Albus Dumbledore frowned to himself, and then looked up at the man standing before him.
"I can see no alternative, Severus."
Severus Snape bristled indignantly. "Far be it for me to wish this task upon anyone, but wouldn't you surely be better suited to..."
"I have my reasons for not performing this necessity myself, Severus."
"Very well, Headmaster. I will do as you ask, regretfully, of course, but to the best of my abilities. But I warn you: I do not think much of the boy's ability to learn."
Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, Severus. Do your best."
Snape's black eyes glittered, and he swept from the Headmaster's office.
On Flaming Wings.
"Yes, I know Fawkes. I only wish Severus could see Harry as his own man; alas, perhaps that will never be."
Fawkes trilled in response.
"You think I should have taken on this task? I fear that may do more harm than good."
Fawkes burst into flames and vanished on the spot.
Dumbledore raised his bushy silvered eyebrows. "Well, I wonder if you can see better than I, my dear friend."
A few moments later, Snape burst back into the room. Albus Dumbledore stared serenely at the livid man who sent his door smashing back into its hinges.
"I apologise for this intrusion, Headmaster, but Potter has refused."
"Refused? You told him you were doing this on my instructions."
"Of course, but the Mongrel stepped in – I couldn't speak frankly with the Ginger Gang about; but the Mutt influenced Potter to refuse; even when I spoke your name, they did not budge."
Suddenly the air next to Snape into flames, and in a flash, Sirius Black and Harry Potter stood there. Sirius spoke up instantly.
"If you think I'm going to let this mad old bat poke around in my godson's mind you're loonier than the lies the Prophet spews." Sirius told Dumbledore frankly, pointing at Snape.
"Idiot Mutt!" Snape replied. "This is an extremely delicate situation and if Potter suffers some discomfort then so be it. We do not risk ourselves so the Gryffindor prince can continue to be pampered."
"PAMPERED?" Sirius roared. "He's been through worse than you have in your whole life and he's come up the better man!"
"Gentlemen, please. We are all on the same side here." Snape and Sirius shut up as Dumbledore spoke, but they continued to glare at each other maliciously. "Well Fawkes, did you have purpose to bring Harry and Sirius here."
Fawkes cooed and trilled. Through a mixture of soft sounds, music and even some mental telepathy, Fawkes communicated what he needed to communicate to Dumbledore.
"Fawkes." Dumbledore began, "Says there is another way."
"To teach me Occulmency, Sir?" Harry, who had been silent up to that point asked.
"Yes, Harry. Severus is the most skilled practitioner I know; and I include myself in that statement; though I come close. But now Fawkes has told me that there is a another who is willing and able to perform this service."
Everyone was intent on the Headmaster. "Who is this, sir?"
Dumbledore smiled serenely. "I have no idea."
Everyone stood, flabbergasted. "The choice is yours, Harry, go with Severus, or go with Fawkes, if you will, to this mysterious benefactor. Or go to neither, though, for what it's worth, I'd advise against that path."
"How do you know this…helper-to-be, is trustworthy, Albus?" Sirius asked.
"I trust Fawkes, and I trust Fawkes's judgement."
Sirius turned to Harry. "Well, I guess the choice is yours."
Harry paused for a moment, and sized the three men up.
"I'll go with Fawkes."
Without another word, Fawkes seized him firmly yet gently and they both vanished into painless flames.
They reappeared a moment later; this place was unfamiliar to Harry. It seemed to have some kind of magical air about it though; a warm feeling. Harry was reminded of the Burrow, and felt more at ease.
"Well met, visitor." A voice greeted him from above his head. "I was wondering when we might meet again."
Harry spun around, absolutely speechless. He hadn't heard that voice since 8:46 am, May 29, 1993.
He never forgot that day. Day stretched into night, as the reawakening of Hermione Granger, Colin Creevey, Justin-Finch Fletchley, Sir Nicolas de-Mimsy Porpington, Penelope Clearwater and even Mrs Norris spread joy and cheer through the school. But even the return of Albus Dumbledore could not raise the spirits of the Weasleys. Although the crowing of the Rooster slew the monster, there was found no trace of their lost sister. Not a day went by when he didn't see the haunted look in the eyes of Ron and George, or Percy, Molly, Arthur, Bill and Charlie on the occasions he saw them.
But there she was – she looked older, of course, unless there was some trickery going on.
"I am speechless." Harry managed to say at last. "Because I do not know whether I should burst out in joy or anger! Ginny Weasley you little devil! Years we continued to hope against it seemed all odds, and here I find you…floating and grinning. You rascal, get down here…is it really you?"
Ginny seemed unoffended by Harry's outburst. She floated down to the floor (Harry looked impressed, despite himself) and smiled in response to Harry's question.
Fawkes, who Harry hadn't see go, popped back into view and dropped a piece of parchment into Ginny's hand; which burnt up.
"Harry, I think it's time I go home."
Harry nodded, and Fawkes drew them both up into the roaring fires.
Fawkes took them to Grimmauld place; Sirius had returned, and it was he who noticed the arrivals first. "Bringing a girlfriend here, Harry? Are you sure she's trustworthy?" He did a double take when he saw the resemblance of the girl to the pictures of Ginny Weasley he'd seen, and called: "ARTHUR! MOLLY!"
Just as Harry called: "RON! FRED! GEORGE!"
"What is it, Sirius...?"
"Harry?" Ron and Hermione questioned, as Fred and George popped next to him; but for once Mrs Weasley didn't scold them. She just stood, open mouthed for a second, as did everyone else, before Ginny disappeared in a pile of bodies. Harry, managing to extricate himself, found himself next to Hermione and Sirius, who were understandably overwhelmed by this turn of events.
"You disappear with Sirius and Sirius returns without you and now you bring Ginny back with you. I am beginning to give up trying to understand you, Harry Potter." Hermione stated.
"Don't give up on me yet, Hermione."
Ron spoke up: "You say you are Ginny, Ginny who says she is Ginny, but are you really Ginny, Ginny? If you are Ginny, why've you not come before?"
Ginny stood, waiting for a while. Gradually space began to form around her. "I am Ginny Weasley; if I am still permitted to use that name. As for my reasons; I don't wish to speak of them here or now, not until Bill, Charlie and Percy are with us. As for this place – too dark for my liking, far too dark. Who knows what evil ears lurk listening in the shadows."
"That would be Kreacher." Sirius spoke up. "A wretched being; loyal to my Dark Arts worshipping family."
"There is a place that I'll tell you about what I've done; Fawkes will take you, if you are willing."
It was about an hour later, and Ginny and Fawkes popped back into the place where Harry had seen her for the first time in years. Dumbledore, Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Sirius were there, as was a House Elf, wretched and miserable looking; Harry recognised him as Dobby.
They were all in a small room, bathed in late afternoon sunlight, seated in a semi-circle. Ginny sat facing them.
"This tale does not start with me; rather I will hand you over to Dobby, who will describe the beginnings of the proceedings that continue to this day."
Dobby, wringing his hands, tottered up to face the group and Ginny stepped back.
"Dobby serves a master. A master proud and mighty, but a master slinky and wicked. Dobby's master spoke of Mr Arthur Weasley, but in ways Dobby does not care to repeat. Dobby wondered why master detested Arthur Weasley so, but it was not Dobby's place to think. No, Dobby is merely servant of Master…But Master disregards Dobby, and so Dobby learns of Master's thoughts and worries. Mr Arthur Weasley is a bad wizard, so says Dobby's master. But that is not true; Dobby's master is a bad wizard!" At this Dobby shuddered violently, as if some force was compelling him to punish himself. "Dobby heard more. Yes, Arthur Weasley would let all filth overcome us. Dobby begs Miss to forgive him." Dobby bowed low to Hermione. "Dobby does not share Master's thoughts, if a wretched House Elf's opinions can matter to one so wise."
Hermione looked as though she were on the verge of tears.
"Dobby is so, so sorry for distressing Miss. If Miss likes, Dobby will set his ears in the oven and turn it on."
At this, Hermione burst out wailing and seized the little Elf in a hug. Dobby was quite overwhelmed, and it was a little while before Hermione and Dobby could be calmed again. When they were lucid, Dobby sat atop Hermione's knee and continued his tale.
"Master is tricky, and thinks to himself, but also thinks aloud, when Dobby is about. Master doesn't care for Dobby, and doesn't notice Dobby. Master pretends he is good wizard, but he is bad wizard, many bad things Master keeps in secret. Master does not like Arthur Weasley's Muggle Protection Act, so Master asks himself how he can stop Arthur Weasley's act. And Master thinks…he can use object that Master's Master gave Master…Very dark object – Dobby knows not what it is; but Master says that it will open the Chamber of Secrets, clever object it is. But it needs someone to help, yes, someone…but who? Master cleverly comes up with a plan. He will be rid of an incriminating dark object and discredit Arthur Weasley in one fell swoop."
"And how can he achieve that? By having Arthur Weasley's daughter attack Muggleborns, of course." Ginny answered herself.
"Ginny!" Mrs Weasley spoke up. "You didn't!"
Hermione scooted forward in her seat.
"I was involved. I was, shall we say, the corporeal to the Heir's intangible."
"So you didn't mean to?" Percy leaned forward on his seat.
"No, I didn't 'mean' to do it; but I did it anyway. How did I get myself into such a situation – well, I ignored your warnings, Dad. 'Don't trust anything where you can't see where it keeps its brain.' But…why not…he was nice and understanding…Mum must've put it there…
So the object's power grew. On October the 31st, it was powerful enough to take over my body."
"The first attack." Hermione said, whilst Dumbledore looked grave.
"I suppose I should have known, waking up with my memory gone; but my friend assured me; after all, why would I want to harm a cat, even one as annoying as Mrs Norris? I love cats, I don't want to hurt them…Well has it been said that the kisses of an enemy are deceitful."
"What is this thing? A set of lips?" Ron asked, as everyone turned and blinked at him. "Otherwise how could it kiss her?"
Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose. "I was speaking metaphorically, Ron."
"Oh, right. Sorry. Do carry on."
"So the year waned. I became more and more suspicious of the object, and at last I thought I had disposed of it. Imagine my horror when it resurfaced again. I had to steal it back – it was far too dangerous to leave, and what if, even worse, it repeated what I had told it…or what I suspect I'd been doing? So for good or ill, I stole the object back. Alas, my folly was plain, for the object influenced itself upon me once again. Hermione and Penelope paid the price for my cowardice; I should've spoken up, but I didn't."
Ginny took a deep breath.
"But this object's main goal wasn't to open the Chamber of Secrets. Terrible as that is, it had a far more sinister purpose. The attempted slaughter of Muggleborns was a mere side-show attraction in the grand scheme.
With Hermione on the verge of awakening, I had to tell someone what I'd done and what I'd suspected I'd done. But the object's plans were also nearing fruition, and so I wrote my own farewell on the wall and went down to wait in the Chamber of Secrets.
And I waited, and waited. I was fading; but somehow, I managed to escape the Chamber, eventually coming out in the lake and beyond. Those weeks are still foggy to me; I do know that Fawkes saved my life, at the very least."
Dumbledore spoke up. "Yes, Fawkes was absent for abnormally long periods."
"Well, though this object remained hidden in the Chamber of Secrets, its influence was not dampened by distance. Fawkes helped me keep it somewhat at bay. When the school year ended, I resolved to re-enter the Chamber to destroy the object once and for all.
But though there was a residue of the object's influence on me, I could not speak Parseltongue and enter the chamber, now could I retrace my escape path. Fawkes took me back into the Chamber…The monster was dead. The diary must have sensed my presence, for it tried to take over again. Fawkes managed to help me subdue it enough to allow me to destroy it."
Bill sighed with relief.
"But the end of one problem brought about the beginning of another. I had just destroyed the only evidence that could possibly prove that I was not working completely under my own volition. Even now there is no complete evidence. If I confessed my crimes, what then? Surely it would be worse for Muggleborns, I reasoned – Dad would be sullied with what I'd done. So I went into hiding, travelling around the world, learning what I could."
"So you were free from this dark influence. What made you think about keeping Mr Weasley out of it?" Harry asked.
"I didn't think of it; Dobby told me. If I confessed, I'd be put on trial which I'd undoubtedly lose, and worse, Dad's act would be doomed, along with anyone who tried to defend me. If I just told my family and you believed me; and I was discovered, the same thing would happen."
"So why did you show yourself now?" Harry asked.
"I specialise in very specific branch of defensive magic. Protection from outside influences. From my own experiences I've tuned this art; it's still very raw. I suppose it's kind of like Occulmency, however, it has got a slight quirk. Occlumency is a branch of mind magic; it can be very effective and usually suffices against outside influences. But what happens when the outside is in? If we consider the four levels of magic. One, the physical - the spells we cast. Simple spells – Wingardium Leviosa, etc. Two, the Mind level. Most of the Dark Arts fall within this category – but what makes a spell Dark? Trying to set a strict criterion is extremely difficult; however intent now becomes a strong part of spellcasting at this level. Skilled witches and wizards with a high prowess in mental magic find it easier to cast non-verbal and wandless spells. The third level is Blood magic, little understood and rarely practiced. Finally, we come to Soul Magic. To understand the power of Soul Magic, there are two spells to consider. Whereas the other two Unforgivable curses are on the mental level, the Killing Curse is an example of Soul Magic. On the other hand, so is the Patronus Charm."
"But…we think of a happy memory when we cast the charm?" Harry spoke up.
"So logically it should mean that it's a mental spell." Hermione finished.
"Have you ever known a Dark Wizard to cast the spell?" Ginny asked. "That's because messing with the soul is to break possibly the most sacred taboo of all. The Dark Witch or Wizard surely has many happy memories; but the soul is not compatible with casting the charm. All of us fall into a grey area; no one is completely dark or light, although some stretch that definition. A magician with a Dark leaning soul with find it much easier to cast the Killing Curse with ease, yet will be unable to produce a wisp of a Patronus when a Light leaning Wizard of lesser magical knowledge could produce a corporeal Patronus and find trying to cast a killing curse highly difficult. But be warned, it is a steep slope from light to dark; it's easy to slip into darkness; not so easy to return. Of course, this is just my speculation. Headmaster, would you like to say anything on the matter?"
"Yes, thank you, Miss Weasley. The nature of magic still remains mysterious; and although my knowledge is immense, we surely have barely scratched the surface of understanding. For what it's worth, I would support your general consensus, Miss Weasley."
"Now that we've got that through with, let us cast our minds back to the matter of the master's master." Ginny dropped a small, black book with a hole in it to the ground. "Over 50 years ago, a brilliant young student turned a diary into an unspeakable abomination. His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, but today he goes by another name. Lord Voldemort."
Harry, Sirius and Dumbledore were the only people who didn't gasp or react. Dobby clamped his hands over his ears and wailed: "Speak not the name, Miss, speak not his name."
"And he gave that Diary to Lucius Malfoy, and on to you." Arthur said.
"I doubt that Lucius had any idea what he was really doing. Voldemort most likely told him it was merely a tool for opening the Chamber of Secrets."
"When He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named found out what Master had done with his diary; He was furious. Master was but a lowly House-Elf to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's fury. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named thinks it's somewhere in Hogwarts; if He find out Miss Wheezy is alive, He will come after her, for he knows, he knows, he knows…" Dobby trailed off, trembling, as Hermione tried her best to comfort him.
"Ah, poor Lucius." Dumbledore spoke up. "The ensnarer ensnared."
No one seemed to pity Lucius Malfoy in his predicament.
"Harry, can I help you?"
"Err…Maybe…You're welcome to try, if you like. Better you than Snape, that's for sure."
Sirius nodded resolutely. "Of course. Better She-Who-Kicks-The-Dark-Derriere than He-Who-Tattooes-The-Mark-Upon-His-Arm."
Ginny looked out at the sunset. "Darker skies ahead; we shall see if we can weather the storm."
"I'm sure if you've got a well-stocked pantry we'll be fine." Ron spoke up, ruining the reflective.
"Oh Ron." Ginny swept her brother into her arms. "You haven't changed a bit.