the streets before I am finished!”

“On behalf of my creator, Godric Gryffindor,” the Sorting Hat shouted, “I have a message for you, Tom Riddle.”

Voldemort moved closer.

“Go fuck yourself.” The Sorting Hat yelled, then laughed.

Nagini lunged at Neville, who pulled the sword from the hat and stumbling back, aimed a beautiful sweeping slice at the lunging snake. The Sword of Gryffindor met the giant snake and cleaved his head from his body with almost no resistance. The sound of a screaming cry, almost human, was heard by all.

“What have you done?” Voldemort cried out, staggering as he felt the pain of his soul fragment being destroyed. He couldn’t help but feel it this close to him. “You do not know what you have done!”

Voldemort leveled his wand at Neville, who threw the Sword of Gryffindor at him. Rubies gleaming in the dim sunlight, the sword flipped end over end, striking Voldemort point first in his lower abdomen, and lodging there. Voldemort gasped and staggered backwards a few steps, looking down at the sword in disbelief.

“You annoying gnat!” he cried, falling to his knees, both hands on the handle of the ancient sword.

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Harry stood next to Hermione, invisible, while they thought.

<I think I have it.> Harry suggested. They discussed his idea and realized it was worth a try. Harry stepped away from Hermione into the very center of the room and threw off his invisibility cloak.

“I am here to save my wife!” he cried out, amplified by a Sonorous charm, “Drop your wands or die!”

Meanwhile, Hermione sent her thoughts to all the House Elves she could reach. House Elves could communicate wordlessly with their own kind, which the Potters had learned from Winky and Dobby. House Elves were born to serve Wizards and loved children. Hundreds responded to her plea.

The guards focused on Harry, firing Killing Curses down at him. Harry, deep in the cold emptiness of the Machine, blocked them automatically, summoning every loose item in the room into the way.

Hermione waited a moment and then non-verbally opened the shackles. Fiendfyre sprang into existence all along the periphery of the room, blazing with images of dragons, snakes, and all manner of evil creatures. The magical fire appeared hungry. It consumed nothing immediately, though, all the orphans having been removed from the room by the horde of House Elves.

“That which you don’t respect,” Hermione yelled out, “you can’t prepare for.”

Harry seized control over the Fiendfyre. His control was absolute, developed over long practice. If he could have felt emotion in this state, he would have felt rage. Nobody kidnapped his wife. The Fiendfyre made a vortex, scouring everything from the room as Harry grabbed Hermione and flame traveled back to Diagon Alley.

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Everyone watched the confrontation between Neville and Voldemort, stunned that the boy long thought to be little more than a squib had driven the Sword of Gryffindor into the Dark Lord’s side. A few were even more shocked, knowing that after Harry’s slaying of the basilisk, the sword was imbued with the killing power of basilisk venom, the most poisonous substance in existence.

Into this tableau, Harry and Hermione appeared. They immediately saw an unbelievable scene of Voldemort with the Sword of Gryffindor protruding from his abdomen, Neville facing him from the ground. Voldemort saw them appear and surprisingly laughed.

“Harry Potter, you return!” Voldemort laughed, “You obviously think I should be dying, don’t you? I have overcome death in many ways! You have assumed the form of a symbol of the light. I, I have assumed the form of Slytherin’s creature, the guardian of the Chamber of Secrets. The one creature immune to basilisk venom…the basilisk itself!”

Voldemort stood and pulled the sword from his side, the wound immediately beginning to heal. He threw the sword far from him, clattering onto the slates atop the roof of one of the nearby shops.

“I could transform,” Voldemort smiled, “which might be amusing as my gaze would kill many, but I know the one creature immune is the Phoenix. It wouldn’t do to kill my own henchman while you survive, Harry Potter!”

Suddenly, the fight was back on, a chaotic swirl.

Harry launched a chain of SPEARs at Voldemort, overpowering them slightly to try to press the Dark Lord early. He was unsure what he would find in regards to Voldemort’s power after the recent rituals. Hermione launched a spread of tiny black holes at Lucius and Bellatrix, standing next to each other. Knowing what the spell did, Bellatrix dove sideways and Malfoy imitated her.

Voldemort shielded against the SPEARs and Harry watched as the shield shrugged off the powerful attacks without breaking. Voldemort laughed, watching as Harry realized how much more powerful he’d become. Then the Dark Lord lashed out with a string of dark spells, including bone breaking curses, entrail expelling curses, and a putrefaction curse that would have rotted Harry where he stood. Harry apparated out of the way, but watched in horror as innocent bystanders were hit with the spells, literally exploding with the power of Voldemort’s curses.

“A little different from the Ministry, isn’t it, Harry Potter?” Voldemort mocked.

“You’ll never rule when people have seen how truly evil you are, Tom Riddle.” Harry replied, quickly casting a chain of cutting curses laced with SPEARs, trying to penetrate Riddle’s shields.

Ron was launching reductor curses at Death Eaters, hitting with a fair percent. Blood splashed over the cobblestones as arms and torsos were blown apart. The youngest Weasley male glanced over at a snarl just in time to see a werewolf come charging in from his side. He was barely able to get his wand up in time, too late to get a spell off before Fenrir knocked it out of his hand. The dark werewolf seemed to smile as he snapped at Ron’s throat, ready to rip and tear. Even if he failed to kill him, he could turn him, which was his secret pleasure. Ron, without thinking, swung his left fist in a sweeping left hook, connecting with Fenrir’s jaw. The experienced lupine had taken many hits from victims, but he rarely even noticed, almost immune to physical damage. He certainly noticed Ron’s punch, as his jaw shattered and he was sent rolling to the side, whimpering. Ron flexed his silver fist, grinning. He summoned his wand back to his hand just in time to block a Killing Curse with summoned debris and he was separated from the werewolf amongst the chaos of the fight.

Luna fought beside Ron, but was too busy blocking Killing Curses with stray cobblestones to help him against Fenrir. She would occasionally retaliate with a well-placed piercing curse, dropping several Death Eaters with neat holes drilled through their foreheads. Another she cast a switching spell on, switching arms and legs. The Death Eater fell to the ground, wand snapping under his weight.

Sirius had looked for and found Peter Pettigrew. The rat-faced man looked terrified to see his old friend.

“Ah, Peter.” Sirius said as he stalked towards him.

“Sirius…how good to see you.” Peter squeaked, backing away from him.

“You don’t look like you’re happy to see me.” Sirius said, grinning at finally reaching the confrontation he’d longed for.

Peter thrust out his wand and cast a remarkably quick blasting charm. He didn’t have a large repertoire, but what he had, he could cast quickly, as he’d shown when he framed Sirius the first time.

Sirius, though, was an experienced duelist, growing up practicing with Bellatrix Black. He batted the curse away, sending it flying into the sky.

“You cost me a decade of my life, Peter.” Sirius said, his eyes flat.

“You would have killed me!” Peter whimpered.

“Of course, I would have!” Sirius thundered, “You betrayed James! You might as well have killed him yourself! He was like a brother to us.”

“I loved him!” Peter screamed back, “I loved him and he married that Mudblood. He never even looked at me!”

Sirius was now truly repulsed. The whole betrayal was due to a secret crush?

“That’s not love, Peter.” Sirius replied, “I loved him like a brother. Love doesn’t prompt you to kill the one you love.”

Peter had backed almost to an alley. He transformed into a rat, diving for a pile of refuse. Sirius leapt at him, transforming in mid-leap, catching the rat in the strong jaws of his Grim form. He felt him struggle for an instant before he bit down hard, snapping the rat’s back. He shook him for a moment and then released him, transforming back to human form and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robe. The rat, dying, transformed back as well, moaning as he thrashed, but his legs did not move.

“You are no brother of mine.” Sirius said, “That was for James who died a true Marauder.”

He hesitated watching him thrash and finally pointed his wand, giving his former brother his mercy. “Reducto.” Sirius walked back to the fight, his vengeance finally complete.

Fenrir had been healed by another Death Eater, since his innate werewolf healing wouldn’t heal the wound delivered by silver. He had then leapt back into the fight. He initially looked for the damn redhead that had delivered the blow, but not seeing him had gone after another obsession. He saw Remus Lupin, who he’d bitten as a boy. He was fighting beside a pink-haired auror, each covering the other’s flank. He’d learned from Voldemort that if you killed a man’s love, you could break his spirit. So he stalked quietly upon the couple from the side and lunged, grabbing Tonks by the throat, but not biting her…yet.

“I’ve got your bitch, Lupin!” Fenrir snarled, “Maybe I should tear her throat out…or would you prefer if I just changed her, like you?”

“No!” Remus said, taking a step forward. He pointed his wand, but Fenrir interposed Tonks between them.

“No, no, no.” Fenrir scolded, “Bad Lupin. One more move and she pays.”

Lupin was caught. He couldn’t cast a spell, because it would hit Tonks, too. He didn’t know how Death Eater werewolves triggered their change during non-full moon, but he couldn’t do that. There were rumors that if a werewolf ever gained complete control over their other form, they could transform at will and then would never lose control again, but that was just a myth or legend.

“Don’t do it.” Remus begged, “You want me, not her. You don’t even know her. Let her go and we’ll fight.”

“It’s too delicious to watch you squirm, Lupin.” Fenrir snarled.

Remus watched, knowing he would have to take a shot with a spell if Fenrir made any sudden movements. It was his only chance. He’d been working with Harry recently and they’d discussed Harry’s use of occlumency to improve his dueling. Remus had tried it and while he hadn’t developed it to the point Harry had with “the Machine”, he had seen some improvement. So he centered himself with occlumency, pushing himself deeper and deeper, ready to cast if he was forced.

With the motivation of seeing Tonks on the edge of being bitten, he found himself able to achieve a deeper level of occlumency than he ever had before. He felt cold, unemotional, in complete control of himself. Time seemed to slow and all his senses seemed sharper. He saw Fenrir start to lunge as if in slow motion. He realized a spell wouldn’t be his best counter and instantly changed his plan.

He leapt, catching Fenrir by the neck. Shockingly, he felt the transformation hit him like a freight train, all at once. Instead of the slow, painful process he usually underwent it was like a sudden agony and then he was transformed. With his sudden strength, he threw Fenrir a hundred feet down the Alley and loped after him, snarling.

Fenrir regained his feet, shaking his head for the second time that night. He hadn’t expected that! Where had Lupin learned to transform at will? He barely had time to refocus before the other werewolf was on him. They grappled, rolling over and over on the cobblestones, biting and scratching, struggling for purchase, for leverage to deliver the fatal bite.

“Remus?” Tonks said, creeping closer to the pair of snarling and biting werewolves, wand out, looking to help but now in the same position Remus had been in, unable to fire at Fenrir without hitting her loved one.

There was a sudden crunch and a shake. Lupin looked up, his eyes glowing yellow. He caught Tonks’ eyes and she raised her wand, thinking he was going to leap at her, but then the yellow faded and he transformed back. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds, but was able to sit up.

“Are you ok?” he managed to ask.

“I’m fine.” She said, “You?”

He nodded, but she could see he was far from alright. She used some of her auror first-aid skills to close the worst of his wounds.

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Hermione blocked, spun and blocked again. She was single-handedly fighting at least a handful of Death Eaters at all times, trying to keep them off Harry while he fought Voldemort. Lucius and Bellatrix had continued to concentrate on her, trying to land a blow to distract Harry. Other Death Eaters she didn’t know would launch spells at her before being swallowed back into the swirling chaos of the ongoing melee. She was submerged deeply, feeling nothing but the flow of the fight. Bellatrix was by far the better of the two duelists she faced, insanely aggressive, but not lacking in skill. Lucius was more tentative. He’d clearly been trained by masters, but he simply lacked the killer instinct to be a great duelist. Hermione flicked one of the elder’s Malfoy’s cutting curses at Bellatrix and apparated, staying mobile to keep from being pinned down. Bellatrix blocked the curse and snarled at Malfoy, before launching a string of reductors at Hermione. The bushy haired Potter would have laughed if she wasn’t so absorbed in the moment. She’d set Bellatrix up, apparating in front of a group of less experienced Death Eaters. She simply appparated out of the way, allowing Bellatrix’s reductors to turn the five black robed and masked Wizards into red mist.

“Oh, you think you can play, do you Mudblood?” Bellatrix cackled, not seemingly bothered in the least that she’d just killed a handful of her own allies, “Try this!”

Bellatrix cast a dark summoning spell and a horde of black and green wasps appeared, their stingers glowing with a frightening green fire. They flew at Hermione more quickly than any insect should have been able to move. Instead of buzzing, they made a sound like tortured screams as they flew. Hermione cast a quick spell and apparated away. A black maw formed, swallowed the summoned demon-wasps, and closed.

“You bitch!” Bellatrix said, now upset, “I can’t summon them again for a year! I’ve been saving them!”

Hermione remained silent, saving her breath. She was already growing tired, trying to face so many at once. She parried Lucius’ piercing curses directly back at him, before kicking another random Death Eater in the side of the knee, dropping him to the cobbles. She hoped reinforcements arrived soon or they might be overwhelmed simply by numbers. Where were the aurors?

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Master Auror Moody hadn’t been able to reach Dumbledore. He’d tried reaching him by Floo, but had received no response. He Floo’d the auror strike force he’d arranged with Scrimgeour. He didn’t especially like the current Chief Auror, the man was too much of a careerist and not focused enough on defeating Dark Wizards for Moody’s taste, but he was better than some.

“Scrimgeour!” Moody grunted, “Heard anything?”

“We received word there was an attack on Diagon Alley.” Scrimgeour reported, “Sent our strike team right away, but have not received word back.”

“Bloody hell, man!” Moody raved, “Did you send anyone to check?”

“No, the briefed plan was to wait for word prior to sending the second team.” Scrimgeour said, “Didn’t want to send them into a trap.”

“Well, get them there!” Moody commanded, not thinking twice about ordering his nominal superior, “I’m going to get some of our people and I’ll be there soon.”

Moody pulled his head out of the Floo, tossed in another handful of powder, and traveled to Hogwarts. He sent his Patronus for Snape while he stomped to McGonagall’s office. With his walking stick, he rapped on her heavy wooden door.

“Alastor.” Minerva said, answering the door, “Is it the Potters?”

“Yes, Scrimgeour reports an attack on Diagon Alley. I anticipate they’re in the middle of it.”

“Where’s Dumbledore?” McGonagall asked.

“I think he probably went directly there.” Moody grunted, “You know how he feels about that boy.”

“How we all feel about that boy.” McGonagall said as she swept out of her door, “You included.”

“Knows his defense, he does.” Moody said, while his voice spoke of a deeper attachment.

A doe Patronus appeared next to them, conveying a message from Severus.

“I will go ahead. It would not do to be seen with you. Do not be late.”

Flitwick walked up, having heard them talking.

“It’s time?” he asked in his squeaky voice.

Moody just nodded. They threw powder into McGonagall’s office Floo and stepped in.

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Harry was barely holding his own against Voldemort. He’d sacrificed his mobility in order to try to protect the scared spectators, using shields instead. Even dodging usually resulted in the deaths of whoever was behind him, as Voldemort tossed out more violent dark curses with each wave of his deathly white wand. Harry’s shields held, but only his own prodigious power channeled through the Elder Wand could manage it and even then it was a close thing.

“Not flying this time, Harry Potter?” Voldemort mocked.

Harry didn’t answer, firing a piercing curse, a cutting curse, a SPEAR, and a flame dart in rapid succession. He tried to cloak the wand movement for a black portal that appeared right underneath Voldemort, but the Dark Wizard saw it and had banished it before it fully opened.

“Oh, that is almost worthy of me.” Voldemort hissed, “Opens to the ninth level of Hell, doesn’t it? Don’t worry, I have friends there, already.”

Voldemort snapped out a liquefaction curse, which Harry parried, sending it skyward. The Dark Wizard used it to conceal a movement of his own and with a bare flick of his wand, Ron Weasley was wrapped in ropes.

“Be still, blood traitor.” Voldemort crooned.

Another gesture and Ron was mounted next to Dumbledore.

Harry pressed forward, chaining together SPEARs, one after another, hammering on Voldemort’s shield while he was distracted. Riddle deflected them all, laughing as Harry cringed at the innocents destroyed by the reflected spells.

Harry apparated to arms reach and kicked Voldemort in the abdomen, aiming for the damp spot on his robes over where the Sword of Gryffindor had pierced. Voldemort went to his knees, but retaliated with a blast of pure concussive energy, some sort of hybrid between a bludgeon, a reductor, and a blasting curse. Only his heavily enchanted dueling robes saved Harry, but he was thrown down the Alley, skidding across the cobblestones, momentarily disoriented.

Ginny, standing next to Neville, sprang up and launched a series of attacks against Voldemort. She chained reductor curses, cutting curses, piercing curses. Laughing, the Dark Wizard blocked them all.

“Ah, Ginny Weasley.” He smiled, “I remember you. Quite the little diarist, aren’t you?”

Horrified at the reminder, Ginny continued her attacks, finally landing with a spell Voldemort apparently didn’t expect. The Dark Lord looked surprised when the mucus within the narrow slits of his nose started taking form. He shook his head and with a gesture ended the Bat Bogey spell. Another gesture and both Ginny and Neville were bound similarly to Ron and stuck to a nearby wall.

Voldemort looked back at where Harry had been on the ground, just in time to catch the SPEAR spell in the chest. His own robes were apparently heavily enchanted, because the piercing charm was blocked and the explosive curse behind it detonated on his protective charms, blasting him down the street. He stood up and began to dust himself off, standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry stalked towards him, feeling broken ribs grating as he panted for breath.

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Bellatrix and Hermione battled back and forth. Both were incredibly fast. Bellatrix had the advantage of sheer viciousness, launching so many dark curses nobody who watched could even follow. Except Hermione, who knew more spells than anyone except probably Dumbledore or Tom Riddle himself. She cast the correct counter-curses to each, blocking them neatly. Lucius Malfoy tried to stand next to Bellatrix, contributing where he could, but he could tell he was outmatched. Still, the two of them were keeping the Mudblood busy and away from their master.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw reinforcements. More Death Eaters appeared, running to the main fight. One black robed Wizard, though, strolled towards them. His walk was so familiar, Lucius immediately knew him.

“Severus.” Malfoy drawled, “Welcome to the party.”

“Of course.” Severus said, “I was able to misdirect Dumbledore’s message to his followers. Now where are we?”

“We’re keeping the Mudblood busy while our Master takes care of Potter.” Lucius said, turning back to Hermione as Severus walked to his side.

“Very good.” Severus said, planting his potions dagger into Lucius’ left kidney, his motion cloaked by his own sweeping robes.

Lucius tried to look over his shoulder at Snape, tried to gasp out a warning to Bellatrix, but the pain was just too great. He managed to apparate away before he fell, ripping the knife from Severus’ grip. Snape exchanged a look with Hermione and she gestured for him to help Harry. The Potion master nodded, turning away and gliding towards the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione began a series of attacks, increasing her aggressiveness and driving Bellatrix back. The insane witch cackled, amused by the Muggleborn witch’s audacity, but knowing no Mudblood could ever challenge her. Bellatrix blocked and parried, slowly stepping back under the brown-eyed Potter’s relentless attacks.

“You know you’ll never penetrate my defense, don’t you, Mudblood?” Bellatrix asked at a brief pause in the attack.

Hermione cocked her head to the side and surprised Lestrange with an enigmatic smile.

“I don’t have to.” Hermione said.

A pair of muscular legs swung over Bellatrix’s shoulders.

“You were already spoken for.” Hermione said, turning away.

Neville locked his ankles, using his leverage from being stuck to the wall. With a quick jerk of his hips, he broke the Witch’s neck. The crack resounded the length of Diagon Alley.

“That was for my mum and dad, you bitch!”

The body fell at his feet as he heaved and tried to catch his breath despite the constriction of his bondage.

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Voldemort stood, brushing off his robes. He faced Harry, who was stalking towards him down the length of Diagon Alley.

Both were surprised when Mad-Eye Moody stepped from the door to the Leaky Cauldron, McGonagall and Flitwick behind him. The Master Auror tried to shield his two friends as he raised his own wand.

“Avada kedavra!” Voldemort snapped out, his signature spell lancing out faster than thought. The green beam struck Moody in the chest. The light in his good eye dimmed and he fell silently.

“You bastard!” Harry shouted, the feeling of loss after seeing one of his mentors killed penetrating even the depths of his occlumency. He launched a stream of powerful attacks. Voldemort laughed, blocking each one and sending them into the front of the Leaky Cauldron. Already insanely powerful, the augmentation from the dark ritual sacrifice of the professional duelists had left him unbeatable. Minerva and Filius took cover as the glass windows shattered and the doorframe exploded around them. Voldemort gestured with his wand and both were securely wrapped and quickly stuck to the wall.

“Harry Potter, you are quickly running out of defenders.” Voldemort said, “Perhaps you want to reconsider your decision to oppose me? The only outcome will be your death. Death is my servant, for I have defeated Death and am his master.”

Harry apparated away, putting himself right in the center of Diagon Alley, next to Hermione, who had walked back after being unable to free her friends.

Voldemort anticipated where he would arrive and sent attack after attack. Sometimes he hit his own servants, who couldn’t scurry out of the way quickly enough and were shredded by their Master’s curses. Harry dodged and blocked. Side-by-side with Hermione, he was brilliant, the two working together in perfect harmony to shield each other from Voldemort’s attacks.

The Dark Lord’s power was greater than it had ever been and his skills with a wand were honed by decades of experience and recent intense practice. The spectators were awed at the exchange between the Greatest Dark Wizard their world had ever known and the two teenagers. The two moved more like one being with four arms and two wands, casting shields, counter-curses, and dodging both physically and by apparating, always coordinated with each other so they never left the other unguarded. A solid five minute exchange chewed up the street around them, but left them untouched. Untouched until Voldemort managed to break through Harry’s shield with a succession of ten overpowered blasting curses, the last hitting Harry squarely in the chest. He was thrown into a wall, the Elder Wand flying from his hand.

Voldemort reached out his hand to summon it, still not knowing the wand’s significance, but wanting to deprive Harry of his weapon. The Elder Wand started to arc towards Riddle, but Hermione intercepted it with a diving leap. She landed in a shoulder roll and blasted a stream of black holes at Tom Riddle, more numerous and more powerful than she’d ever cast before now that she was armed with the Elder Wand.

Voldemort was barely able to apparate away from the intense pull before the building collapsed where he had been, the debris shrunk into a tight ball of stone and wood.

Hermione glanced over at Harry, seeing he was well enough to have stood and already had unsheathed his ebony wand. She tossed him the Elder Wand while moving her vinewood wand back to her right hand. During the switch, Voldemort struck from behind her, trussing her in tight loops of rope and binding her to the wall next to the others.

Harry cast dispelling charm after charm, ripping at the ropes with his bare hands until his fingers bled, but he discovered the same thing Hermione had earlier and was unable to touch Voldemort’s binding. He staggered as Riddle hit him in the back with a cutting curse, the powerful spell tearing through his dueling robes and causing blood to drip onto the ground.

Luna stepped away from where she’d been trying to free Ron and hit Voldemort with a series of spells. His robe became very tight and bound his arms to his body, flipping a fold over his face. He started to flip over, before he was able to dispel her attacks. With another gesture, Riddle had bound Harry’s Ravenclaw ally, sticking her next to Ron. He continued his wand movements, binding Sirius, Remus, and Tonks. His power was simply too great for any to resist.

Snape walked up, casually blending into the Death Eaters. Voldemort noticed him immediately.

“Ah, Severus, you have joined us.”

“Yes, Master.” Snape replied flatly, “I had to delay the Order of the Phoenix, but once that was done, I arrived as soon as I could.”

“Welcome.” Voldemort said, “Now we will break Harry Potter for good. I killed his parents when he was but a baby. My servant caused his Godfather to be locked in Azkaban. I killed Moody, his teacher and mentor. I have bound Dumbledore, his Master, and the Mudblood, his wife. His best friends are all at my mercy. I am sure you are attached to these people, are you not, Harry Potter?”

Harry gritted his teeth and rose, blood dripping down his back, but starting to slow as his body quickly healed. He faced Voldemort and dozens of Death Eaters.

“You will not touch my friends, Riddle!” Harry yelled, submerging himself even deeper into his occlumency. The fight was all but lost, but he refused to yield.

“Oh, I won’t touch them.” Voldemort said dismissively, “I will just end them.”

Gesturing to his Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort triggered his plan to break the spirit of Harry Potter. Each Death Eater pointed his wand at one of Harry’s friends and allies. Then, in unison, they all cast.

“Avada kedavra!”

A/N: I never planned to be one of those authors that beg for reviews, but I am a bit disappointed in the numbers of reviews lately. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review.

I am reaching a stopping point in this story and will likely wrap it up soon. I plan to continue to write in this world eventually if I get the sense people really want to read it. I like the characters I have developed. Writing takes a lot of time and effort, though, so if it’s not appreciated, I could fill my time with reading instead. So please let me know whether this is worth it or not.

The timing of my next chapter will depend on reviews. I left this at a cliffhanger for that reason. I’m hoping to get enough to put this story at a decent number of reviews total. So if you’re reading and wouldn’t mind saying so, I’d appreciate it!

37. The End

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter

Chapter 37: The End

August 30 – Diagon Alley

Harry stood alone, facing Lord Voldemort and close to two dozen of his Death Eaters. Blood still slowly trickled down his back, but the bleeding had slowed as his phoenix-nature healed his wounds. Everything was perfectly still as if the world itself paused from the magnitude of this confrontation. Everyone was focused on their duel. Voldemort had just signaled his minions to cast the Killing Curse at Harry’s bound friends, casting it himself at Hermione, all to break Harry’s spirit before finishing him.

“Avada Kedavra!” they all shouted in eerie unison.

The sickening green bolts of light that had haunted Harry’s dreams flashed out, the strongest coming from Voldemort’s wand and aimed directly at Hermione’s heart, where she was stuck to the wall, unable to resist, bound by Riddle’s evil magic.

Dumbledore, Ron, Luna, Ginny, Neville, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, McGonagall, Flitwick were all similarly bound. Fred and George had abandoned their shop and joined the fight, although Harry hadn’t noticed at the time. They, too, were captured and bound. There was at least one Killing Curse aimed at each of Harry’s allies. Hermione had two others besides Voldemort’s, several Death Eaters having decided either that her death would be most effective in breaking Harry or that as a Mudblood, she was most deserving. Dumbledore likewise was heavily targeted, as was Sirius. None of it mattered, though, as even one Killing Curse was a death sentence to the bound and helpless friends of Harry Potter.

Severus Snape had spent years as the secret agent within Voldemort’s ranks. He had dedicated his life to the defeat of the evil Wizard who had taken the life of Lily, his one true love. He had served Dumbledore and secretly defended Harry while pretending to despise him. He pretended very effectively. Hiding his true emotions and motivations was his greatest skill, greater even than his Potions Mastery.

He couldn’t do anything to save the lives of Harry’s allies, even though their deaths would cripple him. The Dark Lord had not shared this plan with Snape, whether from distrust or just because the Potions Master had not been present when it had been planned. Severus only hoped that the losses would drive Harry to end Voldemort before dying himself. That was the only outcome that could redeem this disaster in any way, despite what a pyrrhic victory it would be. Snape could only do his part to encourage that end.

With a tiny, almost unnoticeable movement of his wand, he cast one of his signature spells, a spell he had drilled and drilled until he’d perfected it. He didn’t use the incantation, knowing secrecy was his only remaining advantage.

The spell hit Voldemort in the back, causing great cuts to appear over his entire body, the strength of Snape’s spell penetrating the Dark Lord’s enchanted robes. Voldemort hissed, distracted by the injuries, but he couldn’t afford to turn to the new threat and leave Harry behind him.

Meanwhile, Harry gathered his strength for the greatest effort of his young life. Fear would have robbed him of his strength, but the Machine felt no fear. There was a single chance to survive and perhaps triumph. His eyes locked with Hermione’s. She offered him all her power through their bond and he drew on it.

The Elder Wand swung in his hand, now an extension of his own body, an extension of his own mind, and a tool of his iron will. The Death Stick seemed more eager than ever before, as if recognizing something had changed in Harry, as if he’d finally truly mastered it. Hermione had discovered the spell Harry was casting and they had used it sparingly, not wanting its existence to become well known. She had used it once in public, against Luna during the DA duels. They had saved it after realizing its potential uses, both drilling in it until it was second nature. Dumbledore and Flitwick had taught him the technique to multiply spells, while Alex had warned him that it was so draining that it could completely magically exhaust a duelist, but at the right time it could salvage victory from defeat.

Harry completed his wand movement and screamed out the incantation, putting his entire self into the spell, motivated beyond all reason.

“Foenestra!”

A wave of magic pulsed out of the Elder Wand, staggering in its magnitude. The surrounding witches and wizards, no matter how aligned, felt the passage as a physical force. Harry sagged to the ground, almost completely exhausted.

In front of each of his friends, small holes appeared between the Killing Curses and their bodies. Harry had managed to split the spell over twenty ways. Each green bolt was completely swallowed, disappearing.

Harry knew he couldn’t afford any counter-stroke from Voldemort, so he did what he could to add to the Dark Wizard’s distraction.

“They’re gone.” Harry said flatly, “I destroyed each of your Horcruxes. Nagini was the last.”

Voldemort was silent. Blood dripped from his body even as the cuts began to heal, closed by dark magic. He opened his mouth to respond, to deny Harry’s words, but no words emerged. Over twenty small holes appeared around Tom Riddle in a pattern like the intersections of a geodesic dome and more than twenty green bolts flew from them, including his own powerful curse, striking him dead center. For a moment he was limned in sickening green light which then faded.

As if a light switch had been flipped off, the red glow disappeared from Voldemort’s eyes and he fell to the cobblestones, bouncing slightly.

The Death Eaters stood, stunned by the unexpected turn of events. Snape was Harry’s only ally free and he held his wand ready to defend himself to the death, but no attacks came. If the Death Eaters attacked, they would overwhelm Severus and they could have killed Harry at that moment as he panted on the pavement, but none of them had expected Voldemort to be hit. Snape stood there, not moving, not wanting to upset the delicate equilibrium.

Hermione moved first. She quickly freed herself wandlessly from the swiftly weakening bonds, bouncing off the wall as if propelled from a cannon and running to Harry’s side like an avenging angel, ready to defend him from all enemies. Dumbledore quickly freed himself, Flitwick seconds after. The other Order members and the DA leaders quickly followed, running forward ready to attack the Death Eaters.

A group of ten aurors appeared, having finally portkeyed into Diagon Alley, wands drawn.

The Death Eaters, seeing the odds shifting against them and having just seen the death of one who had claimed he was undying, fled. The pops of multiple apparitions were heard before new anti-apparition wards could be raised.

“Who’s in charge here?” Scrimgeour asked, directing his aurors to fan out.

Harry had been sustaining himself through pure will power and with the disappearance of the Death Eaters and Hermione by his side, he collapsed. Hermione caught his unconscious body before he hit the cobblestones and cradled him on her lap.

“I am.” Dumbledore said, walking towards Harry, “However, discussion will have to wait. I must take Harry to get medical attention. I am sure you can learn what you need to from Auror Tonks and I will make myself available later for your questions.”

Dumbledore gathered Hermione to his side and grasped Fawkes’ tail. All three disappeared in a flash of red-gold fire.

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Harry stirred, opening his eyes. He felt less pain than he expected, his injuries seemingly healed. He looked around and groaned. Nothing looked quite like the infirmary and the smell was unmistakable. He had lost count of how many times he’d woken like this after various adventures. As his mind cleared, he immediately felt his wife’s presence and looked to the side of the bed, where she sat reading.

“How long?” he croaked, his throat dry.

“Not quite two days this time.” Hermione said, her tone dry and the emotional spillover so full of conflicting emotions of elation, worry, and relief that even Harry could barely make sense of it all, “I expected it to be worse.”

“Well, that’s good then.” Harry said, reaching out for a cup of water, which Hermione was already holding out to him, anticipating his need, “How is everyone else? Did everyone make it?”

“Everyone’s fine.” Hermione said, although there was a clear sense through the bond she wasn’t sharing everything she knew, “Foenestra worked perfectly, although I never anticipated you would need to split it that many times. I asked Alex and he didn’t think anyone had ever split anything other than a trivial spell that many times before.”

Harry relaxed, slightly, although he kept his eyes on his wife, waiting for the rest of the information. They had a brief and gentle battle of wills through the bond, but she eventually relented, believing more in honesty with her other-half than in trying to shield him.

“Scrimgeour has taken control of the Ministry.” Hermione sighed, “With Fudge gone, there is a power vacuum. Normally, the vacancy would prompt the Wizengamot to meet and elect a new Minister, but Scrimgeour apparently invoked an old power given to the Head of the Aurors to declare an emergency and suspend the Wizengamot for now, assuming emergency powers himself.”

“What about Madame Bones?” Harry asked, “Isn’t she over Scrimgeour?”

“Yes…” Hermione said, “but it’s more complicated than that. Apparently the Auror Division is much older than the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. More recently, the DMLE was created and the head placed over all elements of law enforcement, including the Aurors. However, since the Auror Office existed first, there are some powers unique to the Head and those have never been removed from the laws. Wizards are just lazy. With Voldemort’s appearance in Diagon Alley, the fight, buildings destroyed, Wizards killed…well, the environment was ripe for him to take control. Dumbledore might have prevented it, but he left immediately to bring us here and once he tried to step in, Scrimgeour had already consolidated enough power to block him.”

“Did they capture Voldemort’s Death Eaters?” Harry asked, hoping for some good news.

“No.” Hermione said, “Most apparated out right after you killed him. Many were killed in the fight, but they were mostly Voldemort’s cannon fodder. We got a few of the worst, including Bellatrix and Greyback. Snape stabbed Malfoy, but he escaped.”

“He’s really gone, isn’t he?” Harry asked, almost unbelievingly.

“He is.” Hermione said, finally letting a small smile creep across her face, “His body was taken to be displayed at the Ministry. The Department of Mysteries investigated extensively and there are no signs of any kind of half-life or spirit fragments surviving. It appears he really is gone.”

Harry lapsed into silence as he contemplated that piece of information. His mind was full, busy dealing with the end of his lifetime opposition to the Dark Wizard Voldemort. Reaching this long time goal so suddenly was immensely satisfying, but brought up complex emotional responses that he hadn’t yet learned to deal with. Underlying, he could barely recall some really vivid dreams he’d had while unconscious. They’d seemed to start either right before or during the final exchange with Voldemort. Harry couldn’t quite recall all of them, but he felt they were very significant. Something about the Hallows…

Hermione’s small hand grasped his and he allowed himself to be brought out of his reverie. They sat that way for a span of time, whether minutes or hours, Harry couldn’t tell. Her presence made everything right for him and he could tell she felt the same. Despite the fact he was physically healed, he felt his mental and spiritual healing began at that moment. Dim morning light shone in the windows and the infirmary was peaceful and quiet.

The moment was broken by Madame Pomfrey bustling in.

“You’re awake, Mr. Potter.” She said, setting out several flasks of potion, “Take these.”

“I don’t want to take those.” Harry resisted, “I’m healed already.”

“You may be healed, but you’re still suffering from magical exhaustion.” Pomfrey said authoritatively, “The Headmaster told me what you did and you’re lucky you survived. You could have emptied your core and been nothing more than a Squib, even if you survived. That you survived and still have your magic is a wonder. Now drink those. Unless you want to stay with me for longer?”

“If I drink those, I can go?” Harry asked, his tone changing.

Pomfrey nodded, looking down her nose at her most frequent patient. Harry looked back, but then took his gaze away and threw each potion back as fast as he could. As soon as he had emptied the last one, the healer stepped closer to him and did a quick exam with her wand and her finely developed magical senses.

“You heal even quicker now than you did before.” Pomfrey said, “The good Lord knew what he was doing when he gave the fastest recovery time to the one who would need it most. Get on with you, now.”

She bustled off and Harry dressed in the clean clothes folded by his bed, accepting some assistance from Hermione when he realized he was still a little weak. Hand in hand, they walked out of the infirmary and down to the Great Hall, hoping to catch breakfast.

“We missed the Express, didn’t we?” Harry asked.

“We did.” Hermione said, “Or soon will. It doesn’t necessarily make sense to floo or apparate to the station in order to ride the Express, although I think they would have made us if you weren’t in the infirmary. The rest are still going to arrive that way. Ron didn’t want to leave your side, but we convinced him to go home.”

“Good.” Harry said, “I wouldn’t want him to miss the last few days with his family, especially now that Riddle is done for. The Weasleys must be relieved.”

“They are.” Hermione said, “I think Molly’s greatest fear was losing her family to Death Eaters.”

They walked into the Great Hall, which looked strange as it was completely empty except for the Head Table. Dumbledore saw them walk in and gestured them to the front, where House Elves quickly set two more places. Harry looked around, recognizing everyone except for one heavy set man, who was looking eagerly at him. The Headmaster saw his glance and smiled slightly.

“Ah, Harry, I see you noticed our new professor.” Dumbledore said, sounding somehow amused, “New meaning returned in this case, because Professor Slughorn taught your parents. Professor Slughorn, Harry Potter.”

Harry reached out his hand.

“Pleased, sir.”

“No, my boy!” Slughorn said enthusiastically, “It is all my pleasure! Your mother was one of my favorite students and I’m sure you will be likewise. You are all over the news. One of my old students, Barnabas Cuffe, is the editor. He always make certain I’ll see stories that interest me.”

Harry nodded, a little put-off by the slimy seeming professor.

“So you’re teaching Defense, Professor?” Hermione asked to fill the silence.

“Oh, no, dear, not at all!” Slughorn replied, “Not my subject at all…I’m the new Potions Master.”

Harry and Hermione both turned to look at Professor Snape, who gave them a pleased, but sinister looking smile.

“I will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, Mr. and Mrs. Potter.” Snape said silkily, “I hope to improve upon the inconsistent education you have received thus far.”

He appeared quite amused at their stunned expressions.

Dobby popped in.

“Harry Potter!” Dobby gushed, “Dobby is so happy to see you are awake! What may I bring you for breakfast?”

The little House Elf soon disappeared, only to reappear almost instantly with a plate heaped with food for both Potters. Hermione leaned over and whispered to Harry.

“He was so worried about you, he alternated between the infirmary, moving your things into our rooms here, and making sure everything would be ready for you at home.”

They ate breakfast and then walked up to their room, because Harry was still recovering. He slept most of the day while Hermione read her textbooks, preparing for classes as she always did prior to start of term. When he wasn’t asleep, they talked. Hermione showed him the newspapers and told him the parts of the fight he hadn’t seen, some of which she’d learned from others since she hadn’t seen all of the battle, either. At noon, Dobby brought them lunch in their room and afterwards Harry decided he had something he must do. Hermione instantly recognized his need and silently prepared to go with him. Holding hands, they disappeared in a flash of fire.

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They reappeared in a small cemetery. Hedwig also appeared, gliding gracefully to her Wizard’s shoulder. She recognized his need and sang a quiet song of reassurance. Together, all three went towards a small grave site, a single headstone marked with two names and a quote. Harry knelt in front of the marker. Hermione laid her hand on the shoulder that Hedwig was not perched on and offered her support. He was silent for many minutes, collecting his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.

“Mum,” Harry started quietly, “Dad, I did it. I know you wouldn’t have wanted me to do it for revenge, but I think you’d be happy that I finished it. Riddle is gone. Nobody ever needs worry about that psychopath again. Sirius took care of Pettigrew. I think it will help him, that he finished him.”

Harry lapsed back into another extended silence.

“I don’t know what else to say. It’s time for Hermione and I to have our happy ever after. Maybe you’ll enjoy watching that part more, but I’ll keep trying to make you proud of me.”

Hermione watched and finally, sure Harry didn’t have any more to say, she squeezed his shoulder and helped him to his feet.

“They would be.” Hermione said, embracing her husband, “I’m sure they are very proud of the man you’ve become.”

Hermione produced a wreath of beautiful white flowers and placed it reverently on her in-law’s graves, sad for her husband and sad for herself she’d never met them. Together, they stood arm-in-arm in the late Summer evening. Finally, Harry stirred.

“We’d better go or we’re going to miss the Sorting.” He said, turning away from his parents’ graves. Perhaps it would seem a little thing to most people, but he’d only recently learned where their graves were and this was only his second visit. Being able to share his victory with them, the last victims of Voldemort’s last reign of terror, brought some measure of peace.

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They returned to their room and changed into their more formal robes. Harry fussed with his clothing so long Hermione eventually had to push him towards the door, recognizing her husband had never taken so much interest in his dress before. He was delaying, nervous and not wanting to see the others. Harry and Hermione walked downstairs slowly. She provided support for him as they went. He was physically almost completely well, but emotionally he was in turmoil. He had never been very fond of attention and although he had gotten better at taking a more obvious leadership role through his work in the DA, he had spent much of his waking time reading copies of the weekend’s newspapers. The special edition of The Daily Prophet had made it obvious he was going to be even more famous, the headline reading “The Chosen One defeats Voldemort!” Harry realized on reading that headline that Tom Riddle’s mystique had been destroyed by his death. Unfortunately, his own fame was only growing.

Together they paused in front of the massive doors into the Great Hall. Hermione looked sympathetically at Harry as he collected his courage to walk into the room. He could face Voldemort bravely, but the thought of being stared at by his peers was unsettling. Finally, he steeled himself, his face taking on a trace of his Machine persona. His spine straightened and his chin rose. Hermione stepped next to him, taking his arm, ready to act her part. Harry gestured and the doors swung open, interrupting the sorting, barely begun.

Harry and Hermione strode into the room, in step with one another, robes billowing around both as impressively as Snape had ever managed. Severus himself settled back in his chair, watching them walk down the aisle as if it were done for his own entertainment. McGonagall stopped mid-sentence as she prepared the first years for the sorting. There was initially total silence as the two walked towards the Gryffindor table. Before they were a quarter of the way there, clapping started. Neither noticed who started it, but Hermione suspected it was Neville. All of Gryffindor quickly joined, as did Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw was slower to start, packed with very independent minded students, but they soon joined as well. Soon, only Slytherin was not clapping and it appeared that some were even going to go against their House Mates and join. Most surprisingly was Draco Malfoy, who clapped for the Potters with a very amused look on his face, not unlike Professor Snape’s.

Eventually, someone in Ravenclaw stood, Hermione noticed it was Cho, respect evident in the look she was giving the Potters, and benches scraped against the flagstone floor as others quickly joined. Soon, almost every student was standing and clapping for them. The Professors stood to join the applause, even Snape. Finally Dumbledore gestured for silence.

“You have all heard of recent events.” The Headmaster began, “I cannot express how pleased I am that the Potters have upheld the reputation of Hogwarts in such a dramatic fashion. Lord Voldemort is indeed dead, I witnessed his end myself. Harry and Hermione Potter dueled him directly and once again Harry ended this threat to our world.”

Dumbledore again started applauding and Hogwarts joined in. Harry blushed, looking down at the flagstones, but eventually he raised his chin and looked at everyone. With his own gesture for silence, Harry evinced his innate talent for command when he was able to quiet the entire Great Hall with a single movement. Into the stillness, he spoke.

“Tom Riddle is gone.” Harry said, “I will not call him Lord Voldemort, for that was a false name he made for himself. I am pleased no one must fear so much that they call him something like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who. We should remember him as Tom Riddle, for that is who he was. As happy as we all are for the end of the killing and the destruction, I think we must also mourn, for Tom Riddle was one of ours, a Hogwarts graduate, Head Boy of his class. Let us not forget, because if we do, we forget that it can happen again. Given the right conditions, another Wizard can rise to assume the mantle of Dark Lord and all this start again. If it does, I will be there and I won’t be alone, just as I was not alone in this fight.”

“I was never alone. In Diagon Alley, friends fought beside me. Of course Hermione was there.” Harry bowed his head slightly to his wife and the applause swelled for a moment, before stopping again.

“Never far from my side, Ron Weasley.” Harry said, “Stand up, Ron!”

Ron stood, his ears turning bright red, but his face shining in pleasure.

“Beside him, Luna Lovegood fought like a banshee.” Harry continued, gesturing to Luna to stand. Her house looked at her with new respect.

“Another stout ally, Neville Longbottom even managed to stab Tom Riddle with the Sword of Gryffindor! Can you imagine?”

Neville stood shyly and there was an immense wave of applause as the students recognized what an amazing amount of courage that must have taken.

“Ginny Weasley never stopped fighting.” Harry continued, “Fred and George, too, although they’re not here, next time you see them in their shop, remember they’re heroes!”

“Our Professors were in the middle of it. Professor Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, and Professor McGonagall were all in the fight.”

Harry’s voice became rough.

“Most of you don’t actually know him, but an imposter using Master Auror Alastor Moody’s form taught us Defense year before last. He died facing Riddle. Remember him.

“Professor Snape cursed Riddle, despite it being a suicide move. He did it to distract him so I could hit him and it worked. He saved all of our lives.”

The Gryffindors looked at Snape in a new light, the sadistic Potions Master having been instrumental in Voldemort’s end would garner him endless respect from the Lions of Gryffindor.

“All of us worked together.” Harry said, “It was never just me. Remember that if it ever happens again. We win by standing together against evil. It’s not about Harry Potter, it’s about Hogwarts and all Wizards against the darkness.”

There was another wave of applause as Harry walked to his seat.

“Well said.” Hermione whispered in his ear, knowing how hard that speech must have been for her attention avoiding young man.

“Thanks.” Harry smiled back.

The sorting continued and led into the Welcome Feast. Another year started at Hogwarts and Harry continued smiling, hoping that this year would be the best so far.

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A/N: It took a long time to post this, because I wasn’t satisfied. I ended the last chapter on a cliffhanger, but that made this chapter awkward, because the fight was moving quickly to a close and I am still concerned it created a strong sense of anticlimax. I like the fight, I’m just not sure I like where I split it.

Foenestra was initially seen in Chapter 22: Duels with the DA, where Hermione used it non-verbally against Luna. Check it out if you’re interested. They learned the splitting technique in Chapter 33: OWLs.

I have left threads of the beginning of my next story. I haven’t decided yet whether I’ll continue it as chapters onto this one or more likely eventually mark this complete and start the sequel as a new story. Either way, I may take a while before doing it. I’d like to take the time to edit this story into better shape. I posted as quickly as I could, often sacrificing time I could have used to edit it to a higher standard.

Please keep letting me know what you think. At least let me know you read it!

Thanks for those who’ve read it so far and especially for those who’ve reviewed. I really appreciate all of you!