Deathly Hallows Petunia version

by Andrew Windsor

Appeared on the net in March 2007 pretending to be an early draft. It followed most of the clues left by JK ie. Harry dies in the end but with a twist : Voldemort was Harry's Horcruxe. Females carachters, like McGonnagall and Petunia, are pivotal.

Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows

Chapter 1

grasping the Internet

Summer heat was unbearable. Lying in his bed at the Dursleys, Harry prepared to suffocate for a tenth night in a row. The house was so quietHarry wondered if four Privet Drive was not under a spell; after all, falling asleep always proved difficult with Dudley shouting or uncle Vernon yelling.

This new tranquillity started the moment he returned from Hogwarts. Aunt Petunia barely looked at him when he came through the door; his previous arrivals had unavoidably been met with sighs of despair. He went up to his room and paused at the top of the stairs when hearing his aunt say; "You can come down and have dinner once you're settled down. Your uncle and Dudley are out this evening". Dinner lasted a half-hour; another first for Harry who usually had only five minutes of feeding before his presence would annoy his aunt. He felt he had to say something but Petunia spoke first.

"Dudley has been trying out for his high school football team. Hopefully, he'll be good at something!"

Harry tried to keep his eyes on his soup; he genuinely believinga Dementor was sitting in front of him; never in the past had he heard negative comments about infallible Dudley. The next ten minutes were excruciating. Harry could not find anything to add though his aunt waited for a comment from his part. Dessert took the form of an apple-pie. Just before Harry engulfed his last piece, his aunt got up, walked to the sink filled with dirty dishes and said; "If only he could pass maths."

"I thought Dudley was good at maths."

"I will not have you mock my son." The expected, yet sudden, acid tone surprised Harry. "After all we have done for you! How can you pretend not to know how bad Dudley is at school? Does Hogwarts give private lessons in cynicism nowadays?"

Nothing else happened after that. The weeks passed by uneventfully. Uncle Vernon and Dudley kept nagging him, but with a certain reserve since Harry inspired fear.

Harry finally closed his eyes, taking advantage of a small breeze. The normalcy of the first three weeks of his stay was about to get shattered by Dudley barging in.

"You have to help me!"

Harry remained in bed, fearingDudley might be planning some awful surprise. Harry was getting to be an excellent judge of character. Having lived with real monsters for nearly half his life, he knew what evil looked like in the eyes of someone else. Dudley was not kidding; he indisputably needed his assistance.

"Sure," replied Harry, putting on his glasses.

"Mom and dad are constantly on my back. I've got to graduate if I want to get out of here but I'm failing maths… again. Mom told meyou were good at maths!"

Indeed Harry was. Thanks to one more of Hogwarts' famous secret, every student was given an amazing gift upon entering the school. Basic Muggle curriculum was magically integrated in their brains to adjust to the level they were expected to be. In other words, at the completion of each school year, Harry was as knowledgeable in physic, chemistry and mathematics as any Muggle of his age. This was true of all students. This gift came about when teachers realizedmagic could not be taught alongside normal Muggle sciences. Yet, basic skills like mathematics needed to be mastered. The great wizard Forkeaysen created one of his most famous spells: genioautomato, automatic genius!

"I'm supposed to rewrite my exams at the end of August," Dudley said.

"How did you know I was good at maths?"

"My mom keeps reminding me of how good your grades are. She always checks your report card."

"My report card! Aunt Petunia looks at my report card?"

"All of them, the minute they come through the mail."

Hogwarts had a special policy for students living amongst Muggles: on top of getting their grades through owls, they also received a Muggle adapted academic report via regular postal services.

"She never told me..."

Dudley could not have cared less. He smirked and walked out. Though shocked at first to discover his aunt looked at his report cards, Harry did not feel the need to confront her straight away. A more urgent matter needed his attention: Dudley was not going to get his help for free.

Harry got out of his room and stopped his cousin halfway down the stairs.

"I'll help you at one condition," whispered Harry. "You let me use your computer and show me how to use the Internet."

"You've never used a computer!"

"No. So do we have a deal?"

Dudley uttered a "yes" and went to watch his three daily hours of television. Harry got back to his room quite happy with his cunning self. He strolled back and forth, trying to work out what he hoped to find on the Internet, but the image of his aunt rummaging through his things persistently interrupting is thoughts. He looked in his drawers and did not find any Hogwarts paper. He needed to clear this up.

Harry came down to the kitchen, passing by Dudley and uncle Vernon who were watching football, a sport he knew nothing of. Being a Quidditch fan, Muggle sports were just too plain for him. During these television evenings for boys only, Petunia would sit alone in the kitchen and played a solitaire version of Scrabble where she was her own opponent.

Harry fetched himself a glass of water while his aunt was actively not acknowledging his presence. It struck Harry how lonely this woman was, or at least seemed to be. With courage, he sat in front of her and put his glass on the table.

"How can you play both people at once?" Harry asked, trying to stop his feet from trembling. Almost seventeen years old and he was still afraid of this woman.

"I just do. Dudley and Vernon don't like Scrabble."

Harry kept peeking at his aunt who kept staring at the board. Cautiously placing her letters, she eventually asked Harry if he needed anything.

"How come I can't find any of my report cards? I was told by the school's secretary that all my report cards were sent directly here."

He could see the spine on the back of his aunt crunching each vertebra, fuelled by the anger his question created. To his amazement, his aunt did not burst into a mad fury. She kept playing, adding letters and keeping score. She finally decided to open her mouth but not before raising her head to look Harry right in the eyes.

"All your report cards are in the buffet in the living room."

That was all Harry was going to get out of her. He thought of asking if he could play a game of Scrabble with her but the slow gestures of her hands, her relentless efforts to avoid confrontation, told him it was better not to.

June moved along swiftly. Harry was getting more mail than usual; Hedwig came to his window twice a night on more than one occasion. Most of the letters were from Ron or Hermione. The Daily Prophet often required many trips since it was thick with all the news hitting the Wizarding community. It appearedHarry's hideaway was not secret anymore otherwise Hedwig would have stayed away.

On top of dealing with his correspondence, Harry's time was spent tutoring Dudley who, in turn, helped him with the Internet. Harry did not think much of the Web at first, a Muggle invention, but would soon be spellbound. Amazingly, Dudley was to blame for Harry's new fascination. Tough he could hardly spell Horcruxes, Dudley was finding websites talking about such things. His cousin often woke Harry at two in the morning to come and see his new cyber discovery.

"They have them in China!" Dudley would yell, to which Harry, half asleep, would reply "What?"

And like so many nights before, Harry would get up, follow his cousin, tiptoeing to prevent disturbing his aunt and uncle's sleep, pretendthe information displayed on the screen was of the outmost importance and go back to sleep. Dudley was so excited about his findingsHarry did not have the heart to tell himtheywere worthless. Nonetheless, Horcruxes were showing up all over the Internet, and this alone was worrisome.

On the night of July first, while Harry was reading a letter from Hermione reminding him of how fast his birthday was coming up, Dudley burst into his room nearly breaking down the door. Harry did not wait for his cousin to comment on what he had found; he read it on his face. He went right to the computer.

"Harry Potter! See, it's written. It's written Harry Potter and Horcruxes." Dudley was pointing the screen.

Harry read with his mouth open. Notthat the remainder of the text made any sense but the factthat somewhere on the Internet someone had printed Horcruxes and his name on the same page bewildered him.

"C'mon. What do you think? Isn'titamazing?" insisted Dudley who was getting nothing from Harry but protruding eyes and a watery mouth.

"I can't believe it. This makes no sense; the rest of the text was taken from "Alice in Wonderland".

"Yeah" Dudley sighed. "I knew you'd say that. You don't understand why?"

"I don't think there's any connection. It's some kind of message, someone wants to tell mehe knowsI'm looking for this."

"Okay. Move!" said Dudley, pushing Harry aside. "I'll try to find out more."

Not two days passed and Dudley barged in Harry's room again. This time, he did it quietly, knowinghis mother and father were wondering what he and Harry were up to. Putting his finger on his mouth, Dudley ordered Harry to follow him with an impetuous gesture. Harry needed Dudley too much to react and, with his rage contained, followed him like a good dog.

"Look!" said Dudley proudly, pointing at the screen on his desk.

"Yes," replied Harry irritated. "It's the same web page you've shown me two days ago."

"I know who created the page. I found a couple of links to this page from another website."

Dudley opened a new tab in his web browser; Harry had to sit down from the shock of seeing what was on the screen: a witchcraft shop! in London! A Muggle witchcraft shop, if there is such a thing. The Witch Brew was advertised potions, magical ingredients and offered lessons in spells and conjurations. The owner, a certain Ushia, was photographed behind the cash register, dressed in some awful clothes. White as a ghost, she wore black makeup on her lips and eyes. The website offered other pictures of Ushia, in somewhat different clothes, but with the same horrible unruly black hair and face.

Harry had never heard of such stores. His cousin seemed unaffected by the matter; it even made him laugh. Dudley pushed Harry off his chair and grabbed the mouse. Like other teenagers of his age, the well-trained web surfercould not bear to wait for Harry to discover all the links. Worse, Harry was actually reading the text instead of browsing. The more Harry discovered about the website, the more his stomach turned. Could Voldemort have invaded Muggle world?

Muggle witchcraft stores were all over London; Dudley was frantically opening websites after websites. More than ever before, Harry needed Hermione's expertise.

"Man! These witchcraft stores are popular. They are all over the world."

"But Muggles… I mean non magic people don't have the means to do magic," commented Harry.

"I don't know if they do real magic, like you say, but these shops are popular. Anything having to do with magic and science fiction is big here. You've never seen any TV shows or movies dealing with magic?"

"Yes, I mean no. I mean, yes," muttered Harry, trying to put some order to his thoughts. "I did see TV shows with witches and stuff, but it's never real."

"Well" shouted Dudley aggravated, "Looks like regular people can do magic."

"I'm sorry," mumbled Harry. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. You've done a terrific job. I never would have figured this out on my own. It's going to help me a lot. I'll double the time for your tutoring if you want?"

"Na, never mind. So, when are we going to that store?"

Harry did not anticipate finding himself in such a position. Not only was Dudley working for him, he wanted to be part of the process, something Harry would never allow. However, Dudley could not be brushed off by a mere handshake, Harry needed him.

"That's great," said Harry. "But I have to do this alone. I'm not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts and if anything happens to you, I will not be able to help you this time.

"For heaven's sake, it's only a store."

"There could be Dementors hiding in there."

Harry could not have been more pleased with the effect the word Dementor had; Dudley was livid. He quickly printed all the pages of the website and handed them to Harry. He then physically pushed Harry out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Alone, Harry contacted the real expert: Hermione. He looked at his owl and realisedHedwig was too exhausted to relay another letter. There was no way around it, he needed to talk to Hermione without delay.

In all the years he had lived at four Privet Drive, he never once made a phone call. Why would he? never having friends or relatives to call. Petunia and Vernon Dursley were in the living room, appalled by yet one more appearance of Harry.

The Dursleys did not know what to do with Harry any more. He was behaving so strangely, which for them meant demonstrating confidence instead of enslavement. Uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia kept their eyes fixed on the tele, pretending not to see him. If Petunia was utterly terrified of Harry, her husband was still the dominant obese force of the household.

It was only a secret to Petunia, Harry and Dudleythatthe lion towering over them was an enormous farce outside the house. At work, on the streets or at the store, Vernon Dursley was undeniably and thoroughly pathetic. He was not going to relinquish any power over his three hundred square foot kingdom: the living room.

"Can't you see you're bothering us?" blasted the undefined form occupying every inch of the sofa. "And what are you doing down here at this hour?"

"I need to make a telephone," said Harry.

Harry had hoped that once in his life, a request of his could be simply granted by a yes. Again, all he received from his aunt and uncle were faces filling up with red, eyes coming out of their sockets and mouths opened, gasping for air. He had seen this reaction so oftenhe was immune to it. His uncle's screams always made Harry run but not this time; he just stood there. Uncle Vernon did not want to answer, considering his facial expression was obvious enough.

"Can I use the telephone," repeated Harry slowly, separating each word as if he was talking to young children.

"Yes, yes," answered Petunia, swooping him away from the hand while looking sideways at her husband; she did not want this confrontation to last any longer.

Harry went to the kitchen and took the telephone. It was the first time he had a phone in his hand in this house. The moment needed to be savoured by complete stillness, notably because Harry had no idea what Hermione's phone number was. He was about to go back to his room when Dudley came into the kitchen looking for anything sweet hiding in the fridge.

"Who do you want to phone?" said Dudley.

"A friend from school."

"I thought you people never used telephones," articulated Dudley in a scarcely audible voice due to all the ice cream going into his mouth.

"No, she lives here in London."

"She! You mean it's a girl?"

"Yes," said Harry, hating what his cousin was implying.

"Well go ahead and. Call her."

"I don't have her phone number."

"Go get it off the computer."

Harry was not moving. Dudley expelled a long sigh, comprehending he was going to have to do it himself. Taking a lot of ice cream and a bit of cake, he gestured Harry to follow him. Harry tagged along, fearing the retribution his cousin was going to expect later on.

Half an hour passed and no luck. Dudley was getting irritated with Harry who knew nothing of this Hermione besides her family name: Granger. Hermione Granger left no trace anywhere, not in a discussion group or a blog dealing with witchcraft. Here, in this Muggle world, communicating was difficult to say the least. Dudley kept badgering Harry with questions he had no answer for.

"I can't believe you don't know where she lives. She could be in Scotland or even in Ireland for all we know," squealed Dudley, madly typing away at his keyboard.

"Oh, I know she lives in London," added Harry, although he was not absolutely sure of what he had just said. "At least she lives close to London, but I cannot tell you where exactly."

"How about a cell phone?"

"A cell phone?" repeated Harry.

"Are you stupid or what? Everyone knows what a cell phone is. You guys need to get out of magical world."

Dudley went back to the keyboard, leaving Harry to wonder at what a cell phone was. Dudley's fingers pressed harder and harder on the tiny letters, so frustrated he was of not finding what he was looking for. Harry, on the other hand, was amazed at all the websites opening up and closing down. He had no idea his cousin was that good with computers.

"There!" screamed Dudley. "I got at least twenty cell phones for Hermione Granger. Who knew so many girls were named Hermione?"

"There are a lot of Hermione registered?"

"Try this one. It's the only one within the greater London. All the other cell phones are American numbers."

"American? There are Hermiones in the United States?"

"Who cares, here try my phone."

Dudley gave Harry the receiver but kept his finger on the tonality pin: his cousin's sudden sprout of goodwill was not free. Dudley wanted something.

"I'll let you use my phone at one condition," threaten Dudley. "I want to meet her."

It took Harry's entire strength to control himself. This idea was preposterous. Hermione Granger could be with anyone she wanted; even a Quidditch superstar like Viktor Krum. How could his cousin, this mass of outmost incompetence, possibly thinkhe had the right to ask to meet a girl like Hermione?

Harry's expression changed since he had to give in; a "no" would result in absolute chaos in the house, not to mention the end of his free use of the Internet.

"All right, I'll ask her to come visit this summer."

Dudley could not tell if Harry's voice was trembling from hesitation or anger. Unlike Harry, he had no social skills nor was he expecting to develop any. Harry's answer pleased Dudley who released the tonality pin and dialled the number.

"Hello."

"Hermione!" said Harry with excitement. He was expecting Hermione to immediately answer back but the silence on the telephone was a sure signshe had no idea who was calling. Harry quickly continued "It's Harry, Harry Potter."

"Harry! How on earth did you get my number?" gasped Hermione. "It's so good to hear your voice. You realize it's the first time we talk on the phone."

"Yes, and it's all thanks to my cousin. You know Dudley, my cousin?" Harry could not escape the inquisitive eyes watching him from below. These few words satisfied Dudley who took his empty plate and went down to the kitchen to fetch more sugary items.

"Listen. There's no time to explain. I don't want my cousin to hear this. I need you to come with me to a store in London."

"A store! In London!"

"Yes. It's a witchcraft store. Dudley told methey are very popular here... I mean outside of Wizarding world. I mean... here in a Muggle world." Harry was stuttering for he did want to use the word Muggle in front of Hermione.

"They are called wiccan stores. Of course there are all over, it's the IN thing among teenagers. Why do you want to go visit one?"

"We've been searching the Internet, Dudley and I. Apparently this girl who owns the witchcraft store, I mean wiccan store, put up a website with my name and the word Horcruxes on it.

"What!"

"There is no time to explain. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. If you can come of course."

"What do you mean if I can come? Of course I can come. So where isthat place?"

"It's near Charring Cross. There's no address on the website. It saysthatas we come out of Charring Cross station, we should see the store. It's called The Witch Brew."

"What time do you want to meet at Charring Cross?"

"Eleven a.m.," answered Harry speedily, seeing Dudley come into the room.

"I'll see you tomorrow," concluded Harry as he literally hung up on Hermione.

Chapter 2

knowing Hermione

The next morning, Harry grabbed whatever he could find in the fridge and headed outside. There in front of the house, on all four, was his aunt Petunia, wearing a little hat and trimming her flowers. This was a familiar sight; flowers were the only things his aunt had passion for. Maybe gardening was a way for her to get out of the house, Harry thought.

"I'm going away for the day, I'll be back by supper," Harry said, standing next to his aunt, with some kind of authoritative voice.

His aunt grunted something, not even bothering to raise her head or look at him. In a way, Harry was happy: he would have hated explaining himself. His whereabouts were none of her business. Yet, Harry stood there for some moments, hoping for a better answer since he did tell her he would be back. The woman in front of him was not going to acknowledge his presence. Harry added a faint "goodbye" and walked away. He nearly stopped as he heard "goodbye" but decided to keep marching, blaming this auditory illusion on his imagination.

It took him a while before finding the bus stop. He, a great wizard who could travel miles in a second on his broom, would have to rely on something as primitive as public transport: a mean of travel he knew nothing about. He glanced over a schedule attached to a street lamp but could not read: a group of people were standing in front of it. Even though he had many questions to ask, he kept silent, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of all these strangers. He was ashamed of his blatant ignorance regarding day-to-day activities in the Muggle world. The bus showed up and the unruly group pushed and shoved to get inside all at once.

Harry put his hand in his pocket searching for some shillings. He uttered a sigh of relief upon finding some. Muggle money had been an issue for him before. Magic gold seemed to vanish once he entered Muggle world. This was a problem since he could not ask the Dursleys to lend him some though they knew how rich he was. Last winter, with the help Hermione, he came up with a spell to transform magic gold into shillings and pounds the minute he passed into Muggle world. The first time he tried it, he had to grab his pockets for the insane amount of money thatcame out of them. Gold, whether magic or Muggle, was still gold.

Twenty minutes later, Harry got out of the bus and stood in front of a subway station. He figured outthathis best strategy was to observe and copy what others were doing. He managed to give the right amount to the bus driver and get out when the majority of people exited. Trouble started in the subway station; he had no idea how to find his way. He stood in front of a map for ten minutes but all he could see were lines, lines crossing lines, yellow lines, red lines, blue lines, dotted and straight lines. This was all so confusing. He froze when he felt a hand grab his elbow.

"You're not from here, are you?"

Harry looked down at the old woman smiling at him with the best of intentions. He swallowed his pride and accepted the help.

"No, no," mumbled Harry. "I am from London. I've never taken the subway before."

"Oh, I see," said the woman adding a wink to her smile. "Do you know where you want to go?"

"Charring Cross Tube station. I can't find it on this map."

It took all but two minutes for the nice lady to put her finger on Charring Cross Tube station and give Harry precise details on what trains to take, where to transfer, but more importantly, where to get off. Harry blushed as she handed him some money, thinkingthe reasonhe had never taken the subway before was due to poverty. Harry showed her his pounds, gracefully thanked her and proceeded to the ticket counter.

Safely standing in a train, going on the right direction, Harry saw the women on the other side of the platform waving at him. He waved back and smiled, touched by this spontaneous act of kindness, something he had so little of at four Privet Drive.

The trip took longer than Harry expected, not because the directions were faulty or the trains were late but because he kept missing his transfers. He was too busy staring at the strange jungleunderground London offered. Some moments he truly thought some of the kids passing by were witches. They certainly dressed like them and painted their faces in white, grey and black makeup. His prying eyes almost got him in trouble as a trio of punks, hair streaked in the air and clothes covered with chains, walked towards him in a threatening way: staring at punks in London was a dangerous affair. Fortunately, Harry jumped into a train before they could do any harm. This episode signified the end of Harry's social studies; from then on, he kept his eyes glued on the names of Tube stations flying by.

Charring Cross was massive to say the least. Harry was immersed in a sea of people going in different directions. It took time before figuring out where the exit was. Harry escaped the Tube and, right in front of him across a busy street, was an orange insignia with the words The Witch Brew.

"Well, Harry Potter in the flesh and, may I add, you are late!"

Harry froze; the ghastly voice of Snape was impossible to miss. He gathered all the courage he had and swiftly turned around to face the monster. It was Hermione, standing mischievously with open arms.

"Hermione!" gasped Harry, still unsure who he was facing. Snape could have metamorphosed himself.

"Yes! It's me, Harry, me!"

They jumped into each other's arms. Hermione was ecstatic to see her friend on his feet and not in bed stricken with depression. Harry held on strong, realizing how much he needed affection. He restrained himself from sobbing even though Hermione would have been okay with it.

"How did you manage to speak like Snape?" immediately questioned Harry, still trembling from the parlour trick.

"They're just tricks I've been doing with my family. It's something we love to do my parents and I. We imitate whoever we see fit and make the others guess. To tell you the truth, Snape is the easiest person in the world to imitate," said Hermione cheerfully imitating Snape soHarry could seeit was she. Looking across the street at The Which Brew, Hermione quickly changed the topic.

"It looks like a pretty normal place if you want my opinion."

"Yes," said Harry. "Which is why I need you to tell me how natural this place is? I wouldn't be able to tell a magic wiccan store from a non-magic one."

"All right, I'll do my best, but why this one? I've seen much bigger and much scarier shops than this."

"Maybe, but the website was put up by the owner of this shop. I asked Dudley to see if he could find anything on Horcruxes. He nearly spent a whole week before finding this shop."

"You've been questioning the Internet for Horcruxes," said Hermione doubtfully.

"I didn't know what to do or where to start. Anyway, the strangest thing isthatbesides my name and Horcruxes, the rest of the text means nothing. It's an excerpt from Alice in Wonderland where she falls in the well."

"I wish you'd sent it to me. I could have looked at it," pointed Hermione, looking over the printouts of the website. She took out a piece of paper, wrote her email and handed it to Harry. "I didn't give it to you before because I didn't think you had access to computer. I didn't even think you knew what email was."

"Give me some credit," snapped hairy.

"I am sorry but all I've known from you had to do with magic. Muggles seemed to be the last thing on your mind. Anyway, why didn't you and your cousin send an email to the webmaster?"

"Well that's just it. The website has no contact email: just plain text. Dudley is really good at this, he managed to trace the website to this place and found your phone number. Don't ask me how he did it, I could barely keep up with what he was typing and what was happening on the screen," Harry said, hinting to Hermione howhonestly clueless he was about Muggle inventions.

"So basically there is a website with the title Harry Potter and Horcruxes, followed by some text taken from Alice in Wonderland, and the creator of this website is the owner ofthatshop," resumed Hermione. Her grasp for the obvious made Harry smiled. Taking control of the situation, Hermione took Harry's hand and dragged him across the street.

The surroundings of Charring Cross Station were full of people Harry could not take his eyes of. Hermione felt her duty to educate him so she slowed down. "They are Gothic!" Hermione explained as a pair of white face, black hair, dark clothed teenage girls passed by. "Punks! You want to keep an eye out for these; they're not really dangerous but they definitely don't like to be looked at."

Harry's head was spinning, had it not been for Hermione's vigilance, he would have tripped on a dog in front of him. Retros, Rappers, Barbies; it seemedeach person walking by could be classified in a subgroup. Even older people: big hair women were wasps and pressed for time well-dressed men were yuppies. The lessons stopped when they stepped into the store.

"Gothic," said Harry to Hermione while looking to the girl behind the counter. Hermione frowned, disagreeing with her head:the woman was not gothic. In fact, she did not know what she was. The store seemed rather inoffensive, mostly filled with books, crystals and small odd objects. It was nothing like Hogshead. Yet, every item had a magical connotation: Isis stone, mandragore fire or surian plum. Like two conniving thieves, Hermione and Harry stopped here and there to grab something and show it to the other giggling.

The owner approached and showed them around. Hermione was doing most of the talking at first but Harry quickly jumped in. The owner, a certain Ushia, was so impressed when Harry mentioned "Horcruxes"she ordered them to stand behind the counter and wait for her. She quickly came out of the back store with an assortment of silver dicesthat she arranged on the counter.

"These are all my Horcruxes. I've been collecting them for a long-time. I am the only one in England with so many. Not a lot of people know about Horcruxes. How'd you learn about them?"

"Well, that's just it. We know nothing about Horcruxes," said Hermione, wanting to take control of the investigation. "We did some web search on our names and we came up with your website Horcruxes and Harry Potter."

"I knewsomeone, somewhere, would show up in my store one day because of thatwebsite," said Ushia, eyes peeled on her dices until she found what she was looking for. "There," she yelled, handing Harry one of the dice. "See, it's written Harry Potter on all its sides."

Harry kept looking at the dice; Hermione was at a loss for words. Harry looked at his friend and deducedshe was performing some nonverbal spell. He quickly turned to Ushia to try to distract her.

"Yes, it is my name, although it could be any Harry Potter."

"Oh no," shouted Ushia. "You look exactly like the man who gave me these said you would."

"What man?" replied Harry.

"A true wiccan. I've never seen him in our groups before but he knew a lot about spells and rituals. He was tall, dark hair, dark features and he had at strange way of speaking: he dragged his s and z, almost like a snake."

"Snape!" said Hermione and Harry at the same time.

"So you know this guy?" said Ushia, wanting to know more. "He's a fascinating wiccan. I've only seen him once, about two months ago, and not a day goes bythatI don't think about him. Is he a friend of yours?"

"More like a teacher," said Harry. His answer produced the most wonderful effect on Ushia whose eyes beamed with amazement.

"I knew this guy had his own covenant. If you tell me where you people meet, I'll give you one of my Horcruxes," whispered Ushia, not wanting the other customers to hear.

"We'll have to talk to him first. I think he would be impressed if we were to come back to scho… I mean the covenant, and tell himwe have learned what Horcruxes are."

"I see," said Ushia. "This is some kind of quest for you guys? Your professor is right, knowledge has to be earned, not handed over on a silver plate. Follow me."

Hermione and Harry were taken to the back room where strange objects covered the floors and walls. Ushia gave them a tiny book titled Horcruxes. Harry offered her twenty pounds that she kept without thanking them. She escorted them out of the store, insisting she be part of their covenant.

"Promise me you will be back."

"I promise," Harry replied. "We will definitely be back."

Outside, the heat was unbearable; England and most of Northern Europe was going through one of their worst heat wave on record. Hermione didn't seem to mind but Harry was sweating profusely. He was about to comment on what had just happened when Hermione dragged him into an air-conditioned café nearby. Harry sat down while Hermione got some juices and pastries. She pushed a black chocolate cake in front of Harry and said; "Just in case I don't see you for your birthday."

Harry smiled timidly; he was so afraid of Hermione's absence on the thirty-first of July he did not dare eat the cake. The pass few weeks at the Dursley, all alone, had put a damper on his need to save his friends from his predicaments.

"I didn't know you were susceptible to heat," Hermione said.

"It started about a month ago. I don't know why but I am always hot, even when it is cool outside."

"Do you think it has something to do with..."

"Voldemort!" said Harry. "I thought we were over this fear of using his real name."

"You're right. It's time I get over this. So... you are hot all the time because of Voldemort?"

Harry touched his scar realizing it had not hurt since Dumbledore's death. His body had been fighting the heat wave for so longhe forgot everything else regarding his physical being.

"You're right! My scar doesn't hurt. In fact, I haven't received any of Voldemort's thoughts or felt any of his emotions."

"Maybe that's a good thing," proposed Hermione.

"Come on Hermione," snapped Harry who hated being patronized. "You know this means nothing good. He probably found a way to shut me out."

"Well then, maybe you are feeling hot like Voldemort is feeling hot."

Hermione gathered, from Harry's gazing eyes, that he was not seeing the big picture so she tried to brush one for him.

"Maybe you are physically experiencing what Voldemort's body is sensing. Maybe he's been hiding in an extremely hot place like fire or something."

"YES," shouted Harry. "I bet he's somewhere so remoteI cannot sense his thoughts."

"Or maybe he is deliberately putting himself through some pain, like extreme heat, soall he can think of is how hot he is."

Hermione got up, allowing Harry to simmer in his ideas. She came back from the bathroom some minutes later, pleased to seeher friend was still trying to figure out how to use what they had just talked about. Hermione took a sip of juice and decided it was time to bring Harry back to earth and focus on the Witch Brew.

"So, what did you think about the shop?"

"Well, it is all connected somehow."

"I don't thinkthat girl knew what Horcruxes really were. I did a couple of jinxes in the store and nothing came up enchanted."

"You did magic?"

"No," laughed Hermione. "They were spellsthatdid not involve physical magic. It's quite complicated. Professor McGonagall gave me private lessons last year. You just focus and you can figure out whether your in front of a magical object on not. The ministry will never detect this type of magic since nothing happens in the physical world."

"You never told me you were tutored privately by McGonagall," said Harry upset.

"With everythinggoing on with you at school last year, I didn't want to bother you. Don't go flying on one of your paranoia again."

Hermione tone was harsh. Both Harry and she were no children anymore; they could deal with more blunt emotions. Hermione had grown tired of wrapping words thatmay upset Harry in sugary foils.

"And before you ask, yes, my tutoring had to do with you. McGonagall knew how close we were and she proposed to help me with some spells."

"What spells?" repeated Harry. "Why didn't you simply come to me?"

"Like I said, there was too much going on with you and Dumbledore. Frankly, I thought McGonagall's idea was great. I can do things without you knowing about it Harry. I wanted a way to be prepared for the worst."

"Right, good for you," snapped Harry.

Hermione was disappointed inHarry who was still easily upset when people close to him kept stuff from him. She continued, adding kindness to her voice. "I guess what I really wanted was a warning, some kind of magical alarm, a bit like you with your scar."

"I didn't knowMcGonagall was an occlument!" Harry said, trying to change his attitude, realizing how inconsiderate he was.

"I don't know. I guess. McGonagall told me the best thing is to teach me how to recognize magical objects from non-magical ones."

Harry was unsure how to deal with this information. It seemedeveryone, his friends, Dumbledore, Sirius, even his aunt were lying to him. If there were not lying, like Hermione, they were doing thingswithout telling him. Hermione put her hand on Harry's, smiled tenderly and said; "Oh Harry. I didn't go behind your back like everyone else. You know Ron and I would never do that but your fight with Voldemort is not only yours Harry! It involves everyone: Dumbledore, McGonagall, the Order of the Phoenix… You are not alone, whether you like it or not. You have to accept the factthat the rest of us are involved."

Hermione knew how to lighten Harry's heart so he could let go off his anger, allow his hunger to take over and dig into the chocolate cake. With a full mouth and a happy tongue, he gestured Hermione to continue.

"So, like I said, while you were talking tothatUshia girl, I looked at all the objects around, especially the little Horcruxes, and I found nothing magical whatsoever inthatstore. I'll give you thatmost of the objects had names of things we've seen in potions; even famous magicians were quoted on the covers of some books. But a magical store likes those in Diagon Alley, No way."

"We're gonna have to go back," said Harry, trying to keep his mouth closed as much as possible to hide all the chocolate squishingin there. "I don't thinkthe girl was aware of what's going on either."

Hermione took a big bite of Harry's cake and savoured it as if it was Felix Filicies. When the dessert had vanished, Harry caressed his stomach with sheer satisfaction, shouted a big "thank you," and got back on the topic at hand.

"Do you think she knows about Hogwarts? That she is some kind of wannabe magician?"

"Of course she is. Like all wiccans, they want to do real magic but they don't know they can't."

The conversation lasted for an hour but nothing good came out of it. They decided to head back home. Harry was about to get in the Tube when he was pulled by Hermione. She winked and forced him to follow in silence. About half a mile west of where they were, they ended up in a parking lot. Hermione led Harry to a hot little sports car: she was going to drive him back to the Dursleys. Harry was so shocked he did not know what to say.

"I finally got my driver's license. My parents lent me one of their cars and since you cannot handle heat waves," she said, turning on the air conditioning for Harry's immense pleasure. He was like a child, touching and feeling everything, which prompted Hermione to say; "you know nothing about cars, do you?"

Harry said no from the head and enjoyed the ride. Hermione proved to be an excellent driver, which Harry never doubted. As they moved out of downtown London and into the suburbs, Harry stared at young students in uniforms heading back home. It dawned on himthat he was not a child anymore, not even a teenager. He had faint memories of what it was like to be a twelve-year-old entering Hogwarts. So much had happenedthat adulthood was now wearing heavily on his shoulders.

Harry turned his attention on Hermione who was talking about everything and nothing. Hermione too had metamorphosed into a young woman. Though innocence was a featureno one would associate with her, Harry sensedthatif she ever had any, it was gone. Tragedy, especially the loss of a loved one like Dumbledore, has a way to make adults out of children.

Harry knew so little about Hermione. Seven years they had been friends and if she knew everything about him, his life, his misfortunes, and his perpetual fights with Voldemort, he could not even tell where she lived. He felt as if he was sitting next to a stranger.

"How did you find out about Hogwarts?"

"What?" Hermione said, surprised by this "out-of-the-blue" question.

"I have no idea how humans actually get to go to Hogwarts. You saidthese wiccans know nothing about real magic and yet they are trying to be aware of it. Were your parents wiccans? How did they find out about Hogwarts?"

"Well," stuttered Hermione, not used to being grilled about her own life. "My great-aunt was a witch. She always said thatone day I would enter a magic school named Hogwarts. Magic, real magic, became natural for me since my parents encouraged my great-aunt to do tricks in front of me. The real problem wasthat I was sworn to secrecy. Primary school was especially difficult since I could not tell a soul. It's like knowingSanta Claus is real while everyone around you is finding outhe's not. My parents were okay with this from the start. I have the greatest mom and dad, you have no idea"

"What are their names, what do they do, how old are day?" said Harry hastily. "Weren't your parents dentists?"

"Sorry, I lied," replied Hermione, caught as a rat in a cage.

"Why?"

"Because… It's complicated... I didn't want to be more ostracised then I already was, me, a mudblood."

"I never called you…."

"I know Harry," Hermione cut in. "I don't mean you, I mean the others. My parents are kind of rich and they have titles."

"Titles? What titles?"

"You are truly clueless Harry Potter."

"Yes I am. Enlighten me!"

"My parents are duke and duchess. It's some type of aristocratic title. It is a very big thing, especially here in England."

"Does this mean you are…"

"Please don't say it Harry," Hermione cut in, again obviously embarrassed.

Harry did not intend to drop the ball: it was first class gossip, as his aunt would say. For oncethatHermione was demonstrating shyness, he was not going to change topic.

"So again," continued Harry with a mischievous smile, "what are their names, what do they do, how old are day?"

"Slow down," ordered Hermione, finding this recent interest of Harry enchanting. "My parents may be aristocrats they still did something with their lives then to simply be a duke and a duchess."

"Ok, good for them! So what do they do?"

"My mother is a physicist and my father is a doctor. Science and knowledge have always been part of dinner conversations at my house. On Saturday nights, the living room is filled with fascinating people, all talking about their discoveries, their research, what they were trying to create. Not only scientists but artists as well; my mother is very good piano player. Just imagine how great I felt when I found outthaton top of that, I would be doing real magic one day."

Harry's enquiries multiplied and Hermione was too please to give an answer for each of them. The mystery thathad been Hermione for Harry could finally be explained: her childhood was simply extraordinary. For the first time, he did not revert to his own miserable upbringing; he genuinely basked in his friend's fortune.

"We're here," said Hermione, parking the car one block away from four Privet drive. Harry was amazed since he never gave her directions.

"How did you know how to get here?"

"I told you, I've been heads up on things as you're concerned. I memorized the itinerary to your house, in case of an emergency." Harry was about to reply but Hermione quickly cut him off. "Who'd have thoughtthis emergency would be getting Dudley a girlfriend…"

"NO!" screamed Harry with sheer disgust. She was mocking him for all his money. "We can't barge in there," he ended up saying, not before giving stingy looks to Hermione

"All right then, let's phone Dudley up."

Hermione pulled a fancy cell phone from the car compartment next to Harry. He was not amused anymore and thought Hermione reckless. He scowled his eyebrows and, eventually, she handed him the phone. Of course, his aunt answered.

"Is Dudley there?" said Harry quickly.

"Who is this?" shouted Petunia Dursleys. The response was so quickHarry remained silent. Hermione, seeingHarry was at a loss for words, stole the cell phone from his hand and started to speak.

"Is Dudley there?"

"How dare you call here again! I thoughtyou were all in prison?" bellowed Petunia, so loudlyHarry could hear. "Either you give me your name straight away or I'll have the police trace this call."

It was now Hermione's turn to be mute and Harry to pick up the phone. "It's me, Harry. The girl you just heard was Hermione. She's a friend of mineDudley wanted to meet."

"Dudley? Wanting to meet your friends? I don't think so," whispered his aunt. She surprised them both by not hanging up, making roaring sounds from the throat.

"Who is this Hermione? Is she in witch?"

"Well, both her parents are humans. She studies with me at Hogwarts. She's a maths and physics genius and I thought, well…"

"Her parents are humans! What do they do?" cut Petunia briskly.

"Well, her mother is a physicist and her father is a doctor."

Harry's eyes opened wide as he heard a soft velvety voice coming from the phone: the special voice, strictly reserved for Dudley. He hung up and gestured Hermione to move forward: they had been the invited to come in.

Hermione parked the car right in front of the Dursleys who, to Harry's horror, were standing outside the door. "At least uncle Vernon seems to be out," whispered Harry, unable to take his eyes off his aunt and Dudley's white smile. It was quite shocking for him but Hermione offered a quick explanation.

"It's the car, it does thatto people."

Harry turned to her, having no idea what she meant, until he saw his cousin ran towards the car, hands up in the air, screaming.

"Wow, a two-seater Mercedes-Benz!"

"That's what I meant by you being clueless about cars," whispered Hermione. "Any normal seventeen year old boy will automatically fall in love with a two-seater Mercedes-Benz."

Hermione used all her charms when introduced to Petunia Dursleys and her infamous son. Stepping into the house, she was treated like royalty. Aunt Petunia was hanging on every wordcoming from her mouth. Harry was not so angry as much as baffled by the creepiness of the situation. He would have liked nothing better to confront his aunt on her sudden change of heart but decided to leave it.

Hermione was given a tour of the house by aunt Petunia who had a boring story for every object. Harry noticed how she carefully avoided mentioning anything about his parents though some items belonged to his mother. Next, Hermione spent a half-hour with Dudley on the computer. After all, itwas the reason why she came: making sure Dudley would keep helping Harry with the cyber world. Hermione used the pretext of having a long way to go before getting home and bid everyone goodbye. Aunt Petunia made absolutely sureshe would visit again, very soon.

"This was a complete hoax," said Harry, escorting his friend back to her car.

"I know how awful these people are but I don't think they were putting on a show and I believe I know why they like me so much," Hermione said, stepping into her car.

"Humour me."

"You know how I love to read newspapers... you should do the same sometime."

"I read the Daily Prophet all the time," said Harry impatiently.

"No, I mean local newspapers. English newspapers, London newspapers…"

"So," continued Harry.

"There was something about your cousin in the papers last May. Apparently he and his friends were arrested for vandalism."

"What! And Petunia never said a thing!"

"Like she would! Anyway, I think you're aunt has stopped considering her son as an adorable child and more like the troubled crap he really is. So bringing someone into her house whose mother is a physicist and father a doctor must be considered a good thing by her." Hermione did not want to add and simply drove off.

Harry stood in the street, eyes fixed on his aunt's house, or "his" house as Dumbledore would have liked him to believe. In the window, his aunt was waving goodbye to Hermione with Dudley at her side. Harry had to convince himselfhe was not dreaming when he saw his aunt elbow Dudley in the abdomen sothathe too waved goodbye. Somehow, Hermione's comments started to make sense.

Chapter 3

ranting witch

The lethargic state Harry had been under since Dumbledore's death, coupled with Sirius, was not as overwhelming this morning. Hermione's helped him figure out what had to be done. There was the matter of the missing Horcruxes, the doomsdayof his birthday only weeks away and the search for Snape. Also, he had to connect the dots between him and the wiccan store, find new allies and contact members of the Order to Phoenix.

Right now, one issue needed to be dealt with: his aunt. He had no time last year to confront her about Voldemort. Her "rebirth" was the perfect opportunity to sit and have a discussion. He may even find out what really happened to Dudley and how his aunt came to tolerate him, the infamous Harry Potter.

By midday, Harry was more confused about Petunia Dursleythanever. The monster was back, with her evil looks and discussed comments regarding him. Breakfast was awful and totally centred on Dudley; Dudley with the possible new girlfriend. His aunt, who wanted to keep all the credit of Hermione's visit for herself, sadistically cut off any word Harry tried to push into the conversation.

Yet, Harry could not shake the feelingshe was acting more than reacting; after all, uncle Vernon was present and his attitude surely did not show signs of evolution. Dudley, on the other hand, was not the traditional arrogant bully: face down on his sausages, shoulders forward, he expulsed sounds when his mother forced him to agree with her but not much else.

Around three o'clock, Dudley disappeared for football practice accompanied by his father. Harry was up in his room, trying to write some letters for Hedwig when he heard his aunt talking on the phone. He was amazed at how sensitive his hearing had grown over the years; some hidden talent taken from the same mystery bagParseltongue came from.

"A very nice girl," his aunt said, trying to convince the person at the other end. "She's a friend of Harry. Her father is a doctor and her mother a physicist."

Harry closed his eyes and focused,he heard the other person on the phone. Harry deduced it was Dudley's social worker. The woman evoked Dudley's infamous actions over the last two years much to his aunt's misery; Petunia almost choked when hearing about the awful tree days Dudley spent in juvenile detention where he met a bunch of kids who beat him to a pulp.

Dudley was on probation and the seriousness of his previous charges could send him to adult prison if he went down the same road. Harry heard fear in his aunt's voice; she kept insisting how wonderful Hermione was. Petunia even mentioned the good grades Harry was getting at school.

Had it taken place last year, Harry would have felt so angry he would have been unable to continue listening. At least now, he controlled his bursts more adequately. Realizing how lonely his aunt and uncle Vernon were, no friends, their house always empty of visitors if not for uncle Vernon's sister, Harry recognized the energy of despairpushing Petunia to act against her hatred of him. As the social worker forced her to talk about Harry, Petunia Dursley managed to create the fiction of a perfect house. Hermione was her bargaining chip.

July moved on at a much slower paste. Harry tutored Dudley and Dudley helped him connect with Hermione. Dudley even managed to send personal emails to Hermione. Harry did not mind since he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and did not need his assistance, as Dudley was concern. Still, he watched closely.

The search for Horcruxes was spewing in all directions. Harry knewDumbledore's previous quests produced good result,that he should start applying the same methods. Therefore, after Dudley ran out of ideas, Harry oriented his cousin searched towards Tom Riddle's family and Hogwarts. Much to Harry's horror, a completely new world of cyberspace was his to discover. Typing Hogwarts in Google yielded thousands of results, the same for Quidditch, Victor Krum, Beau Baton, etc. Every website found was immediately sent to Hermione who would reply by shorthand signs, a sure indication of how taken aback she was.

Hermione and Harry agreed to meet in a park behind Harry's house the next evening. Harry would have liked to go alone but his aunt, who obviously had been spying for lack of better things to do, insistedDudley accompany him. Harry was revolted by his aunt's master plan of a union between Hermione and Dudley but since his cousin was still involved with the quest, he did not see any harm in letting Dudley join.

Hermione was waiting for them on a bench, arms crossed, looking petrified. The implications of what they found on the Internet worried her more than she was willing to admit. She got up and proposedthey keep walking for if she sat one more minute, she would go crazy.

"To think the Ministry of Magic has been obsessed with Muggles finding out about magic," Hermione pointed out. "They never bothered to check the Internet which was the obvious place to start. To top it all off, they have a WWN."

"What's that?" asked Dudley.

"It's an internet for Wizards."

"How come you never told me?" Dudley shouted at Harry. "I thought you knew nothing about the Internet."

"He doesn't," Hermione cut in. "The WWN is completely different, it is similar but it operates on magic, not keyboard."

"How could they?" Harry said, having not paid attention to Dudley. "Just look at me. If it weren't for Dudley, I would have never known about the Internet, and I was raised a Muggle! Just think; Mr. Weasley has no idea what a toaster is."

"They don't have toasters?" gasped Dudley.

"No," sighed Hermione. "You're right, the Wizarding community and the Muggle world are too far apart for either one to find out about the other."

"There's not enough magic in all the wizards to wipe the memory of the Internet. I don't think there's even a spellthatwould do the trick. Anyhow, the big question is: who are these people who know so much about Hogwarts?"

Harry did not finish his phrase since vocalizing the immensity of the problem was too horrendous.

"There isn't a way to find out who's behind all this?" asked Hermione to Dudley.

"No. Well I mean yes. It's not likethatwebsite aboutthatwiccan store. I can find out who's behind a website but there're thousands of them. Maybe hundreds of thousands! There's just no way for me... well you know."

They walked in silence, Hermione and Harry knowing exactly what Dudley meant. For the first time, the two wizards were confronted with a crisisthat could not be fixed with magic. Since being mute was not helping, Hermione went on.

"We're back to the beginning. Wizarding world and Muggle world cannot function as one."

"But what about you two?" Dudley pointed out. "You saidthere were a lot of Muggles at Hogwarts. Stop being so god damn obsessed with your wizard stuff and focus on humans for a change."

Dudley's shout froze Hermione and Harry on the spot. Harry wanted to punch his cousin but Hermione stopped him. More than Harry, she understood how badly Dudley felt about wizards being considered superior humans.

"You're right," Hermione shouted, having had an epiphany. "I am human! I have human parents, I drive a car, and I have a cell phone. And I am not the only Muggle in the magic world."

"I have no idea what you're talking about Hermione," Harry said impatiently.

"We need to get to the Ministry of Magic or the Order of the Phoenix, or any wizard you think will listen." Turning to Dudley, Hermione continued. "You said it yourself. There were so many websites talking about the Magic world that it would take insane amount of magic to do this, and only one wizard can."

"Yes," Harry said. "Of course: Voldemort!"

"Voldemort?" repeated Dudley. "What's that?"

"That, my friend," said Hermione, putting one arm around Dudley's shoulder as if he was a partner in crime, "is what you are going to search from now on the web while Harry and I go find reinforcement."

Hedwig spent the next three days flying back and forth, to the point of exhaustion, delivering mail from Hermione to Ron, from Ron to Harry, from Harry to Ron, and so on. As Hermione predicted, explaining to Ron the concept of "computers talking to one another in some cyber world" proved a gruelling task. The letters were getting so long and the explanations so abstractthat Harry decided to set up a meeting at Grimmauld Place with Ron.

The third Friday of July, Hermione and Harry appeared in front of Sirius' old house. He paused to contemplate the buildingthatwas his while Hermione waited next to him in silence. Bad memories needed to be set aside, Harry smiled at Hermione and pushed the door.

They were immediately greeted by Ron who jumped at their necks, so happy he was. It was no surprise for the two newcomers to seethe remaining members of the Order or the Phoenix present; Ron was bound to invite them without asking for permission. In the living room stood Ron's parents, Moody, Lupin, Tonks and other people obviously new to the group.

"Harry, Hermione, let me introduce the Shecks twins, Lorelei Stiar and her brother Leilo and finally, professor Gauthierseen," said Mrs. Weasley pointing to two identically looking skinny men, a seven foot tall woman standing next to a dwarf and an old and extremely fat man wearing a long green coat with just a bit of red hair on his head. Handshakes and quick words were exchanged before a heavy silence crept over the residence. It was now Harry's turn to speak.

"I'll be blunt: I know how to get rid of Voldemort. Professor Dumbledore found a way and shared it with me, but don't ask me to give you the details, it would jeopardize everything."

"We knew Dumbledore was close to finding something," pointed out Lupin. "I speak for everyone here when saying that we are more than gladhe told someone before dying."

"I still need your help," added Harry quickly. "Not with Voldemort but with something more urgent. I'm sure Ron has explained."

"I tried," said Ron. "But no one believed me. I think it's because I don't really understand it myself."

"Well maybe this will help."

Hermione got everyone's attention as she opened her bag and put a strange object on a table: a laptop. Although she explained as best as she could, only Harry was able to understand. Hermione got frustrated since she could not connect to the Internet, a problem she had foreseen:her wireless network card could not operate within magical places. She would have to continue the representation outside.

The group stepped out stood at the nearest street corner. Onlookers did not pay much attention for Grimmauld Place was in a very shady neighbourhood and congregation of strange people was practically normal in this part of town.

There," said Hermione with relief, able to open one website about Hogwarts.

"So every Muggle can look at this?" said Bill Weasley, embarrassedthatas Chair of Muggle's affairs in the Ministry, he knew nothing about it.

"And it gets worse," continued Hermione. "This is just one website. Now think hundreds of thousands of them, not just about Hogwarts, but about Dumbledore, Diagon Alley, even Beau-Baton. The supposedly hidden world of magic is right there for every human to see."

Hermione surfed from one site to the next, so quicklyonly Lupin, with his acute senses, grasped the enormity of the problem. Mrs. Weasley was about to ask a question when screams coming from the house surprised them. They rushed back in and had to cover their ears so loud the screams were: wine glasses on shelves were shattering.

"It's from upstairs," yelled Tonks, whose voice was the only one loud enough to be heard.

The group rushed to the second floor and foundthe picture of Sirius' mother had gone from its frame. This screaming died out and was replaced with ghastly breathing. One by one, they entered a large empty room. In a dark corner, on a chair as big as a throne, sat a woman perfectly still: Sirius' mother, Walburga.

"Blimey!"

Ron's expression summed up everyone's sentiments. The woman was terrifying, with hair dangling from all sides, covering at least ten square feet of floor, eyes blood red and sharp teeth as if she was a werewolf. Lupin approached since he did not run the risk of becoming a werewolf himself. The woman did not flinch; she sat there, eyes fixed on the floor, fingernails clawed on the arms of the chair.

"How can this be?" Moody said.

"I have no idea," whispered one of the twins. "She had been dead for too long to have successfully hid her soul in her portrait."

"Unless…"

Lorelei Stiar could not finish her phrase; Walburga started to scream again. Every wizard bombarded the witch with spells and jinxes but to no avail. The red, green, yellow and violet beams coming out of their wands went through the witch and as if she was not there. Only the surrounding walls were damaged. Again, as quickly as it started, the screaming died to be substituted with heavy breathing.

"Let's get out of here," shouted Lupin.

Once they gathered in the corridor, Lupin raised his wand and shouted; "Murio Silencio!" The spell could hardly be heard since Sirius' mother went on with her screams again: it was so loud eardrums were on the verge of breaking. Lupin realized that one voice was not enough. He looked at the others and yelled; "on the count of three." In unison, a very loud "Murio Silencio" triumphed over the screams, rendering the corridor soundproof.

"You think it will hold?" Tonks asked.

"As long as we keep the door closed," answered Lupin, walking back and forth in the corridor, making surethe wall circling the room had no holes.

"Let's go back down," said Bill Weasley.

Tonks was the first to go but needed Lupin's help in the middle of the staircase to carry on. Harry grabbed Ron's arm and whispered; "what is wrong with her?"

"She was attacked by a Dementor. He broke her left leg."

"What!" said Harry incredulously. "Dementors do not physically attack people!"

"They do now," said Mad-Eye with fear in his voice. "The Ministry reported no less than twenty attacks in the last two weeks. Tonks was lucky to escape with just a fracture."

"Just a fracture?" Harry said indignantly.

"The other victims had severed limbs," said Mrs. Weasley, throwing disapproving looks at Moody for his gruesome details. In her eyes, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still children in need of protection.

Mr. Weasley led the group to the dining room where the meeting continued. Professor Gauthierseen made teacups and biscuits appear in front of each member. Ron, who sat next to Hermione, whispered to her; "That's nothing. That Gauthierseen can do magicthatwould put Dumbledore to shame."

Professor Gauthierseen heard Ron and winked at Hermione, giggling so fasthis huge abdomen roared like a motor. Harry could not help but notice sadness in Mrs. Weasley's eyes but did not want to pry. He was ambivalent about Professor Gauthierseen, but Ron's comment about Dumbledore was hard to swallow.

"So, if I understood you well, there is a thingMuggles use to communicatethathas details about Magic world," resumed Mr. Weasley.

"I am afraid it has deeper consequences than that." Hermione said. "The Internet is not just a thing to communicate, it's a way of life; it has changed everything as far as Muggles are concerned. People rely on it to get information and exchange messages. The strength of the Internet isthatanyone can put on it whatever they want for everyone to see. What scares me is how easy it is to search for Hogwarts or Dumbledore and find so many results."

"But before looking, one needs to know what to look for. Do they not?" questioned the dwarf with a deep, unexpected baritone voice.

"No. The Internet is like a forest where every tree and every branch are connected. If a person searches for words like magic, they would find websiteswith links to Hogwarts."

Hermione's explanations finally cleared up any doubts. The silence was proofthatmembers of the Order felt as helpless as Hermione and Harry.

"Someone has to tell the Ministry," Lupin pointed out.

"As if they did not have enough with the Dementors attacks!" Mr. Weasley shouted in despair. "And not just in England. Germany and the United States have reported similar aggressions. I am afraidthe Dark Lord has fledged world war upon us."

"Maybe," softly said the Shecks twins, "but evil is still marginal. Be it in London, be it in England or be it in the world, good magic prevails. What we have to do now is rally the troops."

Though the twins tried to bring hope into the house, the task at hand was no less enormous. Comments, questions and answers filled the next hour out of which a plan was laid: as in the Muggle world, information needed to flow freely and quickly. Before Mr. Weasley adjourned the meeting, he addressed two capital issues.

"Will you join us for Bill and Fleur wedding in August? Mr. Weasley asked Hermione and Harry.

"Yes" replied Harry while Hermione expelled a loud "Of course" as if asking the question was an insult.

"Good," said Mr. Weasley who added; "and Harry's seventeenth birthday is coming up…"

"I know," murmured Harry, knowingthe observation did not refer to do something as mundane as a party.

"You can stay with us," said Mrs. Weasley kindly.

"Professor Dumbledore told me to stay with the Dursleys. That is until the thirty first."

Before Mrs. Weasley could rebuttal, the scream came barging in again. The group went back up with the exception of Tonks and Mrs. Weasley who preferred sat at the table with magical earplugs. No one was surprised to see the door open but there was a new element in the room: Kreacher. There, on his knees, the elf was bowing to his mistress with tears in his eyes.

Lupin quickly closed the door, leaving Kreacher in, and the house was silent again: the spell was holding. Mr. Weasley started to head back down when Hermione stopped him.

"No, we need to find out if she's really back."

"What?" said Professor Gauthierseen who probably was the last one to understand what Hermione meant.

"Right," said Harry. "Kreacher is my elf, unless he reverted back to the Black ancestor."

Harry waited for everyone to cover his or her ears and opened the door. No matter what the disgruntled Kreacher said, his old mistress did not acknowledge his presence. Harry waited for the screams to die.

"Kreacher, come over here, right now."

The elf turned around with such a vicious lookHarry thought for a secondWalburga was alive and had claimed back her elf. Kreacher got up, moaned and groaned, but eventually got out of the room. Harry shut the door tight.

"Are you responsible for this?" questioned Harry.

"Kreacher has done nothing. Kreacher thought mistress was back. Kreacher was so happy. But Mistress is not back."

Only Hermione felt bad for the elf and would have comforted him had Kreacher not given her hissing sounds when she got close.

"Never mind Hermione," said Harry. "Kreacher is hopeless." Turning to his elf, Harry spoke with such authority and contemptKreacher started to shake.

"I want to know what happened here. You know something you're not telling. You better do it quick or I will burn this house with you and your mistress in it."

"Kreacher doesn't know. He swears to Harry Potter. He was away and he heard his Mistress' voice. Kreacher thought it was the painting but it had been destroyed. Kreacher doesn't know, Creature doesn't know..."

Kreacher repeated the last line over and over. Harry felt disapproving looks from others. He did not intend to scare Kreacher but, as he had expected, knew the elf would only respond to an overbearing voice.

"All right, I believe you. You can go back to wherever you came from."

Kreacher ran away towards a small door at the end of the corridor. Harry was the first one to head down and had to turn back at the bottom of the stairs to look at the group still gathered at the top.

They were all looking at him with something in their eyesHarry could only describe as respect. Mr. Weasley, Mad-Eye Moody and Lupin concluded thata young man had replaced the child. Sooner than later, Harry would naturally lead the Order of the Phoenix even the unavoidable war.

Chapter 4

over there, in the portrait

Hermione's influence on Dudley was such that whenever Vernon Dursley disapproved of having a witch in his domain, aunt Petunia answered back. Harry was not pleased with the situation, unable to figure out what Dudley was hiding under this newfound humanism of his. On the other hand, he was less suspicious of his aunt's intentions having a valid explanation for it: Dudley's social worker called every day to check up on things as she did not buy Petunia's vision of Dudley genuinely making efforts to redeem himself.

"If you're not doing anything for Harry's birthday, we would be delighted to have you over on the thirty-first." It was the first time Harry saw his aunt not twitch pronouncing the words "Harry's birthday."

Hermione, Dudley and Harry looked at one another as if e world had stopped. Petunia Dursley's teeth stayed visible for a good thirty seconds soeveryone could see the authenticity of her smile. As time moved on and still no answer was coming, Petunia's eyes started to broaden with fear.

"You don't want to come?" uttered Petunia.

"Yes," replied Hermione, "but Harry's birthday, well you know..."

Hermione was certain she remembered Harry telling herhis aunt knew the protection spell would end July 31. She did expect that Harry's birthday would be celebrated. Harry too was thinking along the same lines although his thoughts were filled with anger rather than worries.

"Can I speak with you alone?"

It was Petunia Dursley's turn to be baffled; never did Harry question any decisions of her, let alone ask her for a private chat. She stepped out of the kitchen and waited for Harry in the living room. She started to blab an answer about the protection spell when she was cut off.

"How dare you talk about my birthday! How dare you pretend to care!" Harry had had it; the gloves were off.

"Young man, you will not talk to me…"

"I will talk to you anyway I please. I am not afraid of you anymore. I knew I had to play by your rules because if I didn't, I'd be kicked off. But not anymore, and you know why? Because you need me. Yes," screamed Harry," YOU NEED ME!"

"Need you?" growled Petunia with disgust.

"You need me to tell Hermione to come visit soyou can tell Dudley's social workerhe's hanging out with the good crowd. How ironicthatafter all these years, me, the awful thing you had to hide under a staircase, would be your bargaining chip."

Harry realized uncle Vernon had been sitting in his chair, listening with such madnesshe had been paralysed by his fury. He started to shake, grabbed the arms of his chair to lift himself and, with a face bursting with all the colours of a burn pork, bellowed; "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, YOU MISERABLE…"

"Enough," said Petunia swiftly who did not want the situation to get out of hands. "He will not leave our house before the thirty-first. He needs to be here.."

So much was going in Harry's mindit was hard to focus. His aunt was actually retorting to her husband and he, the ridiculous uncle Vernon, was listening. This novelty did not preventHarry from wanting to lash out at both of them. Yet, Harry was kept silent for he sensedsomething was wrong. His aunt and uncle remained silent as well. In the past, they would have rampaged and screamed for much less of an offence. Harry could not understand why his comments had not been met with slaps, kicks, even stab wounds.

Petunia Dursley was not an idiot; Harry was about to find out he had underestimated her.

"It's true Harry, we need you. And I betthateven though you want to hit me with all you've got four all I supposedly had you endure, your curiosity is taking over and you want to know why we need you."

"No, don't tell him. He will run away the ungrateful little..."

Vernon Dursley did not finish his spiteful protest; Petunia cast such a bloody look on himhe slowly sat back in his chair. She turned her ashen grey eyes on Harry and waited for him to reply. Harry had given up feeling surprised, his aunt was reading him like an open book. Nonetheless, he kept the tension by not blinking.

"Why do you need me?"

"Dudley's social worker is coming for a visit on the thirty-first and unless she sees him having fun with you and Hermione, she will think I made the whole thing up."

"Why not ask her to come tonight and get rid of me tomorrow."

"I am not going to get rid of you before you birthday."

"And why not?" whispered Harry with such resentmenthis breath was icing his aunt's throat.

"Because I promised."

"You seriously thinkI'll believe that?"

No answer befell from his aunt. She peered down at him with the coldest of expression. Harry heard his uncle writhe like worm in his corner, finding it hard to keep out of the confrontation.

Harry stepped one foot back having seen the impossible: in the corner his aunt's left eye, ever so minutehe was already doubting himself for seeing it, was a tear. Only the left eye, Petunia was using all her might to control her right eye from shaming her as well. Only one question came to Harry who, without realizing it, manifested it into words; "promised who?"

"Your mother."

Hermione showed up in the living room with Dudley who broke the tense atmosphere by asking a truly idiotic but honest question; "what's going on?"

"Just some last minute details," said Petunia Dursley, looking intensely at Harry. "You can all go back to your studies. I'll bring cookies later."

Harry would have remained there, paralyzed as he was by the enormity of the revelation, but Hermione brought him back to reality.

"You're coming to Harry?"

"Yes," replied Harry, cornered like an animal.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were sipping coffees at the café across the street from The Witch Brew while waiting for Luna. Ron tried to blend in but could not help attract flabbergasted looks from other clients as he said stridently looking at his cappuccino; "that's a coffee!"

"Not so loud, Ron," said Hermione, not meaning a word of it, having too much fun scandalizing the locals.

"Oh let him be," Harry said, secretly sharing Hermione's pleasure.

"My dad never mentioned this. What do you callthatagain?"

"Cappuccino."

"Here, smile guys," Hermione ordered, standing up and taking a picture with her digital camera, quickly regretting not having warned them about something as unexciting as a flash.

"Are you trying to blind me?" said Ron, rubbing his eyes.

"Here."

Hermione turned her digital camera and showed them the picture. Harry timidly smiled but Ron frowned, wondering if Hermione had not used magic. The concept of digital photography took nearly ten minutes to explain, including three different drawings on a napkin.

"I don't understand why I couldn't go myself," mumbled Ron, badly wanting to change the topic. "That girl from the store never saw me, she wouldn't be suspicious."

"Well see, it's just that…"

Harry was beating around the bushes, trying to find a way not to embarrass Ron but Hermione took a more direct approach.

"Only Muggle teenage girls are interested in wicca. A seventeen year old boy walking in and asking about covenants would probably get a false answer from Ushia."

"What! Since when is magic a girl thing? Some of our best wizards are men!"

"Not here," said Harry. "It seemsthatfor Muggles, at least teenage Muggles, magic is associated with witchcraft which in turn is associated with female energy."

"Well said Harry!" applauded Hermione. "Female energy: very subtle and very precise."

"Oh enough," growled Harry who did not like to be known as a feminine energy expert. "Point is, Luna is perfect; she already looks the part."

"What part?" Luna managed to appear next to their table so unexpectedlyHermione gasped. Harry had to ask if she apparated.

"No," Luna said, sitting down next to Ron as if no other explanation was necessary.

"How'd you get here?" questioned Hermione.

"The front door," replied Luna, failing to understand the subtext.

"Right," concluded Harry. "Are you clear with what you have to do?"

"Yes. I read everything Hermione sent me. Father was quite impressed with the ink and the homogeneity of the letters. What magic plume did you use," questioned Luna to Hermione.

"It was my printer, I used my…"

"You told your father!" shouted Harry, cutting in on Hermione.

"Oh yes," said Luna serenely. "Father knows a lot about Muggles."

"Who else did you tell?" Harry's temper was starting to come to the surface.

"No one. Why are you mad at me? Do you think my father is a Dementor?"

Harry regretted his outburst, considering how distraught Luna was. Hermione was about to reassure Luna but Harry took over.

"Of course not; nothing could be further from our minds. It's justthatwith my birthday coming up I'm a bit on edge. In fact, I'm glad you told your father. Maybe he will be able to tell the Ministry Voldemort is planning something with Muggles."

"You really think so," said Ron.

"Well that's why Luna is here. She will help us find out."

Some last minute details were cleared up and Luna was off. Hermione was amazed at how unaffected Luna seemed to be; she was one of the rare person Hermione could not figuring out. A long vigil commenced for the trio. Coffees were served then cakes, minutes transformed into a half hour, which became an hour. Having run out of money, they walked out of the restaurant. Though the weather had cooled, Harry was still suffering from the heat.

"What's wrong Harry, it's notthathot," said Hermione worried.

"I don't know, it seems to be getting worse as my birthday is getting closer."

Hermione and Ron took pity on their friend, feeling helpless as they could not magically create snow. Impatience was running high and Ron was just about to go barging in The Witch Brew when they saw Luna exit with piles of books and pamphlets.

"Well that's it, will continue at my house," proposed Hermione, wanting to get Harry into an air-conditioned spacefree of charge.

"How are we all going to fit in your two-seater?" Harry asked.

Having just arrived, Luna who heard everything, said simultaneously with Ron; "what's a two-seater?"

"An automobile," translated Harry while Hermione was talking to some guy named Eugene on her cell phone.

After hanging up, Hermione gave a quick course on cell phones and happily discoveredboth Ron and Luna understood. A car honked then a man, dressed in a black suit wearing a cap, stepped out of an enormous automobile and opened one of its six doors. The chauffeur bowed from the head as Hermione stepped in.

"Well come on," said Hermione to the three astounded wizards still standing on the sidewalk.

"Where to Miss?" asked the man.

"Home, Eugene."

Hermione felt uncomfortable; three pairs of inquisitive eyes fixed upon her. Ron was upset the most so it was at him she looked when saying; "I am rich. I never said anything because, well because…"

"I'm also rich," quickly said Harry, wanting to help Hermione understanding how telling others one was rich was not a pleasant experience.

"I guess the best way to explain it is to saythatin the Muggle world my family is like Malfoy's. I don't mean the evil side, I mean the ancestral side."

"Oh," oozed Luna. "You are a pureblood from many generations."

"Something like that. My family goes back a long way. The first Granger was some kind of big landowner in the fourteen century."

Hermione was breathing heavily as if she was trying to keep a dark secret. Harry, who was sitting by her side, took her hand though he knewRon was the one she needed the most.

"It's funny," said Harry to Ron. "Telling peopleyou're rich should be the easiest thing in the world."

Ron was dead silent, eyes fixed on Hermione. He was not finding anything funny about the situation.

"I don't want you to think any differently of me. I'm sorry if I'm not finding the right words but I've always kept my…"

"Your standing?" Ron cut in with an icy voice.

"Well yes! My standing if you want to usethatterm. If you must know, my father is a Duke! But then again, I'm sure you have no idea what a Duke is."

"I do," said Luna. "It's a form of royalty in the Muggle world."

"Yes."

Hermione had no desire to speak; Ron's attitude was killing her. Harry was resentful at Ron and had it not been for the absence of a table between them, he would have kicked Ron's leg under it.

A good half-hour passed in complete silence. Hermione and Ron looked at the scenery changing through the windows. The car was moving into roads lavished with trees and flowers. Luna was gasping with joy since this was her first real trip outside Wizarding world.

The car turned left and went under a silver plated gate at the end of which stood a gigantic manor. Eugene stepped out and opened one of the backdoor offering his helping hand to Hermione. Harry and Luna followed but Ron remained frozen in his seat. He watched as Hermione's parents walked down the marble steps to greet them. Ron's heart nearly broke when he saw Mrs. Granger embrace Harry.

"Ron," said Mrs. Granger. "We are so happy to finally meet you."

"This is Harry, Mother," said Hermione. "And this is Luna."

"Oh I'm sorry. Welcome to you both," said Mrs. Granger warmly shaking Harry and Luna's hands.

"I thought you said Ron was with you," said Mr. Granger, looking around.

Ron could not believe his ears. He slowly got out of the car and was gobsmacked to find himself squeezed by Mrs. Granger.

"So you are the famous Ron Weasley," said Mr. Granger, strongly holding Ron's hand.

"Yes, Duke Granger," mumbled Ron.

"I will have none of that, young man. I forbid you to use such foul terms as duke and duchess."

"What my husband is saying," said Mrs. Granger who picked up on Ron's embarrassment, "isthatto you, and any of Hermione's friends, we are simply Mr. and Mrs. Granger."

The group was offered a grand tour of the house. Harry and Luna were amazed at every room while Ron kept looking at Hermione who rightfully ignored him. WhileHermione and Luna were talking to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Harry took Ron aside.

"Listen. I knowthis money thing is hard for you but trust me, it's even worse for Hermione. She obviously cares about you and seeing how you treated her in the car, she was right to not to tell you anything before.."

"I know," said Ron with profound remorse. "It's justthatmy family is so poor compared to…"

"Compared to who? Me? I'm rich too according to you."

"It's just that… I mean, for you it's different but for Hermione. I mean, look at her, look at all she has! Why hang around with me?"

"Because she does! Come on Ron, you must knowthatby now. Look at her, she's miserable."

Ron agreed, Hermione was miles away from whatever her father was talking about.

"Now, you go over there and do what you do best."

"What's that?" said Ron.

"Go stand next to her and her father and say something stupid. Make them laugh."

Harry knew he could say such things to his friend without being misinterpreted. He joined Luna and Mrs. Granger but kept an eye on Ron who, as he predicted, managed to have Mister Granger explode with laughter in less then two minutes. Harry even saw the "traditional" elbow kick by Hermione; everything was fine.

"It is strangethateven though you are so wealthy, you only had one child."

Harry's heart's stopped. Luna had pulled one of her infamous reality check on Mrs. Granger who, stunned for only two seconds, burst out laughing so loudRon, Hermione and Mr. Granger rushed over. Mrs. Granger grabbed Luna by the shoulders and said with outmost delight; "Hermione did not lie about you Luna, you are exactly as I had hoped you would be. How wonderful!"

Mrs. Granger repeated Luna's question for those who had missed it, taking sadistic satisfaction in seeing her daughter cover herself with one of her scandalized looks. Hermione's father had the same reaction; he had to hold his abdomen tight so hard he was laughing. When the two adults finally regained control of themselves, Mrs. Granger answered Luna.

"We did want more children. When I was pregnant with Hermione, we were in Zaire where my husband was helping set up a local hospital and I was overseeing the construction of a physics institute. We had not expected to stay more than a month but time has a way to elude anyone who is too busy to check the calendar. So, I gave birth to Hermione over there. The labour was difficult and I started to haemorrhage. My husband was far in the savannah and the local doctor was clueless."

"I had no idea, I would have rushed back straight away," said Mr. Granger holding his wife. "The doctor did a hysterectomy though it was unnecessary. You cannot blame the man for he had so little training and was swamped with fixing injured soldiers coming in by the dozen. There was a war going on. But he managed to do one amazing thing."

Mr. Granger held Hermione close to him and said; "he brought Hermione safely into this world."

The intensity of the bond between mother, father and daughter was overwhelming for Harry who could only guess what his life would have been had he encountered a similar fate. He shook his head determined not to revert back to his own little self, to enjoy what was so marvellously offered to him.

"My great uncle Shelasxter also had to have his hysteria removed. It took seven wizards to come up with the proper spell since hysteria had never happened in a man before."

Again, uncontrollable hilarity could be heard all over the manor. Harry, Ron and Luna kept looking at the Grangers, as they failed to understand what the joke was but laughed nonetheless.

"Well," managed to say Mrs. Granger between two hiccups, "I think I understand what the problem with your uncle is. If he ever wants to come visit, I have a dear cousin, an interior decorator, I'm sure he would be delighted to meet."

If Ron, Harry and Luna had been confused before, they were now completely lost. Mrs. Granger, understandingit was best not to explain, took her husband by the hand and left Hermione alone with her friends in the big portrait Gallery.

"All right," Hermione said, sitting on a sofa, "we should talk about The Witch Brew. So Luna, what happened?"

"Oh yes, I almost forgot about that. I had a lovely time with Ushia. I'm not so sure she's one hundred percent Muggle."

"Yes she is," replied Hermione cavalierly. "I told you I checked the place for magic and I found nothing."

"Oh, I am not talking about magic. I am talking about Ushia. I don't understand why Harry and you did not see the resemblance."

"The resemblance?" repeated Harry.

"With Snape."

"Blimey."

Ron's remark reverberated in every corners of the Great Hall. Hermione and Harry looked at each other, grasping what Luna meant.

"Loads of people resemble other people without being related," Ron pointed out.

"Unless they have the same last name," said Luna, no expression whatsoever. "It was written under the counter. Ushia Snape and her Witch Brew."

Hermione and Harry did not catch sight of what was under the counter, busy that they were looking at the silver dices. Neither Hermione nor Harry said a word so Ron decided to carry on.

"You asked her about Snape?"

"Oh no. Hermione specifically ordered me not to raise any suspicion. I talked about wicca instead. I showed great interest in all she said soshe would think of me more as a friend than a customer. She invited me to come see what they do in her covenant."

"Well, good work Luna," Harry said.

"Yes," Hermione repeated, "you did good work. So, what did you talk about for an hour?"

"She showed me books, told me about different potions she made, explained how magic is not like what people think it is. She even…"

Luna stopped abruptly. While speaking, she had been looking at all the portraits in the Great Hall and froze when her eyes fell on a painting on the wall behind Hermione, Ron and Harry.

"What is it," Hermione said, jumping to her feet along with Ron and Harry.

"That's Cecile Granger," Luna said, fixing a ten feet high portrait of a stunningly beautiful young woman wearing a red dress.

"Oh that," said Hermione reassured. "This was my great-aunt. The portrait was painted when she was about my age. How do you know who her?"

"Father and I have an interest in the genealogy of famous wizards. I recognized her immediately. I don't know who the man standing behind her is."

Hermione slowly turned around and gasped when seeing a figure in the background. She slowly moved closer, informing the otherssomething was wrong: no one had been painted in the background. Ron, Harry and Luna approached as well.

"Tom Riddle," murmured Harry, close enough to make out who the face lurking behind Cecile Granger was.

The Great Hall being plastered with marble, the echo had Harry's words reverberate three times before dying out. Then, right in front of their eyes, the unreal happened: Cecile Granger slowly started to turn her head around.

"But that's impossible," shouted Ron. "Only portraits in the Wizarding world can do that."

Hermione, Harry and Luna agreed. They witnessed the terrified eyes of Cecile Granger when she saw Tom Riddle. The witch started to screech with pain and horror. The shadowy figure gradually faded away, as it did, the young Cecile started to change: her hands, face and hair aged so fastit took only thirty seconds for her to be metamorphosed into an old and wrinkled woman.

Spots of grey hair exposing a dry scalp had replaced the long red locks. Her hands were skinny and covered with black blemishes. Cecile Granger returned to her previous position and sat still, her eyes eternally fixed in oil with dread.

"Hermione, what happened?" said Mr. and Mrs. Granger who just came in, alerted by the screams. When they saw the portrait, they understood the gravity of the events and did not bother to grill the four young adults. Mr. Granger put his arms around Hermione and Ron while Mrs. Granger did the same with Luna and Harry.

Chapter 5

wrath in Grimmauld Place's basement

Two more meetings of the Order of the Phoenix took place but little was accomplished beside members snapping at each other. Voldemort's attack on Hermione's house was proofthe Dark Lord wanted to hurt Harry where he was most vulnerable: his friends.

The Ministry had been so busy with Dementors assaulting wizards, old and young,the magic performed at the Grangers was not witnessed by any officials. This infuriated Harry the most; after all, the Ministry was always quick to show up to the minute he performed the simplest of magic. It was so unfair for Hermione who, along with her mother and father, deserved all the protectionAurores could offer.

"This does not surprise me," said Professor Gauthierseen during the last meeting. "Voldemort is using very strange magic, it is neither good nor evil. It operates on some other level that does not leave any residue in the physical world."

"How can you be sure of that?" Harry lashed out.

"I know all the Aurores and I keep excellent contacts with headmasters of every schools. No one is hiding anything from me. Whenever magic is performed in the Muggle world, I am immediately alerted since I am Chair of the World Comity on magical activities. I received the news about your Petronas Harry less than one minute after you had performed them."

"But it happened," whispered Hermione.

"Of course it did," said Mr. Weasley. "No one deniesit Hermione. Trust me, we are taking this very seriously."

"The least you could do is post some Aurores at Hermione's house," proposed Tonks quite frustrated at the lack of concrete action from the other members.

"I have tried Tonks. Trust me, I have tried," said Mr. Weasley.

"Well then, there is one thing to do," said the Shecks twins. "We will stay with the Grangers, at their house. Unless you think your parents would mind?"

Hermione finally felt reassured: the two gigantic identical men sitting in front of her each took one of her hand.

"I think my parents would likethatvery much. It's not as if they can ask for police protection."

"At least we managed to do one thing today," Lupin said sarcastically. "There is still the matter of understanding how Voldemort did it, why he did it and more importantly what is he planning for Harry's birthday."

A cold shiver of silence crept over the table. No one dared look at Harry, crunchedby their own inadequacy; after all, their main goal was protection. Harry did not want the atmosphere to last any longer so he said the first thingthatcame to mind.

"We have one lead. Luna has identified the girl at the wiccan store as a relative of Snape. Surely they must be a spell to make her talk."

"Why do you think she has anything to hide?" growled Lorelei Stiar. "From what you have described, this person seems pretty inoffensive; maybe she is just an innocent bystander. Even if she is related to Severus, she may be unaware of his whereabouts."

"She is not an innocent victim and I can prove it. Take a look at this," said Harry, throwing a book on the table.

The book travelled from one hand to the next, enticing reactions of fear from its title: Horcruxes. Harry had struggled to keep the search for Horcruxes private as Dumbledore had asked but seeing Hermione this morning, her frightened face, her shaking hands, he realized the toll Voldemort's attacked left on her. It was time to divulge allhe knew. His personal search was taking too long and putting others in jeopardy. If he accepted whatever casualties might come to him, he was not ready to let Hermione suffer the same fate.

"That's what professor Dumbledore was searching for. He wanted Horcruxes to be a secret between him and me because Voldemort had spies around all the time. I would have kept looking for them myself but..."

"We know what you are trying to say Harry," said Mrs. Weasley compassionately. "Dumbledore was right to be secretive about Horcruxes. Everyone here agrees. If Albus were alive today, with what you found out about the Muggles being endangered, with Dementors attacks happening all over the world and with Hermione being afraid in her home, Albus Dumbledore would be the first to gather some people around him. Now tell us all you know."

Harry barely had time to open his mouth when the front door broke open and Mad-Eye Moody barged in screaming; "Stop, Harry. Not a word."

Mad-Eye was bleeding from the abdomen; almost blind with only half an eye left, the injured man rushed over to Lorelei Stiar and tried to strangle her. Lupin managed to render Mad-Eye inoffensive. Moody gasped for air while Lorelei Stiar massaged her neck trying to stay cool.

"No!" screamed Mad-Eye. "She's a spy, you don't understand!"

Lupin turned around and transfixed Lorelei Stiar who started to show signs of fear. Tonks bent down and held Mad-Eye in her arms. The old wizard kept screamingLorelei Stiar was a spy but to no avail. He started to choke and spit blood.

"He's dying," screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Professor Gauthierseen took out his wand and aimed it at Mad-Eye but it was too late: the great wizard was dead. All eyes turned to Lorelei Stiar who was backing into a corner. "You cannot be serious, you cannot believe him. Surely Mad-Eye was under a spell."

The dwarf brother tried to escape through a window but was caught by the Shecks twin. This made Lorelei Stiar guilty without a doubt. Both she and the dwarf became incandescent, so hotthe Shecks twins had to let go of the dwarf because their hands were blistering. Professor Gauthierseen tried an ice spell on Lorelei who managed to burn part of the floor under her and disappear into the basement like hot lava.

The dwarf was not so lucky, hit by a water jinx performed by Harry. The icy water surrounded the dwarf who exploded in millions of pieces.

"Follow me," ordered Mr. Weasley to Lupin and the Shecks twins.

Harry joined in. They rushed to the stairs leading to the basement. There, they found another burnt hole in the floor where to witch had disappeared.

"An Ignite," said Professor Gauthierseen, coming down the stairs, breathing heavily as he was not used to violent exercises like running. "I thought they had disappeared. No one has seen them for over two hundred years."

"What's an Ignite?" Harry asked.

"Wizards born with the ability to become fire," answered Mr. Weasley. "They were so dangerousit was decidedtheir igniting faculties would be outlawed."

"This is new," said Gauthierseen, looking down at the hole on the floor. "She managed to travel through rocks. It's almost as if she became pure energy."

Harry, like Mr. Weasley next to him, felt his stomach turn. He had seen Dumbledore performed amazing tricks, Voldemort as well, but never had he witnessed or heard of a witch able to transform into pure energy. Professor Gauthierseen seemed more impressed than scared as he kept adding hypothesis to his observations.

"This is extraordinary. She must be some type of mutated Ignite. Not even a magical residue! It is too bad she escaped, I would have loved to figure out how she's doing it."

"You think there are more like her?" Lupin asked.

"Of course!"

Professor Gauthierseen turned away from the hole and looked intensely at everyone. He forgothe was not giving a lecture to headmasters of magic schools; he needed to temper his statement.

"We already know her brother was an Ignite and even though we did not see him escape like his sister. I am certain he was capable of it. Yet, one very good thinghappened."

Professor Gauthierseen went back to observing the hole as if he had missed something. Over to years, he foundthatkeeping a tension on his audience was the best way to get a message across. He kept pretending to notice some new elements until he finally heard anxious sighs. He then turned to Harry.

"Mr. Potter has again proved his uncanny talent at dealing with Voldemort's allies. We now knowa simple AquaInvia spell will make them explode. Since Lorelei Stiar disappeared before she saw what happened to her brother, she has no cluewe found a weapon against her kind. I propose we keep this bit of information to ourselves."

"That is unless another spy is amongst," added the Shecks twins.

"We don't have to, "said Professor Gauthierseen smiling, whose easy-going attitude was getting on everyone's nerves. "There are no more spies with us. My little trick paid off, although I did not expected the price to besohigh."

"What do you mean?" said Mr. Weasley.

"You sacrificed Mad-Eye, didn't you!" Lupin violently shouted.

"I did not sacrifice Mad-Eye and I resent anyone thinking such a thing. Mad-Eye and I have suspected the Stiars for a while. We decidedit would be best to let them join our little group and thus do some misinformation. Mad-Eye must have discovered more than he had bargained for."

"You knew they were spies and you did not tell us!" raged Ron.

"No, I did not say that. We suspected them but did not know for sure. I did not want to lose precious allies because of a hunch. Mad-Eye was meeting one of his contacts this morning. He must have been intercepted by Death Eaters or Dementors."

"How can you be so indifferent of Mad-Eye's death? You say this as if he was just one more casualty."

Professor Gauthierseen fixed Harry for one long minute before moving in closer. The fat wizard put a smile on his face and grabbed Harry kindly by the shoulders. Hearing noises from the stairs, he waited for Mrs. Weasley and Tonks.

"Casualty is the right word Harry. Mad-Eye is just a casualty, as was Dumbledore, as was Sirius. We are not in a private fight with Voldemort. More of us will get hurt and surely, more will die. It would be a good thing for us if Miss Granger, who I am sure, would give us an idea of Muggle's history with wars. I mean races fighting other races, conflicts where no one is safe, not even children. It is a hard concept for us, wizards and witches, to comprehend since in the Wizarding world, wars of the magnitude Muggles have experienced never scorned or realm."

Eyes moved from Gauthierseen to Hermione who was white as a ghost. Ron walked over and hid her in his arms. Hermione's reaction left a profound effect on the group who was starting to appreciate what Professor Gauthierseen implied.

"Well, let's not linger down here," said Mr. Weasley, making his way towards the stairs.

Hermione pulled on Harry's arm to get his attention. In a low voice, since she did not want a possible spy to hear, she asked Harry if he was feeling hot.

"Yes," replied Harry. "Very hot."

"Well it's hard to miss. You are sweating like you are about to burst into flames."

"Ok, I am hot, so what!"

"Voldemort's spies are Ignites. They can live in pure lava…"

Harry looked at Hermione. Heat had overwhelmed so much lately that he could not think;he was pleased to seeHermione could do the thinking for both of them. Hermione opened her mouth to continue when she was stopped by a strange cracking noise coming from the floor above. All of a sudden, a gigantic noise knocked everyone off his or her feet. It was as if the house had been bombarded,insufferably loud screams followed.

"She must have gotten out of her room," yelled Mr. Weasley.

"That's impossible," retorted Lupin. "I put a locking spell on the outside door."

"Unless she managed to blow the door open from the inside," added Professor Gauthierseen.

The screams were getting closer; the witch knew where they were and was coming for them. It was impossible for anyone to use words. In panic, realizingthey were trapped, they gestured to one another to look for a way out. Mr. Weasley, closer to the door on top of the stairs, took out his wand and did locking spells though everyone knewif Walburga could blow up the door upstairs, the basement door would soon give in as well.

Everyone took out their wands and started to hit the surrounding walls in hope of finding an opening. Concentration was impossible; they hopelessly covered their ears since magical earplugs were useless. Incapable of manipulating their wands, they froze when they heard loud bangs on the door.

Hermione's voice was not loud enough; she got Harry's attention and wrote letters on the wall with her wand. Harry understood, closed his eyes and shouted as loud as he could; "Kreacher." The elf appeared as if he had been waiting nearby.

"Is there a way out of here, some secret door?"

Kreacher could not hear. Concentrating like never before, Harry looked right into Kreacher's eyes and thought the words; "get us out of here!" Kreacher made some grunting sound and proceeded to a dark space under the stairs. He scratched a large panel of wood three times with his left hand and twice from his right. A door opened. Harry showed everyone the way out with an illuminato spell.

Mrs. Weasley, being the farthest away, waslast one to join them. As she passed near the bottom of the stairs, the door on top exploded. The screams were so unbearableMrs. Weasley tipped over and fell to the ground. Harry, who had had not yet gone through the door under the stairs, rushed over to help Mrs. Weasley but was immobilized. Mrs. Weasley, who managed to hold on to her wand l, used a freezing jinx on Harry. She got back up on her feet, walked towards Harry with excruciating pain, pushed him in and closed the door behind her.

Lupin and Mr. Weasley, who were already far down the corridor, turned back when they sawwho was missing. They found Mrs. Weasley holding a paralyzed Harry in her arms, pushing on the door with her back. Lupin performed a locking spell while Mr. Weasley unfroze Harry. He rushed to help his life who fell the floor. Mr. Weasley took Mrs. Weasley in his arms and ordered Harry to move forward.

Lupin was creating locking doors after locking doors behind the Weasleys and Harry. A few seconds later, the four of them were outside, in the courtyard of Grimmauld place. Mr. Weasley put his unconscious wife on the grass

"Molly, Molly," said Mr. Weasley.

"Harry, what happened?" questioned Hermione.

"I don't know. I was paralyzed."

Ron, kneeling next to his mother, was shaking her hands while Professor Gauthierseen was trying different spells to wake her up. Molly Weasley opened her eyes and shouted; "Harry!"

"Harry's fine Molly, you saved him," Mr. Weasley said.

Mrs. Weasley only gazed back at her husband who kept repeating the same words until realizinghis wife was deaf.

"It's fine Molly. It will be fine." Mr. Weasley was talking extremely slow sohis wife would feel reassured by his compassionate composure.

"We need to go to St. Mungo right now," screamed Ron.

"All right," said Lupin. "I will take her with me."

"No!" yelled Ron. "She will come with me."

"No Ron," said Mr. Weasley. "Lupin is the biggest and the strongest of us. Molly will be safer on his broom."

"Harry," said Lupin. "You go to the Dursleys, and don't worry about Walburga; I put enough doors inthatcorridor to occupy her for years."

Lupin called for his gigantic broomstick that flew right into his hand. As if she weighed only a pound, he put Mrs. Weasley in front of him. Before living he gave more instructions.

"Hermione, you go back home with the Shecks twins. Find a way to convince your parents they should stay."

"Don't worry Lupin," said the twins simultaneously. "Hermione and her parents will be safe. Now go."

Lupin and Mrs. Weasley flew off followed by Mr. Weasley. Hermione rushed over to Ron and embraced him. Ron would have stayed in Hermione's arms forever but she whisked him away knowing.

"Why did Mr. Weasley sayMrs. Weasley saved me?" murmured Harry..

"Because young ears are a delicate thing," said Professor Gauthierseen. "Molly knewthatbeing the closest to the witch, her earring would be gone. She is quite a womanthatMolly. She had time to realizea freezing spell would paralyze your whole body: including your eardrums, preventing them from perforating."

Harry was speechless. Mrs. Weasley was like a mother to him, more so nowthatshe did what every good mother does; sacrifice herself to save her child. Hermione took Harry's hand and tried to say something but it was Tonks who found the right words.

"Molly will be all right Harry. They have more spells than they know what to do with them at St.Mungo."

"Well, I need to go to the Ministry," said Gauthierseen. "And you Tonks need to go to Beau-Baton."

"Beau-Baton?" repeated Hermione.

"Yes," answered Tonks, "the Order of the Phoenix has a group over there."

Hermione and Harry bid their friends goodbye and walked around the house towards the street into Muggle world under the supervision of the Shecks twins. Grimmauld place disappeared; an abandoned house replaced it. Very loud music, coming from surrounding houses, surprised them. People were getting out of their flats, screaming at other people, who in turn blamed someone else. It seemedthatevery sound system on the street had been turned on at the same time.

"Harry," said Hermione trembling. "It's starting. What ever happens in the Wizarding world has an effect outside."

"Great," Harry sighed. "Something else to worry about."

Harry consideredthey had been through enough today not to remind themUshia's book on Horcruxes was still in Grimmauld place.

"What about Mad-Eye?" said Hermione.

"I am sure professor Gauthierseen will take care of him," said the twins gently. "Now, let us go meet your parents."

Chapter 6

last day of youth

The private office of the Prime Minister of Great Britain was not at ten Downing Street, as journalists would have the common people believe. Notthatit was a national secret per say but rather an inaccessible place; no less than six access doors, guarded by different security agents, had to be opened before reaching the Prime Minister's bureau. The last door was equipped with the latest electronics devices to confirm the identity. It was this last measurethatamused the most Kingsley Shacklebolt who, being a highly trained Aurore, could tell friend from foe by smelling a person. The Prime Minister himself was using Kingsley's unexpected talent but did not dare inform Scotland Yard.

The Prime Minister looked at the screen on his desk: Shacklebolt approved with a nod from the head. He waited for the official verdict from the Scotland Yard agent posted outside his door to let the two women in. He often wandered, since learning about Shacklebolt's special talents, what would happen if the Scotland Yard agent accepted a person but Kingsley said otherwise.

The Prime Minister gladly shook the hands of the two most powerful women on earth on stepped into his office: Margareth Tims, President of United States and Jeanne Muriault, President of France.

Tims and Muriault had just been elected to the highest seat to their respective country no less than four months ago. They were still having their honeymoon period with their electorate and could do no wrong, at least for the moment. The two women just met on their way to England and quickly discoveredthatboth United States and France were facing the same dangers as Great Britain.

Unprecedented events were hitting every corners of the world, spreading fear and social chaos. If a bridge collapsed for no reason in Denver, Colorado, causing the lives of 200 people, a small earthquake would destroy a quarter of the legendary city of LaRochelle. These events showed up daily on the six o'clock news: no country was safe.

Heads of States had been talking with one another on so many channelsit was hard to make sense of anything. Information was pouring in too fast for any single person to absorb it all. It had been decided, five days ago,thata meeting reuniting as many leaders as possible would be held in London. It quickly proved to be an impossible task for such conferences needed to be planned months, years in advance.

The Prime Minister of Great Britain decided to hold an informal gathering in his office for whoever wanted to come. He knewmost leaders would regard his invitation as blatant arrogance but his closest allies considered the idea excellent though so little of them were able to free themselves. Yet, nowthathe was exchanging polite comments and congratulations with the new leaders of France and the United-States, he knewsomething good would come out of this meeting.

"At least the Medias have not been able to connect the dots."

The Prime Ministers of France and Great Britain appreciated their American counterpart who had a knack for cutting to the chase as all her predecessors did.

"Quite true," replied Muriault. "But I am afraidthey will, soon enough. Especially here in England where the press is notorious for finding what is hidden."

The Prime Minister of Great Britain enjoyed himself immensely; he bowed from the head in agreement. However, the times were too terrible for him to pay any more attention to cultural differences; he needed to focus on the topic at hand.

"We have a theory, I mean Scotland Yard and I, about what is causing these bizarre events."

"Yes, causing is the good way to describe it. My advisors also agreethathazard and pure coincidences have to be ruled out."

"As do mine Madam Tims," answered the Prime Minister. "If we agreethese extraordinary events are connected, we need an extraordinary explanation."

Jeanne Muriault smiled from the corner of her mouth and slowly walked towards a portrait hanging on the wall. Without turning around to face her counterparts, she said; "strange figure for a portrait, don't you think?"

"Yes, strange figure indeed," replied the President of the United States. "I think one of my offices has a similar one."

The tree pair of eyes looked at each other for a brief moment. The Prime Minister of Great Britain, recognizingthe code had been deciphered, broke the silence.

"Well the next question becomes whether a separate Ministry of Magic is assigned to individual countries or were you also visited by a strange looking man with a heavy Scottish accent."

"I've been wondering the same thing for months but thanks to you, I have an answer." The president of France was almost giddy. "I received a visit from a rather old Frenchwoman. Trust me there was nothing Scottish about her. I distinctly remember her mentioning a French Ministry of Magic."

"Well," said the president of the United States, "United States also has its own Ministry of Magic. My ambassador was quite a well dressed man; with a pink suit no less."

"I have not seen the British ambassador from the Ministry of Magic for a while now. It is my sincere hopewe can share any informationpassed on to us."

The atmosphere got heavy; the exchange of information between countries was a delicate affair as the Prime Minister of Great Britain could tell from the worrisome looks of Muriault and Tims.

"You're right," Muriault said, "this is no time for secrecy. We obviously are involved with forcesbeyond our reach."

"It is disconcertingthatwith all our powers and technologies, we are at the mercy of these…" The President of the United States was looking for the right word although she resented using such puerile terms like wizards and witches. "I guess we'll call them wizards for lack of a better term."

"All right, let's agree; wizard it is." The Prime Minister of Great Britain wanted to demonstrate how cooperative he was and decided to go first. "The terrible tragedy of the bridgethatcollapsed about six months ago was caused by wizards fighting other wizards. From what I could understand, there seems to be a war in the magic world, and…"

The Prime Minister did not finish his sentence; a terrible explosion surprised them. Flames coming out of the portrait on the wall nearly missed Jeanne Muriault who docked sideways and fell to the floor. A small fiery thunderbolt followed flew in all directions and ultimately crashed into a corner of the room.

The leaders were so stunnedthey did not realize Shacklebolt had rushed into the room and closed the door behind since he did not want the Scotland Yard agent to come in.

"Revelo," shouted Shacklebolt, standing in front of the thunderbolt pointing with his wand: the thunderbolt was replaced by an old man

"Rufus Scrimgeour," said Shacklebolt, catching the injured wizard in his arms. The Prime Minister of Great Britain helped Jeanne Muriault back to her feet and joined the President of the United States besides Shacklebolt.

It was extremely hard for Rufus Scrimgeour to speak; every parts of his body experienced pain. He looked carefully at each of the Leaders and mumbled; "information passed on to each of you is secret. It is capitalthatwhat was said privately to each of you…"

Rufus Scrimgeour started to cough up blood. The injuries were worse than Shacklebolt had imagined. The Prime Minister of Great Britain rushed to the phone to get medical help but Rufus Scrimgeour stopped him.

"No! Your doctors cannot help me. We do not have much time. You will each be contacted by your respective Ministries, as will every leader of every country. Information need to be restrained. As wizards, we can only protect information on a one-to-one basis when Muggles are concerned. But if Muggles start..."

Rufus Scrimgeour was coughing so much bloodhe could not speak anymore. Shacklebolt tried every curing spell he knew but none worked. In tremendous pain, grabbing his chest as if it was carved open with a knife, Scrimgeour died.

Profoundly shaken by the factthathe, a simple Aurore, was holding the dead body of the Prime Minister of Magic, Shacklebolt remained focused nonetheless. He closed the eyes of Rufus Scrimgeour with his left hand while his right hand was holding his wand.

"Sublimato," said Shacklebolt.

Rufus Scrimgeour disintegrated into billions of miniscule starsthatrose into the air, shined with all colours of the rainbow and disappeared into the portrait as gracefully as snowflakes falling on earth.

"Is he," whispered the Prime Minister of Great Britain who was not completely sure of what had just happened.

"Dead," replied Shacklebolt. "The Minister of Magic is dead."

The president of France approached Shacklebolt to offer a compassionate embrace but the Aurore quickly jumped on his feet and stood straight as an arrow. "This is a terrible ordeal. I need to get back to the Ministry at once."

"What should we do?" questioned the President of the United States.

"Exactly what Rufus Scrimgeour told you: you need to end this meeting right now and go back to your respective country. From this moment on, all conversations between any of you with any other leaders will be intercepted to by our enemies. This war will have to be fought individually."

Shacklebolt used his wand on himself and transformed into a birdthat flew into the portrait. The Prime Minister of Great Britain was about to open his mouth but decided otherwise. The enormity of what was asked of them was sinking in: albeitthatthey were allies, they could not rely on one another.

Alone in his room, Harry was watching the clock. Only thirty minutes away from the 31st of July. He felt lonelier than ever at this moment, which, according to all sources, was to be his last. Earlier today, he talked at length with Hermione via email, Hedwig sent no less than five letters and delivered four: one from Mr. Weasley who assured himMrs. Weasley was on her way to a complete recovery, one from Ron saying the exact same thing but adding a happy birthday at the bottom of the letter, a sensitive one from Ginny who carefully hid her feelings towards him and an unexpected one from professor McGonagall whishing him the best. These letters were heavy from their missing words: nothing about the end of the protection spell.

Quarter to midnight. Harry rose from his sleeping position thinkinghe heard noises. It was unlikely since his aunt and uncle never went to bed after ten. He got up and looked into Dudley's room where his cousin was snoring. This time he did not imagined it, some objects or something was moving on the first floor. He tiptoed down the staircase and saw light bleed floor from the kitchen. Petunia Dursley was cooking.

"Yeep!" screamed his aunt. "Don't you sneak up on me like this; you could give me a heart attack."

"What are you doing?" asked Harry who did not really carehe startled her.

"What does it look like I'm doing! I'm making pies."

"Why so late?"

"Because there is a party tomorrow here, unless you forgot. Go back to your room and leave me alone."

Harry stared at his aunt for a while. Only now did he noticethataround his birthday, she always cooked pies. Notthatit mattered but she could at least try a cake. It is not as if she was a bad cook. She must have baked thousands of cakes for her husband and Dudley over the years but all he ever got was at a lousy pie.

For lack of a better thing to do besides dying in ten minutes, Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked at Petunia rolling the dough with infinite precision. She used the same roller, some heavy marble objectthatwas at all always on the kitchen counter. Harry laughed, thinkingthatwhen Petunia Dursley will be dead, Dudley will have a pastry roller carved on her tombstone.

Petunia moaned heavily,Harry was getting on her nerves. He went back up the stairs but stopped in the middle, a paralyzing fear had taken hold of him. His legs weighed a ton, each step becoming more difficult as he was reaching the top. Finally in his room, he shut the door and held his breath. He closed his eyes and repeated; "mom, dad, mom, dad..."

Sometimes there after, he opened his eyes and glanced around the room where everything was normal. Except for one crucial detail: the clock on his desk showed seventeen minutes past midnight.

Harry rummaged through his drawer and found his watch, which also indicated seventeen minutes passed midnight. Harry's heart was pounding, the reality punching hard on his stomach: he was alive.

He needed to be sure and rushed out of his room back down to the kitchen. He stopped dead in its tracks: Petunia was standing still, frozen in the middle of the kitchen. Harry's senses were on edge;he incorrectly interpreted the immobility of his aunt as magically induced. He started to walk towards her but had to stop when she moved. Petunia Dursley had not been frozen; for some strange reason she had stopped working when her eyes fell on the clock over the oven.

"Are you are all right?" whispered Harry.

"You? Are you all right?"

The question made so much senseHarry did not understand how he could answer. Can it behis aunt stayed up because of him? They stared at one another for what seemed hours when they were surprised by the telephone. Petunia, terrified, looked at the instrument ringing on the wall; she could not fight her fear of answering. Harry walked over, took the receiver, and barely said hello.

"Harry! Harry you're okay!" Hermione was hysterical.

"Hermione, it's you. Yes I'm all right."

Hermione started to talk non-stop like she always did when she was nervous but Harry did not pay attention. The instant his aunt figured outit was Hermione, she slowly untied her apron, put her roller on the table, left the dough to sit in the flour on the table, did not put away the unfinished pies, exited the kitchen, and went into her room. Harry told Hermioneeverything was fine,thathe was going to see her the next day and hung up.

He found some cellophane paper, wrapped the dough as he had seen his aunt do so often and put it the freezer. He enveloped the remaining pies in a bag and sealed it tight before stuffing it into the fridge. He turned off the light and went back to his room.

Harry Potter was now seventeen-year-old. The infamous date had arrived without as much as a twinkle from a lamppost on the street. Harry looked at his clock and took pleasure in watching new minutes replace old minutes. Somehow, his mother and father came through for him.

Strangely, just before plummeting into a deep sleep, his last thoughts were for his aunt. Although it was hard to admit, she kept a vigil for him tonight and, like a soldier who had been at attention for a long time, dropped her gun, and went to bed once the threat was over.

It was past eleven when Harry woke up. He checked his arms, his legs even his face and since everything seemed to be in place, jumped out of bed. The extreme heating sensationwas gone. Harry Potter was as alive as never before. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, got dressed and walked out.

The house was quiet; Harry thoughtthe Dursleys must have rushed out early in case of some horrible fate would bestow the house on this morning all of all mornings. He went to the kitchen where he grabbed some bread and made some toasts. Upon putting slices in the toaster, he looked out the window; it took him five seconds before understanding what he was looking at. In the backyard, Petunia Dursley, Vernon Dursley and, as if it was possible, Dudley Dursley were busy decorating.

Harry feared being seen and backed away into a dark corner of the kitchen. Tables had been delivered and Dudley was covering them with white linen. His aunt was cutting flowers from her own garden and carefully arranging them on each table. Some enormous event was going to take place today but Harry refused to believeit had anything to do with a birthday. Harry jumped when Dudley barged into the kitchen.

"What's going on?" shouted Harry.

"Don't go pretendingyou don't know."

"I don't know. What are you guys doing?"

"You're getting a birthday, a big fat birthday!"

"What!"

Dudley raised his eyebrows as if bitten by an ugly frog. He genuinely believed Harry was laughing at him and walked out. Harry was as surprised as he was upset so he ran outside to confront the Dursleys. His uncle grabbed him first.

"Somebody finally decided to get up. Take some chairs and put them around the tables. It's bad enough we have to celebrate your birthday, you won't let us do all the work on top of it."

"Why are you celebrating my birthday? You've always ignored it!"

"Because you're aunt thoughtthe best way to impress Dudley's social worker is by throwing you a birthday and have Dudley give you gifts. I was against this project from the beginning but since the social worker will be dropping later on this afternoon..."

Vernon Dursley was so aggravatedhe did not feel the need to finish his sentence. Petunia walked over with some flowers and added them on a vase near a table where Harry stood. She tried her best to ignore him but had to give in when he started to question her as well.

"Why not just celebrate Dudley's birthday?"

"Because the social worker knows when Dudley's birthday is." Petunia put on her most severe face and lowered her voice. "Now you listen, and listen well. We have taken care of you for seventeen years and it's time to pay back. You will enjoy yourself and make sure all your friends consider Dudley as one of their own in front of the social worker."

"What friends?"

"Hermione was kind enough to invite friends of yours. I have no idea what a girl like Hermione Granger sees in you." Petunia Dursley's countenance was so wrinkled with revulsionHarry dropped the subject.

He went back into the house and tried phoning Hermione but she did not answer. Having lost his appetite for his toasts, he walked out of the house and into the street. This celebration was going to slow him down. He had firmly decided he would be out of this house as of today and heading to Godric's Hollow. This fake birthday was the last thing he needed.

"But I'm free!" Harry said aloud, walking away from the house.

This revelation came to him suddenly. His promise to Dumbledore had been fulfilled and he did not need to stay one minute longer. Ditching his fake birthday would be the best way to repay the Dursleys for their kindness has his aunt so diligently put it

"Look at how he's grown!"

"Such posture!"

"Like a king overseeing his kingdom."

"Simply perfect."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. About fifty feet away stood, right in the middle of the street as if no cars could hit them, four old women. Each dressed in a different colour, they were looking at him. A tall skinny one in light green, another skinny but shorter one in satin blue, next to them was a round and plumped woman in bright pink and finally the shortest of the group, more plumped than the last, wearing deep red.

They kept smiling at him as if he was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen but restrained from introducing themselves. They resembled one another so muchHarry deduced they were sisters. The tallest, dressed in green, turned to the others and said; "how about we scare Petunia!"

"Delightful," said the green one, "unavoidable," whispered the pink one while the red one declared with extreme seriousness; "long overdue." Without looking at Harry, they walked in four Privet Drive. Harry's curiosity burned his soul; he had to postpone his departure. Rushing back to the house, he caught on with the ladies.

"Do I know you?"

"We never introduce ourselves, we let others do it," answered the shortest with some contempt and kept walking as if he wasn't there. They went directly to the back of the house. Harry got ill with excitement when he saw the face of his aunt. Dudley and Vernon Dursley stopped what they were doing and, like Harry, watched in awe since none had a clue of what was going on.

"Well Petunia, don't just stand there, come and embrace your aunts," shouted the pink one viciously.

"And while you do that, introduce us to our nephews," added the red one.

"But not before your husband. Protocol oblige" pompously commented the green one.

"Quite right," said the blue one throwing looks at Vernon about to explode.

Petunia could not move a finger; she was holding lilies in her hands, paralyzed. It had been so long since she saw these womenshe forgot they existed. Catching her breath and summoning her self-control, she turned to her husband and pointed respectively at the tallest to the shortest.

"Vernon, I would like to present you my aunts: Alice, Jessy, Mona and Josephine." Turning to her aunts, Petunia continued which such calculated gestures of the finest of upbringingHarry nearly tripped on his shoelace.

"Aunts, I would like to present my husband Vernon Dursley, my son Dudley and your nephew, Harry Potter."

No one dared moved if not for a brief curtsy of the head. The deed was not finished for Petunia who, still clinging to her lilies as if they were an armour, walked over and embraced each woman from left to right, carefully starting with the tallest, the oldest, right down to the shortest, the youngest.

"Nephew?" repeated Harry.

"Grand nephew," clarified Alice. "Petunia and Lily were our nieces, Harry." Turning to Petunia, who looked as if she was waiting to be hit with a stick, Alice put a smile on her face and said; "I dare say; we are pleased with you Petunia. There were times in your adolescence when we doubted if you'd make anything of yourself."

"You kept our secret as you were instructed," continued Jessy.

"I knew you had it in you," cut Mona. "Unlike my sisters, I had complete faith in you."

"Maybe," added Josephine, "but I think fear was your main motivation, not honour. You knewif word of our existence slipped into the Wizarding world, the Dark Lord would connect the dots and figured outthatif Harry was not with us, he must be with you."

"How dare you!" snapped Petunia who finally had enough. "Off course I've been afraid. You forced Dumbledore's hand by disappearing after Lily's death. I had to let a bomb enter my home even though I had a young son of my own to protect."

"And protect you did," continued Josephine. "But the way you treated Harry is appalling. You hid him under the stairs!"

"I would have dug a hole in my backyard if I could. You were not here! You did not jump at every little noises, you did not hold your breath every time the doorbell rang. All I could think was to hide Harry."

"I'm sure you took some pleasure in it," whispered Jessy angrily.

"That's enough!" screamed Alice. "There is only one truth here: Harry is alive and so is Dudley. The spell..."

Mona grabbed Alice's hand to shut her up. The sisters walked silently around the backyard since magic ears could be dropping in. After a minute or so, Mona turned to Petunia and congratulated her.

"The protection spell is still holding but I am sensing some other spell at work."

"I don't know what you're talking about," shouted Petunia.

"We don't need the protection spell anymore," announced Harry blissfully. "I am now seventeen and nothing has happened."

Alice move closer to Harry, took his chin in one of her hand and said dismally; "you will be seventeen at six p.m. tonight Harry."

Harry's happiness vanished as if it had been a dream. He never expected a precise minute to matter. He alive simply because there were some hours left.

"Now wait a minute," bellowed Vernon Dursley. "I don't remember inviting any of you. And this party is not for Harry but to impress Dudley's..."

"Social worker," Josephine cut in. Had it not been for Alice's intervention, she would have added pain to insults, fuelled by the desire of tearing Vernon Dursley apart.

"My dear nephew," said Alice walking towards Vernon, "I can only imagine the ordealthe past seventeen years have been for you. I salute your immense strength of character for holding the fort."

"Well... yes... it was an ordeal," mumbled Vernon Dursleys.

"I would very much like to hear more. Maybe we could go inside the house, I'm afraid the sun is treacherous for my ancient skin. I hope you can make some tea; I will help calm my nerves."

Vernon took Alice's arm and started to rant. She leaned on him as if he was strong and disappeared in the kitchen. As he walked into the house, Vernon Dursley's face became purple so fast Alice put her free hand on her bosom to show how deeply touched she was by the poor man's terrible life.

"Young man," said Josephine as she approached Dudley, "I want to hear why a social worker is coming to visit you."

Josephine was at least a foot shorter than Dudley but she looked up with such intensitythe vain teenage boy gave in and started answering questions. Josephine was walked nervously, knowingDudley would follow her and ended up on the front lawn. The plan worked, Petunia and Harry were alone with Jessy and Mona.

"You knew my mother?" Harry said.

"We more then knew her," replied Mona softly. "We adored her and your father. I can see both of them in you. They passed on their dignity and honour. You have no idea how hard it was for us to remain absent while you were growing up."

Jessy embraced Harry for the longest time. Mona thought it best not to leave Petunia alone for she too had been abandoned. Petunia Dursley had seventeen years of frigidity built into her soul and was incapable of receiving a simple act of compassion. Instead of an embrace, Mona merely took one of her hand.

Harry had so many questions but he was surprisedby the arrival of Hermione, Ron, and Luna. Harry greeted them while explaining who the strange and colourful women were. Hermione was glad for Harry though she read disappointment on his face when realizingGinny was not with them.

The party got on swiftly, drinks were served and the entrées passed along. Hermione took advantage of a moment alone with Harry to talk about Ginny.

"She wanted to come you know."

"Who?" said Harry clumsily.

"Ginny of course! It was hard for her to stay back but apparently she was doing what you wanted her to do."

Harry took a sip of pineapple juice, hopingHermione would drop it but then again, he knew she wouldn't.

"You need to stop this stupid hero attitude of yours. We appreciateyou're trying to protect us but you'll have to face the factthatwe are masters of our own lives. Ginny knows full well what the consequences are."

"I don't want to go over this now. If there's one thing I cannot do, is to sacrifice any of you."

Harry's comment hit Hermione hard: she gathered her thoughts before answering.

"No matter Harry, you can call it sacrifice, you can call it fear of losing someone; it's not your decision to make. Especially now with Scrimgeour's death."

Hermione spoke louder than usual for all eyes turned towards her. She did not expect to be the bearer of bad news.

"The Minister of Magic is dead?" shouted Ron.

"Not so loud."

Everyone looked in their direction. Coming directly from the house, an assortment of strange individuals walked into the backyard right under the horrified eyes of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Lupin, Tonks, Professor Gauthierseen and the Shecks twins silently signalled everyone to gather around them.

"We need to be discreet." Lupin's guttural voice only surprised the Dursleys who felt as outsiders in their own domain.

"Scrimgeour is dead but I'm afraid it's much worse. He was killed while having a private meeting with the prime ministers of England, France and the United States. Hermione and Harry were right, Muggles are not safe anymore."

Questions flew from all sides but it was Petunia who silenced everyone with a scream when she saw the car of the social worker. Alice efficiently took control and ordered Lupin and the Shecks twins to hide in the house since they could hardly pass for normal human beings. The three other sisters quickly joined Tonks and Professor Gauthierseen to inform them about Petunia's plan.

The social worker walked into backyard and was welcomed by Hermione sincePetunia Dursley was too petrified to move. The wizards used all the charm they could master and in no time had the social worker eat in the palms of their hands. Fabricating crafted lies, mostly done through occlumency, the social worker discoveredhoweach person present was working on some personal grand humanist cause.

Things nearly got out of hand when Professor Gauthierseen, showing more than a simple interest for the exciting Muggle, invited the social worker to dine with him later in a little restaurant on the far side of the moon.

"My dear Gauthierseen," said Tonks, rushing, "you are incorrigible. I am sure everyone knows the famous restaurant is not on the far side of the Moon but on the exposed side."

The social worker, Tonks and Gauthierseen laughed. Time was melting too fast for Harry's taste who managed to put on a good performance for the social worker but understood how dangerous her being here was.

Finally, Dudley and his social worker had a long private chat, which they ended smiling. The social worker bid everyone farewell after remarking to Petunia and Vernon how lucky Dudley was to be surrounded by such amazing people.

Everyone held his or her breath until the social worker drove away. Lupin and the Shecks twins came out of the house, white as ghosts.

"It's almost six," whispered Lupin.

Harry's scar hurt. It hurt so much, he screamed and fainted. Lupin caught him and held his arms so he would not scratch himself to death

Absolute silence engulfed the crowd who instinctively surrounded Harry as if they were a shield. Petunia and Vernon Dursley held Dudley in their arms. The back door had been left open; the grandfather clock chimed six long rings.

The air got heavier and the skies darker. On the sixth ring, an unearthly sound came rolling in. A massive earthquake followed. From the east, a gigantic crevasse ripped the ground apart, moving towards them with great speed. Trees fell in, houses crumbled and disappeared.

The catastrophe was happening so fast and on such scaleno one thought of running away. The crevasse hit the backyard and stopped as if it hit a wall of iron. The resulting bang was as loud as if a hundred supersonic planes simultaneously broke the sound barrier.

A form rose from the crevasse. Voldemort was bleeding from his head, as was Harry. The monster tried stepping into the backyard but each time, he hit an invisible wall. He violently punched and kicked but all he broke was his wrist.

Voldemort, out of breath, stopped and stared at Harry. He screamed to the skies and burned as he was made of lava. He looked one last time at Harry before disappearing into the earth.

Alarms of cars and houses screamed from all around. The earthquake was over. Gauthierseen separated himself from the group and walked where the crevasse had ended. The giant incandescent hole had already cooled down.

For some reason none could explain, the protection spell held on even though Harry was now seventeen.

Chapter 7

in Harry's past

Along with thousands of onlookers, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville and Luna toured downtown London the following day. The earthquake left a gigantic fault that started near the shores of the North Sea and ended at four Privet Drive. The Dursleys were now famous; journalists, scientists and police invaded their property.

Harry escaped after seeing the livid faces of his aunt and uncle. He went to Hermione's where they spent they evening glued to the television, hopinghis name would not come up. Fortunately, uncle Vernon took all the credit of saving everyone in his backyard. He explained how he rushed children and adults into his house. Dudley too joyfully made a hero of himself but Petunia simply said yes and to any journalist's questions.

Many of London's landmarks had disappeared into the earth. According to a civil engineer giving an interview, the shockwavethatfractured the Tube, reverberated like shattered glass: the destruction will take months to repair, if not years.

London was in shock,magical apparitions were taken place everywhere but nobody cared; the Ministry of Magic was unable to cope anymore. With the help of the Shecks twins who conjured a porthole out the portrait gallery at Hermione's house into London's National gallery, Harry and his friends took advantage of their own private public transport.

The area surrounding Charring Cross Station was hard to describe; the most severe aftershocks were concentrated here. As they walked, they passed so many destroyed buildings and saw so many men, women and children in the street that Hermione could not help remember old pictures she had seen of the 1940 blitz. Hermione explained briefly what the Second World War was and tried to give an accurate picture of London burning.

"It must be hard for the old people."

Luna's comment touched Hermione. Neville pointed to two elderly men crying, obviously reminiscing If everyone around them were looking at destroyed churches and caved in Tube lines, Harry's group had their eyes fixed on the spot where the Witch Brew once was. Nearly every pieces of the shop was gone, if not for a wall still hanging for his life.

They had hopedUshia would eventually show up but after waiting for an hour, they gave up and headed back to the café, which miraculously was still there.

"This shop was our best lead in finding Horcruxes," whispered Harry, sitting down at an empty table.

"I don't think so," replied her Hermione, "there was nothing magical there. Besides, the locket, the cup or Nagini are so filled with magicany good wizard within ten miles would pick up on their energy."

"What are you talking about?" asked Neville.

"What locket and how is Nagini?" Luna said.

Harry waited a long time before answering since he did not want to offend his friends but needed them to understand that not everyone was supposed to know everything. As his mouth kept opening and closing trying to find the right words, Luna came to his rescue.

"Maybe you don't want us to know. It would be all right Harry."

"Don't feel obliged to tell us anything Harry," added Neville. "If you feelthatsome things are better kept secret then don't say a word. Even if Hermione and Ron know, Luna and I don't have to."

Harry felt so privileged to have such friends. Hermione and Ron remained silent, wanting Harry to decide about what should be known and by whom.

"Well yes," Harry said. "It's better this way. Mad-Eye Moody died trying to stop me from talking about Horcruxes."

"What's a Horcruxe?"

Neville's comment reverberated around the table; Harry was getting deeper into trouble.

"I don't know either," added Luna, "but I'm sure it is evil and from the look on your face, I'd rather not find out."

"But what about the dices?" said Ron, wanting to change the topic.

Harry took his hand out of his pocket and emptied the content over the table. The waitress showed up with coffee and cakes and was surprised by a big "DON'T" from the group as she tried to move the dices to make some space. Harry grabbed the smallest of them, turned it around and read his name aloud; "Harry Potter…"

"Did you get anything out of Ushia about the dices?" Hermione asked Luna.

"Yes, she told me her uncle gave them to her. When I saw the name under the counter I told her that a professor of mine had the same last name. She told me her uncle was named Snape;it was he who introduced her to magic. I mean Muggle magic."

"It still doesn't tell us why Snape gave her the dices" Hermione said frustrated.

"Hermione, calm down," said Ron.

The relationship between Hermione and Ron was evolving from one day to the next. Ron gained assurance, he who only last year had to use sarcasm when wanting to say something displeasing to Hermione. Hermione took notice as well and breathed deeply before encouraging by a smile Luna to go on.

"I told her I was having private lessons with Snape. She was so impressed she decided she opened up. Apparently Snape gave her the dices on the condition thatif a Harry Potter showed up, she was to hand them tohim."

Harry played with the dices, turning them around, feeling their weight, their softness, but could not decipher what they really were.

"Maybe they're poisonous." Ron's comment startled Harry who dropped the dices on the table.

"If they were poisoned, we'd all be dead by now," said Neville.

They ate their cakes and biscuits. Hermione and Ron had a lot of things to clear up but did not want to do it in front of Luna and Neville. The food was quite good, consideringthatless than one thousand feet away, there was a two hundred feet deep rift.

Neville ate every bit of food in his plate with such pleasureHermione forgot how lucky she was to have tasted all, or at least most, of what both worlds had to offer. Ron gulped his cappuccino so fastHermione thought of performing the Hemlick when he choked for at twenty long seconds. Ron finally regained some composure and proposed a safe topic.

"Did any of you receive his letter from Hogwarts?"

"Yes I did," answered Neville.

"What letter?" questioned Harry.

"The new school year," said Ron. "Professor McGonagall is the new headmistress."

"Hogwarts will receive students in September?" screamed Harry with contempt.

"Calm down Harry," Hermione cut in. "It's a good thing. I betmost of the students will be back. Didn't you get yours?"

"Obviously not! Anyhow, it's all the same to me since I'm not going back."

"Don't saythatHarry," Ron said. "For all we know, the deed could be completed before September."

Ron was referring to the Horcruxes. Harry was so frustrated of not having received his letterhe dropped his cake on the table and sank back into his seat.

"I did not receive mine either," said Luna. "Not all letters are sent at the same time."

"Of course," said Hermione to Harry. "Your letter will probably be waiting for you at the Dursleys."

"I guess," mumbled Harry. "But like I said, I am not going back."

"Listen mate," said Ron with an ounce of vocal pressure. "I think you should come back. We don't know how McGonagall is going to run the show and she may not be as easy-going as Dumbledore."

"Ron is right," reinforced Hermione. "You should check with Petunia if you got your letter, or if not I can go myself."

London's human jungle had at lone representative from each species in the café. Luna and Neville kept saying things like "look at this one" while staring at a Punk, a Barbie or a Rapper. Hermione explained the ups and downs of each specific race under the smiling eyes of Harry. The atmosphere cooled, it was time for Hermione to remind Harryhe was still leader of the group.

"What do you want to do Harry?" asked Hermione which such seriousnessHarry took time before answering.

"I'm going back to Godric's Hollow."

"You want any of us to come along?" said Ron.

"Yes, but not today. I'll send for you and Hermione soon."

While Hermione and Ron agreed from the head, Luna and Neville felt left out but had the courtesy not to put their emotions on the table. Thankfully, Harry was not done.

"Luna. You need to find if Ushia is still alive. Hermione can help you with computer stuff but I want you to be a go-between."

"I will," replied Luna dispassionately though Hermione picked up a twitch of pride from Luna's left earlobe.

"Neville, you hold on to the dices. Since all the teachers at Hogwarts like you, you will contact whoever can help you figure out what they are. You cannot show the one with my name on it, only the others. Hermione and Ron will tell you which teacher is a member of the Order of the Phoenix: I don't want you to talk to any of them."

Hermione and Ron's expressions were harsh. Hermione went as far as thinkingHarry lost track of who is real friends were. Harry did not wait for either of them to intervene and explained himself straight away.

"We knowVoldemort's Death Eaters are trying to infiltrate the Order. I don't think Neville can simply barge into a meeting and hope to accomplish anything."

Turning to Neville, Harry continued.

"Like I said, ask professors at Hogwarts. Don't say too much; pretend it's some kind of heirloomgiven to you by your grandmother and you want to know how old they are."

Everyone agreed with a nod from the head. Harry stood up, grabbed his cup of coffee and waited for the others to do the same. Though the café was packed with strangers, the chaos left by the earthquake had everyone being uninterested by anyone else but themselves; the toast, even if it was made public, went unnoticed.

"To the DA," said Harry with pride.

"To the DA," repeated the others, hitting their coffees with as much noise as possible.

The trip to Godric's Hollow was not as uneventful as Harry would have liked it to be. He left from Hermione's house hoping to use the porthole created by the Shecks twins but was advised against it since bad weather would interfere. Of course, he did not have his broom and had to borrow Hermione's. Notthatit mattered but brooms made for girls were hard to control for boys giventhatthey were balanced for less weight and less height.

The rain did its best to freeze him and the wind kept pushing him off but thanks to his Quidditch talents, they were no match for him. About an hour later, he descended on Godric's Hollow's cemetery since it was empty of humans.

He took out his wand, aimed it at the broom and whispered; "leglio". Hermione's broom reduced to the point it could fit in a pocket of his robe. Harry checked if his invisibility cloak and satisfied made his way towards his parent's house. He had planned to first look for his parent's grave but the bad weather forced him to do otherwise.

Eyes peered through opened curtains in the houses he passed on Main Street. Godric's Hollow, the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor, was almost as magical as Hogsmeade. It was unlikelythatMuggles living here were unaware of the magical ancestry of their town. Town folks did not come out of their houses to check who he was for they must have seen thousands wizards walk down their streets.

He reached the front gate of his parent's last stand. The house was imposing, magnificent. Strangely, he did not feel a sense of belonging but rather of estrangement. He simply brushed off the uneasiness and walked to the front door. It was unlocked.

"Of course," said Harry out loud.

The first floor hid a collection of large rooms, empty of furniture. Maybe a small picture frame on a wall here or a broken chandelier there but not much else. Godric's Gryffindor artefacts were well known and sought of: anything of value was long gone.

"Remember."

Harry turned around to see who had just spoken but the living room was empty. He froze, hoping to catch any suspicious sounds but the house was dead silent.

"Hello..."

Harry waited for a response but all he heard was the echo travelling from one room to room. He realized there no echo followed the voice and blamed his fear of being alone in this big house for creating words out of thin air. Harry continued inspecting the grounds.

At the bottom of the staircase leading to the second floor, he heard the voice again but this time saw something move along the railings up above. He did not rush to the second floor, making surethe voice did not come from his head. He distinctly perceived a faint echo dying on the wall next to him; he rushed up the stairs.

The overwhelming darkness was quickly defeated with a simple illuminato spell. The bright light exposed every door, corridor and window within sight. He was unsure if the voice came from a resident ghost or shadowy visitor. He decided to persist exploring the house but at a slower pace.

More doors that led to more empty rooms. As he turned towards the last corridor leading to the back of the house, he saw the shadowy figure stand at the end of it, in front of a window.

"Remember," whispered the silhouette.

Harry directly aimed his wand at the shadow but could not see a face: it disappeared into a room to its right. Harry hurried over and found himself in a strange space furnished with desks, old lamps, a large bed and a set of woven chairs.

Harry consideredthe light coming from his wand scared the shadow and decided to let the room go dark. Motionless like a werewolf preying in the woods, Harry waited for the voice to manifest itself.

Something moved behind him. He slowly raised his wand and swiftly turned around to face the figure. There, in front of him, stood Alice, Jessy, Mona and Josephine, mouths opened, scared that Harry would use his magic on them.

"Harry," said Alice in a trembling voice. "It's me, your great-aunt Alice. Surely you remember my sisters and I!"

Harry had been deceived so often he kept his wand up and his eyes glued on each woman.

"Young man," shouted Jessy, walking towards him like a bull in an arena. "If you don't putthatwand down straight away I'll put you on my knees and spank you."

"Sorry. I thought you were the ghost," said Harry.

"They are no ghosts here Harry," murmured Josephine.

"Well there was someone who kept telling me to remember."

"Remember!" repeated Mona. "Remember what?"

"I don't know. I just saw someone or something telling me –remember- then vanished."

"Let's get out of here," Alice proposed. "This house is impossible to illuminate since they cut the electricity."

"Electricity!" said Harry incredulously.

"Godric's Hollow is a real place Harry," Mona said. "It had a substantial wizard population years ago, but not anymore. Everyone living here is human, and we poor humans need electricity."

"What do you mean humans! You guys aren't witches?"

"Of course not, what ever gave you that idea?" yelled Jessy.

"Common mistake," Josephine said calmly. "We will explain everything. Nut about this house, no one has lived in this house since the attack on your parents. The neighbours got tired of seeing lights flicker through windows and the fear of electrical fires forced the mayor to cut power lines around the property."

Following his great-aunt Alice who led the way into a fairly sized house in the back of Gryffindor's, Harry found himself in a warm and comfy kitchen. The sisters, drunk with happiness of having a family remember to take care, proposed tea, coffee, juice, cakes and biscuits to Harry who felt besieged.

"Please," shouted Harry. "I don't need anything else; tea is fine. I am not really hungry. I would really like is to hear more about you. Why are you living here in Godric's Hollow?"

"Well we'd better start at the beginning," Alice said, sitting down along with her sisters. "Your grandfather Evans was our brother. He was the eldest of the family, a road master. He travelled all over. One day, after having been away for a month, he showed up accompanied by a very cute young woman he had met and married in London. This caused a scandal in Godric's Hollow sine our brother was forty-five years old and his wife, your grandmother, was only eighteen."

"Rest assure,none of us was offended." Jessy's stoic tone almost made Harry laughed. "Your grandmother stepped one foot in our houseandwe already liked her. She was a sweet and wonderful child. She was an orphan who had never known any family."

"Enough with the details," said Alice. "Harry does not need to know everything. There are more important issues to discuss."

Turning to Harry, Alice gathered her thoughts and continued. "Within three years of your grandmother's arrival, Lily and Petunia were born. Needless to say, these two girls were a godsend."

Alice's words were like a soothing ointment on Harry's bruised soul. He did not want to interrupt and silenced all the questions racing in his mind. He simply smiled to each of them, hopingmore was to come. Mona did not disappoint him.

"Lily's magical capabilities started to show when she was just ten years old. Not that they were natural, but she learned them from books in the attic. You see Harry there had never been any wizards in our family. We've always been normal human beings. We've known about the existence of magic since our childhood. Our family was in the service of the Gryffindors for many generations, until the 1960sthatis, when Godric's Hollow fell out of fashion and the last wizard occupying the house moved away."

"I remember how excited your grandfather was when he realizedLily was able to do magic," Jessy said. "Your grandmother was terrified. After all magic was new to her."

"As far as Petunia was concerned," added Alice sadly, "magic never manifested. Petunia was heartbroken every time she saw Lily perform unbelievable tricks. There are no definite explanations for Lily's talents; Hogwarts' headmaster at the time saidthat because she was raised next to a house with as much magical history as a Gryffindor's, some dormant magical gene woke up."

"I thought my mother was one hundred percent Muggle," said Harry who immediately regretted not using the word human.

"Don't worry about it," laughed Josephine. "We used Muggle all the time. It's kind of a funny local expression. Everyone in Godric's Hollow is aware of the difference between Muggles and wizards. As far as your mother is concerned, she was one hundred percent Muggle. None of our ancestors were wizards."

"Well,thatwe know of anyway," pointed out Mona.

"Anyhow," Alice said, "Lily could do magic and Petunia couldn't. Lily was immediately accepted at Hogwarts' and became one of its best students. Petunia also tried to enter Hogwarts when she was twelve years old but..."

The women sighed in silence since none had the heart to go on. Harry deduced some tragic event must have happened and pleaded for more details. Josephine took over.

"Petunia never said a word of what happened. Nothing was ever the same after that, she kept to herself and couldn't wait to get out of Godric's Hollow. She must have failed badly and felt rejected like never before: everyone at Hogwarts expected Lily's sister to be something more than a simple Muggle."

"Your mother and her sister hardly spoke after that," Mona said.

The mood around the table was grim. The riftmagic caused between his mother and his aunt left much deeper scars than Harry would have believed. He waited for each woman to take sips of their tea before changing the topic.

"Why did my parents come back to this house to fight Voldemort?"

Harry was pleased to seehis great-aunts did not suffer any gut reaction hearing the word Voldemort. In fact, the mood changed from grim to anger. Each sister had something to say but Jessy was the loudest.

"Godric Gryffindor's house is sacred ground! Especially for a descendent like your father was. Lily and James were respected Aurores. Tales of their successes against the wizards practicing the dark arts were told over and over. Sadly, your father became obsessed with Voldemort. It became a difficult situation for your mother when pregnant. Although she did not stop James, Lily got really scared once you were born. They had a fight and Lily took you and came to live with us."

"That is not to sayyour mother was a coward," Josephine said. "In fact, your father was not mad at your mother, he agreedit was best for your sake. The funny thing wasPetunia. She just gave birth to Dudley and reconnected with Lily. Petunia was furious with James for continuing the fight. "

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

"Well, no matter what we tried to find out what James was up to, Lily only gave details to Petunia," Mona said. "It all went so fast. Next thing we knew, you were on the sofa in Gryffindor's living room and your parents… well, you know the rest."

"I thought my mother stayed with you over here," said Harry.

"One night," Josephine went on, "your father Lily to meet him at Gryffindor. James and Lily had been apart for a while and we thought it best to leave them alone.'

"I was awakened by screams," Alice cut in. "Your grand father was long dead by then and your grandmother was so sick with worries she ordered me to go see. I rushed over and found your father dead on the porch and your mother at the bottom of the stairs. I heard you cry and took you from the living room and rushed over here."

"We don't know what happened," Jessy said, "it was strange to find you on the sofa in the living room while your mother lay at the bottom of the stairs."

"Why strange?" questioned Harry.

"Somehow, your mother was killed far from you," Josephine explained. "According to Dumbledore, your mother used some very ancient form of magic where she sacrificed herself soyou would live. Whatever she did, it continued after her death. There was a ring of fire on the floor where Voldemort stood in the living room."

"We have gone over the events ofthatnight, time and time again, but we cannot figure it out," said Alice. "It must not be important since Dumbledore told us to forget about it, what was important was to take care of you. We consorted one another and feltit was too dangerous to keep you with us. Voldemort knewwe were your great-aunts but no one knewPetunia and Lily were on speaking terms When Dumbledore showed up the next morning, he found you in a basket on the porch. We had disappeared."

"Why did you?" questioned Harry.

"We were scaredthatdark wizards were still in town," whispered Mona as if they were under surveillance. "We knewthese wizards were on our tails so we forced them to follow us. This allowed Dumbledore to secretly find you and sent you to Petunia."

"Still," Alice thought aloud, "I would like to know what happened the night your parents died. The only one who could tell us is now dead: Dumbledore."

The rest of the evening was spent reminiscing. Harry heard wonderful stories about his mother and father along with photographs he did not know existed. He was ever so gratefulhe did not ask any more questions about the night of his parent's death and allowed himself to be taken in a sea of happy memories.

Around midnight, Harry went to bed. He did not have the heart to tell these womenhe was a grown man and did not need to be put to bed like a small child. The pleasurehis great-aunts took in preparing the bed, changing the air in the room, making sure a fire was cracking in the chimney, all minute gesturesHarry accepted with humbleness.

Once alone, Harry got out of bed and stood in front of the window overlooking Godric Gryffindor's. The massive mansion was sleeping but Harry sensedsomeone was roaming its corridors. He was just about to close the curtain when he caught a shadow on the side of the house. The night was too dark and the house too far from street lamps to make out what the form was. One thing was sure; the shadow waved at him.

Harry put on his clothes and went back. He toured Gryffindor's grounds without finding any footsteps or signsanyone had been standing there. Come to think of it, Harry did not see the figure walk but rather float. He was about to go into the house when he heard it again; "remember."

Harry turned towards the street: the shadow was moving away. He ran after it but the figure flew too fast. He ended up in the cemetery again where the figure had entered. Harry created some light from his wand but kept the intensity low; last thing he wanted was for neighbours to come see what was going on in their cemetery.

Harry looked at the tombstones and stopped in front of a white marble one: deeply carved in the stone were the names James and Lily Potter. Harry knelt down and touched it with respect and sorrow. He had learned so much about his parents within the last hours,ending up here at their grave seemed the logical conclusion.

Though the rain and the wind had stopped, the freezing air was moving in with a vengeance. This weather was strange for it seemed to be a local phenomena, the rest of England was under a heat wave.

He proceeded further into the seminary where he thought he saw some shimmering light. Next to a wall, surrounded by old broken down tombstones, Harry discovered two separate graves: one for his grandfather and one for his grandmother.

He was instinctively drawn to his grandmother's and was surprised to find it glowing somehow. He tried to touch it but his hand went through as if the stone wasn't there.

"A Portkey!" whispered Harry.

The shadow must have disappeared through there, Harry thought. He put his head through and discovered that it led directly into a courtyard of Hogwarts.

Harry would have spied a bit longer had he not been pulled back by the neck. Falling on the ground of the cemetery, Harry looked up and saw an old man looking at him with inquisitive eyes.

"What are you doing there?"

"I'm visiting my grandparent's graves," replied Harry, getting back on his feet. The old man shrugged his shoulders and walked away into a little house next to the church. Harry decided to go back to his aunts since investigating the Portkey so late was not the best thing to do right now.

As he passed Gryffindor's house, he saw a tiny speck of light coming from a window on the second floor. The bed waiting for him at the Evans would have to wait. He opened the unlock door, rushed up the stairs and ended up in a very tiny room. There, on the floor, Harry picked up a tiny silver dice through which green light was emanating.

"R.A.B," said Harry aloud, having difficulty believing what he was reading. On each side of the dice, the initials R.A.B were inscribed.

Suddenly, Harry fell to the ground; a roaring noise in the distance was moving towards him. As the sound grew louder, the house quivered increasingly. He made his way down the stairs but did not have time to escape.

A terribly loud explosion followed and Harry Potter found himself crushed by Gryffindor's house. The village of Godric's Hollow was being bombarded.

Chapter 8

not in a hospital again

Harry heard strange noises. He could not see since something was covering his eyes. There was a definite smell roaming the air but he did not know what it was. One thing was sure; he was in a bed in some kind of traction: he could hardly move.

He felt a hand touch his forehead and another delicately squeeze his wrist. Although he could hear a voice talking, he was so groggyhe could not tell to whom it belonged. He had been in and out of consciousness so oftenhe lost all sense of time. Once more, he fainted.

He awoke again, but this time with a clearer head. There was a lot of activity around him. He must be in St.Mungo he thought. Another visit to the hospital enraged him; it seemedall he could do with his life was to be cared for in a hospital.

Hands moved his head; the tension he had been suffering around his skull was easier to endure. Finally, his bandages came off.

"Turn down the blinds. He won't be able to handle so much bright light." Hermione's voice was like cold water in the desert for Harry. His best friend, the ever-faithful Hermione, was doing what she did best: be at the right place, at the right time and give the correct order. Hermione sat next to him and held his hand.

"You've been badly hurt Harry. You need to stay put."

"And don't worry if everything is dark when you open your eyes. It will only be temporary."

Harry was surprised to hear a man's voice in St.Mungo; he thought only witches were allowed to train for higher magical healing. The last bandage came off and he felt cool air caress his eyelids. Opening his eyes, he panicked when all he could see were blurry shadows. He could hardly see Hermione sitting on his right. He tried to stand up but Hermione stopped him.

"It's normal," said the man. "Your eyes will start to adapt at any moment now; just be patient."

Ten seconds later, Harry recognized Hermione's father. He was wearing a white coat and had some strange instrument around his neck. Hermione's expression told him all he needed to know: he was alive and she was ecstatic.

"What happened?" said Harry.

Neither Hermione neither her father understood what he said. His neck was so tightly encased in a collarhe could not move his jaw. Mr. Granger told the nurse to release the screws closest to Harry's ears, permitting him to speak, but not much else.

"What happened?" Harry repeated.

"You don't remember?" questioned Hermione.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to recall recent events. Details regarding his visit to Godric's Hollow resurfaced, bringing with them extreme anxiety.

"OK Harry. Calm down. You are safe. I just wanted to see if you could remember."

"That's a very good sign Harry," said the doctor. "I was afraid you suffered some brain damage. Obviously, your memory seems to be intact."

Feelinga private conversation needed to take place; Hermione's father turned to the nurse and said; "that will be all, thank you." The nurse smiled at Harry and walked out of the room. Hermione's father followed her, closed the door, but remained inside impatient to know how much danger his daughter was in.

"The house… there was an explosion… everything came down on me…" mumbled Harry.

"There was more than one explosion, Harry," Hermione said. "Godric's Hollow was bombarded last week."

"Bombarded? Last week!" Harry could hardly believe it.

"You've been here for six days," Hermione's father explained. "Thankfully, the bombs weren't dropped all at once. The residents had time to escape after they saw what happened to the house you were in."

Mr. Granger continued with as few details as possible to soften the blow; he feltHarry's condition was too unstable.

"We're caught in some civil war. Some terrorist group apparently dropped the bombs. The authorities are working on it."

"Terrorists?" Harry said.

"It's awful," murmured Hermione, knowing better than to protect Harry from the truth like her father was trying to. "They are small armies fighting private wars. Usually, terrorists work behind a well-organized group and they rarely attack… but not anymore. It's pure hate. Some terrorists fight to eliminate other races, others want to get rid of whoever does not share their religion…"

"I even heard of a group in South America who has bombarded a village because they did not believe in extra terrestrials," Hermione's father added.

Harry kept looking straight ahead, as more information was pouring in. His fears were justified; humans were at war with one another and he knew who the culprit was. He waited for a silence and bleakly said; "Voldemort."

Hermione took Harry's hand and confirmedthatshe shared his views by simply saying; "Voldemort."

Harry felt such ragehe tore the sheets on his bed as grabbing them. He was remembering the pain inflicted on him and Gryffindor's house when some horrible image came to his mind.

"My aunts!" screamed Harry, sitting straight up in his bed.

"They're fine," said Hermione. "Let me tell you, these women are more stubborn than Dolores Humbridge. They literally had to be removed by force because they wanted to keep digging. The police were toldGryffindor's house had been abandoned for years and they did not want anyone to stay behind. Your great-aunts were taken away kicking and screaming."

"So, how did I get out?"

"We heard about the attack on Godric's Hollow on the news. The Shecks twins went over there and freed you with some spell but since there were too many people around, they could not carry you back with an apparition spell. They made sure you were discovered near the rubbles and apparated back in my house."

Hermione's explanations were too succinct for Harry who wanted to ask for more details but was cut off by Hermione's father.

"You were very lucky. I have no idea how you survived. The twins told usyou were stuck right in the middle of the rumbles, at the bottom of the stairs."

"…the spell…" whispered Harry to himself, as if he was alone in the room.

"What?" Hermione said.

"Something one of my great-aunt said about the night my parents were killed. My mom was found at the bottom of the stairs and I was in another room. They can't explain how I was protected so far from my mother unless the spell remained after my mother was dead…."

Hermione's inquisitive eyes wanted all the facts right now but Harry indicated that he would do it later; more questions were hurrying down his mind to his mouth.

"Why am I here?"

"Because you were badly hurt," replied Hermione's father.

"Sorry. I mean here, in this hospital instead of St.Mungo."

"Because the Ministry of Magic sealed all entries. We cannot get in the Wizarding world," answered Hermione.

"What?" shouted Harry.

"You should see Ron. He has been at my place for six days and has had no news from his family since. The twins and Ron tried every place they can think of. No Portkey; nothing. It's like the Wizarding community never existed."

"I have to go," said Hermione's father. "They are injured people coming in by the dozen. I will come back to check on you Harry."

Changing his smile to a grim and a severe expression, he turned to his daughter.

"Do not leave this room or attempt anything foolish. This goes for both of you. You are not out of the woods Harry. I need to monitor you closely for at least a month. Do not make me post guards outside your room."

Hermione and Harry tried to look at pitiful as they could, the doctor did not buy their act.

"This is not a joke. I mean it. DO NOT DO ANYTHING FOOLISH."

Hermione's father went over Hermione and kissed her. He grabbed Harry's shoulder and walked out. Hermione opened the curtains wanting to get rid of the dark and gloomy atmosphere. She came back to Harry's bed and waited for his instructions.

"Well, I'm the official hospital injured spokesperson for both worlds," Harry said with a wink.

"Oh Harry," mumbled Hermione, only to happy to chuckle.

"It's true; I think I should make a career of it."

Both friends laughed but Harry had to stop from the pain his ribs were causing. Hermione turned around to get a glass of water and when she turned back, she found Harry staring at the ceiling with his mouth open.

"Harry, what is it?" said Hermione.

"R.A.B," whispered Harry.

"What!"

"At Gryffindor's house, just before the bombs, I found a small silver dice covered with the inscription R.A.B."

"Oh yes, I almost forgot about R.A.B.," Hermione said, confused for a second.

"I haven't. I know what we have to do. Since we cannot fix what is going on in Muggle world, getting rid of Voldemort in the Wizarding world will probably bring back peace on earth."

"Wait a minute there saviour boy. Do you hear yourself? You will bring piece on earth!" retorted Hermione who found Harry's demagogue aspirations rather funny.

"Ok, not world peace but at least back to normal, whatever normal is."

"How do you plan to do this? In case you haven't noticed, you are still in bad shape. You can't move for at least a month."

"If only I was in St.Mungo. I'm sure they'd put me back in one day."

Ron walked through the door and rushed over to Harry with the biggest smile.

"Finally, I thought you'd never wake up. And by the way, don't you have anything better to do than try all the hospital beds in the country?"

Harry felt so good; the pain his ribs did not deter him from laughing. His two best friends, his comrades in arms, were here with him; he knewthe impossible was possible.

"Well, you are going to help me because we are going back to Hogwarts." Turing to Hermione who was about to tell him again that they couldn't, Harry said; "Can we do magic or has the Ministry takenthataway as well?"

"I've been doing more magic than ever before," said Ron before Hermione could intervene. "The Shecks twins and I have been trying to create Portkeys anywhere and everywhere. We tried flying back with our brooms but every time we approach Wizarding world, we hit some kind of glass bubble."

"A force field," Hermione said.

"Call it what you want, I call it a glass bubble."

"All right then," said Harry, cheerfully. "I need one of you to reduce me soyou can carry me out of here and into one of your pocket."

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry and waited for an explanation. Harry, enjoying himself, waited a while, hopingone of them would guess his plan.

"Okay, I'll bite," said Hermione. "Why should we do that?"

"Because we are going back to Godric's Hollow. I found a Portkey!"

"And how are you planning to do this?" said Hermione with an almost comical voice.

"You will reduce me and put me in your pocket."

Harry's comments did not sit well with his friends. Even tough he kept a bright smile on his face, Hermione and Ron remained silent.

"All right then, here is the plan," Harry said, disappointed by how little sense of adventure his teammates had. "Since I have no idea where my cloak is and I'm too stuck to apparate myself out of here, you need to reduce me with whatever spell you want soI get out of here."

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Hermione said. "My father was not joking; you cannot move Harry. There may be something wrong with your spine. You need to stay in bed with all these tractions. Moving you could be fatal."

"Let's reduce everything then, Harry, the bed, all his stuff," Ron proposed with such genuinenessthatHermione elbowed him.

"Yes, of course!" said Harry. "You can doHermi?"

"It's not a matter of whether I can or not, butthatI should not and will not. Even if I did reduce you and your bed, you'd still be jerked around. There is no way we can immobilize you completely."

"Sure there is," retorted Ron. "With the spell my mom used on Harry. It puts you into a half-life state, like a rock or something. My mom did it lots of times on anything dangerous approaching the house."

"Of course," replied Harry, "it's perfect."

"You are both forgettingthatthese half-life spells are illegal…"

Hermione struck a nerve with Ron who did not appreciate anyone suggesting his mother could do something illegal. Harry fearedphysical violence was about to break out when Hermione turned to Ron and explained herself.

"I am not saying your mother is evil Ron! C'mon, you know that. She did what she had to do in the basement. Illegal spells are not always bad, she proved it. My point isthatwe should be careful doing allthatmagic here. It's one thing to do simple spells; it's another to use illegal ones."

Ron's face returned to its normal pink so fastHarry could tell he felt awful about his lack of confidence in Hermione. Harry came up with more arguments but Hermione would hear none of them. Then, Ron tipped the balance of power.

Ron's persona had changed: his demeanour was more serious and somehow more decisive. Hermione had been Harry's first council, often taking the lead while Ron was acting as a third party, funny and dependable, but not much else.

"This is getting us nowhere. Harry is right: we need to get him out of here fast. We knowhe's the only one who can defeat Voldemort. Illegal or legal is not important Hermione. You need to stop second-guessing everything Harry does. I know you are right in what you say but being right is irrelevant now. Harry needs to get out and you and I will help."

Hermione lowered her face defeated but Ron tenderly grabbed her right hand:the bond uniting them was unbreakable.

"You will use the best spell you knowto reduceHarry and his bed, and I will use the freezing curse. This way, if one of us gets in trouble, it will be me."

"I never meantthatRon,' replied Hermione heart broken.

"I know. Don't worry; I'm getting pretty good at getting away from bad situations. Ok, I'll go first."

Ron took out his wand, raised it with grace and infinite simplicity, pointed it at Harry and said; "glacio suspendo."

Harry stopped moving and transformed into an icy statue. Hermione raised her wand and said; "condenso intio."

The spell worked but only on objects surrounding Harry. Ron's spell was too strong for hers. Hermione immediately stopped the reducing and reversed it before any damage was done.

"What are we going to do?" asked Hermione.

Ron raised his wand and unfroze Harry who was disappointed to find himself still in the hospital room.

'What happened?"

'We cannot freeze you and reduce you."

'Maybe…" Ron said, thinking aloud, "but maybe we can reduce you then freeze you."

Hermione had millions of objections running through her mind but she ignored them and redid the spell. Harry and his accoutrement reduced until it could fit in a pocket. Kneeling down on the floor, Hermione asked Harry if he was all right. His voice was too faint to be heard so he smiled and said yes with his head.

Ron knelt down and put his wand as close as possible without touching Harry. The intensity of the voice being a crucial element, Ron refrained from using words and mentally thought them. Hermione conjured a magnifying glass sothey could verify their friend was now a small bibelot.

Ron put Harry in his pocket and let Hermione lead the way out of the hospital. What they saw stunned them: people of all ages littering the corridors with severe injuries while staff was running around as if it was the end of the world. Hermione got close to Ron who enveloped her with one arm. They were three feet away from the exit door when they were stopped.

"Where do you think you are going?" said Hermione's father.

"We need to go Mister Granger," replied Ron. "If there is any chance of ending this, it will be because of Harry."

"Don't tell me you have…"

"Yes," Hermione cut in, knowing what her father was about to say. "We used a freezing spell, Harry is completely immobilized. We need to take him to St.Mungo; the wizards over there can help him with magic. Letting him stay here for a month would be suicidal… for all of us."

A young woman walked through the emergency doors carrying a small child covered with blood and shards. Hermione's father took the child in his arms and walked towards the operation room. Just before disappearing behind the glass doors, he stopped and looked at his daughter.

Hermione had tears rolling down her face. Mr. Granger whispered; "I love you." He wanted to say be careful, or do what parents do when their child is in danger, but it was in vain. Coming from a long line of enlightened aristocrats, he knew better then anyone elsethe weakest came first and right now, this meant the child in his arms. Controlling his fear of never again seeing Hermione, he painted a clinical attitude on his face and disappeared.

Hermione was not fooled: she closed her eyes at the pain she was causing her father. "What if I never see…"

"Don't even say it," murmured Ron firmly. "I plan to tell your parents all the misery you put me through the last six years. And boy, do I have a lot to say."

Hermione turned to Ron; she felt safer than she had in a long time. She kissed him. The embrace was short since an ambulance nearly blew the front doors open and medics pushed two stretchers into the emergency, knocking the two lovers off their feet.

Ron took Hermione's hand and walked out. Hermione grabbed her cell phone and was about to call her chauffeur when a car honked at them from the parking lot. Hermione and Ron did not move, thinkingthe honking was intended for someone else. When the headlights started to flash, they carefully walked over.

Hermione's laugh put Ron's fears to rest. He may have been suffering from pathetic ignorance as cars were concerned, but the car was covered with enough bizarre elements for him to understand Hermione's reaction.

"That's an old Westphalia," said Hermione.

"What ever it is, it is pink and it has flowers on it."

"That's because it's a Hippie-van. There were the symbol of freedom for anyone who had long hair in the 1960's and 70's."

The Westphalia had its curtains drawn. They decided to wait outside for whoever was trying to get their attention to manifest himself. Soon after, a side door opened and one of Harry's great-aunts yelled; "Well get in, quick!"

"Josephine…" said Hermione.

"Where are we going?" asked Ron.

"Godric's Hollow, of course!" Josephine said, as if asking the question was blatantly irrelevant.

"How did you know we wanted to go to Godric's Hollow?" said Hermione.

"Because if Harry is anything like his father, the first thing he would want to do is find out who tried to kill him."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other still unsatisfied with the explanation. Josephine's doggedness was quickly harmonized by similar orders from Mona, Jessy and Alice. The pleas were dangerously attracting the attention from onlookers.

Ron went in first, compellingly grabbing Hermione's hand so to not let her brain linger in "what if" and "maybe we should." Obeying was the hardest thing for Hermione who never subdued herself to impulsivity. She went along but promised herself to talk to Ron about his new dominant personality at a later time.

Jessy drove the Westphalia out of the airport as if it was a racing car. Hermione and Ron were so scaredthatfor the first twenty minutes of the trip, they kept their mouths shot and hands on whatever they could hold.

"There," said Alice with a deep sigh of relief as the van reached the highway." The rest of the trip should be less chaotic."

"Are you sayingI'm a chaotic driver?" yelled Jessy.

"Yes you are," Mona answered." But since you're the only one who can drive this awful thing, will have to do with you."

The Hippie-van had been set up sothe two seats in the back were facing one another. Josephine looked under her coat and retrieved a tin round box. She took off the lid and offered its contents to the young guests. Ron's eyes were as big as his belly; he did not have enough hands for all the incredibly tasty looking pastries. Hermione declined politely.

"Go ahead," said Alice to Hermione. "Josephine is an excellent cook. Notthatshe cares about anyone's health and you'll probably turn diabetic before we get to Godric's Hollow."

"Hush up," replied Josephine. "You've been stuffing yourself with sugar long before I was born. Not a day goes bythatyou don't have powdered sugar on your lips… and you're still alive! Way too alive as far as I'm concerned."

Hermione warmed up to the droll atmosphere and engulfed so much chocolate and fudgeMona laughed, Alice looked in the air with despair and Josephine got another tin box from under her seat.

"Where is Harry?" asked Jessy who felt neglected, all alone behind the wheel.

"What do you mean?" said Hermione, trying to swallow allthatwas in her mouth.

"We know Harry is with you. There is no way you would have left the hospital without him," Josephine pointed out.

"He's here," said Ron, touching his pocket.

Mona, Alice and Josephine looked at the pocket as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Mona bent down to speak to Harry but Hermione intervened.

"No, he cannot hear you. We had to freeze him sohe could handle the trip."

"I'm surprised your father let him out," Alice hinted.

"Well… we kind of hijacked his bed," said Ron, still stuffing his face. "He was too badly hurt for us to move him so we froze and reduced him and his bed. St.Mungo's witches will know what to do with him."

"Oh yes, St.Mungo's hospital," said Alice in awe. "I remember Harry's father spending at least one day a month there. The injuriesthatman suffered… We were always afraid for him. Lily would tell ushe'd broken every bone in his legs as if she had been talking about a plant she bought."

"That's because James's spending time at St.Mungo's was more of a nuisance than a threat," added Jessy. "Anyhow, I am sorry to seethe son is following in his father's footsteps."

"While we're on the topic of injuries," said Hermione, "Harry talked about what happened the night his parents were killed. He mentioned how strange it wasthathe was found away from his mother andthatyou thought the spell she used somehow continued after her death."

"Somehow continued!" Alice repeated wickedly. "Are you awareHarry was crushed by a three level house?"

"Yes," said Hermione embarrassed.

"How do you think he survived! He would be dead had he not been at the bottom of the stairs when it happened."

Alice's comments were starting to make sense for Hermione and Ron. Hermione was mute with admiration at the magical talents Harry's mother was capable of while Ron was just plain happymothers were mothers.

Jessy shoutedthatthey had arrived. She parked the van two miles from their destination: roadblocks were blocking every access to the village. They stepped out of the car and noticed that Godric's Hollow was intact, if not for three or four houses. News bulletin had obviously aggravated the destruction.

"Well, do something," Alice said, looking at the two wizards.

"Do what?" said Hermione.

"Desperate times, young lady…" whispered Jessy gravely, "desperate times..."

Ron did not need a full explanation of the subtext. He raised his wand and making giant circles in the direction of the police agents guarding the roadblock yelled; "morpheum tempus."

The guards slumbered but did not fall to the ground. They fell asleep on their feet. As they re-entered the van, Hermione turned to Ron and congratulated him with a simple; "Not bad."

"I got the idea fromthatmovie we saw at your house."

"What movie?"

"The one with the drawings. I don't remember how you call it."

"Oh yes, you mean Sleeping Beauty. It's called a cartoon, or animated."

As the van passed the guards, Hermione remembered the scene in Disney's Sleeping Beauty where the court fell asleep on their feet. She smiled, took Ron's hand and said; "really Ron, not bad at all."

Chapter 9

great ruins at Hogwarts

Godric's Hollow had become a ghost town: no one for miles except for a few soldiers patrolling the streets. Ron used a slumbering on all of them, getting a kick of seeing Hermione smile like a little girl each time a soldier poetically dozed off standing up.

The destruction of Gryffindor's old house was such that Hermione and Ron had to be told it used to be right in front of where they parked the Hippie-van. The explosion sent pieces of debris more than three miles away, into fields surrounding the town. The Evans' house, being right in the back, took heavy damage.

"Nothing to see over here," said Alice, pulling on Hermione's sleeve. "Let's go to my house, or what's left of it."

The Evans sisters had been fairly lucky, considering all their bedrooms were in the front of the house while the explosion only took out the back. Seeing the distraught in the eyes of the four women, Hermione wondered whether she should use magic and bring everything back to its former glory.

"Even I wouldn't attempt it," said Ron, having figured out what Hermione planned.

"I know, but the worst is how easy it is to do." Hermione remembered no less than tree spells that would do the trick.

"So far we've managed to do magic incognito. We know the Ministry won't send anyone after us but when the soldiers will wake up, they won't understand how a house that was nearly destroyed a day before could be intact the next morning."

"Ron is right," said Alice. "You don't need to fix anything Hermione. We appreciate the thought but let's not break all magic laws."

The young woman was pleased to see Harry's aunt made sure her moral compass was in working order. Besides, they did not come Godric's Hollow to repair broken houses but figure out where was the Portkey leading into Wizarding world. Hermione's expression suddenly changed. Ron thought; "here we go again."

"I can't believe how stupid we are," shouted Hermione. "And Harry's no better."

"Why?" said Ron like a well-trained machine.

"Harry had us freeze him before telling us where the Portkey was."

"Oh yes," whispered Ron, feeling dumbness fall upon his head.

"We're going to unfreeze him and ask him."

"We've froze him twice already. I don't think unfreezing him a third time in the same day is the safest thing to do."

Hermione gave Ron one of her meanest look; he was being too Hermionish for her taste. Six years she fought him over his tendency to act without thinking; Ron's new maturity was starting to annoy her.

"You…" shouted Hermione. "You dare tell me to be safe after all the stupid things you've done over the years! You think NOW is a good time to tell me that I should be safe!"

"Don't shout at me," said Ron. "You should be happy. Looks like I've been listening to you after all. Your party pooper attitude is brushing off on me."

"Party pooper!" screamed Hermione.

"Come on Hermione, you know I didn't mean that." Ron lowered his voice and put some sugar in his words. "I've been pretty reckless and I'm sorry if I've put you in danger. It's just that today, being more sensible like you've always been, seems to be the right thing to do."

"And pray tell, oh Lord of carefulness, why do you think unfreezing Harry would be dangerous?"

"No need to be sarcastic." Ron was close to losing his temper. "It's illegal magic, it's one of those spell my mom used as little as possible. Call it an intuition but I really think unfreezing Harry again is a very bad thing."

"All right, so, what do we do now?"

"Start with the cemetery," Mona said, passing close to them.

Hermione felt awful that she picked this moment to have an argument, in front of these women who did not need their loud quarrels. She pushed Ron to go and help Jessy and Josephine; the two women were trying to move heavy pieces of wood. She joined Mona in her search for unbroken heirlooms.

"Why the cemetery?" said Hermione, kneeling down in the grass.

"That's where Harry's parents are buried."

Hermione thought the idea sound and moved a wooden panel to help Mona grab some books trapped under. With care, Harry's great-aunt retrieved photo albums and inspected them. Satisfied, she turned to her right, having seen some glimmer peer through the rubbles. Hermione was about to lift another panel when Alice came out of the house holding a coat in her arms.

"No, no, no," shouted Alice to Hermione and Ron. "You have much better things to do. Don't stay here and help us, we'll be fine. Here!"

Alice handed Harry's robe to Hermione. Hermione looked in the pockets and found a dice, the invisibility cloak, the marauder map and a tiny broomstick.

"Looks like Harry was reducing as well," Hermione said.

"That must be the R.A.B dice," Ron pointed out.

Hermione agreed, showing the initials carved over each side. Alice insisted they left straight away and pushed them towards the street. Hermione and Ron waved to the other sisters, promising to be back with Harry.

The small village had only one church so finding the cemetery was the easy part. Night had fallen too fast; darkness was almost total since electricity had been cut. Ron looked around, making sure they were alone, and created some light from the tip of his wand. Hermione did the same. The cemetery was undamaged.

"Come here," said Hermione.

Ron miserably advanced, walking slowly and touching nothing. He joined Hermione in front of James and Lily Potter's tombstone. They inspected it and found nothing unnatural about it. Ron felt he had seen enough but Hermione kept on looking. She eventually ended up in the darkest corner of the graveyard. Ron's apprehension must have been blatant: Hermione had to come back and physically bring over.

"What's wrong?"

"It's stupid," mumbled Ron embarrassed. "I've never been in a graveyard before"

"What!"

"My mom never allowed it. She said they were bad places."

"Ron Weasley! This is a Muggle cemetery, not a wizard one. There is nothing to fear over here, trust me! Come on, I want to show you something."

Ron did not move so Hermione yanked his hand and dragged him through trees and lividly looking marble angels. Hermione increased the intensity of her light to help Ron conquer his fears. She stopped in front of two separate tombstones with the name Evans on it.

"This is strange," said Hermione.

"You think Harry's parents have been buried in two separate places?"

"No" said Hermione, laughing. "You really don't know a thing about Muggle cemeteries!"

Ron's dim-witted look did not warrant an answer from his part. Hermione pointed the light at the names and explained.

"It's customary for humans, married humans, to be buried in the same lot. If you look around, you'll see that families have one tombstone. It seems Harry's grandfather did not want to be buried with his wife. We should go back to the house and ask Harry's aunts why."

Ron failed to see how this fact was an important mystery that needed immediate solving. He approached the tombstone of Harry's grandmother and touched the inscription: he nearly fell in like Harry a week before.

"Ron," shouted Hermione pulling on his hand. "You found it. This must be the Portkey."

Ron put his head through and saw Hogwarts' courtyard. Three seconds later, the two wizards were walking back into Wizarding world. Before moving any further, Hermione turned around and made sure she remembered where the entrance into Muggle world was.

"I always wondered why that awful statue was built," said Hermione, standing next to a frightfully winged figure, towering a square shape pedestal.

"I thought it was for the aesthetically pleasing movement of its wings," said Ron.

"Aesthetically pleasing…" repeated Hermione ironically.

Ron started to laugh when Hermione grabbed his hand. Down the hill, where Hagrid's house once was, appeared a panorama of devastation: thousands of uprooted trees and gigantic craters littered the ground. Hermione was so surprised she could not move. Ron ran down the hill.

Hogwarts being the highest point of the region, Hermione contemplated the entire forest where magical creatures lived: it was spotted with black patches. The battle that took place here must have been cataclysmic.

In a dream state, Ron walked around the ruins of Hagrid's house, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The sheer size of the destruction had Ron wonder if only wizards were involved. Never had he heard of wizards possessing so much power. Realizing Hermione was not with him, he turned around and froze.

Hermione gathered from Ron's expression that something in the back of her was terrifying him. She did not notice anything wrong at first, but as she walked to her right, along the courtyard, she discovered that Hogwarts' east wing was gone. The sections of the old castle still standing were covered with holes like Gruyere cheese. Hermione jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder

"Ron!" shouted Hermione.

"I need to go home right now."

Hermione agreed; Ron needed to check with his family at once. They entered Hogwarts since Hogsmeade was on the other side. Hermione held Ron's hand firmly; her heart was pumping so hard the walls were reverberating. The silence was overpowering. The two wizards proceeded forward, without commenting on all the falling debris they had to climb over or the fact no resident ghost had come to scare them. The great doors leading out of Hogwarts were wide open but as soon as they got ten feet from them, they shut themselves.

Hermione and Ron turned back to back, wands out, ready to face any enemy. They could not see more than ten feet ahead so dark it was. Hermione found it hard to keep her cool but leaning against Ron, she felt she could do anything.

"Who's there?" shouted a voice far above their heads.

"Professor McGonagall!" whispered Hermione.

The Great Hall was suddenly illuminated by thousands of candles. Gracefully, Minerva McGonagall descended to the ground. The headmistress, who had been famous for keeping her decorum in the worst situations, could not control her joy and embraced them.

"My dear children," said Professor McGonagall, "we had no idea what happened to you."

"Who did this to Hogwarts?" said Hermione.

"And Hagrid?" continued Ron, "there's nothing left of his house."

"Yes, it was awful. I'll tell you all about it but first I need to know: is Harry all right?"

Ron smiled and put one hand in his pocket. He retrieved the small frozen figurine of Harry and his bed. Professor McGonagall needed to readjust her specs but did not jump for joy as Ron had hoped.

"What happened?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Harry was badly hurt. He was in Godric Gryffindor's house when it blew up. He's been in a hospital ever since. Human medicine was too slow to fix him so Harry wanted to go to St.Mungo," Hermione said, so speedily Professor McGonagall had trouble understanding each word.

"Why did you reduce him? Moreover, why would you freeze him? Don't you know it's a very dangerous spell combination?"

"We had to," said Ron. "Hermione's father, he's the doctor who took care of Harry, told us that if we moved Harry, it might die. I think his spine is broken or something. The only way to get him over here was to freeze him and then reduce him since he had to be kept in his bed with all his casts."

"I know it's illegal magic but…" stuttered Hermione. She was cut off but Professor McGonagall.

"I don't care whether it's legal or not. I don't really understand what you're saying but we need to bring Harry to Madam Pomfrey straight away."

"I think we should go to St.Mungo," said Hermione.

"Why?"

"Harry's injuries are severe. I doubt Madam Pomfrey can…"

"Young lady," interrupted McGonagall, "the staff at St.Mungo has their hands full right now."

"I've never seen anyone with Harry's injuries not go to St.Mungo!" Hermione insisted.

The headmistress looked deep into Hermione's eyes. "You seem to forget that I'm here."

"Professor McGonagall," interrupted Ron, "my parents…"

"They are all fine. Now come along."

Professor McGonagall grabbed her long robe and proceeded up the stairs. Hermione and Ron followed. As they made their way towards the infirmary, the headmistress kept producing bridges and staircases where corridors had collapsed and walls were missing. As if nothing had happened, Minerva McGonagall strolled ahead without stopping, barely moving her wand or uttering a word. When the rain started to pour, she conjured a complete roof without looking up.

"That's amazing," said Ron who could not keep quiet in front of McGonagall's achievements.

"Am I to understand you consider me an underrated Dumbledore?" said McGonagall.

"No," replied Hermione shameful. "Ron was just..."

"Ron was just what?" shouted the old witch as she stopped and turned around to face them.

Hermione and Ron were stunned; they had made the headmistress angry. Hermione swallowed her saliva and opted for the truth.

"Well maybe just a bit," whispered Hermione.

Professor McGonagall's expression changed; a mischievous smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. She got within two inches of Hermione's nose and said; "this is the best news I've had all day. Make sure anyone you meet is fully aware that I am merely half the wizard Albus Dumbledore was."

She turned around and out of thin air created a magnificent staircase upon which giant gargoyles of pink marble stood guard. Hermione and Ron winked at one another in agreement; they knew what was expected of them. Creating such an immense and elaborate staircase was proof Minerva McGonagall was as powerful as Dumbledore; but for the moment, the strength of the headmistress depended on her talents remaining secret. Ron looked at the frozen Harry in the palm of his hand, reassured that his friend would be all right. The infirmary was at the top of these stairs.

"Madam Pomfrey! Quick, there is work."

Professor McGonagall illuminated the infirmary as if it was bright daylight and eliminated every parcel of dust from the entire room. Ron put Harry in the middle of the floor and waited for Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall to take a good look. He had not been a hundred percent sure the spells they used on Harry were the correct ones even tough they worked. Hermione, more than Ron, would not survive if Professor McGonagall, once her inspection over, concluded their spells were deficient.

"Tell me exactly what you did?" McGonagall said.

"First I froze Harry with glacio suspendo but then Hermione could not reduce him," said Ron.

"We figured out the glacio suspendo spell was too strong for the condenso intio. Ron unfroze Harry; we talked to him to make sure he was all right and I reduced him then Ron froze him."

Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey looked at one another, then down at Harry, then back to each other. The silence was killing Hermione and Ron. Professor McGonagall finally smiled.

"Amazing work. I am glad to see all these years at Hogwarts had not been wasted on you Ron Weasley. Hermione, I expected nothing less from you."

Hermione gently elbowed Ron who was red with embarrassment. It was the first time McGonagall congratulated him without adding some comment for further improvement. Madam Pomfrey raised her wand but Professor McGonagall put her hand on her arm; "no, I will take care of this. Go attend to your other patient."

"I am quite capable of taking care of Harry," Pomfrey said aggravated.

"I know you are but you what needs to be done demands blood and yours cannot be spared."

"You are not a young witch anymore," replied Madam Pomfrey in a more caring than a sarcastic voice.

"Maybe so," said Professor McGonagall. "But like wines, I have aged well: very well, if I may say so!"

The headmistress winked at Hermione and Ron who were in awe of the magnificent lady standing in front of them, using humour as resourcefully as Dumbledore so often did.

Professor McGonagall pushed everyone back and extended both her arms as far as she could. Without using her wand, she spread her fingers wide and said; "ecooum derriu." The bed and Harry returned to their original size. She walked around and inspected every inch of Harry. She paused, took deep breaths and suddenly stopped.

"Would you do us the honour Mr. Weasley?"

Ron had to be pushed by Hermione as he thought Professor McGonagall made a joke. Realizing the headmistress was serious, he took out his wand, pointed directly between Harry's eyebrows and said solemnly; "terminum suspendum." Harry came back to life.

Harry was a bit lost: after all, one millionth of a second had passed between the moment he was frozen in the hospital and the present one.

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry whispered.

"Yes, Harry. You are in Hogwarts."

"Why am I here?"

"Hermione and Ron will explain," Professor McGonagall said. "Right now, I need to fix at least sixteen of your bones."

Turning to Hermione and Ron, Professor McGonagall added; "this will take some time. There is someone in Madam Pomfrey's private recovery room who will be most pleased to see you."

Hermione and Ron squeezed Harry's hand, passing by his bed, and disappeared in the back of the infirmary. Professor McGonagall looked at Harry and put one finger on her mouth, showing him he had to be quiet. She pricked her finger on the top of her wand and conjured a silver cup in which three drops of blood fell. She filled the cup with a crystalline liquid.

"I lied Harry," said Professor McGonagall gravely.

"What?"

"This will not take long."

Harry almost recognized Dumbledore's mischievous look in Professor McGonagall's eyes, the one the late headmaster would use whenever he was afraid. She put the cup on Harry's lips and knowing he would have some qualms about drinking her blood, explained.

"Do not be fooled by what you have seen. You are not drinking my blood. The red drops are concentrated magic. Only very old wizard can spare themselves with concentrated magic."

"I don't want to take away any of your magic."

"I am sure you've had this argument with Albus before. Do not tell an old lady what she can and cannot do. Drink! This is not a suggestion, this is not even an order; it's a fact. I have ways to force you..."

If not for a faint smile Harry saw on Professor McGonagall's lips, he would have thought evil and taken over her. The instant his tongue touched the warm potion, the pain around his jaw fainted. He kept on drinking until the cup was empty. Healthy as a horse, he wanted to jump on his feet but Professor McGonagall stopped him.

"Wait a moment Harry. I need to take off all these white things around your legs and arms first."

Harry's casts vanished. He sat in his bed, touched his limbs and could find nothing wrong with them. Professor McGonagall smiled and walked out of the infirmary.

Harry grabbed a sheet from the bed, wrapped himself and walked towards the back of the infirmary. Hermione and Ron stood silently in the doorway of a dim lit room. In a bed magically augmented four times, rested Hagrid, covered with ointments and bandages.

"What happened?" asked Harry.

"He was attacked by no less than fifty Dementors," said Madam Pomfrey. "Most of the professors who went to help got off with scratches and bruises, but not Hagrid. The Dementors were dead set on killing him."

"But what about the forest?" Hermione said. "It looks like it was bombed."

"Fireballs! We don't know where they came from but they destroyed everything they touched."

Madam Pomfrey pointed at the window where the ruins mixed with the crater like landscape. Harry moved towards the window to see for himself. He wanted to ask more questions but decided to wait for a private meeting with Professor McGonagall.

"Who's there?" whispered Hagrid, barely moving.

"It's me, Harry. Hermione and Ron are with me."

The three wizards gathered around the bed, taking each an arm or a hand so Hagrid could feel their presence. The giant's eyes were hidden under protruding red blood veins: something was wrong with his sight. Hermione caressed Hagrid's left eyebrow and turned to Madam Pomfrey who shook her head; "Hagrid is blind. There's nothing I can do."

"I'm so glad you're okay," said Hagrid. "Don't you lots go worry about me. They're taking real good care of me and don't forget that I'm a giant and that we've been recovering from far worse injuries for thousands of years."

"You know what happened to you?" said Ron.

"I don't remember much. Dementors, coming from all sides. Buckbeak came to warn me. What an amazing creature he is, coming out of hiding to help me. Hadn't been for Buckbeak, I'd been killed in my house."

"When did it happen?" said Harry.

"Right after six o'clock on your birthday Harry. News travels fast. There was a roar of joy over here when we heard you-know-who did not kill you. By the way, happy birthday."

Harry was too touched to speak. Hermione, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence, went on with the questions.

"Why do you think the Dementors came after you?"

"Who knows? We've been hearing about them attacking anything that moved for months now. It was the first time they gathered in so high number. If you asked me, I think you-know-who sent them to destroy Hogwarts but the Dementors must have heard it all wrong. You know they have the worst hearing?"

"What," said Ron comically.

"It's true. They may be evil reincarnated but they are deaf as stones. If you don't scream in their ears, they have no clue what you've said. So instead of Hogwarts they heard Hagrid the stupid idiots."

Everyone laughed expect Hagrid who was dead serious. The giant took pleasure in listening to all these bursts of joy and started to laugh as well. Hagrid's giggles turned into giant laughter, which shook the bed so much it threatened to collapse. Madam Pomfrey did not appreciate seeing Hagrid's abdomen trembled: bandages she had put this morning were coming off.

"That will be all for now," said Madam Pomfrey. "Hagrid needs to rest if he wants my ointments to work. He still has three broken vertebrae." Turning to Ron, Madam Pomfrey said; "I think you should go home Mr. Weasley. I'm sure your parents would appreciate finding out you are still alive."

Ron, Hermione and Harry said warm goodbyes to the giant who dozed off. As they walked out of the infirmary, Hermione took out her wand and created normal clothes for Harry who forgot he was dressed for a toga party. They headed for Professor McGonagall's office. Harry was ambivalent about calling the room anything else but Dumbledore's. The memories attached to the late headmaster's office were too vivid for him.

Hogwarts was so damaged, it was hard to find their way to get there. The emptiness surrounding them, especially the absence of Nearly Headless Nick and his friendly ghosts, did not help their search.

"Looks like the corridors have been redone," Hermione pointed out.

"Maybe McGonagall is rebuilding Hogwarts to her own taste," said Ron.

"I know it's over here," said Harry, insisting on turning right. "By the way, where is everyone?"

"We haven't seen anyone else besides Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey and Hagrid," said Ron.

"I imagine they all left Hogwarts after the attack," added Hermione.

They hit a dead end corridor. Discouraged, they turned around after what seemed the fifth time. Harry regretted leaving for Godric's Hollow in such a hurry he forgot his marauder map. Worse, as he was going through his pockets, he realized he was without his wand, his invisibility cloak and his broom.

"I have them," said Hermione. "I left them in the courtyard when we crossed over from your grandmother's grave."

"Oh yes, thanks!" Harry said, remembering the Portkey. "How did you know it was my grandmother's tombstone?"

"Sheer luck," said Ron. "All I had to do was fall in."

The trio was exhausted and scared they would never find the headmistress office, let alone get out of Hogwarts. When they saw the candles illuminating the Great Hall, they gave up their search for McGonagall's office and headed down the staircase leading to the front doors. Hermione fetched Harry's things: he looked through his robe and found Hermione's tiny little broomstick, which he brought back to its original size.

"Well, we'd better get started; it's a long way home," said Ron who had no clue how to get there.

"You should go ahead on my broom," said Hermione to Ron. "Harry and I will find a way to join you."

"Are you sure?" said Ron, somewhat embarrassed.

"You are not thinking of turning me down because I have a girl broom," replied Hermione angrily.

"No, of course not. I can fly any broom."

Ron sat on the flying engine, hugged Harry and embraced Hermione who did not back off, even though Harry was looking. He had been so use to their bickering by now that he expected finding them covered with each others blood after living together for a whole week back at Hermione's. The exact opposite happened; they were more than just close.

Now alone with Hermione, Harry wanted to discuss Ron but she did not let him, she ran like a schoolgirl down the hill, daring him to catch her before reaching Hogsmeade.

Chapter 10

Hogsmeade

Harry reached Hermione in no time since Hogsmeade was a good half hour by foot. Both friends shared a comfortable silence during their journey. Harry was trying to grasp the enormity of the assault on Hogwarts. The remains of Hagrid's house prompting him to recall the events leading to Dumbledore's death and ultimately, Snape's escape.

"I don't think it's very healthy to think about that right now Harry."

Hermione took one look at Harry and knew the dark waters his mind was lost in. Harry forgot about Snape but was invaded by images of Draco Malfoy. His gloomy face changed into a more reflective one. Hermione helped him figure out what was bothering him.

"Just thinking about Malfoy," Harry said.

"What about Malfoy?"

"He didn't kill Dumbledore. Hadn't it been for Snape, Dumbledore would still be alive: Malfoy couldn't do it. You know how I hate the guy but still, he wouldn't have killed Dumbledore."

"But that's what Voldemort wanted him to do."

"I know," Harry said, trying to make sense of what he had seen.

"Dumbledore believed in Malfoy, you said so yourself."

"Right! Dumbledore told me that being attracted to the dark side and going over completely were two different things. It's just that…"

"That…" continued Hermione.

"Well what happened to him? Has he reappeared? Is he hiding somewhere?"

"Oh…" Hermione said gravely. "You don't know."

"What now?"

"Malfoy's dead. He drowned in the river in the back of his house. His own mother was there."

"What!"

"I don't know all the details, there was a small article in the Daily Prophet. Apparently, Malfoy was running away from Death Eaters and jumped in the river."

"So what," Harry said irritated. "Couldn't he just swim away from them?"

"That's just it Harry. Malfoy can't swim."

Harry looked puzzled; Malfoy could swim or at least he thought he could. Hermione considered the story ludicrous as well. To her, it was more a question of why he would throw himself in the river if he knew he would drown.

"I know," agreed Harry.

"What?" said Hermione, having no idea what Harry referred to.

"What you said, why would he throw himself in the river."

"Harry," Hermione mumbled, coming to a halt. "I didn't say anything; I just thought it."

Harry distinctly heard her say the words. He kept looking at her and though he mouth was not moving, he heard her thoughts. He almost lost his balance, knocked off by the tsunami of ideas gushing out of Hermione's brain.

"Harry! Are you all right?"

"Hermione… I can read your mind."

This new talent of Harry did not surprise Hermione. She expected Harry's occlumentic talents to show up at one point: after all, he was a Parseltongue. In fact, she thought this talent was well overdue. Smiling, she decided to think her answers, not vocalise them.

"Don't think so fast," Harry said, laughingly. "I knew you were intelligent but I had no idea your brain was working so fast."

"All right," Hermione said, considering spoken words to be more adequate for the moment. "Let's use normal conversation then."

"So, we both think that Malfoy's death is fishy if not a complete fake. If you can't swim, why jump in a river right in front of mother so she can see you die?"

"That's what I've read, but I don't need to remind you how much the Daily Prophet loves twisting the truth."

Lack of sleep added to a long tedious walk drained Hermione's energies. She thought of something and saw that Harry understood her perfectly. He grabbed her hand, closed his eyes, and effortlessly imagined a little park at the entrance of Hogsmeade. When he opened his eyes, they had apparated exactly where he intended.

"Nice," Hermione said.

"I wanted to apparate from Hogwarts but I didn't want to do it in front of Ron. Has he done it without any problem yet?"

"No. I think he's just nervous, but trust me, his new fierceness will help him," Hermione comically emphasised fierceness.

Hogsmeade had been spared; unlike Hogwarts, it was intact. People were shopping, talking to one another. Harry and Hermione decided to avoid their normal coffee hangout and opted for Madam Rosmertas; after all, they were adults in the Wizarding community.

The sturdy pirate atmosphere of the place was a blessing. For months, depressed faces, bad news and catastrophes had surrounded them; looking at thugs only interested at punishing whoever would cheat at cards, was a welcome diversion.

"And what will it be?" Madam Rosmertas smiled mischievously at the two youngsters, almost pretending she did not know they could drink something stronger than butter beer. Not wanting to push their luck, Hermione ordered a tea for Harry and a coffee for her: she was desperate for caffeine.

"Wise choice," replied Rosmertas, disappearing behind the bar.

"So how do we get to Ron?" asked Harry.

"Ok Harry! Enough!" Hermione said annoyed. "Don't repeat everything I am thinking."

"Oh… I didn't know. Gonna take some time to get use to this. Anyway, how do we get there? We only have one broom and it's too far to go by foot and apparating over long distances is dangerous."

"Harry Potter! I may not be able to read your mind but I've always been good at guessing what's going on in there. I know you know I know that you have apparated at least a hundred times further before. Apparating is not limited by distance. I don't need to remind the Dark Arts prodigy that you are."

"All right," Harry said. "But don't try to apparate; I'll do it for the both of us."

"I'll let you try the first time but if we end up in the middle of Norway, I'll take over!"

Gigging with delight, they drank their tea and coffee. It suddenly dawned on Harry that he never bothered to ask how her parents were, let alone thank her for having an amazing doctor for father.

"Hermione…"

"Oh no, I think you're going serious on me."

"Why are you here?"

"What?"

"I mean… I'm grateful you decided to come into the Wizarding world but what about your parents?"

"Oh," whispered Hermione, sensing what Harry was hinting. "My parents are very good at taking care of themselves."

"That's a harsh thing to say. You have great parents. I don't understand why you don't want to be with them when there's a civil war going on. Why would you come here even if getting back into Muggle world may be impossible?"

"Oh ye of little faith," replied Hermione.

She took a sip of another cup of coffee Rosmertas just served her. She maintained a long silence, doing mental arithmetic so Harry could not read her mind.

"You think you can go back!" shouted Harry.

"How did you know that? I was only thinking about numbers."

"Maybe, but you still think about the rest. Dumbledore told me that only a few wizards were capable on focussing their minds on one idea so that all others would not be read."

"All right then, I hope you tell me before I'm thinking too privately."

"Don't worry. I'm getting the hang of it. I'll be able to shout it down in no time. So what exactly were you thinking?"

"The Portkey is not one way; it also leads out of Hogwarts' courtyard into Godric's Hollow."

"That's good, that's very good. Still, it doesn't explain why you don't want to physically be with your parents. What if something happened? How would you find out?"

"Take out your invisibility cloak," ordered Hermione.

Hermione was thinking so many things at once; Harry could not thread any specific one. He obeyed and, making sure they were not spied on, wrapped the cloak over the table.

"Did it grow?" asked Hermione, noticing the cloak covered a larger area.

"Yes, I think it did."

Once hidden, Hermione looked through one of her pocket and put a shinny object on the table.

"Your cell phone!" Harry said stridently.

"Not so loud, no one is to know. I've been using my cell phone ever since I've been in Hogwarts. No on here knows that cell phones can call into Muggle World."

"How come you never said anything before?"

"If the staff at Hogwarts or anyone at the Ministry of Magic knew about it, they would have put jinxes all over so it could not be done anymore. I would have had to come up with countless new spells to hide it or simply use it."

Hermione winked at Harry and dialled a number. She put the cell phone close to both their ears so Harry could listen.

"Hi mom!"

"I asked you to call every twelve hours," said Mrs. Granger.

"It was impossible this time." Hermione smiled, seeing how amazed Harry was. "Everything's fine. Harry is one hundred percent fixed, not even a scratch. It only took one sip of magic liquid. Don't tell papa cause he'll feel stupid again. Tell him it took fifteen wizards and they had to do hours of non-stop spells.

"Hermione!" said Mrs. Granger. "Your father has a very healthy ego, he doesn't need to be preserved from the truth like all the other dim-witted doctors he works with."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"So what are you guys going to do next?"

"Well, first we're going to Ron's. His brother is getting married."

"That's a bit trivial," said Mrs. Granger surprised.

"I think it's wonderful, a wedding is the best thing for all of us right now."

"You're probably right. Give my best to Ron and tell him that when things settle down, your father and I will be expecting him and his family for a visit. Do not take no for an answer or I will take care of it personally."

Harry laughed, seeing how terrified Hermione was of her mother. She turned off her phone and put it back in her pocket. Harry took off his invisibility cloak and gasped when he saw bad-breath wizards surrounding them, one drooling on his shoulder.

"Where you lot's disappeared to?" said an eight-foot tall witch.

"Actually, it's more of question of where are we disappearing to."

Harry read Hermione's mind and swiftly disappeared from the tavern and apparated at the entrance of Hogsmeade. The atmosphere had changed drastically; everyone was starring in the same direction.

About half a mile down the hill towards the train station, some five hundred people were walking towards Hogsmeade. Most had suffered terrible injuries, covered with bandages or carried by someone else. Hermione was upset by the distraught in young children, babies, so thin they probably had not eaten for days.

"Refugees…" whispered Hermione.

"What?" replied Harry.

"There's a war going on, every war has refugees, people who lost everything, who go to another places, hoping they would have food."

"I know what a refugee is, I never thought wizards could become refugees."

"I didn't either."

Hogsmeade's local population snapped out of its initial shock and hurried towards anyone in need of help. Harry helped an old man who could barely carry a four-year-old girl. Putting the man left's arm over his shoulder, he carried the little girl in his right and manoeuvred away from the dense crowd into Madam Rosmertas' tavern.

He wanted to stay with them but others needed him so he told the old man to help himself with whatever he needed. Both the man and the young girl were too exhausted to move. Harry ran to the kitchen when the eight-foot witch blocked his path.

"You go on," said the witch, "I'll take care of them."

Harry hesitated, thinking the old man and the girl may become dinner but before he could speak, he heard a loud scream from the witch's mind; "For serpents and cauldrons sake, I'm gonna eat them!"

"Thanks," Harry said walking out, discovering how useful his new occlument talent was turning out to be.

Outside, Harry came face to face with Madam Rosmertas who levitated high above everyone. She reinvented herself into some kind of army general or crisis situation expert, giving orders and directions to Hogsmeade locals. The severely injured were sent to Hogwarts infirmary while the others were gathered in the street, in front of the shops.

Within two hours, each refugee had found a kind soul to rely on. Owls had been organised into highly effective squadrons; calls for help were sent to distant cousins, old friends and total strangers. The tavern owner gained the admiration of Hermione and Harry who closely stood by to relay her instructions.

Calm resumed and Rosmertas had time to sit with a reporter from the Daily Prophet to answer questions. Hermione and Harry made their way to the tavern when a blond, blue eye, short and stocky young man, stopped them.

"Thank you very much," he said with a heavy german accent.

"Do I know you?" said Harry.

"You helped my grandfather and my sister get something to eat before everyone else."

"Oh, of course. Are they all right?"

"Yes. Again, thank you very much."

"Gregor VanWitt!"

Hermione had been looking inquisitively at the stranger without saying a word. Harry wondered what happened with her since she always found a way to jump into a private conversation. The stocky blond boy gave half a smile to Hermione who jumped with excitement.

"WOW!" shouted Hermione hysterically. "Harry! This is Gregor VanWitt!"

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are," babbled Harry.

"Don't worry about it. I'm quite unknown in the Wizarding community."

"He's the star recruit of Berlin's football team."

Harry looked at Hermione more amazed than angry: after all the disdain she showed for Quidditch, how could she be such a girly football fan? Gregor VanWitt obviously did not appreciate being recognized so vividly; Harry saved him from Hermione and Hermione from her ridiculous self.

"So what happened? Why did you all come to England?"

"Magical villages in Germany have been under relentless attacks from purebloods. It's been simmering for years but we've always managed to leave together. Not anymore. I bet no one here has heard about it!"

Hermione and Harry looked at each other dumbfounded. Hermione remembered reading about some conflicts in Germany but did not assumed the rest of the world would join in England's magical civil war so fast. The little girl Harry helped screamed from the tavern as she saw her brother and came running into his arm.

"I'm sorry," said Hermione. "I guess we've been too busy dealing with our own little problems we forgot about anyone else."

"There are not little problems," said Harry, crossed. "We've been hit bad as well. Guess Voldemort has decided to rally all the purebloods outside England as well."

"You say his name," whispered Gregor apprehensively.

It unexpectedly dawned on Hermione and Harry that their theory regarding Voldemort's world domination plan was just confirmed. Hermione managed to forget she was standing in front of a football star and asked intelligent questions.

"You mean Voldemort is behind the attacks in Germany?"

"Of course," replied Gregor. "He's been seen all over Europe since he was spotted at your ministry last year. We had to create complete new teams of Aurores. The question of purebloods, halfbloods and Muggles is very sensitive in Germany. All you-know-who had to do was seduce purebloods with promise of a return to the old days."

"The old days…" questioned Harry.

"A time when wizards had not started breeding with Muggles yet."

"What about you?" said Hermione. "How come you know all this?"

"If you must know, I'm pureblood. I was invited to join in the purity war, that's how we call it in my country," said Gregor broodingly

"Why didn't you?" Harry snapped, gnashing his teeth.

"Not all purebloods are evil," Hermione murmured. "Look at Ron's family."

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I get carried away sometimes."

"Where are our manners," intervened Hermione, wanting to change the topic. "We haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Hermione Granger and this is Harry Potter."

The little girl, who had been hugging her brother as if he was the only safe person in the world, turned her head and looked at Harry.

"You are Harry Potter!"

"Well…" Harry mumbled, "looks like I'm known in Germany."

"You are, big time," said Gregor. "I don't know about the rest of the world but the fact that you survived you-know-who's attack last month made front-page news. We were amazed someone so powerful he create a rift in London could not scratch one of your fingers. At least, that's what our papers said."

"Yes… that's true," whispered Harry, so uncomfortable he was fixing the ground

"Where will you be staying?" asked Hermione.

"My grandfather had been friend with one of Hogwarts' teacher. She invited us to stay at Hogwarts."

"Which teacher?" said Hermione.

"Minerva McGonagall" responded the little girl proudly.

"You'd better go straight away then, Professor McGonagall doesn't like when people are late," smiled Harry getting his eyes off the ground. "You need to stay in contact with us. I still want to know how a pureblood can become a human football star."

"I am not a star yet. It's a long story and yes, I will gladly stay in contact," said Gregor. "My friends will be green with jealousy when I tell them I've talked with Harry Potter."

"And for me," said Hermione giggling, "all my friends in London will eat the pavement when I tell them I know Gregor VanWitt personally."

The young man walked over to his grandfather and helped him and his young sisters make it to Hogwarts.

It was time for Hermione and Harry to get Ron's. They walked into the secluded backyard of the tavern and were about to do perform the apparition spell when both of them thought the same thing at the same time; "George and Fred!"

They rushed back to the Weasley's twins shop but it was closed.

"Of course," said Hermione. "Their brother is getting married today. Why would their shop be opened?"

"Okay then, let's do it but remember, I'm apparating the both of us."

Hermione growled a yes and held Harry's hands. They closed their eyes. Harry took a deep breath, visualized the Weasley's kitchen, imagined with as much details as he could the feast taking place under a perfect blue sky. It was this image of infinite blue that was in Harry's mind when he said; "apparate."

Next thing he knew, he was swallowing masses amounts of salt water, kicking with his legs and arms to stay afloat. He was surrounded with giant waves, no land in sight. Hermione had to let go of his hands in order to stay above the water.

They started to drift apart. Harry took two long seconds before realizing he had overshoot; they were somewhere in the middle of the ocean. He was trying to find out what went wrong when he heard Hermione scream. Harry looked around but could not see her; she had disappeared.

Chapter 11

high school of magic Shwanemum

Harry screamed Hermione's name ten times before he felt a strange tingling at the tip of his fingers. Some invisible force was grabbing his hands. Within half a second, Hermione materialized.

"Hermione," shouted Harry, swallowing gulps of water.

"I… apparated…"

Hermione tired was having trouble talking and keeping herself from sinking. She held on to Harry who proved to be an excellent buoy.

"I tried swimming towards your voice but the waves were too strong. I decided to apparate focusing on your voice. Hold on Harry, I'll get us out of here!"

Harry wanted to tell her how sorry he was that he landed them in such a predicament but had no time; a strange sensation of becoming one with the ocean overcame him. They apparated in the ocean again.

"What's going on?" said Hermione in panic.

"You overshoot like I did."

Harry tried to apparated again which yielded the same results. The ocean was still surrounding them. They went on apparating, each taking turn, always ending up in salty water with no land in sight. At least, they managed to hold on to one another. The cold water was harder to endure with every new apparition; fear crept in, blocking logical alternatives to come to mind besides apparate, and apparate more.

It was impossible for either of them to know whether they were progressing towards land or simply remaining in the same spot. Before Hermione tried a seventh time, Harry squeezed her hands to stop her.

"Wait Hermione!" screamed Harry. "We're getting nowhere. We need to stop focusing on the Weasleys."

"Weasleys!" shouted Hermione near exhaustion. "I've been focusing on land, any land, trees or buildings."

"We're going to have to do the apparition spell together, at the same time."

A rather big wave overwhelmed Hermione who sank into the sea. Harry succeeded in bringing her back to the surface. His energy was wearing out. Once Hermione's head was off the water, he communicated mentally with her so she could reverse her mouth for breathing purposes only.

"Hermione, can you hear me," thought Harry. "Just use your mind, don't speak."

"We're going to die Harry!"

"No we're not. Here's what we're going to do. You will think of a place, anyplace. I will see it and I will focus on it. Do not think of me, just the place. When I clearly see it, I will count to three and we will say apparate together. You understand?"

"Yes, I'm doing it right now."

Harry saw a pier surrounded by boats. Hermione's images were as strong as Harry predicted; having a clear picture to work with was not a problem. He thought Hermione's idea brilliant since ports surrounded the sea. If they could not apparate directly onto land, at least they would be close to it.

Harry slowly counted from one to three, as softly as he could so to not disturb Hermione's image, squeezed her hands a fraction tighter and simultaneously said with her; "apparate."

When they opened their eyes, they found themselves exactly where Hermione had imagined it, on a wooden dock of some port. Wet but not cold as the heat prevailing was intense; they got back on their feet. Next to them were three drunken men, staring and terrified.

"Who are you?" mumbled one of the men.

"Don't worry Harry," said Hermione. "They're drifters and drunk. They won't remember a thing in an hour from now."

Without looking back at their unexpected public, Hermione and Harry walked along the pier holding on to one another. Enormous boats covered with lime and rust encircled them. The air thick with diesel fume was dropping oily residues on their hands and faces.

"Well… we are in a port, a very big port, somewhere," Hermione said.

"Can you tell where we are by the names on the boats?"

"No, these are international boats. These big ports attract boats from all over. We could be anywhere."

At the end of the pier, they conspicuously hid in the shadow of a huge transatlantic, knowing their wet selves would get noticed Listening to the accent of passers-by, it did not take long for Hermione to figure out where they had landed,

"English..." said Harry who had read Hermione's thoughts.

"I think we're in…"

Hermione did not finish her sentence: they had just walked pass the transatlantic and were offered a full view of their surroundings; about three miles away stood the Statue of Liberty.

"We're in New York," whispered Hermione.

"I can see that. So what do we do now?"

"Well let's hope my cell phone is still working."

Hermione sighed with joy when discovering her phone had not joined other shipwrecks in the ocean. She dialled a number but, as she feared, the phone had stopped working.

"Just our luck," shouted Hermione.

"Okay, minor setback. We'll figure something out," Harry said, trying to be reassuring. "Are there any wizards in New York?"

"I know there is a magic school in Salem so there must be wizards in the United-Sates. I'm sure New-York is full of them."

"Salem? Where is that?"

"It's near Boston. Haven't you ever open your book on the history of magic?"

"Not now Hermione," Harry said exacerbated. "How far is that school from here?"

"Even if we manage to get there, how are we going to find a magic school? It's probably hidden."

The heat quickly dried their clothes. They looked normal enough to get out of the shadow and into the streets. Without money, without a phone, neither Hermione nor Harry felt hopeless: they were awesomely excited. It was their first time overseas and they were still in possession of their wands.

"What about your map Harry?"

"Yeah, think I still got it, but what good is it going to be over here."

"It should work anywhere; you've used it in many different places. Wouldn't hurt to give it a try."

Harry led Hermione into a small park where they sat on the grass. They waited for some children to be finished with their ballgame before opening the map. Sadly, no names appeared on it.

"All right, at least it's working," said Hermione.

"What? It's not working at all."

"Of course it is, look," Hermione said, pointing at lines on the map. "These are streets and that spot here is the park."

"Yeah you're right. Why isn't it showing our names?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's only showing local wizards."

Hermione threw her head back and lay in the grass, shattered by yet another setback. Harry had always relied on her ideas and though he was as exhausted and hungry as she, he did not give in. He sensed Hermione's mind creating all sorts of doomsday scenarios. He stood up and started to walk with the map in hands.

"Hermione! Look!"

Hermione jumped and joined Harry.

"The map was not showing our names because we were not moving. Movement is what triggers the map over here."

The two wizards proceeded along streets where pedestrians were abundant. They looked like tourists and were stopped a number of times by kind soles wanting to help with directions. Hermione thought of conjuring some money but her disastrous experiences with the apparition spell deterred her; she was scared of creating counterfeit and pictured herself in a jail.

"Hermione…" Harry said winking.

Hermione forgot Harry could read her mind and decided to focus on the map. This new inclination of her imagination to succumb to ominous scenarios was new for Harry. They walked around for about half an hour when another name appeared: Sined Rousseau. They followed the dots on the map and came to a halt when facing a rather tall, redhead man, wearing a stunning pink suit and a red tie.

"Well that's a first!" said the man who, strangely, had a French accent.

"We're sorry to bother you like this," said Hermione." We are lost."

"I say. Where on earth have you been shopping for your clothes? We need to get you a Vogue young lady. This is New York!"

Hermione and Harry wondered if they did not approach the man to fast: maybe stalking him for a while would have been a better strategy. Hermione and Harry communicated mentally back and forth, exchanging ideas, one telling the other that the blame was his or hers. The wizard abruptly stopped them.

"Not so loud and so diffused! You need to thread your thoughts better. Still, how delicious! Good argumentum is so rare these days."

"How did you…" started to say Harry.

"I imagine your talent has recently sprung," the man cut in. "And don't try to read my mind my dear boy. You will only hurt yourself. I am not just any boring occlument; I am wearing Dolce and Cabana."

"Okay…" said Hermione.

"Well, with your accent, one is forced to infer that you are British. How sad, I assumed that fashion was to London what perfect baguettes were to Paris."

"Excuse us for not being fashionable," replied Hermione irritably, "but we didn't have time to check Vogue to see what loss people should wear these season!"

"Ho, how delightful! Wispy repartee from such a young person. My dear children, I am but your humble servant." Gracefully bowing, the man smiled. "My name is Sined Rousseau but I imagine you already know from your marauder map."

"You know about…" Harry started to say but again, was cut off.

"Of course young boy. So, you are both students of Hogwarts, you've tried an apparition spell that went terribly wrong. In fact you tried it eight times and instead of materializing your wet personas in your friend's backyard, you protruded out of a dock in New York's infamous port. Do not despair, apparating out of England and into this side of the Atlantic is a triumph in itself."

"I guess it takes one good occlument to know another," replied Hermione.

"My sweet girl, you are the brain of this duet. Still, your names have eluded me. Names, strange little things they are, always with us but never consciously."

"I'm Harry Potter, and this is my friend Hermione Granger."

The wizard's expression turned to austereness. He considered for a moment he was being swindled; Hermione and Harry physically felt telepathic powers rummaging their grey cells. Realizing Harry told the truth, the man turned right and instructed them to follow him. In an alley they entered, they were stopped by a battalion of soldiers wearing humongous guns and dressed for war.

"Papers! Now!" screamed one of them.

"Of course," said Rousseau.

The wizard twisted his right hand tree times and the militia's faces turned white then neutral. The lieutenant smiled and ordered his platoon to get out of the alley straight away.

"Doing magic on Muggles is not illegal here?" said Harry.

"On the contrary," said Sined. "Everything is illegal now. The earth is caught in a civil war. Over here in America there are so many extremist factions that the government has posted every soldier it could find everywhere it could think. An impossible task if you ask me, there is not enough GIs in the United States to deal with so many terrorists."

"What type of terrorists?" asked Hermione.

"Blacks against whites, Jewish people against Catholics against Protestants against Muslims. You have rich against poor, yellow against red, Republicans against Democrats. Every little group has its fanatic squadron, armed to the teeth and only too happy to kill. Don't be fooled by the relative calm you've seen in the streets, we've been lucky so far. Shall we."

The pink dressed wizard pointed to a brick wall. Hermione went through knowing the bricks used were the same as those of columns on platform nine and three-quarters in London's train station. Harry followed and found himself in a dimly lit Street.

"Over here," said Rousseau, entering a vine-covered alley between two houses.

The dead calm of this magical place was more proof of Voldemort's world domination plan. Sined pointed at a house on top of hill so Hermione and Harry could glance at the destruction a recent attack left.

The vines thickened as they made their way deeper into the alley. Soon, had it not been for candles floating every twenty feet, Hermione and Harry would have been in complete darkness. The alley became a maze where they spent fifteen minutes changing courses, turning left and right, going up hills and down staircases. If they did not lose trace of Sined, gone was their sense of direction. The pink dressed wizard was walking fast, never turning back to make sure he was still being pursued.

"Where are we going?" said Harry who had enough of being pricked by unexpected thorns spewing out of the vines.

Sined did not answer. They reached an open space where the vines let go of their relentless weaving. They then emerged on the top of a small hill offering of breathtaking view.

The landscape was gorged with old mountains and picturesque valleys. Hermione thought for a second they were in Scotland but reconsidered when noticing the tall trees covering every parcel of grounds were maples and pines. At the foot of the hill where they stood, was a beautiful lodge, protected by a white gabbled roof and bordered with playgrounds, sports areas and a calm blue lake.

"I never thought Salem's Witch School would look like this," Hermione said.

"You should brush up on your geography young lady," Sined pointed out. "Massachusetts would kill to look like this! Besides, that school no longer exists. There is but one school left in America and it is this one: Shwanemum."

"Shwanemum? I've never heard of it," Harry said.

"Because it's been out of circulation for a thousand years. It was recently revived to replace Salem's. Quite spectacular considering it is over a thousand years."

"How can it be a thousand years old?" asked Hermione. "It looks like it was built a hundred years ago."

"The current building was built in the early twenties; it was intended as a ski lodge. By the sixties, the surrounding mountains had lost their appeal for skiers who needed more challenging slopes. It became a retreat for old wizards who had nowhere else to go. It is built over an ancient school, dating back to the first millennia. The wizards of America built it; it was called a long-house."

"You mean there were wizards here before the Europeans showed up?" said Harry.

"Every first nation had its wizard community much like today. Hurons, Aztecs, Sioux, even as far north as Intuits. It is a little known fact since we have miserably been obsessed with Europe's magical history. We don't really know why they all disappeared. My guess is they died like their Muggle counterparts of diseases the first Europeans brought."

Hermione and Harry followed Sined who proceeded down the hill. Hermione kept bombarding the redhead wizard with questions while Harry, barely capable of staying on his feet, trailed. A day like his was having his toll on him.

Sined Rousseau paused and took pity on the boy. He looked at the skies, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled so softly no sound came out. A small boat flew from Shwanemum up to their location and set down in front of them. Hermione noticed how the embarkation resembled photos she had seen in books picturing the lives of early American Indians.

"It's called a canoe. It is the oldest one in Shwanemum. It is the only one on earth that can still do Chasse-galerie."

"Chasse what?" repeated Harry.

"Something similar to flying a broom. I don't know where the name came from; early French settlers who saw shamans do came up with the expression. Local folk tales have associated Chasse-galerie with the devil and it was not only forbidden but completely forgotten within two generations."

"What are we supposed to do?" Harry said, tired of the history lesson.

"We paddle of course, but don't worry; I will do the paddling."

They sat one behind the other in the canoe and as soon as Sined Rousseau started to pedal, the canoe moved through the air as if it was on a peaceful lake.

"The important thing is not to hit a church steeple," Rousseau said, laughing.

"Why?" asked Hermione.

"Because the canoe would break and plunge its occupants towards certain death. Funny how Muggles twist things around. I will give you a book on local legends. This land is filled with them."

The canoe floated down the hill, passed through the grand doors, and landed into Shwanemum's Grand Hall.

"Thanks," Harry said.

They disembarked. The boat rose up and clung itself to the wooden roof structure as if it was any old decoration. The Grand Hall was exactly as Harry and Hermione had imagined what a ski lodge would look like. The walls were made of timber, the lamps of oak branches and a fireplace made out of stone dominated the room.

"I am so glad you are all right."

Professor Gauthierseen came down from a timber staircase.

"Professor," said Harry, "what are you doing here?"

"I told you I was in contact with Ministries of Magic from all over the world. You think I'd miss something as important as the reopening of Shwanemum!"

Sined Rousseau moved comfortable reclining seats from the fireplace and slid them under Hermione and Harry. The two youngsters could barely keep their eyes open.

"It must be past midnight for you right now. You need to sleep; we will talk in the morning."

Professor Gauthierseen conjured sandwiches and tea. They ate and drank under the watchful eyes of their two benefactors, soon after, they succumbed to the arms of Morphea.

Hermione woke Harry up, insisting he look at something. Grabbing his glasses, he glimpsed around: he was sitting in his chair but on the deck of a boat. The sea vessel was enormous, more than twelve masts lining up, towering fifty feet and more. Sails were as impressive: each of a different colour, transforming the boat into a rainbow.

Harry got up and joined Hermione who was leaning over the banister. They were leaving some beautiful city. Still close to the shore, they stared at a cliff on top of which, a citadel circled an impressive castle. Lower, closer to the water, old houses made out of stones stood next to one another. Professor Gauthierseen showed up behind them and put his arms on their shoulders. The old man watched in silence the city drift away before filling the heads of his protégés with details about the place.

"Beautiful! Isn't it?" said the professor.

"Which city is it?" asked Hermione.

"That's Quebec." Two pairs of questioning eyes turned looked at the professor who did not expect students of a British private school to be that well informed. "Canada. Quebec is in Canada."

"But I thought we were near Salem?" Harry said.

"I'm sure Sined told you Salem's school was destroyed. Shwanemum is a bit north of Quebec, in a chain of mountains called the Laurentians. Do you know they are considered the oldest mountains in the world!"

"Oh…" Hermione said, embarrassed of how clueless she was. Hating feeling like a regular Ron Weasley or an ignorant Harry Potter, she changed the topic. "Why are we on this boat and how did we get here?"

"Dear Hermione…" said the professor's smiling. "Never one question when you can have two. We are on our way back to England. I'm sorry we couldn't give you the grand tour of Shwanemum but your disappearing act caused quite a commotion on the old continent."

"You have news from England?" Harry said.

"Of course! We developed a system of communication between continents. We write messages in the stars and put a jinx on them so only the receiver can decipher it."

"Why don't you use owls?" said Hermione.

"Owls were not designed to fly over the ocean. This boat is very fast. We will be at Bill's wedding in no time."

"Professor," Hermione continued, "how come Salem's school was completely destroyed. Aren't wizards here as powerful as ours?"

"A very pretentious comment young lady. I'll have you know Sined Rousseau has faced a hundred Dementors all by himself. If the attack on Salem's School would have been magical, the walls would still be standing."

"What happened?" Harry said.

"I'm sorry to say that the President of the United States panicked when she was told of the Civil War rocking the Wizarding community. An informer, who we are quite certain is one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, told her exactly where to drop the bombs. Our magic places are protected by powerful spells but they were no match for a bombardment of such magnitude."

"I hope the school was empty," Harry said.

"No Harry, it was full."

Harry did not insist. Hermione was upset for two reasons, the death of so many young wizards and the blasé tone Gauthierseen used to tell them.

Chapter 12

on an elongating boat

Harry could not to get over how mammoth the sails were. The giant ship must have had a hundred of them now: ever so often, a new one would spring out from one of the masts likes leaves on a tree. Each new sail helped increase the speed of the boat now rushing through the sea as if it was a plane.

"Harry! Come and look."

Hermione was at the other end of the boat, making grand gestures to Harry. Harry noticed there was no crew on the deck; in fact, besides Gauthierseen, Hermione and him, the boat was empty. The professor standing in front of the wheel, hands on his back, was commanding the sails all by himself.

Harry reached Hermione and gasped when he looked down at the ocean. Trailing the boat were all types of magical sea creatures. They were so numerous, he could not see the end of the procession. He saw mermaids, winged animals that resembled hypogryphs and centaurs, regular looking humans as well as translucent ones. The mermaids closest to the boat bore worrisome looks; behind them, marine centaurs anxiously kept turning their heads as if in danger of being caught.

"I never imagined there were marine centaurs," Hermione pointed out.

"Me neither, although nothing surprises me anymore. Why do you think they look so afraid?"

"Because they have good reasons to."

Hermione and Harry jumped; they did not hear Professor Gauthierseen arrive. The plump man did not have his traditional half smile wallpapered on his face but offered an aggravated expression while appreciating the sheer size the magical sea creatures occupied in the sea.

"They look like these refugees we saw at Hogsmeade," Harry said.

"Yes, quite right. It seems all magical creatures are trying to flee America."

Saying this, processor Gauthierseen looked at the sky as it suddenly darkened. The spectacle nearly knocked Hermione and Harry off their feet. It was as if every bird alive decided to all migrate together. What flew above them were no birds but more magical beings: wizards on their brooms, dragons of all shapes and sizes, flying horses, and many more creatures which neither Harry nor Hermione could identify.

"Them too…" whispered Harry ghastly.

"What, who are them?" Hermione said impatiently.

"Thestrals..."

"Yes, I see them as well," said Gauthierseen. "In my line of work, seeing people and creatures die is a common occurrence. I've often wondered if the numbers of deaths one had witnessed is related to how dark a Thestral gets."

"What!" said Hermione, not so much as a question but more as a comment of resentfulness.

"I am sorry," said the professor. "Such trivial matters will have to wait for awhile."

"Professor," said Harry, "did you send a signal to all these wizards and creatures to follow us?"

"Oh Harry… can't you see?"

Harry looked at Hermione who, like him, did not understand the professor's observation. Gauthierseen's green eyes got so tiny they felt like lasers directed at Harry who was still not coming up with the right explanation. The young wizard looked up at the sky, down at the sea, down and up until it came to him; "me, they are following me."

"Exactly young man," said Gauthierseen. "Up to this point, everyone thought the balance of magical power was equally shared between Voldemort and us but recent attacks shattered this illusion. The Dark Lord's terrible talents at rallying humans behind his cause have opened everyone's eyes. As powerful as I may be, even if Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in history, Voldemort has accomplished magic that is beyond us all."

"Are you saying we're doomed!" said Hermione softly, fearing that the creatures above or those below would hear her.

"I wouldn't go that far. Hope is always possible. But terrible times lay ahead."

"You cannot seriously think Harry will save all of these creatures? And why stop there, why not earth itself!"

"Right now, I would not discard anything," Gauthierseen added.

Harry kept quiet, barely paying attention to the exchange even though it concerned him. He was crawling under the weight that these followers, for lack of a better word, were putting on his shoulders.

"Surely Dumbledore was not the only great wizard in the world. There must be others who can do something?" Hermione continued.

"Not any that comes to mind, though there may very well be."

Professor Gauthierseen's answer annoyed Harry who understood what subtext he was supposed to read from it.

"Let me guess," Harry said angrily, "I am that wizard!"

"Oh no," said the professor with a tiny smile. "Hogwarts has produced the greatest of wizards from as far back as history as been recorded. If you ask me, Hogwarts has some magical aces left to play."

"Are you saying that our school is a wizard?" Hermione said.

"Not exactly a wizard but a self producing garden of magical seeds. Can't you guess who I am referring to here or do I have to blatantly say a name."

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione said with deep respect.

"Right again Miss Granger," smiled the professor. "I'm happy that both your brains are still working. I do think that the position of headmaster comes with some special magical bonus. Headmasters are not randomly chosen, the position does not go to whoever has more seniority. Dumbledore did not choose Minerva McGonagall as his second but Hogwarts did. Remember, Hogwarts chooses its headmasters, not the reverse."

Harry had relied so completely on Dumbledore over the years that Professor McGonagall got sidetrack in his mind. He never considered his Transfiguration teacher, though she possessed excellent skills, as an all-powerful force of nature. Granted, she knew a lot when it came to Defence Against the Dark Arts and was always ready to put herself in the line of fire, but deem her as Dumbledore's equal, Harry was not ready to take that leap.

Hermione saw how Gauthierseen's comment affected Harry; his unimpressed attitude disappointed her. Unlike him, she learned to appreciate the talents of McGonagall and developed a close rapport with her. If they ever made it back to Hogwarts, she would ease the transition for Harry who, in her mind, had to regard McGonagall as something more than a poor copy of Dumbledore.

"The speed of this boat is unbelievable," Hermione said, hoping Professor Gauthierseen would take the hint and change topic. "You have any idea how long before we reach England?"

"Should not be more than three hours."

The professor returned to his duty at the front of the boat. Hermione gently put her hand on Harry's and glanced at the horizon where more creatures were either flying in or swimming from.

"I cannot do this Hermione."

"I'm not expecting you to do anything Harry."

"But they are," Harry said, pointing at the followers.

"They have to hang on to something. If you want my opinion, I think they're betting on the good horse."

"What?"

"You've never heard the expression bidding on a horse?"

Harry's dumbfounded expression had Hermione roll her eyes and continue.

"It means they're putting their money on the horse that will win the race. That horse is you Harry."

"I know, I know," replied Harry exacerbated, "I'm the only one who escaped a direct attack by Voldemort when I was a baby."

"Oh it's much more than that! What you did two years ago in the graveyard is the stuff that legends are made of. You did not get lucky or happened to randomly get out of a bad situation; you engaged Voldemort and escaped. The Daily Prophet wrote a detailed account of what you say happened, everyone believes you now. You are famous but for the good reasons this time."

"Oh… so now people believe me."

"Yes Harry. You can be as resentful as you want but truth is people who could not believe a teenage wizard fought Voldemort and won are now behind you one hundred percent."

Harry had somehow focused on his failure at saving Cedrik Digory's life and forgot that he survived, unharmed, Voldemort's attempt to kill him. Harry smiled and tossed his hair aside like some pompous hero.

"That's the spirit," said Hermione cheerfully. "Hero I say, you are a hero…"

"Okay that's enough, my head will not go through my sweater if you continue. Let's go see what Gauthierseen is doing."

The two friends started to walk but stopped when a strange sensation of seasickness hit their stomachs. Even though there were moving forward, the front of the boat was not getting any closer. They made bigger strides and still the professor was as far as he was before. They ran as fast as they could until Hermione grabbed Harry and forced him to stop: they were making things worse.

"Harry, the boat!"

Harry did not need Hermione's comment to notice how the deck was getting longer. Each step they took added another feet of deck in front of them. If they ran, the distance they travelled elongated the boat equally.

Looking back, they saw that the end of the boat was at least two hundred feet away: the elongation was happening on both ends. Harry impulsively tried to run but Hermione halted him. Putting her hands next to her mouth, she screamed as loud as she could; "Professor Gauthierseen, Professor Gauthierseen."

The small figure of the wizard, almost a mile away, was stubbornly looking forward as if nothing was going on. Harry told Hermione to walk to her right while he would walk to his left. Fortunately, the stretching was only afflicting the length of the boat. Standing close to the banister, they tried to see if they could find some stray Death Eaters responsible for their predicament.

"Can you see anything?" asked Harry.

"No, and look."

All the flying wizards and creatures had vanished, the same for mermaids and other marine magical beings. The blue sky suddenly turned, darkness came from the east, from the west, from the south but not from the north. Hermione and Harry rushed back to the centre of the deck and adopted their back-to-back fighting position. Wands in hands, they waited.

Screeches and screams came from above. The sounds grew loud enough for both of them to recognize the hellish voices of Dementors. The screams alerted Gauthierseen who ran towards them. For some strange reason he was not aggravating the expansion.

The extreme length of the boat had rendered the sailing impossible. The forces on the masts, now separated by hundreds of feet, were tearing them apart; one after the other, they broke. Hermione was fending off broken pieces of woods and sails flying in their directions while Harry was repairing giant cracks appearing everywhere on the deck.

The Dementors gathered in one spot on the right side of the boat. They flew in such tight formation and so close to the sea that they created an immense wave. Harry pointed his wand at the wave now towering thirty feet high and three hundred feet wide. Concentrating on one specific image, he created a bluish beam from his wand and screamed; "glacio."

The wave immediately transformed into ice. The iceberg was so huge all the Dementors crashed into it. Ice being lighter than water, the iceberg stayed afloat and offered a temporary shield for their boat. All the masts were now destroyed which, at least, alleviated some of the pressure crushing the deck. Still, the boat kept cracking, entangled in a lateral swirl.

Professor Gauthierseen was halfway close when the front part of the boat collapsed. Hermione and Harry immediately ran towards the professor, hoping the elongating would put some deck under the professor's feet. As they feared, the boat did not expand. They reached the spot where to professor had disappeared: there was no signs of him, just vast amounts of waters entering the hall of the boat now exposed to the sea.

Harry did not want to end up in the sea another time. He took Hermione's hand and ran towards the back of the boat. To make matters worse, Dementors had woken up and were flying in their direction.

Harry was still holding on to Hermione, prepared to hold his breath and swim for the both of them when he realized that the tiny section of the boat did not sank. In fact, it was staying afloat quite steadily.

Looking down, they saw hundreds of mermaids holding on, creating some type of floating cushion. Hermione and Harry returned to their back-to-back fighting formation ready to face the Dementors. Harry had underestimated their numbers and felt his doom when Hermione whispered; "there must be a thousand of them."

The flock of Dementors was just fifty feats away from them when terrible roars came from above. No less than six giant dragons were aiming for Dementors, mouths open, throwing flames at them. On the back of each dragon, riding the beasts as if they were well-trained horses, were Tonks, Lupin, the Shecks twins, Mr. Weasley and Ron.

Dementors could not be killed by flame but this diversion gave Harry enough time to bring into being a Patronus. The beautiful horned creature was the biggest one he had produced yet. It flew gracefully at the Dementors and managed to scare the majority. The remaining ones were stopped by the dragons.

Another roaring sound took Hermione and Harry by surprise: jet planes. The Dragon squadron was about to engage the incoming planes when Harry, through a powerful occlumentic shout, ordered them to do nothing.

"No! These are human beings. They are just following orders."

The sophisticated warplanes travelling at the speed of sound would be over them in minutes. The Dragons dispersed as fast as they could. Harry grabbed Hermione and jumped overboard.

As they hit the water, two marine centaurs took each a wizard and said in unison; "grab on to our thighs, strangle our necks with might. Hide your nose and mouth in our manes, breath and trust us to be sane."

The two centaurs dove into the ocean taking Hermione and Harry along. The sheer cold of the water was enough to occupy Hermione and Harry's mind who found it quite easy to breathe since the centaur's manes were filled with air. There descent was so fast Hermione feared the pressure of the sea would be impossible for them to handle.

They were joined by translucid mermaids who surrounded them so tightly they created some kind of the mini submarine, thus controlling the pressure. The cold water was replaced by warmer one; Hermione and Harry let themselves be taken to the depths of the ocean.

Above their heads, marine flying horses swam hastily around the floating wreckage of their boat, creating a vacuum in which any remaining sails or planks sank. As the fighter planes flew over the area, all they could see was water.

A dreadfully loud noise stunned them; the following shockwave forced the translucid mermaids to use all their strength in order to stay in information. The centaurs being more massive, pushed further down than they had planned. Hermione almost fell off but Harry succeeded in grabbing her hand and nailed it back around the centaur's neck.

"What was that?" Hermione asked.

One of the centaurs was about to answer when a second explosion shook the water. This time, the centaurs swam straight-ahead. The previous shockwave had propelled them so far down that the second one barely touched them. The pressure was too hard to bear for to mermaids who were being crushed like pieces of paper.

Harry could hear everyone's thoughts; the centaurs were panicking, the mermaids were almost to the point of breaking away and Hermione was scarcely conscious. The centaurs started their ascents but the surface was too far for the humans to survive.

Another explosion! Harry lost Hermione's thoughts as she fainted. Her grasp had weakened and her will to live was gone. Her centaur being too distant, Harry could not help her in any way. The two centaurs separated: Harry was making his way back to the surface surrounded by half the mermaids, Hermione was sinking to the bottom of the sea trapped in her ready to burst translucid bubble.

Things were happening too fast for Harry to react. The deep cold had left its marks on his common sense and all he was capable of was to listen to his inner voice telling him to hold on. His centaur, being alone and in a more compact bubble, was gaining speed. Harry went in and out of consciousness before reaching the surface, the centaur shaking him each time he let go of his grip.

The ascent had been too fast for Harry; his lungs had suffered what divers call pressure injuries. Normal humans would have died but thanks to the translucid mermaids, the rapid change of pressure was not lethal. Except for an excruciating headache and painful breathing, Harry was alive, floating on the back of a marine centaur.

"Harry… Harry…" kept asking the centaur.

Harry did not have the heart to answer. From the corner of his eye, far in the distance, he saw planes bombarding the region where the boat had sunk. If they were not using atomic bombs, their weapons were nonetheless destructive. Calm ensued once the planes left.

Harry felt surrounded by bubbles of air. He thought it was due to the remaining shockwave of the last explosion. He was too weak and too broken to investigate what was happening. The bubbles increased in numbers and size; the centaur was having problem stay afloat.

He then heard some commotion but could not care enough to look at what was causing it. Water around him was disappearing; warm sea air was caressing his legs. The centaur became perfectly still. He was taken off by many hands and carried on some hard material. Harry heard voices asking him to wake up but his headache was too severe.

"Harry, Harry…"

One voice stood out: Hermione. He had been fooled too often before to fall for such a cheap trick and refused to come through.

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Harry's eyes opened, more as a reflex than as a conscious desire. He was looking at Hermione. Her head was wet, her skin was blue, and big strong men surrounded her. Harry laughed when he recognized Viktor Krum in the crowd. How stupid did Voldemort think he was to fall for such a ludicrous vision.

A warm sensation engulfed Harry. It started around his toes and slowly made his way to his head. Some tall giant man was pointing a wand at him. His lungs started to come back to normal and his headache was gone. He kept looking at Hermione and Viktor Krum who did not vanish. With the help of two strong men, he got back on his feet and looked around. He was on the boat that Viktor Krum used to get to Hogwarts two years ago for the Tri-Wizard cup.

He gazed intensely at Hermione: she was smiling. Impulsively, he hugged her so hard he almost broke one of her clavicle. It was true, Hermione was alive.

"How is it possible?" asked Harry.

"We've been trailing your boat since you left," explained Viktor. "Professor Gauthierseen sent a message to the stars last night for us to escort you back. We thought it best to keep hiding under to sea in case something happened."

"I don't remember much Harry," Hermione said. "One minute I was dead, going into the bottom and the next I was waking up on this deck."

Harry looked at Viktor, freed one of his hands, not wanting to let go of Hermione, and strongly held Viktor's right arm with immense gratefulness in his eyes.

"We really are the fastest boat by the way," said Krum, winking at Harry.

Viktor turned around, joined his hands on his back and gave a series of orders to the men who were twice his height and twice his weight in muscles. Harry was amazed at Viktor's commanding presence; carrying himself like an accomplished admiral, obviously revered by his crew.

The boat started to move, slowly at first but rapidly gaining speed there after. Viktor, standing on the upper deck at the front of the boat, turned to Hermione and Harry and said; "you better hold on to something."

Hermione and Harry grabbed the mast nearest to them. The boat flew out of the water and into the air. Harry turned around; although he knew they were safely going back to England, he sadly realized that all the magical creatures that had been following him, either in the sky or in the sea had vanished. Harry looked at Hermione who also came to same conclusion: the bombs must have killed thousands.

Chapter 13

the wedding

Though shores of England appeared, Hermione and Harry were too scared to leave their mast anchor and go stand in front of the boat. They could not get over how fast they got here. Krum's boat did in three minutes what the sailing boat would have done in two hours. The flying boat slowed down. Professor Gauthierseen, standing next to them took out his wand and said; "Auro Aura."

The boat's speed remained the same, the wind kept hitting Hermione and Harry in the face, the shores did not turn red; nothing special had happened though the professor was quite pleased with himself.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked.

"Some neat little trick Sined Rousseau showed me before we left. A protection spell so invisible that even wizards within it would not be aware of it."

"What's the use of such a spell?" asked Harry.

"To bring forth any spy on this boat."

The professor did not want to elaborate and disappeared back down in the haul. Harry did not care, the smell of England was too enjoyable to concentrate on anything else: salty, sultry and always moist. Hermione and Harry sniffed the fragrances of Albion, discovering all that the wind was bringing to their nostrils.

"We'll start our descent," shouted Victor Krum.

This was too good to be missed; the tired but happy passengers walked to the front of the boat. Hogwarts appeared over the horizons, looking almost intact. Professor McGonagall had gathered some help; small figures could be seen working on different sides of the castle like carefully trained ants. Further east emerged a house, strangely resembling the Weasleys.

"It is true!" said Gauthierseen, apparating. "You have not heard the news!"

"I wish you would give us a second warning before startling us like that," Hermione said abruptly.

"Ah, Miss Granger... Careful, ever planning miss Granger. May I remind you that apparating spells, for there are more than one as I am sure you know, do not come with a warning for those at the other end of the transfer? It would make the spell obsolete."

"What?" Harry said, completely lost.

"Never you mind. The important thing is that this enormous and pompous house we are approaching is the residence of the new Prime Minister."

"But it looks like Ron's place," Hermione said.

"It is. Scrimgeour's death took everyone by surprise. There have been so many tensions within the Ministry since that electing a new Prime Minister seemed an impossible task. Thankfully, voting members have wisely named the only right person for the job."

"Mr. Weasley!" whispered Harry.

"Yes. Bill Weasley is now Prime Minister Weasley. Surely, this does not come as a surprise. The Weasleys are by far the nicest pureblood wizards I have ever worked with. True, some halfblood or Muggle born may have had more experience but members of parliament would have never voted for anything less than a pureblood."

At least two hundred people greeted their arrival. It was the end of the afternoon; the air was warm but not too hot for Harry. Many familiar faces surfaced from the crowd, most important being Mrs. Weasley surrounded by what looked like an army of Aurores. In fact, all the Weasley family was waiting near the river where their boat accosted.

Hermione and Harry did not step out like graceful personalities but rushed down like fishes thrown back into their own private lake. Ron embraced Hermione and kept her close, fending off anyone wanting to touch her. Harry's heart stopped: right in front of Mrs. Weasley, with tears in her eyes and trembling hands close to her mouth, stood Ginny Weasley. Harry almost forgot how beautiful, how strong, how wonderful she was.

It dawned on him that the promise he made last year was a foolish one. Being far away or close to him was no different in terms of how secure one would be. He had witnessed the death of thousands of magical creatures and heard of thousands more. His heart was pumping but his mind was trying to stay in control. He did not know if Ginny's feelings had changed for she kept her emotions carefully at bay in her letters.

Ginny took matters into her own hands and rushed over to kiss Harry as he had never been kissed before. The two young lovers basked in their reunion as if the hundreds of people present were trees in the forest. Harry would stop their kissing, look deeply into Ginny's eyes and kiss again, ever more.

"Don't ever push me away again," Ginny said. "I want you to drop the noble act and forget about saving me. I will be by your side from now on. Whenever you're too busy fighting Voldemort, I will find a way to save us both. And do not embarrass yourself by thinking that I can't."

Harry had never been spoken with such might before, Ginny sounded almost angry. There could be no arguments from Harry who was just too delighted, too blissfully happy to be back in the arms of such a girl. Ginny, within three months of their separation, transformed into a young woman.

"Okay! Enough you two," screamed Mrs. Weasley. "I am a quite upset with you Harry Potter. I thought you would have been a bit faster at asking me how my hearing was."

"Oh yes," mumbled Harry, red with embarrassment. "Yes… you're right... how…"

"It's all right," cut in Mrs. Weasley, bursting into a gigantic laughs. Putting her arms around Ginny and Harry, she escorted them towards the house. "Who would've thought: I, good old Molly Weasley, wife of England's Magic Prime Minister!"

The group followed Mrs. Weasley into the house; she was dying to give the newcomers a grand tour of her mansion. All this good news within such a short time mended Harry's wounds faster than had he taken a magical potion. Mrs. Weasley was radiant, Ginny was at his side, Hermione and Ron finally made it as a couple

"I've never seen wizards work so fast before," pointed out Mrs. Weasley, passing by a witch giving orders to a group of wizards regarding the addition of a new wing. "I was against increasing the size of our family house but Bill convinced me otherwise: all these refugees needed to be occupied with something."

Harry was impressed by how the 'employees' of the house tried their best to please Mrs. Weasley who did not know how to ask for things she never needed. She was bombarded with questions. What should be the theme decoration for the three newly finished rooms? How many guests would be sitting at the diner table tonight?

Mrs. Weasley looked like a fish out of water. Hermione, having been brought up within a system of household servants where happiness depended on carefully planned orders, took things into her own hands.

"First Lady Weasley will answer all your questions later. You're all dismissed for now."

The personnel bowed their heads and exited the salon. What stunned Mrs Weasley the most was how natural it was for these people to obey. Molly Weasley gave Hermione one of her mighty disapproving squint, convinced that these kind people had been offended.

"I did not insult them," Hermione said. "I've had some experience in the matter and I can assure you that nothing is worse for household help to not know what is expected of them or have to follow unclear orders. I hope I didn't step over my boundaries First Lady Weasley," comically concluded Hermione, bowing.

"You better listen to her mom," said Ron proudly. "She knows what she's talking about. Besides, you've been saying how overwhelmed you were with all these people."

"Well then Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley, "anything else I should know?"

"It's all about what you need; even as insignificant this need appears to be. I'm sure that Mr. Weasley, Prime Minister Weasley, will rely on you for organizational matters. There will be meetings to plan, accommodations to find, new occupational issues that a civil war brings with it…"

Hermione's comments were hieroglyphic to say the least. Ron and his mother were about to add something but kept their mouths closed in hope that a better explanation would follow.

"The wife of a Prime Minister has the toughest diplomatic role at war time. Human history is filled with women who acted through diplomatic channels unbeknownst to their husbands. In other words, while heads of states might not talk to one another, their wives found a way to meet and often prevented the worst from happening. Mrs. Weasley, your new position is much more than a simple title."

"It is true I have been swamped with demands since Arthur became Prime Minster," said Mrs. Weasley laughing. "I am quite happy they have increased the size of my house since we are already expecting a delegation of the Chinese Ministry of Magic."

"And if you had to do the beds, clean the rooms, prepare meals, and on top of that, entertain," Hermione said gravely, "you would go crazy. Your staff is there to help and will gladly do so because they will be taking orders from a great woman."

"A formidable witch," Harry said, smiling.

"A fear inducing mother who knows how to order people around," Ron added with a wink.

"In all," said Ginny, "you and dad are the leaders of England's Magical community, and if dad is already acting the role, it's time you do the same."

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said. "I have to go see in the mirror how much my head has inflated. In addition, as I am looking at myself, I will tell the cook we cannot have fish tonight, I will ask Mrs. Farrar to change three of the beds into Chinese cots and will find time to pay Arthur a visit. He's been trapped for hours with three school headmasters who have no more position since their schools no longer exist."

Mrs. Weasley's face suddenly turned red. Harry thought it was a sign of an imperious curse but Hermione prevented him from making a fool of himself: she held his wand.

"OH DEAR!" shouted Mrs. Weasley out of desperation. "I forgot! We have a wedding to plan. Bill and Fleur wanted to celebrate their union tomorrow."

"I think you should leave it to Fleur," Ginny said. "She is like you: an uncanny talent for being on tops of things and ordering people around."

Mrs. Weasley kissed each of the young wizards and walked out of the salon. Hermione and Ron sat on one of the sofa while Harry chose an armchair, thinking that Ginny would have no choice but to sit directly on his laps; which she did. The normalcy of the moment overcame Harry; he could not relax so easily after all he had been through. Ginny and Ron were craving for all the details surrounding Hermione and Harry last few days.

The door opened and an owlish woman, straight as an arrow, walked into the room, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits. The woman must have never smiled in her life, thought Harry, her whole face had crippled into a tiny spot as if caught in a gravitational black hole.

"Mrs. Farrar!" whispered Ginny into Harry's ear, loud enough for Hermione to hear as well.

Mrs. Farrar served tea without uttering a word. She was so slow that Hermione got up but Ginny held her down, knowing it was a bad idea.

"Some young wizards are requesting au audience," Mrs. Farrar said.

Harry nearly laughed at the haughty tone but kept his severe face on. Ron, who seemed to enjoy his upward move into a hierarchical state, frowned and questioned Mrs. Farrar.

"Can you be more specific?"

"A certain Mrs. Luna Lovegood, Mr. Neville Longbottom and one other person who refuses to give her name."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place? Of course we want to see them," yelled Ron. "Next time, tell us as you enter the room, not after you've served tea."

Mrs. Farrar deformed her neck in some sort of bowing gesture and walked out, upholding her disgust in her mouth and flaunting her dignity by not slapping Ron across the face. Neville and Luna rushed in followed by a dark figure.

"Ushia," screamed Hermione and Harry. "You're alive!"

"Of course she's alive," said Luna. "If she were dead, she would not be here."

Gushes of laughter flew from everyone, even Ushia who had learn to enjoy Luna's edible taste for the obvious. More biscuits and teacups had to be brought for the stories that needed to be told lasted hours. Hermione and Harry found out exactly how Mr. Weasley became Prime Minister and how he managed to pull the strings necessary to let dragons be flown in his backyard and save them from Dementors. Professor McGonagall came up with am ingenious spell that rendered the dragons as obedient as well trained Lipizians.

Hermione and Harry's grand overseas adventure had everyone hanging on their lips, so frantically silent that the two heroes milked the story for all its worth, taking poetic licences with the truth. Luna and Neville's quest to find Ushia was as good a story. They too narrowly escaped with their lives in at least three separate occasions. Neville had much praise for Luna, detailing how intelligently and quickly she understood the Internet and, ultimately, found a way to reach Ushia.

"I don't understand why Muggles are so fascinated by the Web," Luna said as naturally as a Hogwarts' first year describing the leviosa spell. "Occlumency is faster and it does not lie."

"This must be quite a shock for you," Hermione said to Ushia.

"What do you mean?" asked Ushia.

"Only months ago you were practicing non-real magic and now, you are surrounded by real wizards and witches doing real magic."

"I've never practiced non-real magic; it was always real to me," Ushia lashed out. "The results were not as spectaculars as yours but it functioned under the same principles. I had a constant flow of people walk in to my store and than me for helping them."

Hermione underestimated how attached to her old life Ushia was. On the other hand, Harry was not as compassionate and decided to grill Ushia with more questions. Just as he opened his mouth, Ushia's expression changed from anger to embarrassment. She sat down, put her hands between her knees and let her head fall forward so she would not catch anyone's eyes.

Hermione and Harry looked at Luna, hoping for an explication but Luna gestured to drop it. Ginny felt strangely concerned and knelt down next to Ushia. She caressed Ushia's hair, putting them back behind her ears.

"You don't have to tell us anything," Ginny said. "I can only guess what you have been through. Whenever you're ready to talk, you let us know."

Ushia slowly raised her head and looked so deeply lost Ginny was taken aback. For a very brief moment, Ginny recognized the look behind Ushia's eyes but could not pinpoint where she had seen it. Luna, who managed to stay unaffected, asked more practical questions.

"Ushia needs a place to stay."

"I'm sure my mom can find a room," Ron said. "I'm telling you, every hour a new room appears in this house. She can stay with us as long as she wants. Unless her parents…"

Ushia blinded Ron with the meanest of look. The topic of parents would have to be avoided for now, silently observed Hermione. Ron did not appreciate being so vilely targeted, much to Harry's pleasure who had kept his friendship at bay as far as Ushia was concerned.

"Hey!" shouted Ron. "We've all suffered. There's not a person here who hasn't heard of someone close dying or losing all they had. I don't know what your story is but it sure isn't more terrible than ours. If you don't want to stay here, you can…"

"Enough Ron," Ginny said. Turning to Ushia, she used a softer tone. "Come with me. We'll go see my mother about finding you a room."

The rest of the afternoon was spent catching up. Ushia stubbornly remained in her room, which did not affect the group except for Ginny who kept taking her side every time her name came up. Dinner was imperially announced by Mrs. Farrar who flew open both doors of the salon.

Mr. Weasley managed to turn diner into a feast of jokes, narrating every stupid and embarrassing moment he had endured at the Ministry. The Chinese Magical Delegation gladly laughed without restrain; such a diversion was more than they had expected from their gracious hosts in these dire times.

Hermione did not enjoy herself as freely as others did. She considered the moment badly chosen for fun and jokes. There were so many matters to discuss, so many decisions to make, every second that passed was a second lost. Thankfully, Harry was still occlumently linked with her and tampered her volatile brain, reassuring her that all will be dealt with soon enough.

Diner ended with a toast for Bill and Fleur who stood up and gently kissed. Young and old, rested and tired, each guest joined in the happiness beaming from the couple.

It was decided to skip the usual after diner conversations and to retire to their respective rooms for the night. Ginny insisted Hermione stayed with her, which was good news for Hermione who was already missing the old sleep over in the Weasley's attic.

The next day started with a glorious sunrise. Prime Minister Weasley had not been awakened once during the night by news of wizards dying, bombs dropping, or any catastrophe whatsoever. It seemed that peaceful moments could be lasting more than a minute.

Bill and Fleur's wedding was turning out to be the biggest social event of the year. Wizards from all over the world were flying in to attend. Laws forbidding travel between worlds and countries were lifted by Prime Minister Weasley who had to face the fact that protection spells were useless.

Mrs. Weasley, being quite a queen at planning for disasters, created a special entry Porthole in the gazebo, behind the house, where anyone wanting to apparate would only do so there. It took some talent to create such an exclusive portal but Professor McGonagall had been up to the task. This simple action allowed Mrs. Weasley to greet each guest as he or she arrived, instead of running all over the house, even the fields, to find the new faces.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville were dressed in magnificent attires, specially created by an Italian Witch designer who, like so many others, escaped her homeland. No matter how many convincing arguments Ginny came up with, Ushia stayed in her room. Mrs. Weasley bluntly ended the discussion by ordering Ushia to stay in the library and find a way to pass the time.

Ginny, Hermione and Luna walked behind Fleur as she made her entry in the garden. Ron, Neville and Harry stood at the front, next to Bill. The scars left by the werewolf could have easily been hidden with a spell but Fleur insisted her husband appears as he was; she even threatened Lupin who had tried to overrule her decision. Fleur was no amateur; her spells were too sophisticated for Lupin who stepped back.

Wearing a long black robe and sapphire bow glowing like a star, Bill Weasley looked spectacular; his wolverine aspect added a touch of fear to his imposing persona. Fleur had never looked more proud than at this moment, she could see all the young witches drooling over her dangerous bad boy Bill.

The ceremony started. Harry, who had been respectfully listening to Professor McGonagall, oficient of the wedding, took advantage of a long paragraph read from a book to turn his head and glance at the crowd. He was so shaken by what he saw that everyone sitting near the front looked back as well.

As far as the horizon stretched, wizards and magical creatures were standing or flying. Harry estimated at least fifty thousand people but Hermione occlumently corrected him by increasing the head count to one hundred thousand. Mrs. Weasley was the most stunned. Having been busy for the last two hours, she did not see the pouring in of people from over the hills.

"My dear friends," shouted Professor McGonagall, wanting to bring everyone's attention back to the front. "We are gathered here today for the celebration of what we hold dearest to our heart. The knowledge that love will conqueror all."

Minerva McGonagall took it upon herself to come up with a speech that lingered away from marital issues to benefit war times need for unity. The groom and bride did not mind; they fully understood how their wedding was more than a union between husband and wife; it was proof that normal life could still be possible.

Vows were exchanged and rings put on fingers. Bill tenderly kissed Fleur. The strength of his embrace demanded one hundred percent of his force, one percent more and she would have been crushed Lupin wisely advised him this morning.

Professor McGonagall floated in the air so that the furthest wizards would see her. A quick flick of her wand and each guest had a crystal glass, filled with wine, appear in his or her hand. Looking down at Bill and Fleur still embracing, Professor McGonagall raised her glass and toasted the newly weds; "to love!"

The crowd responded. These two simple words became a war cry. Perfectly timed like tap dancers, wizards toasted the air, repeating over and over again; "to love!"

Chapter 14

meeting : Etats Generaux

Harry woke up somewhat tired, not from lack of sleep, but due to strenuous disturbing dreams. The last image still imprinted on hiss mind was of a dark shadow hovering over Old Gryffindor's house, insisting he remember something. In fact, now that he thought of it, it was the only dream he experienced all night, repeating itself like some broken record.

He got out of bed, opened the curtains and saw that early morning was long gone; he heard it did again, not within a dream state but for real. It was as audible as the voices coming from the corridor of people busying themselves with today's work. "Remember," the voice said.

He turned around swiftly in the direction of the voice but no one was there, not even a shadow. He touched his scar: nothing. He concluded that whoever the shadow was, real or not, it was not linked to Voldemort. The voice moved away. He ran out into the corridor. The busy noises of people chitchatting had also disappeared. From the corner of his left eye, he saw the shadow turn right at the end of the passageway.

"Wait!" shouted Harry.

What followed was so strange that Harry could hardly make sense of it. He saw the shadow disappear and appear, found himself up and down the stairs, often floating in the middle of the room, turning and rushing down a corridor. No matter what, the shadow stayed one-step ahead.

"Remember what?" Harry yelled.

Looking around, Harry realized he was still in bed, breathing heavily as if he ran the marathon. His dream states intertwined themselves with reality. He froze for a good twenty minutes hoping to hear the voice again. Noises were coming from all directions but not the voice. Children were playing outside and people were walking up and down the corridor again. He recognized Ginny and Hermione exchanging comments. He managed to isolate Mrs. Farrar's voice as she was arguing with some maids about the lamentable state of some rooms.

Harry got out of bed and rushed out, having first sheltered himself with his bedcover. Outside, stiff as a stork, stood Mrs. Farrar. She was looking down at him as if he was some lost soul that wandered out of cavemen civilisation.

"Mr. Potter!" growled Mrs. Farrar.

Ginny and Hermione walked back, having heard the spiteful tone of the head governess directed at Harry. The two girls gently laughed when understanding what was happening and told Harry it would be more proper if he put some pants on before getting out of his room.

"Did you see the shadow?" said Harry.

"What shadow?" answered Ginny.

Harry, realizing how stupid he must look, quickly went back into his room to dress up. He was too obsessed by the voice to notice how nice his new clothes were and how dashing he looked dressed in white.

"I forgot to tell you," Harry said coming out of his room, "there's some kind of shadow that's been going after me and telling me to remember."

The two girls kept looking at him, without responding, so did Mrs. Farrar and the two maids. Harry gathered that something about his appearance was wrong, but what?

"Why are you dressed in white?" said Hermione.

"I grabbed the first things I saw. Never mind about that. I am telling you, there is a shadow that constantly tells me to remember."

"Remember?" repeated Ginny, unsure of what he meant.

"It's a long story. I better start from the beginning."

Harry and his two friends made their way towards the kitchen. He gave them as much details as he could about the strange apparition. Neither Ginny nor Hermione doubted the veracity of what had happened, which was a breath of fresh air for Harry who had, all these years before, to defend himself every time something strange happened to him.

"And you say that your scar didn't hurt when you saw the shadow?" said Hermione.

"No. It's the oddest thing. My scar feels dead. I almost miss the pain; at least I knew what Voldemort was thinking or feeling and could tell if he was close."

"You don't think this means…" Ginny said carefully.

"Of course not. Voldemort is still alive, trust me," Harry said decisively. "He must be hiding on the other side of the planet or be half asleep, building up some energy field around him. I don't why but my link with him has been severed."

"You think your scar is still working? I mean that if Voldemort was close to you, you would feel him."

"I think so Hermione," said Harry. "In fact, I'm sure of it. The link has not been severed."

"Well that settles it then. The shadow is a good omen," concluded Hermione. "We should talk to Professor McGonagall about this, maybe she will have an idea of what's going on."

"All right then, let's go find her." Harry said.

"We can't right now," said Ginny. "You should go back to your room and change. If I were you, I would put on a black robe, a black shirt and black pants… The Etats Generaux are about to start."

"What?" Harry said.

"Don't tell me you didn't read the pamphlet that was on your bed last night!" Hermione said with a tiny bit of outrage. "I put it there myself to make sure you would read it before going to sleep."

"No," Harry said. "I was going to read it this morning."

"There is this huge meeting about to start in the grand hall downstairs," explained Ginny.

"It's called the Etats Generaux," Hermione continued. "It comes from an old French custom where the King calls on all the different level of government to take part in an assembly. Prime Minister Weasley is hosting it. There will be at least one hundred wizards. The President of England himself will take part. You will be sitting at the front table, right next to Mr. Weasley."

"What front table? And what are the Etats Generaux again?" shouted Harry.

"Come on," Ginny said, taking Harry's hand. "We will explain as we go back to your room and you change into your most severe looking outfit."

When Harry came back out of his room, dressed as he was told, he found himself in the middle of organized chaos. Mrs. Weasley had ordered Mrs. Farrar to bring up Harry's breakfast and carry it in a tray so he would eat while making his way to the grand hall. The meeting was minutes away from starting and Mrs. Weasley did not want Harry to encounter more animosity by being late. There were enough wizards attending who wanted nothing less than to have his head delivered on a silver plate.

Harry sponged in as much information as possible while trying to pack all the nutrients that were offered to him. He felt strangely important, somewhat enjoying himself; he was like these high profile characters in so many movies. Hermione insisted on giving him the background history of Etats Generaux while Ginny kept interrupting, wanting to elaborate on what was to be expected of him.

Harry did not dare take sides; he kept eating and drinking while his eyes went from one girl to the next. The funniest of moment took place when Mrs. Farrar howled like a maniac for everyone to come to a halt. This muted the two girls so abruptly that neither remembered whose turn it was to interrupt the other. Mrs. Farrar pointed to the most horrible thing she had ever seen: a trace of raspberry jam was streaming down Harry's robe. She took out her wand and cleaned the mess not without giving Harry the "death should come and take you" look.

The grand hall was as stupendous as Hogwarts'. The doors had been kept opened under Mrs. Weasley's order who did not want Harry to embarrass himself by pushing on the large doors on an assembly already in session thus committing a breach of protocol. Harry walked straight ahead, following Ginny's advice not to look at anyone, until he reached the front table, which must have been a hundred feet away. As he walked, Harry tried to figure out how such an enormous hall could fit into the new Weasley's house.

"It's magically shrunk," Hermione answered occlumently and kept doing so with any other question Harry had.

Hermione was careful with her answers, aware that most wizards present were much better occlument than she or Harry was.

"Order! Order!" said Prime Minister Weasley, wanting to attract the attention to the front table and away from Harry.

Harry found an empty seat next to Mr. Weasley. He was about to sit when his eyes wondered around. A long circular line replaced the traditional rows of chairs. The ring was so huge Harry could not see past thirty wizards on each side of the table. There were so many different creatures, different robes and different ages he did not bother identify more than ten percent of them.

"I declare the Etats Generaux officially opened," Prime Minister Weasley said with simplicity but stance.

A series of short but complicated speeches spewed from all corners of the room. Harry understood that who ever was talking was following a precise order. "Protocol," mentally said Hermione who was seating next to Ginny and Ron about fifteen seats to the right of the table. The speeches were some form of introduction where different factions, not allies yet, wanted to bring forth their own agendas.

Harry took advantage of the trivial nature of the speeches in order to give the room a more thorough look. On Ginny's side, Professor McGonagall, sitting next to Hagrid, was smiling at him and whispering in Hagrid's ears that Harry was looking at them; this pleased the giant very much. Apparently, she was the only Hogwarts staff member present. On the other side, he recognized Professor Gauthierseen, Sined Rousseau and Viktor Krum. Sadly, he could not find any members of the order of the Phoenix though he was sure they were here somewhere. Right next to him at the front table sat a man wearing a tie, eyes fixed on the floor, obviously worried. Harry had no idea who he was.

"Now that most groups have been introduced, I invite the Prime Minister of Great Britain to speak. This is a precedent for wizards and their history. No one here can deny that the terrible events rocking the Wizarding community had worse consequences for humans."

An uproar of indignation rose from each corners of the room. It seemed that half of the attendees did not like the word human and would have rather used Muggle. Maybe it was the presence of a human next to the President of England's Magic Ministry that was so upsetting. As the roaring changed into screams, Harry felt profoundly enraged with all these people dismissing Mr. Weasley's cries for a return to order.

"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled.

He had stood up more as a reflex than as a deliberate action. He did not know what overcame him but he was standing and had ordered everyone to be silent. He held his hands on his back to prevent anyone from seeing them shake. He wanted to throw up as his fear of facing all these people increased; yet, he remained still, dead set on not losing respect by sitting down or excusing himself.

Harry's sudden burst had a soothing effect; it helped Prime Minister Weasley regain control of the room. Arthur Weasley proved his grandeur by feeling no ill towards Harry but gratefulness instead. He kept hoping that the young man would speak which is exactly what he did.

"We need to stop bickering about half blood, pure blood, Muggles and what ever other category some stupid wizard can come up with. This issue is precisely why we are suffering. Purity needs to become an obsolete term that will be looked upon as lousy period by further generations. As wizards, we have a fighting chance when facing our enemies since we too can use spells. Humans are at the mercy of whatever Voldemort throws at them!"

The word Voldemort generated a hurricane of hisses but Harry kept going. He raised his voice to its loudest and managed to impose silence; pausing would have meant losing focus.

"We need to consider that Voldemort is our enemy and not the person whose blood does not qualify as worthy. Voldemort is not some local lost soul trying to hurt its immediate neighbours. He has used hate between whoever has the purest blood to fuel a planetary war. We have to agree right now that this and this alone is our greatest enemy, not Voldemort, but magical racism. We need to acknowledge who are our allies, and right now, they are humans, half blood, pure blood, magical creature; they are anyone who understands including differences is the only way to evolve. If we do not join our forces, we are doomed. This war is real and deadly, everyone is fair game, from children to unicorns."

The silence was so thick an Andalusian Minotaur from the other end of the room was heard breathing: Minotaurs have the highest pitch when expulsing air from their lungs.

Harry got scared; he had no idea where to go from here. He was not an adult and had never faced so many people. His act of bravery had been good so far but the silence was too overpowering for him to gather his thoughts any longer.

Mr. Weasley put his right hand on Harry's shoulder, as a father would have. The pride emanating from Prime Minister Weasley was almost palpable. Turning his eyes towards the crowd, Arthur Weasley took over.

"Harry Potter was right to speak without asking permission. He was right to take the floor and sweep the rug under my feet, as humans would say. He was right because there are two things Harry Potter is that no one else here can be. He is Voldemort's nemesis and he is Voldemort's first real victim."

Prime Minister Weasley then turned to the person seating to his left. An extremely old witch grabbed a cane and took forever to stand. Harry did not know who the witch was but he knew she was the most important person present from all the "ahs" and "ohs" he heard echoing on the walls of the room. The witch remained mute for one minute, her presence alone commanded deep respect.

"I have seen it all and sadly, will keep seeing more," the witch said, looking at Harry. She smiled, almost winked at him, taking joy in being so anonymous to him. She turned back to the assembly and surreptitiously said; "well, there is something I haven't seen after all! Someone who has no idea who I am!"

Giggles started slowly but rapidly became a joyful burst of laughter. Harry, knowing he was the person behind the joke, looked at Hermione and Ginny who also had no idea who the old witch was. Once the laughter died down, the witch continued.

"I will then introduce myself. I am the oldest living creature. I was blessed with a magical power that has not been passed on to anyone else. Unlike so many of my peers, I cannot read minds, I cannot transform myself into a cat, I cannot fly a broom, I cannot even put a jinx on a fly that won't get out of my hair. I imagine that if I walked into a magic school, young wizards would be so unimpressed they would think I am there to sweep the floor."

Giggles populated the room, brining with them a well deserve release of tension.

"I have seen the twenty first of June, the summer equinox for those of you who have eaten ignorance for breakfast this morning, one thousand, three hundred and thirty two times so far. I have seen death pass by my window often but it only left a cake in the chimney for me to eat, as if I was not fat enough. Age, great age, ridiculously old age, does not make you wiser; it renders you cryptic, so much so that you end up refusing to communicate with anyone but yourself. I simply disappeared from society. I have been staying at my little country house, all alone for the past thousand years. Nothing would have made me break my solitude, nothing that is until now!"

The witch took a deep breath. Having been alone for so long, being the centre of attention of hundreds of people was a high mountain for her to climb. Harry wondered if she was just old or whether she was eternal. The witch must have heard him think since she answered his question.

"I am not eternal as some of you may thing. Within the past month alone, my physical body has aged the equivalent of what normal women go through between forty and ninety. I have been thirty-five years old for over a thousand years. Let me tell you, growing old stinks!"

The witch allowed laughter to persist for a minute before continuing.

"Harry Potter has no idea how right he is when saying that issues of blood purity are the least of our problems. My sudden physical downfall should not be interpreted as the end of the world but could be a sign of the end of magic as we know it."

The witch lost footing and nearly fell had it not been for Prime Minister Weasley who quickly caught her. Harry thought that every wizard present would come to the table to help but thankfully, the old witch raised her cane rapidly so that no one had time to leave his or her seat. Hooked on Prime Minister Weasley's arm, she went on.

"There is a silver lining. If magic disappears, we will finally be one splendid earthbound family of humans. In addition, it would not be catastrophic since humans have done a pretty good job so far. I can recall a time when we laughed at these poor humans who could not fly; now, they are flying a thousand times faster than we are. Yet, I don't think magic has given up. Magic is wiser than I am and much sneakier than any of you may think. It is a good omen that the Prime Minister of Great Britain is participating in our assembly. This is truly the strength of our endeavour. The dark wizard who is trying to get rid of impurity can only be served by those like him. We, blessed with compassion and enough intelligence not to segregate, made allies from such a variety of realms that victory may well be in our future."

The witch sat down under an explosion of applause. Harry saw tears on the cheeks of his closest friends as well as on faces of men and women who looked like anything but the type of person who would weep. Professor McGonagall was clapping away like a young teenage girl who had just met her first rock star. Harry felt good, so darn good.

A succession of tedious but important speeches followed: everyone had time to present a point of view that needed debating. It was not so much that some groups wanted to be excluded from the fighting but that roles had to be precisely determined. Protocol helped Prime Minister Weasley retain control of whose turn it was to speak and smoothed out dangerous moments between factions who wanted to win "the first to speak" battles. Had it not been for strict rules agreed by everyone ahead of time, governing such a huge assembly would have been an impossible task.

On two separate instances, Harry was so overwhelmed by anger he tried to jump on his feet to repeat his earlier improvise speech. Each time, he found himself screwed to his seat, incapable of opening his mouth. He knew someone was responsible for nailing him to his chair, but who? Communicating occlumently with Hermione, they searched the room inconspicuously: Hermione was in a far better position to spy being an unknown face in the group. It did not take long before Professor McGonagall sent a loud message to Hermione and Harry's minds; "it's me!"

"Why won't you let me speak?" Harry mentally replied.

"Because it is not the time Harry. Your first intervention was remarkable but right now, you have to remain quiet. There are many wizards here who did not have a chance to speak and even though what they say may upset you, it is important they be allowed to say it."

It was hard for Harry to disobey an order from McGonagall as she was proving herself as powerful as Dumbledore was but sadly, not as polite or humorous.

"Professor McGonagall is right Harry," Hermione thought. "What is being said is very important. You have to listen and get a hold on your rage. You don't know how important a detail may be. I am writing everything down."

Hermione reinvented herself as secretary of the assembly, which, Harry just noticed, had escaped Prime Minister Weasley's mind. Hermione had no less than three magic plumes in front of her, writing on three small notebooks: one detailing the words being said, one describing the mood and feelings of the person talking and the last, taking notes on any strange reactions that the intervention may cause.

The civilised exchanges lasted a good three hours; this pleased Prime Minister Weasley seeing that everyone was doing an excellent job. Then, the tone changed. Personal stories could no longer be put aside and a litany of cries darkened the atmosphere.

Horrid details were thrown to the floor with complete disregard for feelings such gruesome facts may instigate. It culminated until a large witch, with a heavy polish accent, started to cry as she describing how her sextuplets, all girls of hardly three years of age, died at the hands of Dementors while she was being forced to watch, held to the ground, by a white bearded Death Eater. Hermione and Harry simultaneously thought; "Greyback!"

The woman was uncaringly pushed aside as similar stories exploded one after the other. Compassion was impossible to achieve since the accounts turned into some pathetic circus where the best acrobat was the one who suffered more than the previous storyteller. From personal dramas, the crowd moved into raw numbers: villages and communities tried to top one another with who had suffered the most casualties.

Harry was disgusted by the bad turn this assembly had taken. He kept his head down, finding it unbearable to listen any longer. Suddenly, a loud voice came to life: it was so intense Harry did not distinguish whether he heard it through his ears of through his occlument mind.

"Millions! I have millions!"

Harry turned to his right and saw the disturbed face of the Prime Minister of Great Britain: he was biting his lips while sweats of fury rolled down his neck. Harry could sense how hard it was for him not to strangle everyone present since he truly was the one who suffered the most. Unlike the other number throwers in the room, the Prime Minister of Great Britain inspired a deep respect from Harry, touched by the fact that he was keeping his drama to himself, going as far as pretending to care for what he was hearing.

"Thee hundred and fifty two children died in the collapse of the Salem School of Witchcraft!"

What was bound to happen happened: a breach of protocol. A man got up from his seat and walked right in the middle of the circle: an action that had been strictly forbidden by Prime Minister Weasley. He was tall, black skin suggesting an African heritage, wearing a simple black robe.

"He is the Headmaster of Salem's School," Hermione mentally communicated to Harry.

"Calamities are rampant," the man continued, having achieved perfect silence in the room, being one of the important figures on the current Magic World stage. "Our tragedy at Salem is different: we were not destroyed by Dementors but by humans! Those warplanes knew exactly when and where to hit us. This attack was planned and information about our protection spells had to be divulged. Corruption of power, to the highest level of Muggle government, is the culprit."

The room went soundless; eyes were peered on the Prime Minister of Great Britain as if he had anything to do with what was going on in the United States. Harry wanted to shout at all the ignorant wizards, tell them how wrong they were but did not even had time to open his mouth : the Headmaster of Salem School relentlessly continued.

"I want to know who did this to us! I want to know who gave the order to drop the bombs! I want the President of the United-States to be accountable for her actions."

"I did nothing of the sort!"

Pandemonium ensued from the crowd, disgusted by the insurrection. Out of breathe from the running she had to do to get here; Margareth Tims came through the front doors like a roaring tiger. Her courage alone, showing up late and at this moment, commanded dignity from wizards she passed by.

The President of the United-States stopped two feet away from Salem's Headmaster and took his hand. The headmaster was utterly surprised since he did not expect a gesture of kindness from this woman. Margareth Tims looked around the room trying to make as many eye contacts as she could and spoke.

"I am the President of the United states. I am sorry to be so late but as you may understand, travelling is virtually impossible nowadays. To the Headmaster of Salem, I want to present my deepest sympathies. To the members of this assembly, I want to shout my loudest outrage as I share your hatred for the people responsible."

Some blemish reactions populated the hall but nothing that could not be handled by Prime Minister Weasley standing up and gesturing the crowd to be silent. Margareth Tims thanked Prime Minister Weasley with a respectful bow and carried on.

"I have not given any orders to attack Salem's School; I have not engaged one plane into any magical spaces. Power is not in my hands anymore. Three of the highest-ranking generals of the US army have launched a Coup against my administration. These traitors do not have absolute control, but they brought to their side two thirds of the army. These generals have taken upon themselves to engage the soldiers as they see fit, with or without my authorisation. They have bombarded Salem's School; they were responsible for yesterday's attack in the Atlantic. All levels of government in the United States are now involved in their own private and internal civil war!"

Chapter 15

avenging McGonagall

Harry and his "Harries", as Professor Gauthierseen wispily called them, found a private space to assemble around six in the afternoon. Thanks to Tonks, a secret meeting room was created within the barely finished Ministry of Magic standing only a mile away from the Weasley's. The news of the destruction of England's Ministry of Magic came as no surprise to the community; after all, it was the last one standing in the world. Prior, Prime Minister Weasley had ordered the evacuation of the building, which proved effective in saving everyone, but catastrophic for the construction and all its content. Most of the archives and magical objects that had been stored within its walls for centuries were obliterated.

"Why isn't anyone more upset about this?" Hermione said as they were making their way towards the new Ministry.

"Because Ron's father had the brilliant idea of calling on absorbers to stay in the vaults and archives rooms the minute he came to power," Lupin explained.

"What are absorbers?" asked Harry.

"Tiny magical silk worms. If you put enough of them in a room, they will retain all the information within. They accumulate images and can restore them on silk canvases. They are extraordinary creatures. We thought they were just a legend but it turned out Hagrid knew otherwise."

"They can read!" shouted Hermione.

"Of course not," said Gauthierseen, smiling. "They fix images in their silk. In some way, they take pictures. All you need is to put a moonlight stone in a room and everything in the surroundings will be stored. I mean everything: they are so tiny, they can walk between pages of books on shelves."

Hermione had many more questions but they had arrived at the new Ministry. An imposing building, free of style and architecture, a plain rectangular box hiding what seemed to be five floors. They were stopped at the gates due to new security measures. Harry did not feel annoyed that the young witch guarding the door, an Aurore from Asia of hardly seventeen years of age, did not recognize him. No matter what he said, she insisted that he and his group go through some sort of liquid door less then half an inch tall.

Harry stepped in front of the door, which grew to his exact size. It took some strength to walk through the viscous liquid that stuck to his clothes and face. If clearance was not obtained, the door would eject the person back. The poor soul would find itself covered with the thickest of slime, incapable of moving explained Ron, having read the specs from a document lying in his father's office.

"Good," said the Aurore looking at Luna who was the last one. "You're all clear."

"And wet," Luna said with some a bit of anger, which surprised Hermione and Harry who had never seen this side of her.

"Oh! I'm sorry," said the Aurore, "I'll fix that."

They were dry within one millionth of a second. This highly crafter spell was achieved without words or the use of a wand. Harry understood why the Ministry had hired such a young Aurore; she was just fantastic.

Tonks tried to lead the way to the third floor as fast as possible but had to stop every time a government worker passing by recognized Harry and demanded to shake the hand of the famous young man. Voldemort's celebrated nemesis did not mind, he knew how important these handshakes were for these people. Harry managed to keep the congratulations short, encouraged by the unimpressed looks of Tonks.

On the third floor, they ended up in the middle of a passageway that empty of doors and windows. Tonks faced the wall to her left, closed her eyes and, having made sure she got everyone's attention, said; "I need my space."

"Cool," Ron yelled, "a room of requirement!"

Lining up like good little soldiers, they went in one by one. Harry was last, unenthusiastic by this useless security measure. A simple door opening into a room would have sufficed; Tonks' room of requirement was obviously easy to find and hardly a secret. He counted no less than twelve government employees passing by, hearing loud and clear what the password was. Tonks was so proud of herself Harry thought it best to drop it and do as the others did.

"Good work Tonks," said Harry, hoping that she would not read the disapproving words hiding behind his mouth.

The group gathered around a long rectangular table, empty of papers or pencils. They each took a seat, allowing Professor McGonagall to sit at one end. Finally surrounded by people he trusted, Harry breathed easier. The only thorn on his side was Gauthierseen who remained a grey mystery.

"That's enough Harry," shouted McGonagall. "Professor Gauthierseen is good as gold, no need to be suspicious." Harry forgot how good an occlument Hogwarts' new headmistress was. In fact, most everyone present read his mind.

"If you want your doubts to be put to rest Harry," Gauthierseen said softly, "you should ask me what you want to know straight away. And in front of anyone here who may share your feelings towards me."

"How did you escape so easily when the boat was destroyed?" asked Harry.

"Oh yes, that!" said Professor Gauthierseen excited. "First, I have to apologize for not having paid better attention. I was lost in my mind, contemplating the sea. When I turned back to see what you were doing, it was already too late. Needless to say, as I fell in the water I tried to apparate back on the ship's deck but the broken pieces of the hull were pushing me down into the sea."

Gauthierseen took a sip of water he had created out of thin air before continuing.

"I contacted Viktor Krum, the night before we left, and asked him to follow us. I had also asked Margarrz, the famous Polish seer, to join Viktor. The man has the most amazing range for spreading his consciousness. The minute we reached the sea, Viktor followed deep under us, like a submarine if you like. Thanks to Margarrz, I remained in constant contact with Viktor's boat."

"A radar," said Luna proudly.

"What you mean is sonar," corrected Hermione. "It's a device used by boats to track what is going on in the sea."

"I guess that would be a good analogy, though it does not work with sound waves but pure magic."

Hermione was impressed by the professor's familiarity with such advanced human technology. She had given up teaching any basic scientific knowledge to fellow wizards who kept a disdain attitude regarding the subject. She was pleased to see that further discussions on other similar venues would be possible with Gauthierseen.

"So, using the seer as a focus point, I tapped into whatever was left of my mind and apparated right next to Margarrz. I knew the medium should not interfere with the spell: be it rocks, be it water or air, apparition spells always work if one focus on the where rather than on the how. Unfortunately, I was too deep into the sea to apparate back on the surface since I had lost the precise location where you and Hermione were."

"Are you satisfied Harry?" asked Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, I guess so."

"You guessing so is as good as a positive validation," Gauthierseen said, happily. "I think we should tackle today's agenda straight away since there is much to be discussed.

"Harry," said Professor McGonagall, looking deep into his eyes with all the severity and seriousness she could fashion. "You have to let us in on everything. I can assure you that there are no spies around our table. We need to know what you know."

"Even if there were spies," intervened Lupin, "whatever information they would bring back to Voldemort would be useless. There has been so much talking and so many exchanges in the past few days I doubt any secret worth keeping is still a secret."

"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Weasley preoccupied.

"I heard members in the grand hall talking about Horcruxes. I even heard witches discussing facts related to Harry's mother, notably that she had been found at the bottom of the stairs instead of next to him. Everything Harry told us is already out in the public domain. Let's not forget that before Mad-Eye showed up, Lorelei Stiar gathered a lot of information before escaping."

"I can't believe that," said Prime Minister Weasley. "That Stiar spilled everything to Voldemort is one thing, but to conclude that Voldemort allowed all this information to be distributed freely amongst his enemies is preposterous."

"Not so," said Lupin. "Voldemort had spies listening during the Etats Generaux; I'm convinced they were also there to do some propaganda. Horcruxes are associated with evil and associating Harry with them is one more one way to demonise him. Putting doubts surrounding what happened when Lilly saved Harry is also a way to undermined Harry, but more importantly, that he is halfblood."

"It doesn't matter anymore," said Gauthierseen. "What is important is what Harry has not yet revealed." Gauthierseen turned to Harry and wiped the smile off his face to mimic McGonagall's severe expression. "We still don't know what you and Dumbledore were doing the night he died. This much, at least, is unknown to Voldemort. We need to know what Horcruxe you were trying to find!"

Harry looked irritated at Hermione who lowered her head, knowing she had disappointed him. Only she and Ron knew this detail and Ron's look was sincere enough for Harry not to point the finger at him.

"Don't blame Hermione," Professor McGonagall said. "I read her mind during Albus' funeral and confronted her afterward. What happened to Albus was too far-reaching for me to ignore and accept your silence. I understand my rapport with you is different than with Albus. I cannot spare your feelings anymore Harry. People are dying. Albus' advice for secrecy was justified as long as he was able to control the consequences. He would be the first to rally as many friends as possible would he still be alive today. Either you tell us all you know; either I will extirpate it from your mind."

Harry was flabbergasted and so where others: never would have Dumbledore threaten him…

"HE WOULD HAVE THREATEN YOU!" shouted McGonagall, having read his mind. "Stop living as if you were still Voldemort's only enemy. You have to grow up Harry, and right now! I will ask you one more time. WE NEED TO KNOW HOW TO KILL VOLDEMORT. WHAT WAS THE HORCRUXE YOU AND ALBUS WERE TRYING TO FIND?"

Harry felt his mind invaded by burning swords piercing through his skull. The pain was so intense everyone around the table started to shout at McGonagall but she would not stop. Harry fought hard but the witch's powers were to strong for him; within seconds is resistance was dead. He started to tell everything that happened with Dumbledore over the past four years. It was a long and tedious process, framed into a strict chronological order by McGonagall.

The scene was unbearable as the young wizards were throwing spells at McGonagall while the old ones were caught between their desire to help Harry and their understanding of what McGonagall was doing. Fortunately, McGonagall stopped her cerebral invasion abruptly, just before Harry had reached the night when he and Dumbledore left Hogwarts.

Harry, as exhausted as he was, managed to look at McGonagall with such fury that Hogwarts' new headmistress closed her eyes suggesting a sentiment of regret. Silence ensued: Harry refused to speak. Minerva McGonagall raised her head slowly and was about to probe Harry's brain again when Gauthierseen intervened.

"Stop," shouted the green dressed wizard, pointing his wand at McGonagall. The two old wizards were equals, neither would win so McGonagall decided not to attempt anymore probing.

"I will not search your mind anymore Harry," she said. "It is crucial the information you're hiding is shared with us. No matter how strong you may think you are, and I have experienced first hand these stupendous talents of yours, there are far stronger wizards out there who will do far worse than probe your mind. By forcing this information out of you, I am saving you."

Harry let go of his anger. Professor McGonagall was as solid as always but her voice was coloured with a faint trembling, suggesting how hard it was for her to inflict pain on Harry. McGonagall paused, looked deeply into Harry's eyes and extended her right arm on the table. She opened her hand and waited for him to grab it. Harry, who was not under anyone's control anymore, slowly dragged his arm and put his hand into the old witch's. McGonagall squeezed his fingers with enough might to show how deeply touched she was but not enough to suggest that she was holding a grudge.

"No matter how many protection spells Tonks may have created, we know Voldemort's army is powerful enough to have found a way to infiltrate our meeting. Voldemort will know all he wanted to know and, at least, I am reassured he will not cause you permanent brain damage by extracting the information. It took great courage Harry for you to not kill me."

Everyone looked at each other, not completely sure of what they had heard. They felt a private matter had been touched upon; an issue only Harry and McGonagall were meant to understand.

Harry smiled and continued his story, leaving out no details. The mood was strangely relaxed when Harry reached the end of his tale with the locket and the secret note it contained. Harry repeated exactly what the note contained and especially who had written it: R.A.B.

A silence crept over the group, each member digesting the information they had been served. The three initials puzzled the most and it prompted conversations to start again. Theories flew from all sides but quickly turned into dead-ends as whatever name someone would come up with, someone else would raise an argument against it.

"We should forget about finding who this R.A.B is and concentrate on the Horcruxes themselves: the cup for instance. You say Dumbledore is sure Voldemort still have it?"

"Yes," said Harry. "I have been trying to find it since Professor Dumbledore's death but with little success. We, I mean Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville and I, thought they were in that shop Muggle magical shop in London I've told you about, but besides the dices, nothing."

Harry looked at the bemused faces staring at him and deduced that the topic of the dices needed clearing up. A quick retailing of the events, with the help of Luna and Neville, brought everyone to speed. Neville took the dices out of his pocket and put them on the table. Next to them, Harry put the dice he found in Gryffindor's house. Each member took the time to inspect the objects one by one.

"Eight dices all made of the same material," Lupin said.

"Can you check Tonks?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Tonks closed her eyes, tapped into her animanga nature and transformed into a tiny fruit fly. In her insect form, she used her highly sensitive tongue to inspect all sides of the dices. Satisfied, she reverted to her original shape and said; "you're wrong Lupin. Only the first seven dices are made of silver. Harry's dice is not made of another metal but I don't know what."

"Professor Grubbly-Plank," said Professor McGonagall. "She's the only one who would know."

"What about the seven dices then?" Ron said. "They must be important otherwise whoever wanted us to find them would not have gone to all that trouble."

"What trouble?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Making sure only a Muggle could find them," Hermione replied. "No one in the Wizarding community knows how to use the internet, let alone of its existence. Finding these dices required asking help from Muggles."

"Quite right Hermione," said the Shecks twins who had seen first hand what she was referring to.

"Are you suggesting that a Muggle hid the dices?" asked Lupin.

"It was Snape," Luna said, unaware of the bomb effect her revelation would have.

"SNAPE!" shouted Professor Gauthierseen.

Harry let Luna go over the details tying Snape to Ushia and to the wiccan shop. He then took the floor, wanting to prove his point but no matter what arguments he could phantom, Harry did not convince anyone that Snape was one hundred percent the culprit. The discussion leading nowhere, Professor McGonagall changed the agenda abruptly.

"The Horcruxes! We should create a search pattern so that we do not waste time. Where should we start?"

"Gaunt's house and Riddle estate," proposed Tonks.

"Very well, who wants to go?" said McGonagall.

"Us," said the Shecks twins simultaneously. "We spent quite a lot of time at Voldemort's hideaway some years ago while trailing Bellatrix Lestrange. She was spotted coming out of Gaunt's house, she had used it to create a shrine for Voldemort."

"A shrine," said Mrs. Weasley with disgust.

"The place was littered with bones and rotting flesh. She had been sacrificing animals and putting them around a giant size statue of Voldemort she created. Thankfully, we did not find any human bones though one carcass looked like that of a unicorn."

Mrs. Weasley considered the young wizards present still too young for such gruesome facts and looked sideways at the twins, telling them to step over any other finding of the same nature.

"We decided to inspect the surroundings more thoroughly instead of continuing chasing Bellatrix. We got pretty good at rummaging through Riddle's house without being noticed. If there is anything worth finding over there, we will find it."

"Fine," said McGonagall. "Who will try to find Nagini?"

"Tonks and I," Lupin said, knowing his partner would drool at the opportunity to settle an old score.

"How do you propose to do that?" Prime Minister Weasley asked.

"I am an animanga," Tonks said smiling.

"And werewolves are immune to snake bites," added Lupin.

Professor McGonagall approved with a smile and encouraged more exchanges on the topic of the unknown Horcruxe, the one from Godric Gryffindor. Right from the start, an agreement was reached regarding the sword in Hogwarts' headmaster office notably that it could not possibly be a Horcruxe. Prime Minister Weasley advised to reconvene on the matter of Gryffindor's artefacts once the Cup and Nagini were done deals. He was about to adjourn the meeting when Professor McGonagall spoke.

"Hogwarts is ready to receive students."

A shockwave rocked the group but little could be done to change Minerva McGonagall's mind. "It is important that every young wizard find a place in Hogwarts. All our efforts should focus on teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts and any other related magic that may help these youngsters fend for themselves."

"Why just young wizards?" asked Harry.

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry with such pride that a dim blue light emanated from her shoulders. "Just the spirit I was expecting. Harry is right. So very few wizards have experience with Defence Against the Dark Arts; special courses should be offered to anyone expressing a desire to do so. I have been increasing the size of the school, which can now host three times the number of students. I have already talked to Sined Rousseau who has promised to organize transfers of American students to Hogwarts since Shwanemum is too small to accommodate all of them."

"I wish you had discussed this with me ahead of time," Prime Minister Weasley said disappointed. "It is a big decision Minerva. I should have been informed."

"Nonsense Bill," McGonagall said with a patronizing tone. "You've got enough on your hands as it is. I hope we do not have to put you through what Harry went through in order to understand that you are not alone in this task. We'll all do what we can, and more."

"Well then," president Weasley continued with half a smile, having been gently reminded of how far his authority went. "Do tell dear headmistress, anything else I can do for you?"

"Of course, I want you to announce to the members of the Etats Generaux that Hogwarts is the official school for Defence Against the Darks Arts. Organizing world transfer of students will take some creative thinking but nonetheless, it must be done."

"Other schools will no be pleased," said Mrs. Weasley.

"I have already talked to Madame Maxim and she acquiesces. Again, if the news is introduced as a fact that is not up for discussion, we will be able to move much faster. I hope everyone here agrees with me that a centralized training facility is the way to go."

Prime Minister Weasley looked at everyone who approved with his or her heads.

"Quorum has been reached," said Prime Minister Weasley.

He stood up, as did all the other members, and gazed at each pair of eyes with the deepest respect. "This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning."

Cheers exploded from impressed members, expect Hermione who clapped in a murky way which caught Harry's attention. She looked at him and said mentally, knowing that excitement around her room was too high for anyone to notice, "Winston Churchill."

"What" replied Harry.

"Winston Churchill… during the second world war..."

"Oh yeah, I remember. So what?"

"That's what he said after the London blitz. Looks like President Weasley is stealing from other great prime minister."

"He's not stealing," mentally shouted Professor McGonagall who, once again, intruded in their private occlument conversation. Still clapping away with joy as if nothing had happened, she continued. "You are usually much clever than this Hermione. Think! What position did Churchill occupy during World War II?"

"Prime Minister of Great Britain," said Hermione.

"And the prime ministers of Great Britain have always received a visit from whom?"

"Whoever is in charge of England's Ministry of Magic."

"Now you know where Western Churchill got his inspiration."

Hermione almost laughed aloud. Harry, who somewhat got the idea of what had been discussed, needed more details, especially since this provoked Hermione's mind to race at the speed of light with conjectures. The meeting was adjourned and members walked away with minds filled with ideas.

The grounds surrounding the Ministry and Weasley House were used for private meetings between members of the Etats Generaux. Harry and his friends enjoyed the nice weather, slowly strolling towards the grand hall.

"Why was that so funny?" asked Harry to Hermione.

"It's one of Winston Churchill's famous quotes. Professor McGonagall hinted that Churchill's great phrases came from the Prime Minister of Magic, which is just unbelievable. If it were true, Churchill's historians would go nuts. This is hilarious."

"Why hilarious?" continued Harry.

"You need to work on your sense of humour Harry. All these pompous snobby historians would die if they found out. Though, come to think of it, maybe it's McGonagall who got the story backward and it was the Prime Minister of Magic who stole from Churchill. This is fascinating."

"You can write an article about it later in the Daily Prophet but for now, we have to hurry," said Ron, seeing that his two friends were lagging back.

The group was nearly in the house when Harry heard his name shouted from behind. Professor McGonagall ran after him, grabbing her dress in such a comical way that she almost looked normal. Professor Gauthierseen laughed aloud at Professor McGonagall before joining a crowd of attendees.

"Harry," said McGonagall out of breath. "I'm glad I caught up with you. You forgot this."

"The book on Horcruxes," Harry said, so surprised that he questioned its authenticity

"Can you believe that crap Gauthierseen tried to push on us," Professor McGonagall said winking.

Harry never heard McGonagall use word likes crap. He would have doubted her authenticity as well had she not burst out laughing, realizing what she had just said.

"What crap?" repeated Harry conniving.

"You were right Harry. Gauthierseen maybe good but he still took the bait. Why do you think I caused you so much pain earlier?"

"I don't understand."

Professor McGonagall looked around, made sure no one was listening and satisfied to see that everyone had disappeared in the grand hall, she went on.

"I needed Gauthierseen to believe that I would not hesitate to hurt you if I thought it necessary. I know Albus has always played fair with you Harry, that he would have never used you. Unfortunately, I cannot afford that luxury."

Professor McGonagall took some time before regaining her composure, first seeing the distraught in Harry's eyes then light as he started to understand she tortured him to impress Gauthierseen.

"I will play a much more mischievous and deceiving game than Albus. It is important that you know this. You will be faced with conundrums that you alone will be able to be judge and jury. There will be moments when I cannot explain my actions, even though they will put me against Magic itself and ready to be hanged. I do not want blind fate from you Harry, I want decisiveness! You may even have to go with the group and condemn me if the success of our operations depends on it. It is how I intent to fight Voldemort! Every word has to be coded; every thought has to be rearranged. We have been fooled so often in the past, we need to start fooling our enemies. From this moment on, we treat Gauthierseen as one of our sincerest ally and hide the fact that we know he is our worst enemy."

"How did you find out?"

"Your shoulder my dear boy."

"My what!" murmured Harry, completely lost.

"I went back to your house, or Sirius' if you want, after hearing what had happened with Molly. What scared me the most of what Bill told me was that the book on Horcruxes was still there. Call it feminine intuition; I knew I had to get it back. To make a long story short, I took the original and left a copy with tiny specks of gold on the cover. Later on, I asked Gauthierseen about the book and he told me that he did not have time to get it. Witch was a lie of course."

"Because of the magical gold dust?"

"Ah, that's just it. It was not magical at all. Simple, ordinary gold dust that stick to hands for a long time."

Harry's eyes widened when, looking over his shoulder, he suddenly understood the swindle. Gauthierseen put his hand on his shoulder to protect him when Professor McGonagall threatened to hurt him again. Gauthierseen's grip was so strong that he left some gold dust on his robe.

"Very good Harry," said Professor McGonagall. "You have to understand that besides myself, no one knows how important this book is, especially since you found it in that wiccan store. No one knows that is except Voldemort and his closest friends."

"Right…" said Harry. "When we got out of the house, I told everyone I forgot the book but no one cared."

"Not even Gauthierseen I'm sure."

"As a matter of fact, he did. He told me he would go back to get it."

"How clever of him! We have to thank the stupid Death Eater who transformed Walburga into a howling banshee. He, or she, made us a big favour."

"I don't understand," Harry said, sad to be so slow at figuring out the hints Professor McGonagall was throwing at him.

"The Death Eater did not put any protection spell on Walburga so other Death Eaters would be immunized. Just a plain banshee jinx, how stupid! Poor Gauthierseen was suffering like everyone else. Which is probably why he didn't go back straight away: he thought the book was safely guarded until he could get the counter spell from the Death Eater."

"Can I ask you a question," Harry said, fearing he was overstepping his boundaries.

"Of course Harry, you don't need to be afraid of me. Ask bluntly!"

"How did you get the book then?"

"These are the questions I want you to ask Harry. Always be a step ahead. I am an Amagus, I can transform into any living animal. It so happens a rare specie of green dragons living in Antarctica is completely deaf until the age of five; and I mean deaf. You should have seen Sirius' mother when I simply waltzed in there and took the book as if she did not exist. Although, there was something strange about her."

"What?"

"She was protected by very powerful magic. I tried some of my own and everything went straight through her. Only Voldemort himself could create such creature but since you scar did not hurt when you were in the house, it means that a Death Eater was responsible. I will have to think about it more and maybe go back to investigate but right now, all I can tell you is my intuition tells me that maybe there is something unmagical there."

"What do you mean unmagical?"

Harry had many more questions prepared but Hermione had stepped out of the house to come fetch them since Prime Minister Weasley was already sitting at the front table. Intelligently, Professor McGonagall walked in first, leaving Harry to enter with Hermione as to not raise Gauthierseen's suspicions.

Harry's mind was miles away from the content of the closing statements. His wandering eyes warranted him a vicious look from Hermione who felt he should at least look like he was paying attention; after all, he was next to Prime Minister Weasley.

Harry did not care, he was too preoccupied, trying to fit together all the pieces of information the new headmistress presented him. Besides, Hermione's plumes were madly writing away everything being said. When his eyes fell on Professor McGonagall, he received an occlument slap in the brain; "Potter! Pay attention. Everyone's looking at you. If you look bad, I look bad!"

Harry allowed himself to feel anger and disappointments at the same time, which were exactly the emotions McGonagall hoped to steer from him since Gauthierseen kept a close watch on them both. Prime Minister Weasley ended his speech with praises for everyone present and that great things were accomplished: an international group of expert wizards had established new means of communications, special black swans from Turkey were bred in enough quantity to replace owls for long distance letters. More resistant, equipped with sharp teeth and claws, these swans proved deadly when attacked. Not to say owls were obsolete but their postal range had been greatly downscaled.

A special team of the most advanced wizards was selected amongst the best that any country could offer. These wizards and witches, thirteen in total, would work in a special laboratory carved within solid rocks underneath the Ministry building.

Prime Minister Weasley stressed the importance of creating an offence as well as solidifying the defence. From now on, Aurores will be expected to train every day and pass through series of gruelling tests. The team of thirteen wizards would get any help they desired, even if this meant for Aurores to become guinea pigs for validating newly invented spells. If Voldemort were expected to fight back, these new spells would at least surprise Dementors and Death Eaters.

Later on that night, alone in his bed, Harry smiled and silently thanked Mrs. Weasley for the gift she left in his room. The wife of the President of England Ministry of Magic magically replaced the ceiling with a universe where stars were shinning dimly and comets danced near the moon.

Chapter 16

illustrious Professor Phosphoros

The first two weeks of August passed by swiftly. There was so much to do Harry scarcely had time to gather his thoughts and figure out whether he should take Professor McGonagall's advice and help with Defence Against the Dark Arts training or continue his search for Horcruxes. Getting encouraging reports from the Shecks twins and the Lupin/Tonks team, he opted to stay at Hogwarts.

The other positive point was the lack of Dementors and Death Eaters attacks. Harry knew this amounted to a false sense of security but from where he was standing, any truce, be it a fake one, was good enough for him. Harry's cool demeanour on the morning of their departure for Hogwarts did not sit well with everyone at the Weasleys.

"You think it's good news," said Ron, looking for his old books.

Harry's smile turned to grey. He realised he had been on vacation mode and it was time to reclaim his serious side.

"No I don't," Harry said decisively. "He's preparing something but I don't know what."

"My dad says he hasn't heard of any new casualties since the last two weeks," added Hermione who, as usual, was packed and ready.

"Well I don't know about you to, but I think it's a decoy. Voldemort is preparing to blow us all to pieces with a huge attack," said Ginny, sitting last in the flying limousine his father reserved for them.

The trip to London's Central Station was a silent one. Making his way into the maze of corridors and stairs leading to platform nine and three-quarters, Harry mentally paused to appreciate how far he had come. If in previous years this moment gave him goose bumps of excitement, right now it was the normalcy of the endeavour that impressed him.

He blamed Voldemort for his blasé attitude. Had he been able to simply go to school and grow within the Magical World, departing for Hogwarts would still be exhilarating. At least, he thought, Ginny was here. She handed them small roses with the instructions to pin them on their robe's lapel. Older and a bit wiser, none of the wizards questioned how they would look and obeyed with gratitude. Ginny stepped back and smiled at the trio, looking more united than ever. Nothing like a badge to scream to the world a private society was near by.

"What does it do?" asked Ron, expecting the roses to have some magical property.

"Not everything has to do with magic," Hermione responded.

"But it usually does," Ginny said with a smile. "Mom woke up before dawn to handpick these. She said she had been growing them for years and that they can only be cut at sunrise the day after they bloomed. These four roses came from the same stem so if one of them looses a petal, the others will use one as well."

"Nice," Harry said. "So we're linked somehow."

"We've always been linked Harry," Hermione said.

"But if we're not wearing our robes all the time, these won't be much help. Besides, why would it lose its petal?" Ron said.

"I don't know how it works," Ginny answered. "Mom just told me what I should do with them. I was already late so she had not time to tell me the rest."

They had a bit of a surprise waiting for them on platform nine and three-quarters, it was augmented by two more platforms: platform nine and two-quarters and platform nine and one-quarter. Each new platform had a Hogwarts Express waiting in front of it where a sea of students was trying to figure out which one their tickets referred to. The variety of faces, skin colours, and ages had the four friends walk slower than usual, appreciating the diversity found in both worlds, magical and human.

"What are these?" Ron said, pointing at pale face wizards whose skins were so faint they were almost translucent.

"I think they're Ice Witches." Hermione said. "McGonagall was not lying when she said she wanted Hogwarts to become the first magical school in the world."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Ice witches come from the South Pole. They follow the earth's magnetic pole. It must have taken some convincing to have them leave their home to study at Hogwarts."

"Why are there only witches? Where are the Ice wizards?" Ron asked.

"There's only one wizard born every tenth year or so. It's a harem…" Hermione said with a smirk on her face.

"Blimey!" Ron gawked.

The journey to Hogwarts was uneventful. They sat in the last compartment of the last train. This trip should to be anonymous once Harry hoped.

Hermione offered to get some juices since no one thought of increasing the number of employees though the train had grown by six wagons. They had been chatting for fifteen minutes when Harry wondered what took Hermione so long. He went to see what the problem was.

On the third wagon, Harry stopped and hid behind a curtain: hysterical young wizards with pencils and notepads were mauling Hermione. Harry could not help but laugh, understanding perfectly what was happening. Hermione was famous.

"Harry Potter," shouted Hermione who occlumently heard him laugh of her predicament.

She hoped that saying Harry's name would steer fans in his direction but to her surprise, only a quarter of them rushed over. Hermione put her signature on as many notepads as she could but froze when handed the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. A four-page article was devoted to her; including pictures of herself she had never seen. She kept the journal, took the young wizard's arm, who handed her the paper, and signed her name directly on his skin.

From the corner of her eye, she saw more wizards coming her way from the other wagons. Overwhelmed, she decided to get creative. With a flick of her wand, Hermione created hundred of plumes that flew in search on notepads to be autographed. It was basic magic for Hermione but not to her young fans, it was brilliant stuff. Once everyone had been served, she used her most authoritative tone and ordered them to go back to their seats.

"Can I have your autograph Miss Granger," Harry said, running towards her as if he was about to die if she said no.

"Enough Harry."

Walking back to their compartment, Hermione had her eyes glued on the article but kept her nose respectfully up, pretending she didn't care. The article went on for many more pages with similar biographical and pictorial details about Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville.

Ron and Ginny were somewhat pleased of what was said about them in the Daily Prophet. Ron, who tasted fame two years ago as a somewhat Quidditch star, did not salivate at the possibility of being hunted down again. Ginny, on the other hand, was more than excited: the youngest of the Weasley family, she never touched fame or was always last to be noticed.

Three hours later, they had arrived. The brand-new Hogwarts was impossible to describe. Returning students had the opportunity to see it in all its splendour since the Hogwarts Express exceptionally arrived in the afternoon, allowing sunlight to bask the school. The grounds were buzzing with people of all shapes and sizes. Harry and his friends did not linger and went directly to Gryffindor's dormitory. Something was wrong: at the top of the stairs, the portrait of the Fat Lady was gone.

"It has to be here somewhere," shouted Ron.

"What's the password?"

An armour from the middle ages had just spoken. Its pieces of metal were so rusty it kept threatening to crumble. The wizards giggled so pathetic the armour was but only for a few seconds since the missing Fat Lady was still a serious matter to clear up.

"Where is the Fat Lady?" Harry asked.

"No more," succinctly said the armour.

Only then did the four friends notice how many paintings were missing from the walls surrounding the staircases. The few remaining had all been damaged. As they peeked over to other Hufflepuff and Slytherin entrances, they understood how armours were now serving as password holder.

"We'll find out what happened to the Fat Lady later," Harry said.

"We don't have a password yet," Ginny said to the armour. "Let us in!"

"You cannot command them."

Nearly Headless Nick, the flying ghost, came down from the ceiling to greet the four wizards.

"Nearly Headless Nick!" shouted Hermione. "We're so glad to see you. What happened to you? We didn't see you last time we were here. We thought you had been killed in the attack."

"What a confounding idea!" replied Nearly Headless Nick. "Unless your deductive talents have been handicapped, I have to inform you that as a ghost I cannot be killed nor can I die!"

Hermione's face was so red with shame that Ron stepped in front to protect her from Nearly Headless Nick's defying eyes.

"Do you know what the password is?" Ron said.

"Horcruxe."

The four wizards considered Nearly Headless Nick attempted at humour bad to say to least but the armour stepped aside and the door opened. Harry went in first, threw himself on a chair in the common room and gazed on the already lit fire. The others did the same, feeling they had all the time in the world to go find their beds and empty their bags into their dressers.

"Who came up with that password?" Ron said.

"It's a lottery," Hermione replied automatically.

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny.

"There is a jar in the headmaster office containing all the words. The headmaster asks the ghosts to put their hand in and pick a word. The ghost then whispers it to the portrait guarding the houses or in our case, the armour."

"It can't be a coincidence," Harry said, his mind drifting. "What are the chances of our house getting Horcruxe for password?"

Loud noises coming from downstairs startled them. Ginny, being the closest to the window, got up and leaned over the edge to get a better view. The sigh of quiet desperation she uttered told the others that the situation was dire but not life threatening.

"Come on! We'd better go help," Ginny said.

"Is it bad?" Ron said, not wanting to leave the comfort of his seat.

"Let's put it this way. If we don't take charge of at least a hundred students each, half of them will sleep outside on the grass tonight. I wonder why McGonagall didn't hire more teachers? It's not like there is a shortage of unemployed ones these days."

They rushed out, hearing the shouts and screams intensify. From their high position on the top of the staircase, they saw other Hogwarts seventh year taking matters into their own hands. Professor McGonagall, floating in the middle of the entry hall, seemed overwhelmed.

Harry went directly outside and paused on top of the hill to get his bearings: the sheer mass of students running around like chickens with their heads cut off would have terrified anyone wanting to sort things out. The chaos had one good consequence: Harry was not recognized by hundred of screaming fans, too busy to find what they else to do besides crying to the lost soul next to them.

It took about half an hour for order to reassert itself and for students to be organized in long lines. Other seventh years imposed a military step on their group but Harry, knowing it was just for show, simply used his hands to direct his group into the Great Hall where the Hat had already started the sorting. Ravenclaws seemed to get the biggest lot of new students while Slytherins were wandering why they were getting so few. Hogwarts' returning students welcomed with cheers brilliantly looking new students while shabby ones received an icy silence.

Professor McGonagall was absent for the sorting: she organized the adults in the new East wing. She enlisted Hagrid as her personal bodyguard in case she could not control the mayhem bound to occur. She instructed Hagrid to stay in one place, fully visible from everyone, and scan the room with his cruellest look to, making certain no one would notice his handicapping blindness.

Hagrid's astute ears proved highly effective in directing his gaze towards unruly groups who would shake with fear once the giant yelled; "shut up!" Hagrid's deep baritone voice echoed through the stone as if it was an earthquake. Once registration was over, the adults returned to their hotel rooms or rooms friend had agreed to let them use. Before the day was over, the population of Hogwarts, and its surroundings cities, had grown three hundred percent.

By eight in the evening, all new students had been introduced to their Houses and dormitories, had a bed and a small bureau to stuff the limited amount of clothes they were permitted to bring. Students proceeded back down to the Great Hall for speeches and introduction from staff. If the new faces could not get over the magnificent warm glow produced by thousands of candles floating above their heads, returning students were amazed by how McGonagall managed to triple the size of the hall.

Language issues had been dealt with earlier. Hogwarts' headmistress selected three members from each House to join her in her office around seven. Harry, Hermione and Ron represented Gryffindor. The headmistress told them to form a circle around a round stone table on which stood twelve glasses filled with a glowing violet potion.

"Harry, you will start," McGonagall said, handing him a cup.

"What is it?"

She did not answer, she simply pushed the cup on his lips. He was disappointed by the absence of magical side effects: nothing new about his physical appearance or his mental state. The others had the same unimpressed expression as they too had hoped for something special like wings growing out of their backs.

Professor McGonagall told an eleven-year-old girl to come out form hiding behind a curtain. The terrified child approached and stayed in front of the headmistress who winked to help alleviate her fears. The little girl started to talk and ask questions as she had been instructed. Harry answered everything, unaware of what exactly he was supposed to notice. The surprise looks on faces around him was a dead giveaway of what was happening.

"Harry!" said Hermione bewildered. "You understand Italian!"

"I did not have time to check English proficiency for each new applicant," McGonagall explained. "This will be your task. I want each of you to find those that do not speak English within your respective Houses. I have made more translating potions; they are in the black velvet bag beside the door as you go out. You will give the potion to any student you deem necessary. Dismissed!"

Harry thought the dismissal order a bit over the top but understood how Professor McGonagall needed to establish her new role as headmistress in front of strong-headed seventh years.

In the Great Hall, once everyone was seated, Professor McGonagall waited for each of her magical translator to nod from the head, reassuring her that all foreign language students had been given the potion. The headmistress stood up, walked ceremoniously to the front of teachers sitting at the table and surveyed the room in perfect before speaking.

"Welcome to all. This year is a special year."

McGonagall paused and smiled at some students here and frowned at others who forgot to remain quiet. Her pleasing features disappeared to make space for severe ones.

"All efforts will be spent learning Defence Against the Dark Arts. Each newcomer will be assigned a mentor from his or her house. The mentor will be responsible to ease the transition from previous schools and help with any problem a newcomer may have. As far as school curriculum is concerned, the following courses will not be taught: history of magic, divination and magical creatures. There will be no marks, no point system four houses and no distraction from sports practicing of any sort. Hogwarts has one goal this term: help each of you stay alive."

Harry noticed the gloom on familiar faces close to him, some literally sinking into darkness. He considered McGonagall had gone too far, especially about the forbidding of sports and recreations. This meant no Quidditch. Hermione also frowned; disapproving the use of threats at this moment where moral was at its lowest.

"As older students may have told you, the House system at Hogwarts is not to be tempered with. Even tough points will not be rewarded, any student bringing shame to his or her House will be severely punished."

McGonagall held another long silence, making sure the effect she had been hoping for could be seen on new faces as well as old ones.

"You will meet your teachers as you start your classes. Each teacher has been assigned a specific field according to their highest area of expertise. Be assured that these witches and wizards are more than qualified; questioning their abilities is not only a waste of time but illegal. Defence Against the Dark Arts will be under the supervision of a head of department. I take this opportunity to introduce a new professor who will have final say on any litigious matters. This professor will also be in charge of the newly created laboratory for more advance students."

Harry looked at Hermione flabbergasted; he had hoped to be in charge of teaching advance students. Hermione, who read his mind, did not reprimand him for is inflated ego since she assumed a similar venue. With the terrible history Hogwarts had with its professors teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, introducing another one seemed a catastrophe waiting to happen.

The doors of the Great Hall opened and a magnificent creature appeared. It had a human shape, two arms, and a head, but its height was twice that of the tallest wizard. Its face had two eyes and a mouth but the absence of nose frightened Harry, reminding him of Voldemort's most distinctive feature. He could not tell if it was male or female; its long blue hair floated in some magical wind while its white dress swirled as if caught in troubled water. It did not walk but floated three inches off the floor. The oversized blue eyes looked dead ahead, making no contact, not even Harry.

"Let me introduce Professor Phosphoros," McGonagall said, unashamed to show how pride she was of herself. "Professor Phosphoros is a Minoan from the ancient Minoan brotherhood; it is neither male nor female. You will abstain from using sir or madam; you will only always address it as Professor Phosphoros."

This striking creature stood next to McGonagall who greeted it with a handshake. Harry's bruised ego was cured so stunning the glow emanating from the new professor was. He felt good about the professor in charge of teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"I can't believe it!" said Hermione, walking over to Harry.

"Ever heard of the Minoan Brotherhood?" Harry asked.

"I thought they were all dead. There is almost nothing about them in books I've read. One line here and there, not even paragraph. Minoans date back to ancient Greece, that's all we know. I'll definitely go to the library tonight."

"Professor Phosphoros might be the best thing that happened to Hogwarts," Harry said.

"Unbelievable..." whispered Ginny who had joined them. "I knew McGonagall had some new tricks up her sleeves. You should be ashamed Harry."

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

"You've been less then enthusiastic since she got the headmistress position. None of us expected she would find anyone crazy enough to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

"Big improvement from Snape," yelled Ron. "She is so tall though, or he is so tall… I don't think the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom is big enough! "

"I'm sure McGonagall already thought about it," Harry said.

Chapter 17

last sacrifices

September snooped in like a thief in the night. Harry and his friends had been so busy they felt as if nothing had changed with previous academic years. Though they were not crumbling under home works and readings, tutoring large groups of untrained wizards proved to be tiresome. To top it all, they were expected to spend a daily three hours in the lab, attempting to practice dangerous new spells. Phosphoros himself put his life in jeopardy on more than one occasion.

Harry spent a total of two hours alone with Ginny who, like him, was running morning until evening to get half done what she had planned to do the day before. Still, the relationship did not suffer; Ginny often chased Harry down the corridors to give him an ephemerons kiss or receive a soothing one. On this evening of the first of October, they managed to be in the same place at the same time and alone.

"You look so tired Harry," Ginny said, seating on the warm grass.

"I could say the same about you."

"It's hard to explain but even though I'm exhausted, I feel good. I would not trade a minute of it for anything else."

"I know what you mean. I think we're suffering from serious feelings of accomplishment."

"That's it!" she shouted, "serious feelings of accomplishment! Doesn't sound like one of the things you'd say."

"Of course not, it's Hermione's."

"I think the last time I saw her was five days ago. And to think we sleep in the same room."

"I see her and Ron every day in the lab. Ron is turning out to be Phosphoros' favourite guinea pig; he always ends up with a bruise or a burn."

"I know, he told me," Ginny said, smiling.

Silence fell on the two lovers; Ginny put her head on Harry's shoulder and closed her eyes to appreciate fully the caresses. No matter how she tried to savour the moment, she could not avoid the sensation that her Harry was more troubled than usual: she did not need to be an occlument to experience his distraught.

"What is it Harry?"

"I can't hide anything from you! Can I?"

"Well not the important stuff."

"I know there is something wrong with the Shecks twins. I can't stop thinking about them. I have sent Hedwig to look for them everywhere but nothing. If only your father would give me some details, he must know more than me."

"Say no more. My mom sends me a letter every morning and she expects one back within minutes. I will mention it to her tomorrow."

The evening glided slowly over Hogwarts. Harry felt great pride at how exemplary Ginny had proven herself in teaching jinxes to foreign students. They were not only the hottest couple in Hogwarts; they were The power couple. Ginny too was proud of Harry's innate talents for mentoring which fuelled jealousy in other seventh year who were not part of Phosphoros' select group. Harry could not be bothered; he knew that each time a student failed a counter spell, that student was putting his future life at risk.

The advanced classes of Professor Phosphoros were attended in such numbers that if one did not get there fifteen minutes early, there would be no desk to sit. Every seventh year and at least half of the sixth years had been granted free access to the new style of teaching the professor called master class. Hogwarts' was becoming like a university. There was so much new stuff to learn Harry felt he had only scratched the surface of Defense Against the Dark Arts; a humbling experience for him who, only weeks ago, believed he was going to be in charge of teaching it.

Hermione kept adding students to their special group. It naturally happened that during the first class, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna and Neville sat together in the right corner of the room, closest to the front. This space became the most coveted spot in the room and worth fighting for by other students. Even the jealous ones could not evade the fact that the front right corner had the highest concentration of talent.

Harry's friends were topping themselves every day. Neville turned out to be an expert in finding magical cures and jinxes naturally hidden in plants. He corrected Phosphoros on more than one occasion, proposing a better-suited root or a faster acting leaf. Consecration came the day the great Hermione Granger asked Neville to go over her list of plants needed for the suffoc spell. She had not yet mastered choking an opponent by taking the air out of the room, unlike Neville who did it with his eyes closed.

Luna's uncanny ability to express no emotions in public and her "logical" interventions in class, which Phosphoros publicly saluted as astute, was attracting young wizards and witches. Still too afraid and too young to deal with uncaring tutors like those found in Slytherin's, these wizards in training found Luna's teaching style unthreatening. Hermione herself was lacking in that department: she could easily jump from the nicest encouragement to do most blatant insults within seconds. Luna's voice never changed.

Ron was the physical wizard. Professor Phosphoros insisted that physical force was as important as mental focus when using what he called heavy spells. Ron became Phosphoros' favourite; it was Ron he called upon when it was time to put to practice what had been learned. The professor noticed early on how fearless of pain Ron was; he often used him, as a visual reminder, of what one was expected to endure, be it the worst of pain, if a spell demanded it. After each lesson, Hermione, who had given up on telling him to be careful, treated Ron's daily bruises. On a particularly injury filled day, Harry laughed when Hermione discussed a spell with him while having her wand treat Ron's laceration as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Hermione and Ron's relationship was as strong as his and Ginny.

Harry's natural talents, his newfound intuition and his occlument powers, were asserting themselves every day. Professor Phosphoros invested many private hours with him, knowing how central his role was in the success of winning the war brooding over the horizon.

The first class of October attracted an unusually large amount of students. Professor Phosphoros advertised that during this lesson wizards would die. This was enough to draw onlookers who, for some reason, had not found it imperative to sit through any of Phosphoros classes. Harry blamed this lack of judgement on McGonagall who instituted freedom to learn for everyone. Harry and his group were more than annoyed by all the new idiots showing up, just for the fun. Phosphoros, as usual, was unaffected with what Hermione called paparazzi.

"Of course… no one is going to die per say," Professor Phosphoros announced. "I have created mirror images of registered students. I'm afraid others will simply have to watch. This mirror image will have to be killed; not hurt, not incapacitated, dead! One word of advice: the mirror-self is as real as you are, do not consider it a mere reflection, it has sentient and will want to remain alive!"

An army of wizards came out from hiding in an antechamber. Harry was faced with another Harry Potter as Hermione was faced with another Hermione and so. Following orders from their professor, registered students moved to the front of the class to face their mirror-self. Phosphoros snapped his fingers and another Phosphoros flew into the room. The two gigantic blue haired creatures were stunning to watch, performing a gruesome ballet of death. Everyone held his or her breath, it was impossible to tell which was the mirror-self, which was the killer. One of the Phosphoros took out his wand, pushed it forward with what everyone now knew as "physical determination" shouted: Avadu Kedavra.

"I can't believe it," uttered Ron once the mirror-self wizard lay breathless on the ground. "This is what you want us to learn today! The abominable curse!"

"Oh but I do not only want you to learn it, Mr. Weasley, I want you to use it, and right now."

Phosphoros ordered everyone to line up and stand next to his or her mirror-self. The practicing went on all morning, each student performing the curse in front of the class and under to watchful eyes and fierce comments of Phosphoros. After three unsuccessful attempts, the professor killed the mirror-self and sent the wizard back to his or her seat.

The students achieved nothing if embarrassment, the mirror-self turned out to be too real and they kept begging the professor to spare its life. Phosphoros, who had no time for childish lack of control, handled these emotional students with abject dismissal. Phosphoros' cruelty had one good outcome, from one wizard to the next real progress was being made. After an hour and a half, though no one succeeded in killing its mirror-self, no one was begged for mercy anymore.

Ron showed the most promising: his mirror-self fell to the floor on his second attempt. Professor Phosphoros congratulated him and explained how Ron needed to put more physical force in his wand as if he was about to punch someone with the intention to break more than a nose. Ron's third attempt fractured the frontal skull of the mirror-self, but still, no death. Harry too exceeded expectation in making his mirror-self flew off twenty feet and hit the wall. Sadly, like Ron, it did not die but simply lay on the floor until Phosphoros destroyed it.

The surprise came from Hermione. Unlike others who concentrated on what they were seeing, Hermione processed every comments Phosphoros made while trying to help the others. She did not try anything at first but carefully looked at her mirror-self for what seemed an eternity. Using his legendary pedagogic intuition, Phosphors told Hermione what she needed. The blue haired creature floated over to Hermione, put its hand under her chin so she would look directly into its eyes and said; "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few…"

Hermione stared at her mirror-self, raised her wand and remained still even though the mirror-self screamed to be spared, running around in all directions. She cornered the mirror-self behind a desk. It fell to its knees, begging, eyes red with tears. Hermione raised her wand, pointed it at the heart of the victim and murmured: "Avadu Kedavra." The mirror-self grabbed its chest, looked up at her killer for three seconds and fell lifeless to the ground.

"Miss Granger," said Phosphoros steadily, "please come and stand next to me." Turning to the class, dead silent from the gruesome show, the Professor continued. "I know why Miss Granger succeeded and hopefully, she can tell you herself."

Phosphoros turned towards Hermione so she would face him. She had to twist her neck backward in a painful position just to meet the tall wizard's eyes.

"Tell the class about yourself Miss Granger. Be as personal as you can, do not hold back, let go of your natural prudery, unbecoming to someone of your rank. If you want to help others achieve as you have, if you want them to kill before they are killed, you need to do more than tell them; you need to make they feel!"

Professor Phosphoros addressed the crowd before Hermione had time to open her mouth.

"Not counting myself, Hermione Granger is the only person here who has complete disregard for life."

Harry was dismayed by the resentful assertion and stood up at once, ready to defend Hermione's honour. Professor Phosphoros raised its right hand and paralyzed everyone. Hermione remained cold, unaffected by Phosphoros last trick.

"Miss Granger, if you please."

"It's true; I didn't care for the life of my mirror-self."

"What Miss Granger is trying to say is that when time comes to destroy one life to save those of many, she is blessed with complete disregard for the life she is about to destroy. I suspect Miss Granger's upbringing and her family history has something to do with it."

Hermione chronicled her life story like never before. She gave detailed accounts of how her ancestors, first being powerful landowners then enlightened aristocrats ruling over thousands of people, were often forced to kill in order to save. Hermione grew up with numerous tails of Grangers who had to execute in order to protect those they governed. This instinct was transmitted down to her who, up until this moment, had not grasped she could so easily kill a person begging for his or her life.

Harry's mind was occupied for the rest of the afternoon; all he could think was how cold Hermione stayed during the killing. The explanations given during the morning session did not convince him; he needed to confront his dearest friend face-to-face. She avoided him all day until Harry found her in front of the fire in Gryffindor's common room at eleven that evening.

"I need to understand Hermione!"

"You mean how can I be so cruel? How can I kill a crying girl so easily? Or what you really want to know is how I am a better killer than you!"

Hermione put in words what bothered Harry all day. This was the truth he did not want to face. He always doubted his murdering capabilities: no matter how hard he tried to kill Voldemort, part of his heart was never completely in it. Maybe this was the reason why he felt a strange connection with Draco who, like him, could not kill Dumbledore tough he was expected to.

"Well," shouted Hermione, "say something!"

"You're right… you are a better killer. I spent the afternoon thinking I hated you for being so cold performing the spell, like you had turned into some monster well in fact…"

"In fact what Harry?" Hermione said, hoping Harry would finish his sentence.

"I don't know how to say this Hermione…"

"You don't have to spare me Harry."

"It's not about you, it's about me… I think I could have killed Voldemort back in the graveyard two years ago. I wanted him to die so bad, at least that's what I remember, but now I am not so sure."

"Maybe you got diverted by your emotions."

"What?"

"Maybe you got comfortable with hating Voldemort. You got caught in your feelings because they were so strong."

Harry's eyes were fixed on the floor, not comprehending what Hermione hinted. With a nicer voice, Hermione confided in him.

"As far as I can tell from what happened this afternoon, emotions had nothing to do with it. I did not feel or desire to kill: I decided to kill. It was a decision and nothing else. Phosphoros words resonated in me; it knew exactly what it was doing when he told me the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. The mirror-self needed to die, not because I hated her or felt she deserved it, but because she needed to die: this was the only to help the group of students present. My dad told lots of similar stories where he had to decide who would be saved and who would die in his emergency since saving everyone was impossible."

"YES!" Harry said excited. "That's it! You're not more evil or cruel than anyone else, you are just better at making a decision and sticking to it. You've always been focussing on what needs to be done rather than on what you want to happen."

"Please, can we talk about something else Harry," Hermione said, pointing at all the students looking at them as if they were attending a Shakespearean play. "Any news about the Shecks twins?"

Harry jumped on his feet and dragged Hermione out of the common room into an empty corridor outside Gryffindor's dormitory. They passed Ron and Ginny on their way; Harry whistled them to follow. The four friends convened in a tower where they exchanged news, or more precisely lack of. Ginny's mother replied in a letter that no one at the ministry knew where they were, let alone members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry's bad feelings quickly spread to the others: someone needed to go to Gaunt's house straight away.

"You guys stay here and…"

"No," shouted Ginny angrily at Harry. "You do not tell us to stay back: we've talked about this. We all go. You're not the only one who can fly a broom!"

"I'll say," Ron went on. "Ginny's right. Besides, you may need some physical magic over there."

Ron's remark was too funny to be ignored and a soothing laugh relaxed the atmosphere. They met in the courtyard quarter before midnight, brooms in hands and ready to go. As they were ready to depart, a figure came out of Hogwarts' and ran towards them, kicking and screaming.

"Harry Potter!"

"Great," Hermione whispered. "How did she know we were leaving?"

Professor McGonagall put a non-flying spell on their brooms so they were forced to wait. Ron, having been the fastest, was already thirty feet in the air when he was dragged to the ground by the powerful wand of the headmistress. McGonagall looked at each of them, trying to hold her most callous expression as long as she could.

"What do you think you're doing?" said McGonagall.

"We need to see what happened to the Shecks twins," Harry said, convinced McGonagall would say no.

"You'll need this," the headmistress declared with a smile, incapable of pretending to be crossed.

She handed them each a tiny candleholder with a miniscule candle topped by a greenish flame.

"Lupin passed by earlier this week and said that Gaunt's house is under a darkness spell. Only these candles will break through. Don't try a luminous spell from your wand; they backfire in spaces cursed with darkness. More importantly, do not drop or let go of these candles. Put the ring of the holder on your finger. The flames will burn no matter what. It's new magic and it is supposed to do a lot more than just light up the room. They were brought from the ministry this morning. I hope the twins are all right."

"Lupin did not see them?" Hermione said.

"A darkness spell Hermione… Surely, I don't have to tell you that seeing is impossible! As far as the twins goes, we don't know a thing. None of the owls or black swans we've sent came back alive. You need to go as fast as you can."

The headmistress grabbed her dress and walked back to the Castle. Harry missed the good old days when the grand lady would scream at him for trying to do something a thousand times less dangerous. This feeling of validation was quite new, he wanted to thanks McGonagall for her trust but she was long gone.

The airspace covering the journey between Hogwarts and Gaunt's house was impressive to say the least but they were much older and thus much faster on their brooms. One hour of flying put them within five miles of their destination when they were crushed by darkness. The candleholder's tiny green lights helped find their way by decreasing intensity if they were heading in the wrong direction and glowing stronger the closer they got. The pitch-black area was terrifying: it was as if they had entered a bottomless hole.

"Here," shouted Hermione, pointing at a house on the ground.

They landed directly into Gaunt's front yard. The dismembered property had never looked so grim. A strong wind descended on them, forcing the wizards to rush into the house: barely having time to hang their brooms on to the rotten fence surrounding the property. Once inside, they tiny green flames proved indispensable.

Ron started to explore straight away, followed by the three wizards who had the candleholder in the left-hand and their wands in the right. The stench was insufferable: the floor was littered with freshly killed carcasses that had been macerating all day under an overheated fire in the middle of the room. Ginny nearly fainted so repulsive the sight and smell were.

Ron put a finger on his mouth to tell his friends that he had heard something. A woman's voice singing incantations was coming from the floor above. Harry's anger grew tenfold; nevertheless, he mastered his desire to rush up and kill Bellatrix Lestrange, a voice he would never forget. Ginny agreed with him from the head: a planned ambush was better than an impulsive attack. Hermione choked a scream that almost came out of her mouth, pointing at a strange shadow moving on a wall.

"It's… it's…" whispered Hermione, who could not bring herself to say the name.

The dim light from Ron's candle illuminated one of the Shecks twin hanging on a wall, suspended by sharpened rib bones that had been nailed all over to room to serve as hooks.

"Is he alive?" Ginny said.

The Shecks twin had no more arms or legs; just a trunk supporting a head that astonishingly was trying to speak. Harry moved closer and tried to unhook the suffering man but the curved end of the nailing bones made his task impossible. The twin kept opening his mouth but nothing would come out of it since a rib bone had pierced his throat.

"Harry…"

Harry looked at the twin and said yes from his head. The twin gathered whatever life he had left and tapped into Harry's occlument powers.

"It is too late for me; I have minutes to live so listen carefully. We found the cup. My twin has it; he is up there with her. We tried to stop her but she was too powerful. She didn't kill me because she wants to sacrifice me after my twin. You have to go up there and get the cup; it is in one of his pocket. Do not try to save him, just get the cup."

"Don't worry, we will save you both and…"

"NO!" cut in the twin. "Do not save me or my brother. It is the only way to destroy the Horcruxe. We need to be sacrificed."

"I don't understand. Why would Bellatrix sacrifice you to destroy the cup?"

"I can't explain right now Harry… I…"

The twin's eyes rolled up and blood came gushing out of his throat. His head fell forward on his thorax. A spell made his lungs breath but his soul was gone: he was a living dead.

Harry's anger could not to be controlled any longer; like a crazy warrior, he used his wand as if it was a sword and ran up the stairs screaming. His sudden burst surprised Lestrange. She was floating in midair, using her wand like a laser, carving slices of an arm of the other twin, also hooked on sharpened bones.

"Harry Potter," Lestrange shouted with half a smile, as if she had been expecting him. "Looks like I will finish the job after all."

"Don't you dare!" shouted the Shecks twin. "Your master would never forgive you if you robbed him of the opportunity to kill Harry."

"You're right," Bellatrix uttered, spitting drools of anger. "At least, I can kill these three."

The witch gained much power since their last encounter; nothing Ron, Ginny or Hermione threw at her did any damage. The magical strength she had absorbed from the sacrificed lives of animals rendered her almost invincible. No matter what spell they tried, Lestrange fend them off with burst of demonic laughter.

Bellatrix hit Harry on the stomach and propelled him ten feet backward. She then pointed her wand at the three others who fell to the floor, grapping their throat, incapable of breathing. Lestrange was so enjoying herself she released the intensity of her suffoc spell so they would not die immediately; just long enough for the wizards to catch a breath every five seconds.

"How about this?" said the witch to Harry who had gotten back on his feet. "How about watching your filthy friends die."

Harry raised his wand but Lestrange was too quick; two sharp bones from the floor flew right into his hands and nailed them on the wall.

"Harry," said the twin as calmly as possible. "I know you talked to my twin downstairs."

"I… can't talk…" Harry said, feeling the oxygen around him disappear.

"Chit chat, chit chat," Bellatrix said with blood dripping from her mouth from something she had been chewing on. "Now, who should I kill first Harry?"

"I'll make you a deal with you Lestrange," said the twin. "I will tell you what happened to your Draco if you take my life instead of theirs."

"How dare you!" shouted the witch. "You are in no position to bargain. I will kill you…"

"Enough," shouted the twin. "You can read my mind but you cannot access the secrets in there. You know I am not lying about Draco. You also know I've sent letters to Narcissa and she will be reading them soon. Don't forget Narcissa is the oldest one, she is the first born and if I'm not mistaken, she can still use the curse of the heir."

"Where's Draco?" screamed Lestrange, feeling cornered.

"Do you allow me to sacrifice myself to save the lives of Ron, Ginny and Hermione?"

"I will kill you myself first."

"No," shouted the twin. "I will kill myself, I will sacrifice myself. Do we have a deal?"

"Very well, NOW, TELL ME ABOUT DRACO!"

Lestrange dropped her wand and the oxygen returned. Hermione, Ron and Ginny were still too dizzy to do anything else but gasp for air. Harry, still pinned to the wall, could only witness. The Shecks twin's left arm was freed from the bone.

"All right, I have proven my good will," Lestrange said. "Now you keep your end of the bargain."

"I need my wand to kill myself."

The witch immediately raised hers and pointed it at the twin's forehead.

"No need to worry," said the twin calmly. "You have the upper hand. There is nothing I can do beside kill myself."

"DRACO, TELL ME ABOUT DRACO!"

The twin did not take his wand from his pocket but a cup, which he held straight in front of him. Lestrange did not know what the cup was besides what it was made of: pure gold. She suddenly desired it passionately.

"A gold cup?" Bellatrix shouted.

"Yes, a gold cup… very good Bellatrix, and here I thought you needed glasses."

"What are you playing at," screamed the witch. "GIVE ME THAT CUP AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO DRACO!"

"You'll have to kill me first."

The twin's tone was so harsh and defiant it shook Lestrange down to her core. With all the rage she could master, she pointed her wand at the heart of the twin and screamed Avada Kedavra.

"I" said the twin with his last breath. "I… give… my life…"

The twin's head fell forward and released his grip on the cup. The golden object slowly fell to the ground. Upon hitting the floor, a gigantic explosion followed. Even though it happened at the speed of light, the candles held by each wizard expanded faster than the shock wave, covering them with a thick green light.

Bellatrix was thrown a hundred feet away with the rest of the house. Thanks to the green lights, the wall holding Harry and part of the floor where the others were, still stood. Coming back to his senses, Ron used his wand, freed Harry's hands and kept him up in the air since no floor was under him. Ron flew Harry over and put him over his shoulders half conscious.

"My scar… my scar…." Harry kept repeating.

Ginny and Hermione, up on their feet as well, did not need Harry's remark to understand the danger. A terrifying scream was coming from deep inside the earth, racing towards them like a volcano about to unleash its lava.

They ran down the stairs, walked over crumbled bricks and stepped into rotten flesh. Ron helped Ginny climbed over the rubbles; in no time, they were in the front yard, next to their brooms.

"Hermione!" shouted Ron.

"I thought she was with me," replied Ginny, looking back.

Hermione appeared some seconds later. She had apparated right next to them. The three wizards were on their broom, Ginny holding Harry's broom tightly under her arm. Ron put held Harry around the waist with and flew both of them off.

Their ascent was blocked by the gravitational pull of the scream. They were being pulled back down when another scream was heard in the distance.

"MY LORD! HELP!"

It was Bellatrix, pined under heavy stones. Lestrange's supplication was sufficient to distract Voldemort, just enough to affect the gravitational pull and let the wizards take off like supersonic jets.

Ron, holding Harry close to him, kept whispering into his ears that they would be all right, that all he had to do was hang on. The pain in Harry's scar finally subsided but the injuries to his hands were too severe for him to grab the broom.

"Never mind Harry," said Ron. "You just sit, I'll hold on for the both of us."

It took some time before finding their way out of the darkness but stars finally appeared in the distance. The grounds started to look familiar and Hogwarts came into view. Ron felt safe enough to question Hermione.

"Where were you? How come you didn't follow Ginny?"

"I wanted to get this."

Hermione triumphantly took an object from her pocket. It was the cup, twisted and burned, but the cup nonetheless.

Chapter 18

.Hogwarts breached.

No one slept much that night. Harry spent a few minutes with Madam Pomfrey who tried a new magical ointment created just days ago at the Ministry laboratory; within seconds, Harry's hands were healed with no visible scars. Harry would have loved to sleep in, this being a Saturday, but, like Ron, Ginny and Hermione, he was summoned to the headmistress' office at eight. Harry painfully got out of bed under Neville watchful eyes.

"Change of plans Harry," Neville said, having just come from McGonagall's. "We won't meet till after diner."

Harry fell into a deep healthy sleep. He woke up late in the morning, finding himself all alone in the dormitory. He heard it again, the voice telling him to remember. He decided no to fight but to go along: closing his eyes, he allowed the voice to come close and whisper in his ears. He was taken back years ago, when he was an infant. His mother was holding him. The memory was so vivid he was there. Close by was his father, singing some lullaby.

Harry started to hum the tune but was thrown out of bed by the voice screaming; "NO, REMEMBER THE TRUTH, REMEMBER HARRY…"

It was impossible to go back to this happy place and Harry was out of the corridor, chasing the shadow as it did before. He was angry, feeling he had been kidnapped from his parents once more time. He went back to his bed and tried to rekindle the memory but all that was left was this tune that kept humming in his mind. The day passed and Harry did not bother telling anyone about the stupid voice which he now considered a very bad joke.

When diner came, Harry was the first to sit down, not having eaten all day. His friends made sure to talk about stupid things and kept their minds from wandering about last night. The news of their adventure had Gaunt's house surprisingly remained secret. Only Luna and Neville were in the loop since they too were to participate in the debriefing.

"What's a debriefing?" Ron asked Hermione as they were making their way to McGonagall's office.

"It's an inquiry. Whenever something bad happens like an accident, a group is put together to investigate."

"It was no accident," said Ginny.

"It's a figure of speech. You have all types of debriefings. It's just a big word that refers to someone telling all he knows to a group of experts."

In Professors McGonagall's office, they were surprised to find that another person had been invited: Phosphoros. Both wizards were lost in a very intense conversation: it took the headmistress two full minutes before acknowledging the presence of her guests. Seeing how dimly they looked at Professor Phosphoros, she felt best to clear the air.

"I've asked Professor Phosphoros to be present since a Horcruxe had been destroyed. The Professor will be the judge of your success. I have been getting mixed messages since last night from the Ministry and other members of the Order of the Phoenix. There seem to be disinformation from all sides. I decided to keep things between ourselves for the moment. I hope my orders were followed and that no one besides you six knows about last night?"

Harry and his friends looked at one another with positive responses. Harry wanted to feel upset at McGonagall for doubting them but she would have read his mind and discussed publicly what he was thinking.

"Good. It is crucial we confide only in one another. Phosphoros has spy-proofed the room…"

McGonagall giggled, enjoying more and more these human expressions that have been invading Hogwarts from the adult teaching side."

"How are your hands Harry?" Phosphoros said.

"They're fine," snapped Harry who didn't want to talk about his injuries one more time.

"May I see the cup now," McGonagall asked bluntly.

Hermione put the cup on the desk. It looked awful, twisted and dark, covered with holes and half of its foot broken. Both professors prolonged their investigation by mumbling a series of spells for at least half an hour. Finally, Phosphoros and McGonagall looked at each other and smiled.

Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron each took turn in recalling events of the previous night. Luna and Neville had loads of questions running through their heads but did not want to interrupt. Once the four heroes were done, Phosphoros and McGonagall again looked at one another.

"Amazing," said Phosphoros. "Absolutely amazing, and a first in the history of Magic..."

Professor McGonagall radiated with pride, going as far as putting a hand on her chest to prevent tears from moving up to her eyes, quite undignified for a person in her position. She gazed at each of the four heroes, bowed her head in respect, stood up, took her wand and said pointing at the cup "originalis."

The cup regained its original splendor. It was the first time any of them was that close to such a magical artifact. The golden cup shined as if it was producing light and the sapphires that had disappeared over the ages were reborn, circling both the rim and the foot.

"You have succeeded," said McGonagall. "You have destroyed the Horcruxe. It is now a simple cup, filled with its ancestral glow, but a cup and nothing else. You will have to forget about it for a while since it is not ready to be put in the London's History of Magic Museum. Voldemort would surely snap it straight away. Besides, this cup deserves a public ceremony."

"But we didn't do anything," Harry replied, having not heard of word about the cup's splendor, focusing only on Voldemort's piece of soul.

"It was the Scheck's twins, he destroyed it!" said Hermione.

"And did any of you figure out how he destroyed the Horcruxe?" asked Professor Phosphoros.

The dumbfounded looks on everyone's face told Phosphoros no one would even venture a guess, which he secretly appreciated since such dangerous knowledge should not be readily available to such young wizards

"You know what happened?" Luna said unaffected.

"Yes," Professor Phosphoros replied, unwilling to add anything else.

"I'm sorry," said McGonagall to the Minoan, "I disagree with you. They may be young but they have a right to know. Tell them Phosphoros."

The floating wizard approved and went around each wizard, trying to assess their minds before taking them into a path of discovery. It had been his experience that sensitive matters should be tackled with self searching.

"Any of you can tell me how does one go about creating a Horcruxe?"

"You have to kill someone." Harry replied.

"Yes. Wouldn't it be logical to assume that the reverse would destroy the Horcruxe?"

"You mean create a life," replied Ron.

"Not exactly," said Phosphoros, still spinning around them like a circular pendulum. "Semantic is preventing you from understanding. If someone kills a life what does that person do to that life?"

"He destroys it," said Luna.

"He ends it," Neville added, hoping to have the right answer.

"He takes it," murmured Ginny.

"Exactly," shouted Phosphoros. "And the opposite of taking is…"

"Giving," said Harry. "That's what the Scheck twin did! He sacrificed himself, he gave his life!"

"Ah, but you said it was Bellatrix who killed him?" said McGonagall.

"Still," added Hermione. "The Shecks twin asked her to kill him."

"Right," Phosphoros replied. "If you sacrifice your life, then you cannot be murdered. Bellatrix did not kill the twin, she sacrificed him."

Everything became clear for Ron, Hermione and Ginny, the three of them distinctly remembering the last words of the Scheck twin the second before he died. Excitement quickly subsided and doomed fell upon the young wizards who were starting to grasp the implications of what they had learned, contemplating the ultimate gift that the destruction of the other Horcruxes required. Most upset was Ginny who had fathomed that of anyone present, Harry was the most likely to be the sacrificial lamb. Harry, on the other hand, was far from being convinced.

"That doesn't make sense," replied Harry. "I didn't kill myself when I destroyed the diary and Professor Dumbledore didn't die when he destroyed the ring."

"Quite true Harry," said McGonagall. "But that was five years ago and Voldemort could not possibly imagine that a young wizard like you could harm him. You have to agree though that having to use something as lethal and dangerous as a basilisk poison, is hardly an easy task. Once his first Horcruxe was destroyed, Voldemort made sure the others would not be."

"But Professor Dumbledore destroyed the ring!"

"You see Harry," said Phosphoros, "there is nothing completely indestructible! Voldemort thought his Horcruxes were infallible but Dumbledore proved otherwise. Voldemort just cannot imagine that someone would go to such extremes as to sacrifice himself since he, Voldemort, would never do it."

"Professor Dumbledore did not die," Ron said, wanting to help Harry who felt he was the only one asking the important questions.

"Albus sacrificed his most precious possession," said McGonagall. "You've seen the state of his hand! Albus powerful magical talents came from that hand. It was something that nature gave him at birth. He was blessed with a superior intellect but that hand of his was sublime. Albus tried all he could to destroy the ring until he understood its weakness; the piece of Voldemort's soul required an ultimate sacrifice. There is one thing Albus valued more than his life: his gifted hand."

Harry was puzzled, remembering how dodgy Professor Dumbledore was about his hand. He could still see the face of his mentor as pain engulfed his hand and yet, the grand master would continue as if nothing happened.

"I guess Albus never told you about his hand Harry," said Professor McGonagall, seeing the distraught on his face.

"He was going to but didn't have time."

"I don't think he would have Harry. He knew you would use this knowledge and put your own life at risk. I'm afraid Snape was assisting Albus with the destruction of the ring. It was he who suggested a sacrificing spell. The Horcruxe in the ring was destroyed but it nearly killed Albus. It took Madame Pomfry a week of treatment to prevent the gangrene in his hand to move up his arm."

"Snape!" shouted Hermione. "It must have been him who told Voldemort how his ring was destroyed."

"Let's not jump to conclusion," hissed Phosphoros, clearly uncomfortable about the Snape. "We will discuss Severus Snape at a later time."

Saying this, Phosphoros looked in his pocket and took out the ring. He put it on the desk, next to the cup, for everyone to see. It too at regained its original glory.

"How come it looks so new?" Neville said.

"I don't really know," said Phosphoros. "I guess the evil stuck in these objects is so powerful that once it is out, the object is born again."

"Now, about yesterday, one thing is certain," McGonagall said, clearing her throat. "Voldemort is afraid. He is no more the overly confident wizard, the one who cannot be hurt. He must have thought, with Albus out of the way, his overtaking of Magical World would be an easy breeze. The scream you've heard when the Horcruxe was destroyed tells me he is hiding deep within the earth."

"Yes," Ginny said. "I will never forget that scream. It was as if an earthquake was coming from the centre of the planet."

"A scream that is unbecoming of Voldemort," Phosphoros pointed out. "But then again, it must have been a great surprise to realize there was nothing else he could do to protect his Horcruxes; putting a protection spell requiring death is as far as he can go."

"What are we going to do now?" Ron said. "Are you sure he cannot make his Horcruxes stronger?"

"No!" Phosphoros said triumphantly. "Magical laws cannot be broken. The same goes for physical laws as Muggle scientists discovered through the years. The last power any wizard has is his own life and it is this power Voldemort tapped into to protect his Horcruxes. The creation of Horcruxes demands years of preparation and tremendous magical energy. Voldemort will not be able to make another Horcruxe for a year, maybe more. For once, time is on our side."

"Do not see this as hope, but as a warning," cautioned McGonagall. "Voldemort was easier to deal with as a blasé careless wizard. Now that he is scared, he is like an animal, the vilest of animals… and when animals are afraid, they are at their most dangerous."

"What about Lupin and Tonks?" Hermione said.

"No news yet," said McGonagall. "Bill sent his best Aurores to track them down. The minute I hear something, I will let you know."

"Do Tonks and Lupin know about the scarifying stuff?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know. In fact, you have touched on what puzzled me the most in this story," said Phosphoros. "The Scheck twins died before telling us how they discovered the cup and how to destroy it."

"They said they had gotten pretty good at going through Riddle's house during the last meeting," observed Ron. "I'm sure that's where they found the information and it probably came from someone over there."

"You're just like your father Ron Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. "That's exactly what Bill told me when I talked to him last night. The Aurores have specific orders to track down the Gardner of Riddle's house."

"Yet," cut in Phosphoros, "I doubt they will find anything of interest. Voldemort probably got to the gardener already. In my humble opinion, Gaunt's House was where Voldemort kept the cup or maybe he had Bellatrix guard it herself. Which brings me to another strange occurrence; you are sure Voldemort was distracted by Bellatrix's screams?"

"Yes," Ginny replied. "We've all heard it. If it wasn't for Bellatrix, we'd all be dead. "

"The bond between Bellatrix and Voldemort must be stronger than we anticipated," murmured Phosphoros. "This matter should not be dealt lightly. Voldemort must have important reason to save her instead of going after you four."

"Great," Ron said. "Another mystery!"

A loud click coming from a corner of the room surprised everyone. A shadowy figure manifested itself with some difficulty: light particles kept trying to form then diffuse themselves.

Wands out, they waited to see what would happen. Hermione was first one to drop her jaw when the figure finally appeared; it was a bald man, wearing white lab coat, playing furiously with some kind of electronic gizmo in his hands. The other wizards were clueless, having never seen a lab coat before: Hermione brought them up to speed.

"How did you get here?" shouted Hermione at the figure.

The man could obviously see and hear Hermione; he panicked, frantically pushing every buttons on the remote control with his fingers. Hermione tried the impediment jinx but the green light hit the wall as if the man was not there.

"It's an image!" Hermione said.

"Hermione, explain yourself," shouted McGonagall,

"This is no wizard. It's a Muggle scientist, working on some kinds of electrical machine. He is not here physically, just his projection."

"His what?" Phosphoros gawked, having tried all his best spells on the man with no effect.

"It's some kind of hologram."

Upon hearing the word, the man in the white coat stared at Hermione, terrified. He obviously did not expect a wizard to know so much about human sciences. He freaked out and threw his remote on the floor which broke the hologram: he had vanished. Hermione walked over and picked up a small box on the floor.

"How amazing," murmured Hermione. "An actual physical transfer."

"Who was that guy Hermione," Ron said, "Did you know him?"

"Of course not, don't be stupid. He looked like a human scientist, and he has found a way to infiltrate Hogwarts. I can't tell you anymore since I don't know much about physics and holograms…"

"Isn't your mother a nuclear physicist?" cut in McGonagall.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "Yes, you're right, she might help us."

"Well, go ahead." McGonagall said. "Use your telephone Hermione."

Hermione was stunned: Professor McGonagall knew about her phone.

"How dumb do you think we are Hermione?" McGonagall shouted. "Of course we know about your communicating devices. Practically every Muggle in the school has one. We're not tyrant; we know how difficult it is for Muggles in Hogwarts, we would have never prevented any of you from calling your parents."

"I thought these were illegal," Hermione replied.

"They are officially illegal and unofficially tolerated. Do I need to explain myself?"

Hermione dialed her mother's number, touched by the mercy Hogwarts had showed over the years. Everyone listened on Hermione's conversation though sixty percent of the terms eluded them. Mrs. Granger was beside herself with worry; it was agreed she and another well-known physicist would be at Hogwarts the next morning. Following orders set by Hermione's mother, the box was to be left in the exact spot and no one was to get close to that corner until they arrive. Mrs. Granger gave these orders directly to McGonagall who was handed the phone by Hermione. From the mischievous grin on the headmistress' face, Hermione could tell McGonagall appreciated talking to another woman as apt as herself at giving orders.

"Sirius' mother!" Harry said suddenly.

"What?" Ron replied.

"The same thing happened with Sirius' mother. Remember, no matter what we tried, our spells went right through her like that bald guy in here."

Harry's words resonated deeply in Professor McGonagall's mind; like him, she had arrived at the same conclusion. All eyes turned towards her. Professor McGonagall concluded the meeting with a dire observation.

"It is true! Voldemort has allies in the Muggle world."

Chapter 19

canceling Hermione

The month of October of his seventeenth year would be remembered by Harry Potter as "mensis horribilis." So much had happened that having destroyed the Horcruxe hidden in Helga Hufflepuff's cup was a mere memory. The daily recollection of details about that night had been kept vivid by Ginny who wanted to help Harry navigate the sea of doomsday events that his life was.

Ginny was Harry's pillar. Any sixteen-year-old girl would have crumbled with jealousy, having to endure the non-stop presence of another girl in her boyfriend's mind, but not Ginny Weasley. Hermione was all Harry could talk about since her tragic disappearance three weeks ago. No matter how witty and headstrong Ginny proved to be, she could not master the human ingenuity Hermione naturally exuded. Her love for Harry was never threatened, his heart belonged to her, but she was loosing the battle for his sanity.

To top it off, as bad as Harry was, he was the least of Ginny's problem. To the best of her knowledge Harry was still functioning but the same could not be said of her brother. Days of unsuccessful attempts at finding Hermione rendered the tall, strong redhead wizard, into a frail reed that a furious everlasting hurricane was trying to tear from the seashore. McGonagall tried everything to bring Ron's spirit back, from insults to caring words: all pointless. Phosphoros relentlessly put Ron in the most dangerous situation during new spell practices: all the Professor got from him was complete surrender to adversity.

It was a Saturday evening and Harry wanted a peaceful sleep. Ron, purged over the ledge of the window in Gryffindor's dormitory would not leave it to rest.

"How do you do it?" Ron said.

Harry stood up from his bed, surprised to see words finally coming out from his best friend's mouth.

"It's like you don't care," insisted Ron since Harry kept silent.

"Because unlike you, I have not given up," Harry snapped, trying to comfort Ron.

"Don't you scream at me!"

"I'll scream at you if I want," Harry said, unable to control himself anymore. He too needed Ron.

"How can you have hope? We were there when Lucius took her!"

"So was her mother," shouted Harry whose loud voice woke up everyone. "She saw her only daughter grabbed by the throat by this monster and unlike you and I, she has been trying to do find her ever since and…"

Harry did not finish his sentence seeing that Ron, again, was not paying attention, his eyes lost on the starry sky and away from his miserable self.

Harry was referring to the events that took place in McGonagall's office just three days after their adventure at Gaunt's house. Mrs. Granger had been busy for days trying to unearth clues about the involvement of a physicist in Magical World. She finally got enough proof to support McGonagall's theory: Voldemort found a way to use high-tech Muggle equipment and breed magic into them. Mrs. Granger explained that some physicists in the Muggle world created a Portkey into Hogwarts, not a magical one but governed by the laws of quantum physics and optics.

Hermione helped her mother and her team put together a similar machine in the headmistress office. Progress was swift due to the Prime Minister of Great Britain who ordered his best scientists to go work with Hermione's mother and sent whatever instruments she requested. The few scientists allowed to come to Hogwarts were treated like royalty by teachers and like mercenaries by most of the purebloods in the adult students section.

One night, Hermione and her mother invited a restricted group to congregate in the headmistress office: Ron, Ginny and Harry of course but Luna, Neville and Phosphoros as well. Minerva McGonagall was incredibly proud of this moment; having been responsible for breathing Magic in what Mrs. Granger called the wormhole. The office had been transformed into a high-tech lab with equipment Harry and Ron could not pronounce the names, even if they were forced to.

And it worked! Some machines started to spin, others made strange noises resulting in a small circle of light emanating in the same corner they had seen the bald man. The light grew bigger and an image appeared: they had opened a door into the lab where Voldemort was conducting his experiments. They were taken by the immensity of the room and the sophistications of the equipment.

One man wearing a lab coat spotted them and shouted to the others to look in their direction: the wormhole was bi-directional. What happened next was too fast for anyone to comprehend; within one hundredth of a second, the link was severed and Hermione had vanished. Mrs. Granger gave orders to extract videotapes of the event and project them on a wall.

Nothing new appeared at first but Mrs. Granger asked to reduce the speed: at 1.2 thousand times slower speed, Mrs. Granger, along with everyone else present, saw a strange looking man with long blond hair appear in the other laboratory. The man flew through the wormhole, grabbed Hermione using his clawed fingernails to hook her neck and dragged her back to the other lab after which the wormhole collapsed.

"Lucius Malfoy!" shouted Ron.

Mrs. Granger was told how brutally scared Voldemort was when one of his Horcruxe was destroyed and how it was Hermione who risked her life to bring back the cup it had been hiding in. She learned of who was this Lucius Malfoy, a Death Eater doing Voldemort's dirty work who jumped at the opportunity to exert revenge on Hermione.

The team went right back to work, ferociously trying to reopen the wormhole but nothing worked. Days went by and all the news they got were of daily attacks on Muggle populations. Voldemort's vengeance had started. Planes of unknown origins bombarded England; earthquakes shook different parts of the world: California, the Elysian Islands and half of Polynesia were gone. Volcanoes came to life; Naples disappeared from Europe's Map while Victoria, a Canadian city on the pacific coast, was now a caldera.

Mrs. Granger left Hogwarts. It had been a week since Mrs. Granger held Ron in her arms. She knew how badly this young man needed her daily outpouring of unrestricted love. She had to go back to London and find a way to continue her search fro Hermione with the help of more sophisticated equipment. She needed to be with Hermione's father who was trying to save lives in a hospital barely standing. Ron felt abandoned by his parents as well who were caught in trying to save the remaining Magical spaces on the planet.

"You know what really sickens me," Ron said after a long silence.

"What…" Harry muttered, surprised to hear anger in his friend's voice, an emotion he had longed for.

"Everything seems fine here at Hogwarts. The sky is filled with stars, the grass is green and everyone goes on learning more spells…"

"And the world is about to end," continued Harry.

Harry got up, leaned over the window and put his arm over Ron's shoulders. Ron did the same. The two young men gazed at the night, unaware that behind them, at least one hundred wizards, young and old, watched with tears in their eyes, even the rough Seamus Finnigan and the proud Viktor Krum, honorary member of Hogwarts, did not feel shame at letting water moist their cheeks.

Breakfast served the next morning in the Great Hall was hardly touched by anyone who bothered to get out of his or her dormitories. The staff table was filled since McGonagall did not tolerate teachers missing communal eating for any other reason than death. Hagrid was still struggling with his food; Professor Trelawney had come to consider him her pet project and always sat next to him just in case.

Stories of deaths and destruction from abroad flooded Hogwarts for weeks, everyone was desperate for news from families and friends. Reports of owls killed by miniature Red Hippogriffs, creatures Hagrid often referred as the vilest of the Magical Realm, forced McGonagall to impede incoming communication.

The headmistress stood up from the staff table and announced that owls would by flying in this morning: she made a mistake thinking that younger students could go without news from their parents. Moral was near the breaking point and the lives of owls could not be spared any longer. Minerva McGonagall smiled, seeing the burst of joy her news produced. The Great Hall was busy again with lively conversations; appetite was back and most students gorily ate and franticly drank.

The first owl flew through a gigantic opening in the ceiling that had been created by Professor Flitwick who cleverly foresaw that tripling Hogwarts' student population would triple the mail. Soon, everyone was on his or her feet, hands in the air, ready to catch whatever the family owl would drop.

The first scream came from the furthest left corner of Great Hall, away from the staff table. A young girl, hardly older than eleven, had to jump off her bench to avoid her owl that came crashing down where she had been sitting. The creature covered with blood from gushes to its face and wings, was not breathing. Another scream followed then another. Within sixty seconds, the Great Hall was transformed into a hellish slaughterhouse. The Armada of owls was attacked by the miniature Hippogriffs who, thankfully, were still too big to fly through the ceiling opening. The faithful animals delivered their letters no matter what; they kept coming into Hogwarts though a swarm of murderers took over the skies. Wands in hands, the wizards at the staff table were overwhelmed by the astronomical number of owls falling to their deaths on children below.

The few owls that managed to fly through the room alive, panicked when seeing the rays of light from the wands. Thinking they were under assault, they assaulted the children, crazed with fear, going for the eyes of anything that moved.

"Everyone out!" shouted McGonagall.

The screams were too loud and the atmosphere too chaotic for anyone to listen. Any wizards, qualified or not, took out his wand and started to vanish anything flying in their vicinities.

"Ron, look!" yelled Harry.

Ron turned around and saw ten owls dive on two young boys next to him. He stepped in front and successfully vanquished the owls with incredible speed and perfect aim.

Within minutes, a dead silence crept over the Great Hall: Professor Grubbly-Plank had sealed the hole in the ceiling. Dead owls littered the floors, tables and benches. The youngest wizards were carefully helped out the room by older ones. Calm resumed.

Harry felt a burning sensation in the front left pocket of his pants. He put his hand in and retrieved the dice with the initials R.A.B: it was hot. Harry deduced that it reacted to the blood splattered on his pants.

"Ron," Harry shouted. "Look!"

Ron, having made sure that the young boys were on their way to Gryffindor's common room, went back to see Harry. Neville, near by, put his dices on the table but contrary to Harry's, his were cold.

"It's a magical dice!" Neville concluded. "It must react to blood."

As soon as the blood dried, the dice went cold again. Luna and Ginny joined and Harry ordered everyone to follow him into a more secluded corner of Hogwarts to assess what he had discovered.

"Don't you think we should stay here and help?" Ginny said.

"There are enough seventh years and teachers. Beside the room is almost empty now. This is much more important," Harry said assertively

They opted for the lab: it was empty. They started throwing any blood compound they could find, discovering that animal blood warmed up the dice but not much else. Luna explained that maybe the blood on Harry's pants came from a wound on his hand an owl had inflicted. They each took turn in pricking their fingers: the dice heated up more than before but went cold soon after. Harry, the last to try, was disappointed to find that his blood did not result in the breakthrough he had hoped for.

"What's going on here?" Professor Phosphoros said.

The tall wizard had materialized behind and bent down to look at the small object on the table generating such interest. With his clinical expression of a scientist running everyday experiments, Phosphoros pricked his finger and three drops of blood fell on the dice. The dice reached its highest temperature yet but, as with the others, went back to its normal temperature.

"I'm sure we can do better; we need to bring this to Minerva."

"She's too busy right now," Ginny said, irritated. "Don't you know what happened?"

Phosphoros had been working in his office all morning and was desolated to hear about the owls. Phosphoros agreed with Ginny's assessment and told everyone to reconvene around eight in the evening. For now, Harry, Ron and Neville were to join him and help clean the Great Hall while Luna and Ginny should search for scared young wizards that may have run away.

Morning and afternoon were too busy for any of them to think. Exhausted from the amount of work accomplished, no one expected how hours of constant magic could be so tiresome, Harry and his friends crashed in any seat they could find. Seeing how tired his friends were, Harry told them to stay while he went to McGonagall's office.

"You stay here; I don't think Phosphoros and McGonagall will mind. I'll come back the minute I know something."

The corridors and staircases were empty, not a ghost around. Harry paused when he heard faint voices of very young children coming from above his head. He ran up the stairs and only glimpsed at girl so young she could not have been more than three. The infant disappeared at the end of a corridor.

Harry decided to investigate, especially now that he saw for himself that Luna had been telling the truth about infants running through Hogwarts corridors. He spent a few minutes looking around but the voices had stopped.

When he entered the headmistress' office, he thought it best to keep what he saw for himself. Only Professor McGonagall was present. She glanced at him and told Harry to wait on a chair till Phosphoros showed up. The headmistress was angry like never before, writing letters after letters, stuffing them in the beaks of black swans perched on each of the windows surrounding the room.

Phosphoros entered; his face livid. Harry swore he saw the wizard clean drops of blood next to his mouth using one of his long skinny fingers. McGonagall finished another letter and told her two guests to gather around her bureau.

"Can we try your blood Minerva?" Phosphoros said, having regained his composure.

"I don't think mine is the answer," said the headmistress pricking herself.

The dice warmed up again, became red but rapidly turned cold. The lack of splashing effect did not affect McGonagall who immediately got up and went looking on shelves covered with pots and bottles. It had been a tradition that every headmistress and headmaster saved ten ounces of his or her blood for posterity. She came back holding a bottle with the inscription Albus Dumbledore.

"Blood dries quite fast and Albus' is the only one liquid enough to do the job."

"But if your blood didn't work why would Professor Dumbledore's?" Harry asked.

"Call it my feminine intuition," McGonagall said.

One drop of Dumbledore's blood and the dice became red hot. It took much longer this time to cool down but once it did, new letters had appeared on it: hexio exum.

"I've read this somewhere!" Harry said triumphantly.

He stormed out of the room, without asking permission, and came back three minutes later with a book.

"Snape's book. He was the Half-Blood Prince. I hid the book in the room of requirement before leaving last year. It's a common textbook that Snape used when he was studying here and he wrote his own spells in it. See here," Harry said, having opened the book to a special page, "Hexio exum!"

Phosphoros was most intrigued and grabbed the book from Harry's hand to read the part of the text next to the words. McGonagall, on the other hand, calmly sat down, not showing the slightest interest for the book. She kept looking at Dumbledore's portrait hanging on the wall right in front of her. Harry wanted to speak but she stopped him with her hand. Phosphoros opted to wait as well for the headmistress to come out of intentionally induced meditation.

After what seemed an hour, she stood up and walked over to the portrait: Dumbledore was giggling like a silly young boy.

"You… you…" McGonagall kept repeating, smiling back at the portrait. "You sneaky little devil. You were right all along!"

"What's going on?" Harry said impatiently. "What was he right about?"

"I could not be happier Harry," said McGonagall. "The worst thing I've ever done was doubt Albus. He was adamant about Severus' redemption. I accepted your version of events Harry; I thought Severus played us all. However, I could not completely shake the feeling that something more happened between Severus and Albus the night he died."

Minerva McGonagall took the dice in her hand, placed it on the floor and asked everyone to move back. She dropped three drops of Dumbledore's blood on it and once it was red hot she pointed her wand and said; "hexio exum." The dice changed form and grew in size until Professor Snape appeared. Lying on the floor, holding his knees in a fetal position, looking miserable and scared, Snape had aged at least twenty years.

"Come Severus," McGonagall said, bending down to help the frail man stand up. She put one of his arms over her shoulder. "You're safe now. Come with me, Madame Pomfrey needs to take a look at you."

"WAIT!" Harry shouted, furious at the headmistress.

Minerva McGonagall did turn around; she simply muttered some words that rendered Harry mute and incapable of moving until she was long gone.

Chapter 20

old Severus Snape

The bells in Hogwarts chimed loudly when midnight struck. A solemn procession of wizards, young and old, children and adults, wearing robes and hats gathered in the courtyard and around the hills where Hagrid's house once stood. These hills formed a natural amphitheatre where an immense audience could assemble, offering a perfect view of scene built in its centre.

Earlier in the evening, pamphlets had been distributed detailing all that happened. The Great Hall was not the only casualty of the assault, dragons tried to destroy the new wing while Dementors and Death Eaters bombarded the magical force field protecting Hogwarts with all the magic they could master

Harry, Ron, many other seventh year students and Hogwarts staff were invited to stand next to Professor McGonagall on the rather small stage. The headmistress did not wait long for silence to fall, the crowd being eaten away with curiosity. To add magnificence to the eeriness of the moment, clouds moved away from the sky, pushed by the brightest of full moon.

"We have fought our first battle," McGonagall said, "And we won!"

An explosion of cheers and applause echoed for a two minutes; it was heard as far as two miles way in every direction. Once the crowd calmed down, Minerva McGonagall raised her wand and created a giant list out in the sky, so huge it could be read by all. The list detailed, in chronological order, the offensive action but most importantly the defensive ones.

"The counter attack from the Adult wizards resulted in six dragons killed, seventy eight breaches in the magical force field sealed and four volcanic holes covered with permanent water falls, killing at least eight Ignites. Our student's section triumphed over two hundred thousands possessed owls."

Harry remembered reading the number in the pamphlet but even now, as Professor McGonagall said it aloud, he had trouble figuring out how it could be possible. Yet, he was not a victim of misinformation since the bird carcasses were counted one by one.

"Hermione would have killed the most owls," Ron said to Harry.

"Of course," Harry murmured. "I bet that when we find her, she'll be madder of missing it than getting kidnapped."

"And last but not least," Minerva McGonagall continued, "we overcame adversity like no one before. At this, the midnight hour of October twelve, taking the full moon as my witness, I scream to Voldemort and his foes that his attack killed none."

This was the big news McGonagall wanted to share; Hogwarts exerted the first real blow to Voldemort's plan. Just days before, moral was at its lowest and hope of winning was gone. Hogwarts' headmistress explained the new magic being created in the lab in England Ministry of Magic was producing results and victory was not only possible but also attainable.

Refreshments appeared, silver trays of the finest foods flew around; the impromptu party lasted till sunrise. The staff and headmistress enjoyed themselves too much more for Harry and Ron who felt Hermione's drama was suddenly forgotten.

"Harry? Where are you?" Hagrid said, walking blind in the crowd.

"Here," shouted Harry, running over to the giant.

"Is Ron there with you?"

"I'm here," Ron said.

"Good. You two find Neville and Luna and follow me."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I'll tell you later."

"I see Ginny," Ron said.

"NO, NOT GINNY!" shouted Hagrid. "I'll explain later. Find Luna and Neville."

Harry and Ron did not want to get into an argument and followed orders, making sure they were not seen by Ginny who was obviously looking for them. It was especially hard for Harry who kept hoping that they were preparing a wonderful surprise for his girlfriend. The four wizards followed Hagrid back into Hogwarts and up to Madame Pomfrey's infirmary.

"You lots check to see if we're all alone," Hagrid shouted.

All rooms were checked and besides Snape, no one else was in the infirmary. Harry walked over to the bed near a window bathed by the full moon; Snape was back along with his old repulsive self, wearing a black robe, sitting upright in his bed like a rotten tree branch. Snape looked at him with an everlasting neutral expression.

"Potter…"

Harry expected the traditional sniff of disgust from his nostrils or the hissing sound of snakes but nothing; his name felt strange on the lips of this man.

"Ask your questions Harry," Snape said.

"I wouldn't know where to start!" Harry replied coldly. "Amazing how you always end back on your feet, back on everyone's good side. Severus Snape, always bouncing back!"

"I've never bounced Harry because I never left! The matter of Albus' death should first be discussed. Where are the dices?"

"What dices?" Ron said defiantly, finding Snape as cryptic as ever.

"Mr. Weasley," Snape said, "cunning is not one of your fortes; though I heard your magic has improved. I hope I share some accountability for this emancipation of yours."

Severus Snape was impossible to read, Harry did not even try.

"Get the dices Neville," Harry said to his friend.

Neville put the dices on Snape's bed. The dark eyes gleamed with envy and fear; he did not grab them, did not even touch them. Harry could not remember seeing emotions so distinctly of Snape's face. Something was definitely going on.

"You have done well..." Snape murmured as if speaking to himself.

Harry realised that the dark wizard was addressing someone an invisible person who manifested soon after: Professor Gauthierseen. Harry immediately took out his wand but it flew out of his hand due to Snape performing an Impedimenta spell.

"No matter what you've heard Harry," Severus Snape said. "Professor Gauthierseen is on our side."

"I'm so glad to see you," Gauthierseen said to Harry joyfully. "The famous dices, intact and all accounted for!"

"What are they?" Luna said.

"Dear Mrs. Lovegood, such exquisite inquisitive nature! What are the dices indeed?"

Gauthierseen snatched the seven dices and started rolled them in his hands as if they were made of pure gold. Seeing the disgusted faces looking at him as if he was a cockeyed miser, Gauthierseen cleared his throat and put the dices away in his pocket.

"You have to excuse me," Gauthierseen said. "These dices contain more magic than if you concentrated all the blood of all living unicorns into one tiny bottle. What is amazing is that it is not Wizard Magic but Muggle's!"

"What!" Ron said.

"It is sad Hermione Granger is not here; she would appreciate fully that the dices are made of pure uranium."

Harry remembered basic physics classes of her pre-Hogwarts schooling; uranium was highly radioactive and even deadly following prolonged exposure. Fearing for their lives, but mostly Neville who obviously had been endangered for nothing, Harry shouted at Gauthierseen but Snape interfered.

"Strange that such a toxic substance to Muggles could be so harmless to wizards…"

Looking at Gauthierseen who was still playing with the dices in his pocket, Snape gave an annoying look and said; "I think you have to be somewhere!"

The red headed wizard agreed and vanished but not before throwing a smile of contempt towards Harry who tried again to hit the wizard by calling his wand back to his hand.

"No Harry," Snape said.

Severus sniffed the room for a while like some dog on the trail of particles in the air. Satisfied, he laid back on his bed to help his collapsed lungs breath better.

"Good, he is gone; and we have won our second battle."

"You are not making any sense," shouted Hagrid. "I did what you told me to do because Dumbledore said that if you ever came back, I should follow your orders. You better tell us what you've been up to or I will… "

"Of course Hagrid," Snape cut in.

Turning to Harry, Snape continued.

"You're right Harry; Gauthierseen is working for Voldemort. Albus and I discovered that Voldemort was generating magic from the element known as uranium. I will not go over the details of our search, suffice it to say that when we realized Voldemort had been spotted around Muggles Nuclear Plants, we deduced he not only used radioactive forces to hide himself but also transformed it to his own good. By then we knew his powers would be impossible to fight. Our goal changed there after, Albus and I decided that a direct confrontation with Voldemort was out of the question. "

Snape produced a cup of water and drank slowly. His long stasis as a small cubic metal dice rendered him hyponatremic. The doors of the infirmary suddenly flew wide open and every Hogwarts Professors flooded the room.

"Very happy to see everyone is still alive," Snape said, putting down his cup.

Hogwarts Staff were not convinced so the re-apparition of Snape did not produce shouts of joy.

"Sybill," Snape said to Professor Trelawney. "I want you to know how proud of you Albus was, right until the end. Your sacrifice has not been in vain."

"My sacrifice will end soon!" Professor Trelawney said solemnly.

"Of course," Snape replied with a smile.

"We don't have a lot of time," McGonagall said. "Tell us what we need to know."

"Sybil Trelawney is a sear. The prophecy she made was exactly that: a prophecy! Albus decided to downplay the prophecy and make it as though they were accidental words that set events in motions. Truth is: Sybill foresaw the future and how to kill Voldemort."

"Shutting down my searing powers was the hardest thing I ever did," Professor Trelawney said.

"Maybe," Snape continued, "but it had to be. Albus rightfully thought the only way I would be able to live with myself after the death of Harry's parents, was to use the Prophecy to Harry's advantage. Thus, a long series of deceptions and cons were put in place so no one would know to whom I was loyal. Doubts had to be kept alive on both sides: Voldemort, to this day, is still unsure if I am with him or against him."

"My searing powers are too close to the surface to be stopped any longer," Trelawney added. "Years of bogus predictive arts have taken a toll on me."

"You mean all these lessons in your class were useless?" Ron shouted.

"Mr. Weasley," said Trelawney, "I am a great actress, I acted teaching; no Hogwarts student was hurt, only my ego!"

"Hermione…" Ron said, looking desperately at the Professor.

"Hermione Granger will not be the one to die," Trelawney said in half a trance.

"NOT NOW SYBILL!" Snape shouted. "Every time you use your gift, Voldemort picks up on it. Now, about Albus Dumbledore's death. I am sad to say there was no deception: I killed him. I had hoped it would not come to this but Albus made me swear that night before he left to retrieve the Horcruxe with Harry. I tried to save Albus, but he begged me to kill him."

Severus Snape looked directly at Harry who was recalling the words Professor Dumbledore kept saying "please, Severus." Dumbledore was not pleading for his life as Harry thought but for his death.

"Why?" Harry whispered.

"Because of the locket," said Snape.

"But the locket was a fake," Harry replied.

The history of the locket, of what Harry and Dumbledore had to do to get it, needed to be retold for teachers who only heard glimpses of it. Once Harry had descried how the note with the initials R.A.B was found, invalidating the locket, he looked at Snape and waited for an explanation.

"That locket was one of Voldemort's Horcruxe," Snape said. "As some of you may know, Voldemort's Horcruxes can only be destroyed by sacrificing one's life. Albus and I made a pact that if the time came, neither of us would hesitate to kill the other if this meant destroying the Horcruxe. Fatality fell on Albus."

"I don't understand," Harry screamed. "What about the note?"

"Because when you found it," Severus Snape said gravely. "You were not alone Harry. Albus knew this from a prediction Sybil personally made to him that night before you left."

All I eyes fell on Professor Trelawney. She felt she needed to say something.

"I told Albus how he would die. I did not have time to prepare. Albus called me into his office on that night as you may remember Harry. I told him his dead body would lie at the bottom of Hogwarts and that Voldemort himself would be around to witness your pain Harry, you who lost your mentor."

Harry did not remember feeling Voldemort close by, nor did his scar hurt.

"How can this be? I would have known if Voldemort was there."

"I will come to this later Harry," Snape said. "Thanks to Sybil's prediction, Voldemort was con in believing that his Horcruxe was still intact."

"Wait a minute," Ron said. "Harry did not feel Voldemort's presence and we know Voldemort feels it when one of his Horcruxe is destroyed."

"The dices," Neville said, understanding everything.

"What," Ron said.

"Professor Dumbledore told me about uranium. He asked me to get large quantities of uranium in a mine unknown to Muggles. I was to bring him as many rocks as I could fit in my bag. I never wondered why, until now."

"Albus Dumbledore played Voldemort like a child," Snape said. "The dices had been placed all around the grounds; their energy was strong enough to mask the magical signature that the destruction of a Horcruxe leaves behind."

Snape had a relapse, his eyes rolled and he started to gasp for air.

"Everyone out," shouted Madam Pomfrey. "Professor Snape needs to rest. Out I say!"

The staff left the room, chitchatting with one another, trying to make sense of all they had heard. Luna, Neville and Ron were told to go back to their dormitory by Professor McGonagall. Only Harry remained, having glimpsed at Snape's hand telling him not to go. Madame Pomfrey threw a disapproval look at the young wizard as she helped Snape lay sideways on his pillow. She made him drink two full cups of salt water and disappeared in her bureau.

Harry took Snape's left hand, which surprised the sick man. Severus Snape looked at Harry without saying a word. Harry felt awkward, thorn between his need to believe in Snape and his instinct to hate him no matter what.

"I had to be ruthless," whispered Snape. "To tell you the truth, I resented you from the moment you walked in Hogwarts. You were the living reminder of my actions. I never hated you, but I never liked you."

"I know," replied Harry. "At least, I really hated you."

Snape laughed. The sight did not surprise Harry so much; it was a guttural laugh, interrupted by hiccups.

"Rightfully so, but I did not have that luxury. Had you only been the son of James Potter, I could have hated you without one spec of shame, but you were Lily's son… that I could never hate. The Evans were good to me.?"

"The Evans?" repeated Harry.

"Your mother and her sister. I first met Petunia when she tried for Hogwarts. She was as awkward as I was. I never felt more alone than the day she said she had been kicked out."

"You knew aunt Petunia?"

Snape chocked and had to lie on his other side due to the pressure on his lungs. Madame Pomfrey rushed over to help him, not without blaming Harry.

"You will have to leave young man."

"Wait!" Snape said grabbing Harry's hand. "I need to know what happened when you turned seventeen."

Harry was surprised by the question but nonetheless, told everything that happened and how the protection spell held on, even after the hour of his birth, seventeen years ago."

"Professor Dumbledore was wrong," Harry said. "The spell at my aunt's house is still active."

"No Harry, I don't think that's what happened. You need to find out about your birthday."

"What about my birthday?"

Once again, Snape went into convulsions, turning white as he tried to gasp for more air. Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey was busy in her office and Harry could stay until Snape regained his composure.

"Did you follow my instructions about not bringing Ginny Weasley here?"

"Yes," said Harry dumbstruck.

"Good. Ginny is still under Voldemort's influence. She doesn't know. I could not completely free her after her adventure with the diary. She is not evil Harry, just unaware."

"That's impossible!" shouted Harry.

"I am not saying she is lying to you. Minerva told me about your relationship. You need to stay focus Harry. We've always known about Ginny but Minerva felt it best not to tell you. You have to follow Ginny and make sure she does not hurt herself, but most importantly, do not let her find out."

"I would have known."

"Impossible Harry. Whenever Ginny is with Voldemort, he possesses her completely. It is how he managed to elude you; this is why your scar doesn't hurt anymore."

Harry could not believe it; then, Snape gave Harry the last blow.

"She was the one next to you when you found the locket…"

"How do I save her?" managed to reply Harry having understood what Snape meant.

"By killing Voldemort."

Snape coughed, blood came out of his mouth; his health was failing him. Before he could say another word, he fainted on his pillow. Madame Pomfrey pushed Harry out of the infirmary.

Harry looked everywhere for his friends but did not find any. He leaned over a window and looked around the grounds to see if he could attract the attention of a familiar face while the party was still in full force. He went back to sit in front of the fire. The pieces of the puzzle that was his life were beginning to fit nicely into a big picture that still he could not see.

Unwilling to moan all by himself any longer, he walked out of the room and headed for the courtyard when he heard noises coming from a long staircase to his left. He turned around swiftly, fast enough to see two children at the top, running from something. They were infants, hardly three. Harry rushed over and followed the nervous giggles up until he found himself alone, in front of the wall hiding the room of requirements.

Hearing someone else moving in his direction, Harry took out his invisibility cloak and hid under it. Professor Phosphoros floated towards him. As he got closer, Harry glimpsed at the bulging eyes red with blood. His mouth also was red, each tooth sharpened and three times their normal size. Yet, the biggest surprise came when he saw the hands: fingernails so long and fine they looked like needles.

Phosphoros shouted "FEED" at the wall and floated through. Harry followed, still hidden under his cloak, finding himself in a maze of darkness and unearthly objects. Locating Phosphoros was an impossible task. For the seventh year in a row, Hogwarts' teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts was turning up to be a foe.

"NOOOO…"

The young voices yelling shook Harry to his core. Gushing sounds followed; no doubt about it, children were being slaughtered. He heard their little feet running all over the floor but the echo kept masking their location. He froze when he reached a space lit by a dim light. What he saw next was hard to accept: Phosphoros, kneeling on the floor, was eating one of the children, more voraciously than an ogre. Harry jumped backward so fast his invisibility cloak fell to the ground. Phosphoros looked at him and paused, the diversion was long enough for all the other children to disappear into dark corners.

The monstrous creature slowly stood up and floated high above the floor, leaving a trace of blood falling from his teeth and claws as it moved in Harry's direction. Harry felt fear as never before, his mind could not think so his legs took the better of him, pushing him away from this place. Phosphoros screamed his name but Harry kept running, banging into objects and walls, till he was outside the room, trying to find where to go next. Fifteen minutes of running without thinking led him into a secluded part of Hogwarts.

He paused to catch his breath. His stomach turned and he was ready to empty its content right there when he heard a huge door shut about twenty feet to his left. He hid behind long curtains hanging over a condemned window. He peered through the dusty velvet and saw Ginny. She was walking as if in a deep sleep, eyes wide open with no expression. She was carrying a rope and a series of sharp hooks. Harry quickly got out behind the curtains but Ginny had vanished.

Only Professor McGonagall could help him now. Harry franticly started to apparate repeatedly. No matter what room or space he ended up, the headmistress office, classes, the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall was not there, nor was anyone else for that matter.

He rushed to go to the grounds but hundreds of people present made his search impossible. He decided to go to the only person whose location he was sure of: Severus Snape. Pushing people around, he attracted the attention of Professor Grubbly-Plank who went after him. She screamed for Harry to stop but he did not listen. The old professor followed.

"Harry!" shouted Grubbly-Plank having difficulty climb so many stairs, so fast. "What's going on?"

Harry ran until reaching the doors leading into the infirmary: they were wide open. Grubbly-Plank got there two seconds later and like Harry, she stopped outside the room. Professor Snape was hanging from the ceiling; his ankles had been tied with a rope that had been nailed into the ceiling stone, his arms were crossed in front of him pinned to his abdomen by curved nails, his head had been pushed up, his chin sewed to his chest with double hooks. Severus Snape looked like a sleeping bat but with one difference, a pool of blood had coloured the bed where he laid an hour ago. The blood came from the top of his brain where a hole had been drilled.

On the floor, about five feet away, Madame Pomfrey was spinning and singing words that made no sense. Snape was dead; she was under the imperious curse.

Harry turned around having heard squeaking noises. Ginny Weasley was there, pure and beautiful, her hands over her mouth, traumatized by the gruesome scene. Though Harry knew she had no idea what she had done, the fact that she had done it made it impossible for him to comfort her.

Chapter 21

misinterpreted but united

Harry spent the following two days hidden from view, secluded in a little tower hanging on a bigger one in the northwest wing. He had informed Professor McGonagall of his needs for isolation to assess all that happened. Running around from labs to magic practices to tutoring left him no time to reflect.

Ginny was most upset about Harry's disappearance while Ron, Luna and Neville had faith Harry was doing something worthwhile.

On the third morning of Harry's self-impose recluse, Ginny search for Ron in the Great Hall since he was not in Gryffindor's common room. She found Neville who informed her that Ron was gone to search for Hermione.

"What?" said Ginny.

"That's all I know. He told me not to worry, that staying at Hogwarts was driving him mad and that he was going to get some help from your father and other members of the Order of the Phoenix."

Ginny had no answer to Neville who quickly went looking for food in order to avoid one of Ginny's furies that had been epidemic lately. She prepared a breakfast tray for Harry and went to hunt him down, wherever he may be hiding. This proved to be more difficult since Harry was not where he said he would, somewhere on the roof. She had been running around for some times when she found Hagrid roaming the corridors. A Giant keen sense of smell was exactly what she needed.

"I'm so glad to see you Hagrid," said Ginny.

"What can I do for?"

"Is it true Giants' sense of smell is better than dogs?"

"Yes," Hagrid said, wondering where Ginny was going with this.

It didn't take long for Hagrid to be recruited as a hound in search of Harry. His young friend had been in his life for so long he did not need a piece of cloth to trace him to a tower in the northwest wing. It took Ginny some time before finding the hidden door leading into a smaller tower where papers and books littering the floor proved that Harry had been there.

"So where is he now?" Ginny said irritated.

"You mean Harry's not here!" said the blind Giant.

"Of course not," snapped Ginny. "Can't you tell?"

"No he cannot!"

The starched voice coming from behind startled both Hagrid and Ginny. She understood the crossed look of Professor McGonagall was meant for her only.

"I thought Harry said he wanted to be alone," McGonagall pointed out.

"Yes, for only two days. It's the third morning; I merely wanted to bring up some breakfast."

"Do not take that tone of voice with me Miss Weasley!" McGonagall shouted defiantly

"WHERE IS HARRY?" Ginny snapped, unscarred by McGonagall's expression.

"It is for me to know and for you to ignore young lady."

"What does that mean?" Ginny was red with fury and walked slowly towards McGonagall, ready to strangle her. The headmistress did not move an inch; she expected as much from Ginny and took advantage of the anger blinding her to freeze Ginny with an unspoken spell.

"What's going on?" murmured Hagrid.

"I'm afraid you will have the guard this tower Hagrid," McGonagall said.

"Surely little Ginny Weasley just lost her temper."

"No, it's much worse. Ginny has never been freed from Voldemort since the diary. No matter what we tried, we could not sever Voldemort's influence. We managed to protect Ginny by making her unaware of her possession. It worked so far as her trance like episodes were short and harmless but Ginny seemed to have lost the battle; Voldemort is getting closer to her soul again. Especially since Severus…"

"You mean…."

Professor McGonagall put a hand on Hagrid's strong arm to help him cope with the enormity of the truth. Ginny Weasley was one of the brightest students he had ever known, in the same class as Hermione; accepting that evil was now governing her hurt Hagrid more than he could bear.

"Harry thought of this scheme to expose Ginny. He knew she would come looking for him so he hid in the most secluded part of Hogwarts. I have sealed this small tower with hiding spells as well as protective ones. Voldemort will not be able to get to her, at least as long as she stays frozen in a half-life state but I cannot be foolish enough to think that my magic will hold for more than a few days which is why I need you…"

"To guard the tower," Hagrid cut in.

The giant walked out of the tower and shut the heavy metal door behind him and Professor McGonagall. The headmistress made the door disappears, replacing it with a brick wall.

"Don't worry," said Hagrid, "if Voldemort controls Ginny again, he will have to deal with me and I don't have to remind you Giant skin is the toughest in magic world!"

Professor McGonagall grabbed both of Hagrid's shoulders and looked into his eyes; they may be blind but she still saw the same energetic light. Hagrid smiled and took both of the headmistress' hands in his, warming them with reassurance. It had been months since Minerva McGonagall solely held the fort; the strong presence of a long time friend soothed her heart.

On her way to her office, McGonagall met Professor Phosphoros and gave him a set of instructions as he would be in charge of Hogwarts during her absence. He disagreed, telling her leaving Hogwarts right now would be a foolish. McGonagall did not want to argue and Phosphoros simply had to face facts.

"Do you know how long you will be gone?"

"It all depends on Harry and what he discovers in Godric's Hollow. What Snape told Harry about his birthday needs to be addressed straight away. You have done an amazing job and your spells are what is keeping the Dementors and Death Eaters at bay! However, as far as Voldemort is concerned another type of weapon is needed. I cannot go into the details right now. I am missing some clues, but Sybille's prophecy cannot be ignored and Snape may well have given us the most important clue."

"Harry will not appreciate being followed."

"Who says he'll be followed…"

McGonagall raised her arms and transformed into a tiny dandelion seed, floating away through a window, carried forward by a wind she controlled.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Phosphoros said looking at the seed disappear over the horizon.

Hermione had been going in and out of consciousness for several days when she was finally allowed to wake up from her half dream state to face Voldemort in person. The evil incarnate wizard was unlike anything she could imagine. Somehow, she thought Tom Riddle would have had some flair, some grandeur, even aristocratic posture but nothing of the sort. She found him utterly despicable, empty of any interesting characteristic: pure evil, nothing else.

"You're not dead because I may need you later," Voldemort said to Hermione, eyes half closed, looking at her as if she was not there.

Hermione was tied to a chair, wrists held by vines on her back.

"We're I am?" Hermione asked.

Voldemort did not answer. He bent down to smell her hair and face as if she was being evaluated to freshness for eating purposes. The stench breath on her throat almost made her vomit.

Voldemort walked out, closing an enormous black metal door behind him. Hermione was disappointed: she had secretly hoped to meet Voldemort, feeling a bit of jealousy towards Harry for being the only one showing up on Voldemort's radar of interesting things to pursue. She could not get over how dreary Voldemort was: the ultimate bully who like any other bullies, once you've overlook their meanness, is nothing else to see.

She would rather have fainted again so uncomfortable her imprisoned position was. At least, whenever she felt thirsty, a glass of water would appear in front of her mouth and the same would go for food: truly, Voldemort wanted her alive. The room was dark, with a spec of light coming from under the big door.

"Who's in there?"

Hermione heard voices coming from the other side, the complete silence she had endured for the past few days sharpened her hearing. She stopped breathing to listen.

"Hermione Granger," spitted the guttural voice of a woman.

"Voldemort needs her for something, probably dinner for the werewolves!" said another voice, which Hermione identified as Lucius Malfoy. One of the other voices belonged to Bellatrix but the third she could not recognize. Bellatrix and Lucius merely tried to top one another with scenarios of what was to happen to Hermione until the third person spoke again.

"She is just a girl!"

"You've always been so pathetic!" shouted Bellatrix.

"Your sister is right," Lucius intervened. "You have to be careful with your outbursts of compassions. It would be tragic, to say the least, if your pureblood lineage would end so soon. You're not dead yet: we will have more children. The Dark Lord is expecting as much."

"How can you say such things!"

It was clear to Hermione the voice belonged to Malfoy's mother: Narcissa.

"Your own son is dead and you go as if it was the last thing on your mind."

"Because it is the last thing on his mind," replied Bellatrix. "We've all lost someone! You're no different from any of us. At least you're still young and you'll be able to have children."

"You disgust me."

"You will learn to love us again," Lucius Malfoy said.

Hermione distinctly heard Bellatrix laugh and walk away with Lucius, leaving Narcissa to sob on the other side of the door. Hermione thought of something but hesitated, believing it was too crazy. Just as she heard Malfoy's mother move away she shouted, careless of what the consequences may be.

"Your son is alive!"

The sobbing stopped. Hermione succeeded in getting her attention. Narcissa banged on her door furiously and occlumently screamed; "how dare you talk to me"

Narcissa's occlument powers were much stronger than Harry's; Hermione felt her mind invaded with hot irons. Once the shock was over, Hermione opened her eyes and saw Narcissa standing in front of her. Malfoy's mother looked old, crippled; no doubt her son's death had taken a toll.

"Draco is alive," Hermione repeated.

"You dare lie to me!"

"He is alive, at least I think so."

"SHUT-UP!"

Hermione was cerebrally slapped so hard that head was thrown backwards, her chair tilted and she fell on the floor. Hermione laid there helpless. Narcissa put one foot over Hermione's face, grazing her temple with her needle like heel. Hermione felt blood rolling down her forehead but did not fall victim to fear or imploration. Seeing how the heel stopped before piercing her skull, Hermione tried her luck one more time.

"I heard one of our friends say something to Bellatrix about Draco the night Gaunt's house was destroyed. Bellatrix killed my friend before he had time to finish what he wanted to say about your son. Your sister obviously knows something she did not want any of us to hear."

"Why should I believe you?" Narcissus said in a calmer voice.

"You don't have to believe me. You can use your powers as heir!"

Narcissa Malfoy was so surprised to hear these words in Hermione's mouth she removed her heel and sat Hermione back on her chair with a spell. The powers of the heir encompass many secret and ancient talents reserved to purebloods, one being that the first-born can force another person to tell the truth, no matter how strong a wizard that person may be. The downfall of this talent was that it could only be used once; thankfully, Narcissa Malfoy had not tried it yet.

"Why would I waste the Heir spell on you?"

"Because you cannot use it on Lucius and Bellatrix," Hermione said defiantly. "They will know you're using the power and from what I've heard, these two will not hesitate to kill you once you found out what you wanted to know."

Narcissa Malfoy closed one eye and opened the other as wide as possible. She aimed the middle of Hermione's eyebrows and spitted out; "primancesto." Hermione fell into some kind of trance: she got out of her body while Narcissa entered her mind, seeing anything she desired. Once the spell was over, Hermione returned to her body, the sensation resembled that of putting on wet clothes. Narcissa walked frenetically in circles; the realization of how treacherous Lucius and Bellatrix was hard to accept.

"I can help you," Hermione said.

"What can you do for me?" screamed the witch.

"You need to go back to your house. If Draco is alive, he will want to go there. We don't consider him an enemy anymore so you don't have to fear any of us hurting him. Harry told everyone how he couldn't kill Dumbledore. This alone should tell you Voldemort gave up on him, which is probably why he faked his death."

Hermione was making sense, Narcissa knew it, her motherly instincts had been hinting in the same direction for weeks. She never really felt the pain one goes through when losing a son. Lucius himself did not attend the funerals, though he had escaped from Azkaban.

"You need to get me out of here," said Hermione.

"Why?"

"Because I will help you find Draco."

"And why would you want to find my son. You've always hated him."

"Because we need him, he's the only who knows what happened to Snape. The last thing anyone of us wants is Draco dead."

Narcissa's apprehensions dissipated. She freed Hermione from the vines tying her legs and wrists and told her to be silent. Heavy breathings came from the other side of the room, suggesting they may have been compromised. Without thinking, Narcissa raised her left arm, opened her hand as if she was grabbing a ball and said "unio innum primo."

Hermione felt herself becoming light, so light her physical body could no longer be held together. She felt attracted to Narcissa and within seconds she superimposed herself onto Narcissa. Hermione was conscious and capable of actions, but it was Narcissa's body that was doing the walking.

"You will be silent, don't try anything stupid. You will travel in me and will let me do everything. Do not make any decision since my body will be confused."

"What did you do?"

"I told you not to talk."

Narcissa opened the door and walked out. She was swiftly moving towards the exit when two Dementors stopped her and asked what she was doing. Thankfully, they had not seen her get out of Hermione's room. Narcissa mastered all the dominating qualities of an aristocratic pureblood witch and looked outraged at the Dementors.

"Out of my way" shouted Narcissa. The floating creatures kept glaring at her as if something was wrong.

"I am pureblood, I am firstborn."

Hearing this, the Dementors flew backward and vanished into other rooms. Hermione assumed there was more the to Heir spell than the simple truth serum. Narcissa walked pompously slowly, making sure her queen like persona sent clear signals to anyone else. Passing by a door, screams attracted Hermione's attention and she immobilized Narcissa's body.

Narcissa unwillingly went through the door and stood on a small ledge, peering down so Hermione could see Voldemort abuse prisoners chained to a wall.

Narcissa was silently shouting at Hermione to move along but Hermione resisted having recognized one of the prisoners: Lupin. Faint light coming from torches on the opposite wall cast the Voldemort's shadow on the other prisoner; it took some concentration before Hermione could make out the vampire Sanguini. Voldemort stood over a hole in spitting hot lava, immune to the earth's burning flesh.

"You will bite me and will let me drink your blood." Voldemort said to Sanguini.

"Never," shouted the Vampire.

Without a shred of expression, Voldemort grabbed Sanguini by the hair and pushed his mouth over his neck. With his other hand, he lacerated his neck. The smell and taste of the blood was impossible for Sanguini to resist; the vampire gave in and bit furiously. Voldemort's expression remained neutral as if nothing particular was going on. Once the vampire was done, Voldemort pushed his left hand into the vampire's chest, carving the flesh with his sharp fingers. He drank the blood gushing out like a fountain. The vampire, half-alive, saw his heart extracted: with his dying breath, he heard the crushing sound of his soul disappear, along with his heart, into the blazing lava.

Voldemort, blood drooling from his lips, turned to face Lupin and worked his claws worked intensely on Lupin's body. Hermione almost screamed but Narcissa controlled her mouth to stay closed. Voldemort stepped back and waited for Lupin to open his eyes.

"There is a fool moon tonight, I will be back, and you will make me a werewolf as Sanguini transformed me into a vampire."

Voldemort looked down and the lava under his feet and dived in the hole like lighting. Hermione was so horrified she let go her concentration, which permitted Narcissa to run away. Hermione tried to stop Narcissa's body but the witch whispered words that could not be ignored; "there's nothing you can do for him…"

While Hermione was debating what she should do, Narcissa kept running up staircases after staircases until she emerged into the sunlight on a stone terrace overlooking the sea. Hermione wanted to get out of Narcissa's body but could not since the terrace was filled with people: Muggles, taking pictures of the surroundings.

The tourists applauded Narcissa, thinking she was part of the show. Narcissa kept walking and spitting at the tourists who could not have been more pleased. Once on top of the cliff, walking along a dirt road overlooking the scenery, Hermione recognized the famous English attraction: Tintagel, the legendary seaside castle built along a rocky bay, associated withy Merlin and King Arthur.

Ron walked into his new house exhausted. He used his broom until the weather made it impossible, forced a horse to take him for a couple miles and apparated on three separate occasions, sparing his life from Dementors, into places he would rather forget; his apparition skills were less than satisfactory.

"Mr. Weasley!" said Mrs. Farrar, running down the grand staircase.

Her expression carried some joy, pleasing Ron who was in no mood for stupid comments like "what are you doing here?"

"I need to see my father," said Ron. "Where is he?"

Mrs. Farrar took him to the library, opened the door without knocking, assessing as father did not need to be asked if he was free to see his son. Mr. Weasley got out of his chair and hugged Ron long enough for Mrs. Farrar to silently congratulate herself on her wise decision and walk out.

"What are you doing here?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"I need to find Hermione. I'm going crazy at Hogwarts. No one is doing anything over there."

"I know Ron."

Mr. Weasley was proud of the young man Ron had become, unafraid to question Hogwarts authority in order to follow a different course of action. Ron appreciated the look on his father's face but there were more urgent matters to discuss than his sense of duty.

"You haven't had any news at all?"

"None! Tonks and Lupin have not turned up either. I've sent countless teams of Aurores but nothing so far. It is as if they disappeared from the surface of the earth."

"How about the inside of the earth then?"

"What?" replied Mr. Weasley.

"It they are not on the surface of the earth then maybe in the earth or the skies. We have to do something! What's happening with the other members of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"They're doing all they can, that is for the little number of them left."

"Any good news?"

"There haven't been any attacks since the one on Hogwarts. I think it is progress since not a day went by that I didn't hear of a town being destroyed by some new cataclysm. Hogwarts is our first real victory so far."

Ron did not share his father's optimism and opted to change the subject.

"Where's mom?"

"I don't know. You mother came to see me two days ago and told me she needed to take care of something straight away."

"You haven't seen here since?"

"No."

"Why aren't you more upset?"

"Because of these."

Mr. Weasley took Ron to a window where small red roses were in full bloom. Next to each was a name.

"Mom's roses, they're all ok!"

"Even the one belonging to your mother which means that she is all right."

"Hermione's rose is red as well, but that's impossible. I was there when she was kidnapped; she did not wear her robe."

Ron was referring to the day when Ginny pinned the magical roses on there respective robes.

"When will you learn that your mother is more cunning that anyone can imagine. Once the rose is pined, it disappears and tattoos itself to your hand."

Ron looked at both his hands and saw no tattoo. Mr. Weasley took a magnifying glass and put it over a tiny blemish on the back of Ron's right hand.

"Wow," murmured Ron. "Why is it so small?"

"To be less conspicuous."

"What about the clocks we had in the living room. Why aren't they good anymore?"

"Your mother wanted to come up with a new system, one that every visitor we've had over the years did not know about."

Ron contemplated each flower, touching tenderly Hermione's rose. The rose was so fresh Ron almost felt he was caressing Hermione's soft skin.

"So where did mom go?"

"I don't know. She wouldn't tell me."

"You mean she left just like that!"

"When your mother has something in her head not even an earthquake would stop her."

"Do you at least know what happened before she left?"

"She was checking up on our guests; we have over a hundred now. She must have noticed something because she was half way through her rounds when she dropped her coffee tray and came rushing down to see me. She told me she had to leave straight away and that she would be back within a few days"

"You didn't question her?"

"She said that it was best to not say anything after what happened to Snape?"

"You know about Snape!"

"Yes, a black swam came with a note from McGonagall. Somehow what she saw was related to Snape's death."

Ron kept looking at the flowers, trying to figure out what was so important for his mother to leave under such mystery. Mrs. Farrar came into the library carrying tea and biscuits. Ron had a hunch.

"Mrs. Farrar," Ron said. "Are all the guests accounted for?"

"Well they come and go as they pleased, but come to think of it, I have not seen that girl, from that London shop… oh what's her name?

"USHIA!" Ron screamed triumphantly.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Farrar overwhelmed.

"Were you with my mother when she dropped her tray?"

"No. Actually, now that I think of it, a maid told me she came out of Ushia's room."

"Did you go in Ushia's room?"

"Yes but no one was there. The room was quite a mess. I never thought this girl tidy to say the least. Her dress was right in the middle of the floor."

"I have got to do Dad!" Ron said to his father.

Before Mr. Weasley had time to question his son, Ron was already out the door and back on his broom.

Chapter 22

Day of Birth, day of Halloween

It took a lot of scheming but Harry reached the statue in the courtyard without attracting attention. He realized that unless he used his invisibility cloak, he would never be able to go through the hundreds of students relaxing on the grounds so early in the morning: he was too famous to be allowed to stroll by. The problem with his invisibility cloak was that it prevented him from entering the Portkey at the bottom of the winged statue. He had no idea who put such a bizarre magical restriction and frankly, he did not care. He waited for the coast to be clear, took off his cloak, stuffed it in his pocket, and dived into the base of the statue.

He ended up in complete darkness. He waited for his pupils to adapt to the absence of light and concluded that though he was in Godric's Hollow cemetery, time had been altered. Somehow, the second it took to go through the Portkey translated itself into ten hours of human time.

He kneeled down in front of his grandmother's tombstone and used a luminous spell to see the inscription: nothing besides his grandmother's name, not even a date.

Next thing he knew, he was knocked down to the ground by a severe blow to the head. Half conscious, he felt his legs pulled by some man standing over him. He heard some loud voices, which resulted in his feet dropping, free from the handgrip. Someone was kneeling over him, caressing his head. He opened his eyes and recognized aunt Alice. Standing next to her, holding something that looked like a shovel, towered Josephine.

"Harry," asked Alice. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," murmured Harry as he was helped to his feet.

Josephine had hit the graveyard's gatekeeper over the head and was menacing to do it again if the man moved a finger, prompting Alice to reason with her sister.

"No need to do that," shouted Alice. "He's hurt enough as it is."

"I never like that man," Josephine said. "Always lurking around, frightening anyone coming to pay their respects."

"For all we know, he was just doing his job."

"You call hitting Harry over the head doing his job!" Josephine shouted.

Alice conceded she could not win the argument and put one of Harry's arms over her shoulder to help him walk towards their house. Josephine kicked one of the gatekeeper's knee and seeing no reaction from her victim, left the graveyard to help her sister.

Harry was laid on a sofa, pillows were put under his head and blankets covered his body. Now that his mind was functioning normally, he let his aunts do what they do best: care for him.

Mona and Jessy were told what had happened and the argument started once more with Mona siding with Alice and Jessy agreeing with Josephine. The bickering was too loud for Harry's bruised grey cells: not really wanting to insult anyone, he found himself saying; "please."

The aunts looked at one another, furious that they had lost their temper and caused harm to their grand nephew. Josephine cleaned the wound on Harry's forehead while Alice applied bandages. Jessy warmed some cookies in the stove while Mona prepared tea. Within half an hour, Harry Potter was sitting comfortably on the sofa, his legs up, his stomach full and his mind at peace.

"I need to ask you something," Harry said.

"I hope we can answer," Alice replied.

"This may sound a bit strange but something happened at Hogwarts, and you'll have to excuse me if I don't give you any details, but I found out that there something fishy about my birthday."

It was no news to the aunts who kept looking at each other, hoping to would dodge any further questions. Their reaction was all Harry needed to know that he was right. Silence became unbearable so Mona spoke first.

"Well I guess you're old enough to know."

Mona was about to continue when one of Alice's meanest look shut her up.

"Please," Harry said. "No more secrets. That's all I ever had, secrets. I came here because I knew you were the only ones who could help me."

"Who told you about your birthday?" Jessy asked angrily.

"A man who I always thought was my worst enemy but with his dying breath, proved that he had always been on my side."

"SNAPE!" Josephine shouted.

This much Harry did not expect. Snape was a familiar name for his aunts? The best strategy was for him to allow his aunts to talk rather than press them with questions. His eyes wondering from one to the next, he kept eating biscuits and sipping tea.

"All right," Alice said. "First I have to say I am amazed how this secret remained hidden so for all these years. You see Harry, we were sworn to secrecy by your mother and father."

"Lily and James told us it was crucial for everyone to believe your birthday was July 31," Jessy continued.

"I'm surprised Petunia guarded the secret even though she treated you so dreadfully," Josephine said, looking at the ceiling.

"I've always had faith in Petunia," Mona added with a smile. "None of you understand the ordeal she endured."

Another long silence cursed the room, which fuelled Harry's resentment. That the secret about his birthday was due to his mother and father, this he could deal with, but that the monster living at four Privet Drive participated in the fraud was enough to make him fly over there and settle the score.

"Don't go off your horses," Jessy snapped at Harry. "You may blame Petunia all you want, and for good reasons, but she did what she had to do. She was pregnant with Dudley while your mother was pregnant with you. It was common knowledge that Lily and James were swimming in dangerous waters, they were obsessed with destroying Voldemort."

"You have to understand that Petunia got scared Harry, really scared," Mona went on. "She was right to think your mother and father were playing with forces they should have stayed away from. A pregnant woman will go to any length to protect her child. Petunia panicked when she figured out Dudley and you would be born practically on the same date. She convinced you mother to change your birthday."

"Why?" screamed Harry.

"This we don't know," Alice answered. "There were a lot of things between Petunia and Lily they never discussed with anyone else. As we told you during your last visit, Petunia and your mother had gotten very close and Lily felt she was in debt to Petunia for something."

"You were not born on July 31."

Alice words stunned Harry who imagined every possible scenario but this one. Josephine sat next to him, took his hand, and continued the story.

"You were born on October 31, during a wonderful storm on Halloween night. There was lightning and thunder all over; since you were a wizard, it was considered a very good omen. You will be seventeen in just a few days."

Harry's jaw dropped. It didn't take long for him to put the pieces together but before he could say what was on his mind, Jessy took the floor with her Stentor like voice.

"This is why the protection spell on Petunia's house did not end when you thought it would. We went to your birthday knowing very well that nothing was to happen to you. I cannot tell you how pleased we were to see how this secret saved you."

"What about Petunia?" Harry said.

"Of course she knew," Mona said. "By not telling anyone about your real birthday, Petunia outwitted Voldemort as no one else could."

"She did nothing of that sort," shouted Harry.

He would never consider his aunt Petunia responsible for anything good when he was concerned.

"That's enough young men!" said Josephine crossed. "Petunia did what she thought best. Granted, she was despicable with you, but nonetheless, she never told a soul about your birthday and saved your life. Voldemort destroyed half of London but he could not touch one of your hairs!"

"Why didn't she say anything?" asked Harry.

"That would have condemned you to death." Alice took a sip of tea and continued. "Do you think Voldemort simply left once he realized nothing could be done to you? Surely he had someone on the inside working the party for him, someone who profited from the commotion to scan all the brains to see what was wrong. And nothing was wrong since you and your friends believed you turned seventeen."

"But you knew, and so did Petunia," Harry said.

"Ah, but you see my young man, Voldemort and his kind are arrogant! These powerful wizards would not waste a spec of magic on Muggles like Petunia and us," Mona said with the brightest of smile.

"How wonderful that the biggest flaw of those who think they are better than us, is precisely that they believe they are!"

Alice's wise remark was followed by giggles from her sisters though Harry was still ambivalent about the goodness of Petunia's actions.

"There must have been terrible screams amongst Voldemort and his followers when they found out Harry Potter was not harm, even once he was seventeen."

There was so much sense in what Josephine said Harry's anger dissipated. Since July 31, he had nourished the idea he was some super wizard. Though his aunt's explanations were humbling, Harry left some weight lifted off his shoulders. It was as Professor McGonagall said; they would win the war with deception and intelligence.

"But how could I have been born five months later," said Harry who still needed to clear up a few things. "Surely someone would have noticed I was not the right age, a five months difference is a lot for a baby."

"Blame it on magic," Mona said. "When it was time for your mother to give birth, James called on us to assist. He used his magical watch and moved the time forward to October 31. We didn't bother asking why or how. At the time, we naively thought it was a special gift magical parents offer their children: bring them into this world on the sacred night of Halloween."

"You cried like a monkey," said Alice, laughing. "Stubborn infant, kicking and screaming: one healthy energetic baby boy. Since your father didn't want to linger in the future, the minute you calmed down, James turned back the clock to July 31."

Alice stood up all of a sudden, her mouth opened but no words came out, within seconds she turned into a statue made of salt, skin so white it was blue. Harry jumped to his feet and wand in hand, surveyed the room to find the culprit. Another second and it was Josephine's turn to suffer the same faith as Alice. Mona escaped to the kitchen while Jessy, the slowest, could not make it to the door; she too solidified.

"WHO'S THERE?" shouted Harry.

A shadow manifested itself right over Alice's head; it formed a circle on the ceiling then dripped to the floor, forming a dark murky mass. A man emerged. Harry waited to see who it was before using any spells. The man walked towards him, his heavy boots pounding the floor, his breathing heavy and famished like. Lucius Malfoy appeared in the dim light coming from the windows; he pompously regained his composure and hooked a demonic smile on his lips.

"Well, well, well," said Lucius, hands on his hips. "Harry Potter, a fraud: not yet 17 are we?"

"What have you done to my aunts?"

"These Muggles things…" murmured Lucius with disgust. "Just be thankful they are not ashes or dead. Not to worry, this will surely come to be… in a near future. Right now, I need them alive for collateral."

"What do you want from me?"

"Oh, but I want nothing from your puny self. Lord Voldemort demanded you remain alive. You see Potter; you have created quite a commotion after surviving your birthday. The Dark Lord was quite upset; he killed over fifty of his Death Eaters thinking that a foe was amongst his disciples. After all, how else could you have survived… "

"But I did!"

Harry's comment infuriated Lucius who had been hiding a globe of dark energy in his hand; he threw it at Harry without thinking. Harry scarcely had time to duck before the ball hit a wall and exploded in millions of burning ambers.

"I see your reaction speed has improved," Lucius said with a smile. "But of course, not good enough to use a counterspell, which is all one can expect from a halfblood. Is that all you've learned at Hogwarts? What about those lab rats working at the Ministry, nothing new from them either?"

Before Harry could grab his wand, he was thrown to the ceiling and kept there by a force field Lucius managed to sustain with one finger. Harry felt his heart collapse; his lungs could barely take air in.

"Don't worry," Lucius said calmly. "I will not kill you; I will not deprive the Dark Lord of such an immense pleasure. I too can follow orders you know."

Suddenly, the pressure disappeared and Harry fell on the sofa. He jumped to his feet and saw Lucius on the floor; standing over him was Mona, holding a heavy saucepan. She bent down, grabbed Harry's wand and handed it to him. Lucius, pretending to be unconscious, remained still until Harry was close enough for Lucius to turn around and send a magical burst directly into Harry's chest. Mona raised her pan in the air but Lucius viciously threw her backward; she hit a wall and came crashing down to the floor where she laid unresponsive.

"You will die!" shouted Harry.

A battle of titans ensued. The jinxes were so powerful walls were collapsing. Harry, conscious his aunts were directly in the line of fire, blew a window open and jumped through it. Though his fall was only three feet, the hard ground he landed on was enough to sprain his left hip. He ran as fast as he could and hid in the rubbles of Old Gryffindor's house.

Lucius used a levitating spell and began blowing up everything in Harry's vicinity. Harry refused to come out of his hiding spot, which provoked Lucius into changing tactic.

"Why resist me? I told you have the upper hand. I cannot kill you!"

Harry profited of a moment when Lucius had his back to him to stand up and try a jinx but it flew just inches away from Lucius' shoulder. The flying wizard paralyzed Harry with an ice spell.

Lucius touched the ground right in front of Harry and smiled at the good work he had done. The overconfident wizard forgot to look at Harry's hands. The young wizard succeeded in breaking the ice spell thanks to a trick he learned from Phosphoros. An ice spell takes time to work; first, it attacks the skin then makes its way towards the internal organs. If a wizard is quick enough, he can contract all his muscles, increase his internal pressure and create raise his temperature: ice spells require constant decrease of temperature otherwise they disintegrate.

Harry raised his wand so quickly Lucius forgot to react, busy that he was feeling appalled that his spell did not work. Harry threw jinxes after jinxes, forcing Lucius to walk backward. If Lucius was great at the attack, he was terrible in the defence department, considering such knowledge was beneath him.

Harry relentlessly tried to hit Lucius who kept fending off everything with his wand. Harry finally saw an opportunity: few feet in the back of Lucius, stood a gigantic elm tree. Harry aimed at the base of the tree, making sure to use a spell weak enough to break the front half of the trunk. The elm fell forward slowly but effectively enough for Lucius not to have time to turn back.

The tree crushed Lucius in such a way only his head was free. His legs were broken and his arms were tied under his back. Pinned to the grass, unable to move, Harry moved forward with his wand steadily pointing at Lucius' head.

"I will kill you," murmured Harry.

"You don't have it in you," spitted Lucius.

Harry started to whisper; "Avada Keda…" but stopped. His heart was pumping so fast he thought Lucius did something to him. Harry tried again but the same thing happened, he could not finish the curse. Harry was not fighting Lucius anymore; he was fighting himself.

"That's enough Harry."

Harry looked at the Evans house where a woman had stepped out of one of the broken window: it was Professor McGonagall. She was walking with her wand pointed directly at him. Harry was caught in a swirl of powerful emotions, unable to figure out if he should continue killing Lucius of if McGonagall was the enemy.

The old witch kept moving, slowly lowering her wand. She stood next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Harry was crying, he had no idea when tears started to pour down his eyes, but he was crying.

"I… wanted… I wanted… to kill him…" mumbled Harry. "Why can't I kill… kill him..."

"I know Harry," said McGonagall with compassion. "You should go in the house and attend to your aunts Harry."

"But Lucius…"

"You better go. I will stay with Lucius."

Harry lowered his wand, helped by Professor McGonagall, then ran when he heard Alice cry and Jessy scream. Minerva McGonagall looked down at Lucius and stared at him as if he was some big mushroom growing on trees. The Death Eater was far from being dead and resented being looked in this fashion.

"You can't kill me," said Lucius vehemently. "Lord Voldemort has protected all his disciples with spells none of you could even begin to understand. I am impervious."

"Well, from where I'm standing, you look everything but impervious."

"My forces will come back and anything you try will dissipate in no time. It was too funny to watch Potter try to kill me, as if he could!"

"How wonderful that he didn't."

Lucius' expression changed: he did not understand what McGonagall meant. The witch lowered herself to take a better look and decided to kneel down, her knees touching Lucius' temple.

"I had imagined Voldemort would equip his followers with magical armours. Voldemort is so predictable, it's almost sad. But again, your arrogance is preventing your from seeing the big picture. You see Lucius, Harry did not know you would be protected from the Avada Kedavra curse. The fact that he could not say the words it is not due to some stupid little gimmick Voldemort came up with but to something much more significant."

Minerva McGonagall put her hand under the tree and started to look for something in Lucius' coat pocket. While doing so, she continued.

"Harry did not kill you because he couldn't, not that he's magically incapable but because he himself won't do it. Harry is a hero, a real hero. I can't imagine you would understand the concept of Hero, Lucius, but suffice to say, Heroes are governed by their own honour. Sadly, neither you nor I are Heroes, we have common blood running in our veins."

"If Potter cannot find the courage to kill, this will be his demise," Lucius said.

"On the contrary, it is his greatest strength. OH!" said McGonagall with a smile, "there it is!"

She retrieved a silk handkerchief from Lucius coat pocket and admired it for the longest time, making Lucius so nervous, he started to sweat.

"Like I said Lucius, I am no Hero and unlike Harry, I can kill."

"You stupid witch!" screamed Lucius. "Your magic has no lasting effect on me!"

Minerva McGonagall slowly started to push the handkerchief down Lucius throat.

"Of course jinxes cannot kill you Lucius," McGonagall said calmly. "Though you may want to deny it, your physical body is human. Your heart needs to pump, your stomach needs to eat, and… your lungs need to breathe. Your magic may not be mortal but your body is."

Lucius started to choke; the handkerchief was deeply in his oesophagus, air was not making its way up to his nose. Minerva McGonagall took his face in both her hands so he would have no other choice but look at her.

"I want to leave you with one last thought as you leave this earth. Maybe this is the only way I can redeem you from Hell. Draco is alive…"

Lucius' eyes opened wide and he tried to spit the handkerchief one last time. Lucius Malfoy lived another thirty-one seconds before drowning in his own saliva. The traumatized look that endured on his face, even after death, reassured McGonagall he had some human left in him.

Chapter 23

Harry Potter's grandmother

Ron rushed out of the house a bit too fast: as he climbed over his broom, he realized he had no idea where Draco's house was. He went back in, remembering his mother kept an address book in the main living room. His father had gone and Mrs. Farrar was nowhere in sight. He looked in one of the three desks near the window but was distracted by something else: the roses.

"Bligh me!" Ron said.

His rose, the one tagged with his name, changed colour as he got closer. Not a major change but subtle enough to notice. If he moved away, the rose darkened. The colour of Hermione's rose was so pale he could hardly see any red it, maybe some pink. He caressed it, telling himself that though she might be far, she was alive.

An idea hit Ron's brain so hard he congratulated himself aloud.

"Ron Weasley, you are absolutely brilliant."

Hermione's rose was the same as is which meaning he could use it to locate her. Impulsively, he took an empty cup on a desk, carefully dug around Hermione's rose and took it out from the pot. He inserted the delicate flower into soil he had filled the cup with and poured water; the transplantation did not injure the flower. About half an hour later, the petals were as fresh as before: his plan worked.

Once high in the sky, firmly anchored on his broom, Ron started to cover large amount of land, willing to go anywhere the rose would take him. The darkening effects were dismal at first; it was hard to pinpoint the minute changes of colours and keep his broom from drifting few degrees off course.

Hours went by without Ron making any real progress. Finally, the rose turned a dark red. He could not understand what Hermione was doing so close to the sea, in a spot packed with Muggles strolling about. Yet, the rose was adamant; Hermione was somewhere below.

Ron was too high in the sky for any of the Muggle to identify him. This posed a problem since he needed to land where no one was around. Then the rose fainted; it happened so fast Ron did not have time to see when it occurred. No matter where he would turn, the rose remained the palest of white. Depressed but not defeated, Ron flew his broom in all directions.

Having gone as far as fly over the empty sea, he decided to go to Malfoy's house, hoping his mother would answer his questions. He had left the house too excited to remember writing down Draco's address and so headed back home. Cold weather forced him to go down into a warmer altitude, right over a hip suburb, populated with rich mansions, which, by all accounts, were owned by wizards.

Ron immobilized his broom in midair to make sure he was not imagining things: the rose kept getting darker as he was aiming for the grounds but Hermione was nowhere in sight. He landed in the middle of a street. The rose insisted that the only person in this street, an older woman, was Hermione. It was impossible since he knew who the woman was.

"Mrs. Malfoy!" said Ron softly, not to startle her.

The rose was as at its darkest. Narcissa Malfoy turned around and said nothing. She was having trouble control her inner Hermione and did not want to be delayed by some stupid lovesick teenager. Narcissa speeded up the street until she reached her house. Hermione tried to slow her down but the longer someone is encapsulated by a wizard or a witch, the harder it is for that person to use her or his free will.

Ron was not about to give up and followed Narcissa. He found the front door opened and went in. His own mother was standing in a living room, right next to an entrance hall.

"What are you doing here?" Mrs. Weasley said to her son, almost ignoring the witch standing in front of her.

"Never mind him," shouted Narcissa, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!"

Mrs. Weasley turned her head towards a gigantic fireplace and said; "you can come out now."

A very skinny, white as a ghost, terrified Draco, emerged from the back of the chimney. The shock was so great for Narcissa she forgot about Hermione and rushed over to embrace Draco. Hermione stayed in the same spot, transparent at first but visible enough for Ron to see her. Her physical body took some time before all its molecules cohered but when they did, she was crushed by Ron who, for once, didn't care how strong he was.

Everyone started talking at the same time, except Mrs. Weasley who enjoyed this burst of blissfulness, so proud of herself for having trusted her hunch when she first saw Ushia's dress lying on the floor.

"What happened," said Ron to Hermione, with enough volume to silence Draco and his mother.

"I have so much to tell you but not here," murmured Hermione, insinuating the Malfoys were still in the doghouse as she was concerned.

"I want to thank you Molly," said Narcissa to the only person in the room from whom she knew had complete trust.

Narcissa then turned to Hermione, and though she was filled with resentments, found the courage to say; "I don't know how you did it, but you were right. My son is alive."

"I'm sorry to be so blunt Narcissa," Mrs. Weasley said, "but we don't have time for a sentimental reunion. We need to get out of here fast. That includes you and Draco."

"I just got my son back!" Narcissa shouted. "We are not leaving our house."

"I understand," Molly said, "but it is too dangerous here, especially for Draco. Let's go now."

Draco was silent and numb, a mere image of the young arrogant man he was just months ago. He stood there, waiting to do as others saw fit. Narcissa wanted to argue against their eviction when screams came from somewhere outside.

"NO," shouted Mrs. Weasley to Ron who wanted to see what was happening.

The shouting increased in volume and in numbers. Turning to Narcissa, Mrs. Weasley had to yell; "NARCISSA!"

Draco's mother immediately conjured a sealing spell over the room, her motherly instinct in tune with Mrs. Weasley's. The living room went dark even though bright sunshine was hitting all the windows. Mrs. Weasley, seeing the three young wizards looking out the window with wands in hand, froze them so they would not interfere. Any sound was a dead giveaway of their presence so Narcissa and Molly communicated occlumently.

"Who are these people?" Narcissa asked, watching hundreds of people, of all ages, run up the street, in front of her house.

"Refugees: we sent them here since most of your houses were empty after you joined Voldemort. What are they running from?"

Mrs. Weasley had no answer but Narcissa could well imagine. Her worst fear manifested themselves when deformed house elves came out of houses, chasing their inhabitants. This could only mean one thing to Narcissa.

"I can't believe he's going through with this!"

"What?" shouted Molly.

Narcissa did not need to explain, the slaughter began immediately. The elves multiplied: four of them for each victim. The sickly looking creatures overpowered anyone in their path, from the weakest of children to the strongest of adults.

"THEY ARE GOING TO EAT THEM!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

"No, they only want their hands," Narcissa was barely able to say.

Sure enough, the elves pinned down refugees after refuges to the ground. They worked in teams: two elves to immobilize the victim and two other, equipped with knives, to saw the hands and put them in a bag tied to their backs.

"We need to go help them…" Molly said, trembling.

"This will be suicide. Even if we kill a thousand of them, ten thousand more will come."

"Why do they want hands," Molly said, horrified at herself for not doing anything.

"They will become torches. Voldemort will use them as candle holders when he blocks all light coming from the sun…"

Mrs. Weasley was flabbergasted and about to ask more questions when a terrible bang knocked her down. A dragon had landed on the Malfoy's front lawn and was destroying the house with his giant tail.

"THE SEALING SPELL WON'T HOLD FOR MUCH LONGER" shouted Molly. "I'M A FIRST BORN LIKE YOU NARCISSA, WE NEED TO MERGE."

Both women started to run around the room, frantically looking for something until Narcissa shouted that she found it: a knife. Mrs. Weasley extended her arms and Narcissa made inch long lacerations to both her hands and forearms. Handing the knife to Molly, Narcissa endured the same treatment. The two women forcedly grabbed their forearms and were surrounded by dark light.

"Conduum condudi," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Draco," shouted Mrs. Malfoy.

Draco became diffused and flew into the space between the two witches like smoke being sucked in.

"Ron," said Mrs. Malfoy and the same phenomenon occurred. Hermione followed and only the two witches were left in the room.

"WHERE?" shouted Narcissa.

"Let me," replied Mrs. Weasley.

Just as the dragon broke the windows and debris flew everywhere, Mrs. Weasley apparated Mrs. Malfoy and herself out of the room.

It had been a good day for Harry if not for one exception: Ginny was locked in a tower. His aunt Mona suffered terrible injuries and Professor McGonagall repeated the spells Hermione and Ron did for him some weeks ago. The tiny frozen Mona was put in an energy ball and tucked away in one of Professor McGonagall's pocket: she brought Mona to a Muggle hospital.

Harry was dead set against letting someone as unfamiliar with Muggles as McGonagall become an ambulance. Hours ago, as no one really knew what to do, Harry called Mrs. Granger and learned of Hermione's return. He had a quick talk with Mr. Granger who explained how Mona would be better at his hospital, under his care. Problem was the six hours drive. McGonagall considered the mater closed as she announced she would fly over there.

Professor McGonagall got precise directions from Doctor Granger, especially what to look for when flying over London. Hermione's father would be waiting in a secluded part of his hospital so the staff would not go to pieces when seeing an old witch fly in a hospital room on a boom.

Mona safely on her way, Harry started the repairs of his aunts' living room. He could not bring it back to its original state but at least a solid wall was erected, separating the interior from the exterior. He succeeded in repairing the sofa and a lamp, but not much else.

Josephine, exhausted from all the commotion, felt a jilt in her heart and was immediately put to bed. Harry did not mind going to bed early since he could not remember the last time he slept. Tucked in a bed, Jessy kissed him and fluffed his pillow while Alice handed him a photo album.

"I'm sorry we don't have hundreds of pictures like any normal British family," said Alice, "but the few we have will please you I'm sure. There's even a picture of your grandfather and grandmother."

Harry got up one last time, to answer the phone. Professor McGonagall had safely arrived and confirmed Doctor Granger did not consider Mona's condition severe, nonetheless, she would stay a couple of days for observation. Before hanging up, the headmistress gave Harry some recommendations.

"I expect you at Hogwarts no earlier than supper Harry. You need a much deserve rest and I order you to abuse it. One last thing, it is best that the 31 of October issue stays between us for the moment."

Harry agreed and had to explain that he would hang up since Professor McGonagall could not bring herself to do something so cavalier. He shared the funny moments with his aunts who had tones of similar stories of how clueless wizards were when confronted with Muggle technologies.

Back in his bed, with good news about his aunt, good news about his birthday, good news about Hermione and somewhat ok news about Ginny who at least was safe for now, Harry looked at faces from the past without thinking about anything else.

The first picture corroborated his aunts' recollection of how close his mother and Petunia were during their early childhood. He kept moving from one picture to the next until one terrified him: his grandmother.

It was an old photograph, taken around her wedding to his grandfather. Though she looked blessed and in her white dress, it was her face Harry turned away from. He took the picture out of the album and brought it near the light. For what reason this kind face terrified him, he could not tell, but it did. He got up and went to see if his aunt Alice was still awake.

"Come in Harry," Alice said, sitting in her bed, a book in her hands. "I am too old to fall to sleep so fast."

"Can I ask your question?"

"Of course Harry."

Harry put the photo over Alice's book and waited for a reaction. She smiled, remembering the soft and kind face of her sister-in-law.

"Oh yes, your grandmother."

"I remember you telling me you had no idea where she came from."

"Your grandmother was very mysterious. Whenever we asked questions about her life, she only said one thing: she was raised within a family of servants and spent most of her life as a maid to some rich family somewhere."

"That's it?" shouted Harry frustrated. "Her mother and father were servants!"

"I didn't say that, just that she had been raised by them. Why is it so important?"

"You don't remember the name of the people she worked for?"

"Of course not Harry," Alice said annoyed. "Your grandmother never discussed such matters with us. She made a clear-cut wit that life when she moved here and never looked back."

"I have to leave," Harry said on a whim. "There is something I need to figure out straight away."

"I knew you'd say that," Alice replied. "You spending a whole day with us was too good to be true. Don't worry, I understand, I've been living with wizards and witches all my life. You have to promise to come back soon."

Harry kissed is aunt on the forehead and walked out. Coming back to his room to fetch his robe, he saw a shadow moving along a wall. He was too in a hurry to figure out if it was the same shadow asking him to remember or something worse. He waited a few minutes but the shadow was gone.

"KREACHER!" Harry yelled.

He repeated the name a couple of times before his elf appeared, disgruntled and half-asleep as usual.

"You will stay here and look out for my aunts."

"Kreacher will not look after Muggles."

"YOU WIL DO AS I SAY!" Harry shouted. "IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

"But Master Potter, Kreacher cannot…"

"ENOUGH!" bellowed Harry. "I'll call you tomorrow. Now stay here and do as you're told."

Harry took the photograph of his grandmother, put it in his pocket and jumped on his broom in the direction of Riddle's estate. He arrived near the gloomy and forsaken mansion late in the night. He thought of getting some backup but Hermione and Ron were too far and there was no time to lose. Before making his decent, Harry covered himself with his invisibly cloak though the estate seemed deserted. Just a precaution in case the groundkeeper was hiding somewhere.

Unlocking the front door was so easy Harry wondered if there was anything left to find in the House. It had been abandoned for so long, an unlock door was an signal to robbers that nothing of interest was left to steal.

Once inside the entrance hall, the rather welcoming atmosphere surprised Harry. Looters and vagrants took everything of value, walls were empty and furniture was absent: just plain empty rooms mostly painted in light soothing colours. He proceeded up a series of stairs and stopped when the hissing sound that had been following him since he entered was impossible to ignore any longer.

Harry felt strangely cold but not in an uncomfortable way. It was as if he was transforming into something else. He allowed his senses to soak in this strange impression when it suddenly hit him: his snake ancestry was asserting itself.

Harry turned around and smelled through his tongue: a snake was following him. With the invisibly cloak hiding him, he watched the snake zigzagged slowly up the stairs in his direction.

"Nagini," murmured Harry in Parseltongue.

The snake Nagini understood. It stopped four steps down from him and raised itself, standing tall on the end of its tail. It was bigger than Harry imagined, nine to ten feet, its head facing Harry's eyes. Harry could tell the snake was puzzled, it sensed Harry's presence but its eyes were unable to see him.

Since his scar did not hurt, Harry inferred Nagini was not threatening. Being Voldemort's familiar, if it had been scared, Harry would have felt it. Nagini swayed down and moved: Harry followed as silently as possible.

He ended up in a room hidden behind curtains at the end of a corridor. The door was slightly opened; Nagini went in. The snake swirled up some kind of pole covered with a cushion on which it spiralled itself. It kept looking at Harry who stood in the doorway invisible.

"Why the disguise Master?"

Harry did not expect Nagini would think he was Voldemort. How could the Dark Lord's familiar mistake him for such a despicable wizard?

It was the perfect opportunity to kill Nagini but it would go against every scenario he had imagined, not to mention interfere with the prophecy. He would have to give up his life right here, right now: Harry grasped this was not to be.

Candles lit themselves and a dim glow peered over the many objects dispersed in the room. The candle spell was one of Voldemort, Harry was sure of it. He could not get over how astute his instincts were, ideas coming to his mind freely, the most important being the absolute certainty this humble maid chamber had once been occupied by his grandmother. There were no pictures on the walls, no diary on a desk, nothing to suggest who had lived here, but Harry knew. Standing in his grandmother's bedroom was terribly disturbing for him.

"Why the distraught?" Nagini said. "Every time you come here you end up upsetting yourself. There's nothing for you here Master, you've said it yourself."

Harry guessed Voldemort felt a pull to this room but unlike Harry, he did not know why. Nagini got nervous since Harry stayed 0stubbornly mute. He wanted to stay and open all the drawers but Nagini forced him into immediate withdrawal.

As he went out, right next to the door, his eyes fell on a shiny necklace on the top of the dresser. He grabbed it, knowing Nagini was extending itself, ready to strike: the temptation was too strong. It was a golden chain with a heart for pendulum on which was inscribed "Merope."

"It's just a necklace a maid stole from you're mother's house; you said it yourself Master," Nagini hissed frustrated. "Why do you need to look at it again, what's wrong?"

Everything became crystal to Harry; the excitement must have changed his smell for Nagini jumped from its pedestal, fangs out, and ready to bite. Harry closed the door behind, causing the snake to crash and fall to the floor.

His scar hurt; Voldemort was on its way. Instead of running down the stairs, he kept going up, hearing the loud noises Nagini was making against the door. The pain was so overbearing he could not focus on where to go, where to hide or go back to fetch the invisibility cloak that had fallen off.

He was paralysed. His body left the floor and levitated back down to the bottom of the stairs where Voldemort stood. The Dark Lord looked so bewildered he did nothing but stare at Harry's hand, eyes glued on the necklace.

"What do you know about this?" Voldemort said.

"Merope was your mother," Harry said in one breath.

"I know that. Why were you in that room?"

"Because of this," Harry said, putting his hand in his pocket and showing the picture of his grandmother to Voldemort.

The Dark Lord grabbed the picture. Voldemort had changed; he had two long and sharp incisor teeth like those of vampires, scars around his neck and the twisted curvature of his spine reminded Harry of werewolves.

Yet, none of these new physical characteristics could trump what was happening to Voldemort's face: a tear appeared on the corner of his left eye, not of water but of a dark and oily substance. He completely ignored Harry and started to tear the picture with his claws. He was engulfed in such a rage it could only be fuelled by a deep wound to his sole. Voldemort fell to his knees and raised his arms to the ceiling, howling like a wolf that had been shot. The Dark Lord's madness blinded him to Harry's escape.

Though Voldemort imposed his towering emotions on him, Harry dealt with hurt so often in the past he aptly controlled it. His conscious mind was not strong enough to do the work so he let his survival instinct take over: he apparated out of there.

Next thing Harry knew, he was outside the house, on a small mountain, overlooking Riddle's estate, which exploded.

Chapter 24

Dumbledore's last words

The civil war that had been raging on earth for the past five days came to a standstill. It officially began a week ago when a nuclear bomb dropped on the southern most tip of South America killed over twenty thousand humans. Though the media tried to downplay the catastrophe in lights of the earthquakes that killed millions, an atomic bomb created unprecedented mayhem in the general population.

The second atomic bomb, though neutralized by German air pilots, helped the crumbling of local economies, governments, social organizations: in brief, human society. The new law became every man for himself. If the fighting was worse in some countries, the looting and killings for survival was just as bad in others. Television and radio news report had disappeared. Each human was fending for his own life and family: the securing of water and food resources came first; sparing a life, second.

The pandemonium suddenly stopped thanks to a side effect Voldemort did not anticipate. The Dark Lord blocked the sun by shielding the planet with a thin veil of magical silk. Voldemort expected his action to be the last straw for Muggles but it had the opposite result. The anger he sustained in Muggle hearts dissipated instantly. The vanishing of sunlight terrorized humans to such an extent they reverted to helping one another.

In the Wizarding community, the likes of Prime Minister Weasley kept on fighting. They had an advantage over Muggles; they were never in danger of starvation or dying of thirst having the capacity to create these resources. The black swans turned out to be highly effective in relying information; at least eight command centres were operational, the three most important being Hogwarts in Europe, Shwanemum in America and Chin, the most ancient magical spot built around the grave of the first Chinese emperor.

The Asian wizards proved so imaginative Voldemort's local Death Eaters were disappearing by the hundredths, killed by the famous terracotta army brought back to life by spells using the rivers of mercury hidden in the First Emperor's tomb.

British wizards found a way to create breeches in Voldemort's silk veil. Not that they destroyed it but they kept at it so relentlessly Voldemort could do little else but patch the holes being the only one capable of it: his enormous ego prevented him from teaching his Death Eaters such powerful magic.

The Dark Lord expected his talents to be all he needed to succeed. His lack of confiding amongst his generals, his reign of terror using lava to destroy anyone questioning his tactics, created detractors among his followers, mostly humans that had been by his side since the beginning. The dark Lord childishly imagined his human followers would simply accept the slaughter of their race in such grand scale.

Voldemort needed a solution to his problems but was willing to do little, incapable of asking for help, convinced he was earth's new God. After a particularly tiresome night where he patched over a thousand holes in the skies, he decided to pay a visit to the only person he could trust: an enemy.

Voldemort abruptly woke Lupin up. Still chained to a wall Lupin was not responding; the Dark Lord used magic to breathe some life into him. Lupin looked at the pitiful figure and laughed at his attempt to confide in him. Voldemort stood silent, neutral, enigmatic and impossible to read. Lupin, who had been kept in the loop by Death Eaters detractors hoping to cut a deal with him in order to spare their lives in case Voldemort lost the war, found only one thing to say.

"You are clueless!"

"I have miscalculated," Voldemort replied. "It never happened before."

"That's because you've never tried to destroy the planet before! Did you think magic was going to let you get away with it?"

"I am magic!"

"No Voldemort," Lupin said without any anger, compelled to consider the man as an immature child.

"You maybe Evil Magic but that's all. Magic needs balance to go on: you've tipped the scale on the side of destruction and now magic is weighing heavily on the side of creation."

Voldemort was not immune to Lupin words but he didn't want to face the implications.

"A good proof is the spell you used just now, giving me energy," Lupin said with a smile. "You bled me so much my heart is barely coping. Go ahead, try your best magic spells to keep me alive and I promise you, I will be dead in an hour or so."

"Then your theory will be disproved since your death will be destruction."

"In your limited capacities to understand maybe," Lupin said, coughing blood. "My death is such a little price to pay; it is the only way Magic can create peace by destroying my suffering."

Voldemort lost his patience: Lupin's logic made him throw up. The Dark Lord could not suffer being wrong; he impulsively opened a hole in the floor from which lava overflowed. Yet, Voldemort stayed and kept looking at Lupin. Tom Riddle, whatever was left of him, asked himself whether he should listen more or kill straight away.

"Your hesitation is confirmation you want to listen," Lupin said wisely.

"You may talk as much as you want, I am here to watch the lava burn you inch by inch."

"There can be no winning from destruction," Lupin said, feeling he needed to try a desperate attempt at reaching the spark of Tom Riddle he had just seen.

"Magic is Nature and Nature needs to create to prevail. If Nature only destroys, none of us would exist. If collisions of atoms do not create molecules than the universe can't exist."

Voldemort vanished into the lava flow without having given any indication he had heard him. The lava was ten feet from reaching his toes but already, the heat was scarring his feet. Lupin closed his eyes and whispered: "you have to leave."

A fly moved out of hiding from Lupin's hair. It flew in front of his eyes. Lupin smiled tenderly. The oxygen was practically gone from the room but Lupin found enough to fill his lungs and blow on the fly.

The heat current made it impossible for the fly to come back to Lupin. Its survival instincts took over and it ascended towards a door near the ceiling of the dungeon. It stayed close to an opening where flowed. Lupin followed the fly with his keen werewolf eyes.

"I have loved you more than you will ever know," Lupin said. "I have nothing else to tell you, no warning, no advice. You are my faith and as long as you live, you are my serenity."

The fly wanted to stay but Lupin's screams were unbearable. It is one thing to lose the one you love, it is another to do nothing and watch that person burn inches by inches.

The fly took off and kept moving up the mazes of corridors and staircases that was Tintagel's underground. When it reached open air, darkness was almost complete. The fly let its senses take it close to the sea where it found a rock to land.

The fly transformed into Tonks. A tiny part of her brain was screaming to run to Hogwarts but her heart was too heavy for her to move. It was noon, she knew it, but the sea was dark and calm as if it were midnight.

In the distance, Tonks saw faint rays of light appear over the horizon: dragons using flames burned the dark silk. On the back of each one was a wizard, controlling the beast as if it was a horse.

Lupin's last words resonated in her soul. She was no longer the delicate creature second-guessing herself. Carrying Lupin's love in her heart, she stood on the stone, extended her arm and became a magnificent white dragon, soaring high over the waves.

The slaughter of Harry's aunts was been kept from him for no more than two days; until adult wizards started to talk about the details they saw in a special edition of the Daily Prophet. Hermione read the news first and along with Ron, communicated with Prime Minister Weasley to separate truth from fiction; reality was worse. Their first goal then became to protect Harry who was busy figuring out why Voldemort reacted so violently when he saw his grandmother's picture.

Harry's friends sought council with McGonagall but the headmistress was so stunned by she was told she locked herself in her office and refused to see anyone. McGonagall had developed a close bond with Harry's aunts. Hermione and Ron deeply regretted having been so unrestrained in their account; had they known, they simply would have informed the headmistress of Alice, Jessy and Josephine's deaths.

Ron decided that he would be the one telling Harry. Copies of the Daily Prophet were everywhere and it was a matter of hours before Harry fount out. Ron took advantage of a peaceful moment where Harry and he were at Hagrid's, doing what they promised the giant for weeks: put a roof over his half-done house.

"So, are you going to tell me?" Harry said to Ron, knowing something was wrong.

"You better sit."

Ron took so much time in introducing the topic Harry lost patience and went inside his friend's brain. The problem with using occlumency is that along with the information, the prober cannot stop images from popping up.

The moment he left his aunts, the shadow he had seen in his room took form: it was Bellatrix. She had arrived too late to save Lucius; his death demanded avenging. Bellatrix confronted the three old women and learned about Harry's delayed birthday.

Bellatrix rounded up the three women in a corridor outside their rooms. She blew a wind from her mouth, so powerful it pinned them on a corner between two walls and the ceiling. She kept blowing until she heard bones breaking and cartilages crunching; Harry's aunts fused with one another. When Bellatrix was done, a mass of arms and legs hung on the ceiling like some gruesome piece of modern art.

Harry's first reaction was to call Kreacher. The elf took time before appearing, but once it did, Harry grabbed his wand and aimed it at the tiny creature.

"NO HARRY," shouted Hagrid, Kreacher hiding behind him.

"I TOLD HIM TO KEEP AN EYE ON MY AUNTS!" Harry screamed, blaming his elf for everything.

"That's all he could do Harry," Hagrid said forcefully. "Elves cannot interfere in struggles between wizards and Muggles, it's a magical law!"

"I tried to tell the Master," Kreacher mumbled terrified, "but the Master didn't let Kreacher finish."

Harry dropped his wand and crashed on a chair. It was true, Kreacher tried to tell him just before he fled to Riddle's house. Had he paid attention, his aunts would be alive.

Ron and Hagrid waited patiently for the shock to hit Harry. It came late in the night. Harry had been sitting on his chair, at a standstill, eyes wondering on walls and floor. Ron wanted to say something but Hagrid held: silence was the only cure.

Kreacher vanished the second he sensed Harry had released his grip on him. At one point, Harry looked dead ahead at Ron; his mouth opened and he fell to the floor. Ron grabbed his friend and held him tightly in his arms.

Harry's screams lasted for three long hours, until dawn peered over the horizon. Harry's pain was so immense every wizard in Hogwarts stayed awake, looking in the direction of Hagrid's house, taking in each scream, living Harry's pain as if it was theirs.

It was early afternoon when Harry knocked on Professor McGonagall's door. His anguish had subsided thanks to Hermione who put him through his aunt using her cell phone. Mona believed her sisters died from a fire, having been contacted earlier by local authorities. Harry did not have the heart to tell her the truth and promised he would go see her soon as possible.

Mona told him how much she loved him and how amazing their lives, her sisters and hers, were since they had rekindled, that he should not dwell on their deaths but on the happiness he brought in lives that otherwise would have been incomplete.

Hermione told Harry about Professor McGonagall's self imposed seclusion. Harry stepped into the office and found the headmistress sitting at her desk, hands tied on her hips, silently looking at him, waiting for him to say something.

"My aunt Mona thinks they died in a fire."

"That's because they did," McGonagall said. "Bill sent an Aurore to burn the house so the local people would not find their bodies."

Harry understood that it was all that was going to be said about his aunts. At first, he had not believed Hermione and she told him how upset McGonagall was; now, he could see she was right.

It suddenly dawned on him that no matter how hard McGonagall tried, she was no Dumbledore. Then again, McGonagall never wanted to replace Albus; she was master of her own ship.

Harry had no desire to comfort her; he shared her pain and that was enough. He felt so inadequate; he, not even seventeen, having to pep talk a powerful and ancient witch like McGonagall. It was not fair, worse, it was wrong. The lost of appetite for life in Harry's eyes woke the headmistress from her depressive state.

"I think it's time you talk with Dumbledore Harry," McGonagall said, finding the energy to smile.

"How's that possible?"

McGonagall put on her coat, compassionately touched one of his shoulders and walked out of her office, leaving him alone to wonder. Shimmers of light appeared over Dumbledore's Pensieve: the well where his old master stored strands of memories. Strings of luminous greens and blues emerged and surrounded Dumbledore's portrait until it was as bright as a full moon.

His old headmaster came to life: his eyes opened, he readjusted his specs and smiled of pure bliss when he saw Harry. Harry felt so young, so fragile and vulnerable he sat on the floor and looked up.

"Do not be fooled by my portrait Harry," Dumbledore said. "You can imagine I am not really here. This last magical trick is exactly was it is, just a trick. I have emptied all that I knew in the Pensieve in case you wanted to go back on something or get a better grip on things."

"I miss you so much," Harry said, tears in his eyes.

"I know Harry, I know."

The portrait kept smiling at Harry, waiting for his distraught to fade. Since Harry could not bring himself to ask questions, Dumbledore spoke again.

"I guess much has happened since my death."

"You have no idea."

"Oh I think I do. Strange object a portrait of a Hogwarts' dead headmaster; it listens and stores the conversations of the living. That is if it is not sleeping, which in my case, I am afraid to say, has happened often."

"I have no idea what to do," belted out Harry. "I discovered I had great ants and now three of them are dead. The girl I love is under Voldemort's power and probably trying to find a way to kill me. Earth has been hit by so many cataclysms; the death toll in is the millions. There is a civil war going on, Voldemort has won!"

"Has he?" Dumbledore replied with a bit of sarcasm. "Then, how can you be talking to me?"

"He hasn't finished his work yet. He is so powerful and so evil; he has so many wizards on his side, even humans. I'm fighting a losing battle."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and touched his beard, lost deeply into his thoughts. Without looking at Harry, he said; "but you are not alone Harry Potter. I have heard Minerva talk about her generals… How extraordinary that Hogwarts is a command center where wizard generals gather. All these wizards and humans would be most upset to hear you say that you are alone. You are underestimating yourself again Harry. Having rallied so many important and crucial allies behind you is, in my humble opinion, your greatest achievement to this day."

Harry did not share Dumbledore's optimism.

"Is there something you would like to ask Harry?"

"Professor Trelawney," Harry whispered. "You've said that the prophecy was not really a prophecy, just an accident that got things in motion but according to Professor Trelawney, you were wrong."

"And I stand corrected but not like you think. Of course the prophecy was a real prophecy Harry. This prophecy was too important to be left as is; it needed to be undermined quickly. The only way to do that was to make you believe in Sybil's lack of talent. The moment you appeared in Hogwarts, Tom Riddle was on your case and in your mind. You scar Harry, your scar."

Dumbledore paused to let Harry digest what was said.

"Riddle needed to be misinformed Harry, he could not probe my brain so he went for yours. If you believed the prophecy to be a joke, so would Tom Riddle. But tell me, how did you find out about Sybil and the prophecy?"

"Professor Snape, he told us before he died."

Dumbledore closed his eyes; he had not been informed. Clearly, the man in the portrait was deeply saddened by the news.

"Did you know about my birthday?" Harry said, wanting to change the topic.

"Oh…" Dumbledore said excited, "is there something I should know about your birthday."

"The protection spell at my aunt Petunia saved my life, it held on because my father changed my birthday to July 31 when in fact I was born on October 31."

"How clever of James," Dumbledore shouted. "Your parents have always been full of surprises."

The light surrounding the portrait started to fade. Harry got up and stood inches away from it.

"We do not have much time Harry; the magic holding my memories is weakening. I am sure you have many more questions but I would rather you use the time left to listen."

How could Harry disagree with his mentor! Harry turned off all the lights in the office with his wand so only the portrait would emanate. Dumbledore looked intensely at him.

"I can see by the date on the calendar that tomorrow is October 31. No doubt Tom Riddle knows about it as well. I suggest an offensive tactic rather than solidify your defense. Rally the troops, get all your friends and allies, use as much force as you can and be the first to strike."

There was barely enough light for either Harry or Dumbledore to see one another. The portrait used occlumency to share his last thoughts.

"I truly believe that what will save you is your power to love Harry. I tried appealing to you so often in the past but made little impression I am afraid. I have remained vague and still will do so. I cannot tell you the details of how your love is the key element. If you knew, Voldemort would know. I am appealing to your instinct, your uncanny talent at allowing emotions to guide you. When you will be at your lowest, when you are ready to give in and think all is lost, I want you to remember my words Harry. I want to give yourself up entirely to love. Remember Harry, remember, remember…"

The portrait was as dark as the room but Dumbledore's last words resonated in Harry's mind. Could it be that the shadow following him for the past months was Dumbledore? But Harry had clearly identified the figure of that of a woman!

The portrait was immobile and silent. Harry put one hand over the frame and whispered; "I promise I will remember Professor Dumbledore. If it is the last thing I do, I promise I will remember to love."

Chapter 25

Phosphoros' hunger

Harry relieved Hagrid from his post as Ginny's jail keeper. He found the giant asleep. He peered through a magical window Professor McGonagall had created and saw that Ginny was still in her dungeon, frozen in time. She had not moved an inch nor showed signs of melting. Harry's heart sunk, seeing how beautiful and innocent she looked.

"I knew this would happen!"

Hagrid just woke up; he walked in circles, his hands in front of him. The giant smiled and jumped with joy.

"You're in a good mood," Harry said.

"You can say that again! Madame Maxime told me I should just wait; she'd seen the same thing happen to other giants."

"Can you be more specific?"

"My sight Harry," Hagrid belted out. "It's coming back!"

"But Madam Pomfrey said that you'd stay blind?"

"What does Pomfrey knows about Giants anyway. We have the toughest skin outside and inside. Do you mind staying here for awhile; I want to go tell Professor McGonagall straight away."

Harry congratulated Hagrid with a handshake and watched him try to run without hitting the walls, unsuccessfully. He sat on the ground, his back on the wall, feeling lousy and lovesick. He thought so little of Ginny lately he was ashamed for not trying to do more. He convinced himself that any attempt from his part would endanger Hogwarts. At least, frozen in her icy world, Ginny was no threat to him but more importantly, to herself.

This peaceful moment did not last; it was no surprise for Harry when the "remembering shadow" took this opportunity to nag him again. It stayed about fifty feet away, hidden under a doorway, saying the same stupid words; "remember, remember…"

"This would be so much easier if you'd tell me what to remember!" shouted Harry annoyed.

The shadow did not appreciate Harry's haughty tone: it threw some type of shockwave that hit Harry directly in the face, leaving him with a mild sunburn.

Harry found it impossible to stay awake. Images of his mother and father rushed back to him: he was a baby, cuddled in their arms. At least this time, the shadow did not interfere. The safety and happiness he felt was intoxicating. The melody followed: a strange tune filled with chromaticisim and mystery that could only be described as a lullaby for Halloween. Harry, tucked away in his crib, looked up at his parents, humming to him

"NO!"

It was as if he had been punched in the brain. The shadow did not want him to remember his parents signing to him. He fought the shadow all he could but the memory of him in his crib was gone. The shadow stubbornly kept stopping him right before he would hear them sign.

He woke up. He didn't know how long he was out but the stars he saw through a window told him it was late. A terrible sensation gripped his stomach: he jumped to his feet and turned towards the magic window on the tower: Ginny was gone.

Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville spent the day informing students that a General assembly would take place in the natural amphitheatre outside of Hogwarts. Everyone was expected to assist, Harry as well, if they could find him.

Quarter to eight chimed on the giant clock in the hall; it was too late to keep searching for their friend. The scene outside Hogwarts was unbelievable. Orders were sent all over the world, stipulating that any wizards and magical creature should get to Hogwarts by October 30 as if their lives depended on it.

There was no speck of land, no piece of sky, no inch of water that did not have wizard or a magical creature on it. What's more, human squadrons, with tanks and weapons, had assembled on a hill overlooking Hogwarts' East wing.

In the middle of the amphitheatre, on a magical cloud made of mercury vapours, stood Minerva McGonagall. She had untied her hair for the first time, letting the long silver strings float in the wind. She wore a magnificent coat of the purest white. Gathered around her were Prime Minister Weasley, Sined Rousseau, Olympe Maxime, and the presidents of France, United-States and United Kingdom.

Hermione was terribly upset at Harry for going missing at this important moment. A familiar hand grabbed her shoulder. She turned around and was surprised to see her parents.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione said.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger, along with many other humans, had been invited to assist. Mrs. Granger was going to be in charge of coordinating the attacks of wizards using their brand-new quantum magical physics weapon. Mr. Granger pointed to one of Hogwarts tower and told Hermione a hospital wing had been created where he and other doctors would treat the wounded humans while the staff from St.Mungo would take care of wizards.

"Where is Harry?" said Mr. Granger.

"I don't know," Ron replied. "I hope nothing's wrong."

A heavy silence fell on the crowd, which numbered in the millions. The four young wizards moved to the bottom of the hill, close enough for McGonagall to see them, hoping they would be able to tell her about Harry. The headmistress did not look down; too busy that she was at appreciating and reflecting on the immensity of the moment. She raised one arm to hush the last few voices, her voice magically amplified with powerful occlumency.

"This is the eve of battle. We are strong, but not the strongest. We are wise, but not the shrewdest. Voldemort has the absolute devotion of our mortals enemies as well as pureblood who just a year ago, were our friends. He is so powerful he has crippled the earth with every possible cataclysm, the worst being loss of light."

This information had been circulating for weeks and though it was no surprise, it left a terrible fear over the land. Hermione questioned McGonagall's reasons for petrifying people before battle.

"Each of you has been preparing for this night, nurturing a special talent. I promise you Voldemort has magic that not even I can imagine. This is no time for false hopes, overconfident speeches or cries of luck. It is a time to face darkness itself. I want to remind you what you are fighting for. Look around and you will find an ally where before you saw an enemy. Right next to me are the greatest wizards alive, standing next to humans representing their countries. Humans and wizards together in battle, willing to help one another."

Professor McGonagall stepped back to let Prime Minister Weasley add a few words. He took his wand and pointed it at Ron's group. The four friends, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger levitated onto the cloud. Prime Minister Weasley then pointed his wand at Hogwarts and a ray of light came out from one of its windows: Harry Potter was put where he belonged, next to his friends.

Bewildered, the five wizards looked around, finding it hard to breathe, being the point of interest of millions of pairs of eyes. Prime Minister Weasley put his arms out and gathered the five friends close to him,

"You've all of heard their names, you've all heard their stories. These are the heroes of our time. Heroes who, even as children, fought Voldemort when none of you would. These children have grown into young men and women and in the process have shown us there is no such thing as an invincible Voldemort.

Cheers and applause shook the grounds and the skies. The five friends could hardly do anything but giggle and look at one another with pride and humbleness. Prime Minister Weasley used his wand again, took another person from the crowd and brought him next to Harry: Draco Malfoy.

"Magic does not come from our wands but from our hearts. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, irreconcilable enemies who, because of events bigger than they are, will fight together for a common goal. These alliances are our strength: where we can put our differences aside, Voldemort can only dictate and force his will!"

Harry could not bring himself to take Malfoy's hand but felt some type of compassion for the pitiful man his archenemy had become. Malfoy managed to fake a smile, but not much else.

"Pep talks before a battle are often inefficient and full of lies. Minerva McGonagall was right in filling our hearts with fear. However, I would like to leave you a bit of news…"

Silence was so thick it was as though the air coagulated. The young wizards of the platform were so surprised by Mr. Weasley comical tone they turned around to face him, forgetting about the crowd.

"I will not tell you the exact details because this would endanger our plan, but we do have something Voldemort doesn't: a secret weapon! In a minute or so, each firstborn witch present will start to glow, a reddish glow. Do not be alarmed, especially firstborn witches, this is so you will become beacons."

Ohs and ahs emerged from everywhere as some witches started to emanate red light. There were so many of them: the ratio was about one glowing witch for every ten wizards. On the cloud, Hermione started to glow as well.

"Though they do not know, secrecy being of the outmost importance, these witches are part of our secret weapon. Please, take some time to find the nearest glowing witch and introduce yourselves. Form groups of ten for each glowing witch. This will be your fighting unit: be sure to stick with your group and take care of one another. Once at Tintagel, the secret weapon will manifest itself and all will be revealed."

The grouping went much smoother than Prime Minister Weasley had expected. He thoroughly looked around and saw a dense pack of people deprived of glowing witched: the squadron of human soldiers.

"I see our human fighting friends do hot have any glowing witches assigned to them. Any groups of five people and less please join together so that one of your glowing witches goes to the soldiers."

Nobody moved. Prime Minister Weasley took it upon himself to scan the crowd and started pointing at small groups when his wife, Mrs. Weasley levitated herself and shouted.

"Narcissa, come."

Narcissa Malfoy levitated and followed Mrs. Weasley up the hill. Inspired, other witches put their differences aside and joined their glowing sisters. By nine in the evening, the squadrons of fighters and glowing witches were good to go.

"At precisely midnight, on this the holy day of Halloween, we will depart for Tintagel. I invite you to spend the remaining hours bonding with your groups."

Harry suddenly remembered: he turned to Professor McGonagall and said; "Ginny's gone."

Prime Minister Weasley and Professor McGonagall looked at one another stunned.

"Everyone in my office," the headmistress ordered.

Harry was the last one to arrive. He had seen Professor McGonagall invite Phosphoros and decided it was time to act. He made a quick detour by the room of requirements, found what he was looking for and headed back to the headmistress' office. Needless to say, walking in carrying a two-year-old boy created quite a commotion.

The attention turned to Phosphoros who stared to act strangely. Harry held the child as tightly as possible, his wand in front of him, ready to kill the monster. Phosphoros' nails grew, as did his teeth. He fell to the floor on all fours and slowly started to walk towards the child howling beastly roars.

"That's enough!" McGonagall shouted to Phosphoros.

Phosphors ignored the order: he could not hear her, his hunger occupied his entire brain. There was a child in the room so he needed to feed.

"Harry Potter! You have no idea what you've done!" the headmistress yelled.

McGonagall looked at Neville who grabbed the child from Harry and put him on the table. The child did not scream or cry; he simply sat there, eyes glued on Phosphoros. Neville took his wand and created a small cloud from which water started to pour. The instant the water touched the child, the boy transformed into a small yellowish flower.

"Hory Elmyrde," Neville said, looking at Harry.

When Phosphoros realized what had happened, he nails and teeth reverted to their normal length and he left the ground in favour of his natural floating posture. It looked intensely at McGonagall who tried to avoid his accusing eyes.

"You couldn't possibly expect me to feed you living children," whispered McGonagall, incapable of enduring the silence any longer.

Phosphoros remained still, staring at the yellow flower, trying to gather his thoughts until he burst out laughing.

"How stupid I have been," Phosphoros said. "My hunger was too violent to be able to differentiate between a Hory Elmyrde and a real child."

"Can anyone explain to the rest of us what's going on," Hermione yelled.

"My hunger immunizes me against moral," Phosphoros said, choosing his words carefully, "The reason why you've never heard of Minoans before is that we were banned from Wizarding community over twenty-two centuries ago. The few Minoans left have been living on a secluded Greek island, invisible from anyone but us. Minoans are direct descendant of Harpies: we have inherited immense magical talents and, sadly, their feeding habits. We can only feed on infants. If we do not, we simply stay in stasis, or what human call hibernation. Minerva knew this when she contacted me, she promised I would feed every week. If I didn't, I would not be able to teach."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Prime Minister Weasley said, showing everyone he was in on the secret.

"In a way, I am glad," replied Phosphoros. "My hunger is nothing to be proud of, in fact, Minoans suffer terrible states of depression once they give in to their instinct. At least now, I know I have not killed any child. However, there is a downfall to this: my hunger will not appear again and I will die. It is our life cycle, once we have started to feed on a weekly basis, if the food stops, so do we."

"You see Harry," said Sined Rousseau, also part of the conspiracy, "we could not tell you since Phosphoros would have sensed it from your newly occlumentic powers."

"I propose to use the few hours I have left for a greater good," Phosphoros added. "Minoans have the ability to choose a gender. We hardly do since being single gendered also precipitate our deaths, which, in my case, is of no importance now. By picking a gender, I will increase my powers tenfold. I may even have a real fighting chance with Voldemort. I have to…"

"Phosphoros!" cut in a man, sitting in the back of the room, next to Dr. Granger. "Phosphoros and Luciferos!"

All eyes turned to the person who felt quite stupid having interrupted the wizard as such a bad time, Dr. Granger came to his rescue.

"You have to excuse Dr. Sejam Brickmay who is here to assist me. He is also a scholar in mythological studies. I guess he too cannot resist his instinct."

"Well my dear doctor Brickmay," Phosphoros said, "not many wizards know about Luciferos; I can only congratulate humans for their uncanny desire to learn about the past." The wizard looked directly at Hermione whom he knew would be the other person utterly interested.

"Lucifer is the Roman translation of Luciferos, the Greek equivalent of Phosphoros. Lucifer was never a demon; it is the morning star, the bringer of light. It got messed up around the third century and…"

"That will be quite enough thank you," cut in McGonagall. "If I ever decide to include mythology in Hogwarts' curriculum, I will know who to call upon. But right now, we need to deal with the present."

"I'm sorry," Phosphoros said. "Back to the issue of my gender then. My powers will be greatly influenced by my choice."

"And your appearance," Luna said with her clinical tone.

"Oh sweet Mrs Lovegood," said Phosphoros, laughing. "Always the most observant of observation. Yes, my appearance will change but what will really be different is my magic. If I become a man, I will be able to protect against any magical and non-magical attacks. If I become a woman, I will be able to spread my consciousness and become one with every wizard and human present."

"Then the choice is obvious!"

It was another person who spoke, one who just stepped off the stairs leading to the office. Professor Trelawney was so magnificent it was hard to believe she was the same person. The sear walked tall and decisively, free of the shaking plaguing her hands, eyes sparkling and full of fierceness.

"I am glad to see you've not become a woman Phosphoros," Trelawney said. "I need to change to future."

"I don't think it's time to speak," Prime Minister Weasley said to the sear.

"It is time!" answered Trelawney with confidence. "I have been offered a great gift: Phosphoros."

Trelawney walked directly to Phosphoros and took both of his hands.

"I am the secret weapon."

She paused then addressed the group.

"My searing powers are at their peak. I can tell the future seconds by seconds. I can predict the most insignificant event and the most earth shattering. I will link myself to all the first-born witches. Dumbledore left me his eyeglass before he died: I will use it to multiply myself within time itself and send prediction to every first-born witch. They too will be sharing the same off-space off-time dimension. In doing so, these women will anticipate attacks coming to them five seconds before they happen. They will pass on the information to their team giving them the upper hand and time to choose the right spell.

The group was overwhelmed, except for Prime Minister Weasley who was the genius behind the plan. Hermione, the only first-born witch present immediately felt Trelawney's influence. She tapped into her prophetic powers.

"Not now Hermione," shouted Trelawney. "Prophetic powers are hard to control; they will drain your mental energy in no time. You better put your mind at rest until we are in battle."

Trelawney focused her attention on Phosphoros again.

"My prophetic powers will take all of my energy and concentration. I will not be able to defend myself. So, if you would be so kind."

"Wait," Sined Rousseau interrupted. "I will be your shield and protect you. If Phosphoros can increase your connection, even by a small percent, he should do it."

"Agreed," McGonagall and Prime Minister Weasley said simultaneously.

Phosphoros bowed from the head and smiled. It started to spin and swirl in such strange fashion that it was hard to make out what form he was going to take. The Minoan slowed his spin and descended to the floor. The facial features were softer, the deep brown eyes were now of the most beautiful azury blue: Phosphoros was a woman.

"Professor Trelawney," Harry said, embarrassed to interrupt but feeling he had to. "What about…"

"Ginny?" said Trelawney. "Ginny will not die Harry. I cannot tell you anymore since the future is a delicate affair; I may affect the outcome."

Harry, Ron and Mr. Weasley were disappointed. Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder and winked: her prophetic powers were suggesting much better things for Ginny. She did not want to push her luck with Professor Trelawney and turned her attention towards Professor McGonagall who was about to speak.

The last surprise of the evening came from Tonks who walked in uninvited. Her appearance caused such joy that all who knew her embraced her. She was bombarded with questions until Prime Minister Weasley took over.

"Lupin? What about Lupin?"

"Dead," Tonks said.

Gloom nearly took over the group but McGonagall forgot about her feelings and expected others to do the same.

"What about Nagini?"

"We didn't find it. I've been hiding in Lupin's hair, disguised as a fly. We were kidnapped the minute we landed at Riddle's house. Besides, Voldemort kept telling Lupin it was impossible to destroy his Horcruxes."

"He lied, Tonks," Harry said proudly. "They're all destroyed, except for Nagini."

The silence following was unbearable for Tonks who felt like a complete failure. She desperately needed to redeem herself.

"How do you destroy them?"

"By giving your life," Prime Minister Weasley said. "If you sacrifice your life with the intention of destroying the Horcruxe while holding it, it will be destroyed."

Tonks looked intensely at each person. Ideas raced in her mind. She knew what she had to do but did not want to tell anyone. Lupin's last words were too close to her heart for her to ignore her strength. He had faith in her and she had faith in herself.

"Nagini is mine," said Tonks.

Without adding another word, she transformed into a black swan and disappeared through one of the windows of the headmistress office.

CHAPTER 26

The First World Wizard War

A battalion of no less than three thousand Aurores were sent to scout Tintagel's surroundings. Having waited in vain for news since eleven thirty, Prime Minister Weasley went against his better judgment and launched the attack. One million wizards followed him as he climbed on a red dragon to lead the way, lit by the green flames coming from the dragon's mouth.

The human army had their first experience with magic: they were asked to move down a road leading into emptiness. Fearful, the soldiers obeyed, starting with the ones on foot followed by tanks and artillery. The black space in the middle of the road was the biggest Portkey ever created. It took fifty minutes to move three hundred thousand soldiers from Hogwarts to the south cliff of Tintagel.

Harry and his friends stayed close to one another. They had been ordered to fly within the dense flock of wizards. The brooms were in such a tight formation that from a distance, the wizards looked like an immense cloud. Only the red glowing witches added a spec of colour. The few humans out that night were terrified to see red spots move high above their heads. Villages and cities between Hogwarts and Tintagel locked themselves up, turned off every light in and outside the houses, as they had done sixty years ago during the battle of England.

Harry's group landed next to Prime Minister Weasley. Tintagel was completely hidden; had it not been for the Aurores who created a forest of massive torches spreading two miles over the cliffs and sea, the flying army would have passed over it. Harry stood next to McGonagall who had just arrived. Along with the headmistress, they found Tintagel abandoned.

Reports from Aurores came soon after. They did not find anyone, no Death Eaters or Dementors. The only sound came from the waves crushing on the rocks.

"You are certain Voldemort was here?" Prime Minister Weasley said gravely to Hermione.

"Yes…" mumbled Hermione, besieged by the fact the raid had been solely based on what she had seen.

"No need to panic Hermione," Harry said. "You were right."

All eyes turned to Harry who wore a grin worthy of a picture.

"My scar… it is starting to hurt."

Prime Minister Weasley jumped on his dragon and flew fifty feet off the ground. He raised his left arm, warning his army to get ready. McGonagall put one hand over Harry's scar so she would be occlumently linked with it. The sensation was appalling but she resisted; with deep compassion, she looked at Harry, realizing how terrible that scar must have been for him.

"Clear your thoughts Harry," McGonagall said. "Run your multiplication tables. Voldemort is trying to read your mind. You just focus on numbers, I will do the rest."

McGonagall's face crippled from the burn the scar inflicted on her hand. She sensed Harry's mind disintegrates, so evil and brutal Voldemort's influence was. The old witch had to physically turn her neck with her free hand in order to look Prime Minister Weasley right in the eyes and scream; "THEY ARE COMING FROM THE GROUND."

Prime Minister Weasley ordered his army to levitate or jump on their brooms. Within seconds lava holes opened and the fury that had brewed in the earth's core was unleashed. The first creatures to come out were Voldemort's elves, carrying hands where each finger burned like candles. No matter what the Aurores tried, the finger-candles could not be extinguished.

Next came the Death Eaters. Voldemort bestowed Ignites genetics upon them. Had it not been for their traditional hooded robes, it would have been impossible to distinguish between an Ignite and a Death Eater. This alone could have lost the war for the allies since spells killing Death Eaters were different from those against Ignites. The split second decision was enough for the allies to take the upper- hand. The Death Eaters, realizing the mistake of wearing robes, dropped their hoods and in so doing, succeeded in regaining the advantage.

Dementors appeared. Patronus were launched but to no effect. Voldemort protected his army of Dementors with emeralds hippogriffs who could destroy a Patronus with one lash from their front claws.

Then the unthinkable happened: bombs were dropped over the human army. Occlument shouts came to their minds from a group of Aurores overlooking the sea; "WAR VESSELS."

A fleet of destroyers populated the sea, aiming their canons at the human army. Voldemort had found every sunken ship from previous wars and magically brought them back to the surface. The ships were wrecks, crammed with holes, but they floated nonetheless. Voldemort filled them with thousands of dead sailors who had not been able to move on, their souls caught in the shipwrecks. The human army was fighting a loosing battle; nothing could be done to this armada of ghost ships.

The battle had begun.

"Still no signs of Voldemort?" Harry asked during a five-second break in the Dementors attacks.

"No," replied Neville who asked himself the same question.

Harry's team was doing amazingly well, Hermione passing on prophetic information at the speed of light. Not one Dementor, Death Eater or Ignite left their group unharmed if not dead. They had gotten so good at retaliating that they were losing interest, using the correct jinx was routine.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, annoyed at his nonchalant attitude. "We are far from being done!"

She was right; after all, they were nearly wiped out during the first minutes of the attack. Their army was being slaughtered and Prime Minister Weasley was still keeping his secret weapon at bay. The apparition of flying banshees, whom everyone thought instinct, forced Prime Minister Weasley's hand: he sent for the Trelawney/Phosphoros team.

Sybil Trelawney appeared in the sky, maintaining a comfortable altitude of sixty feet above the allies while Phosphoros floated just a few feet below. Both women became incandescent, rays of light emanated from their arms and heads, red beams from Trelawney aimed at every first-born witch, greenish phosphoric beam from Phosphoros, spreading to the ground like roots until it latched onto a wizard or a human.

From this moment on, Voldemort's army started to lose ground. Gauthierseen came out of hiding and went directly for the two women. He was about to use the Avadu Kedavra when he was struck directly in the chest with the same spell. The fat green man had no idea what had happened since the spell came from nowhere. One thing was sure, as he fell to the ground; these were the last seconds of his existence.

Well hidden under an invisibility cloak graciously offered by Harry, Sined Rousseau brought destruction on the grandest of scale. He enlarged the invisibility cloak so much that four Aurores joined his fighting post, ten feet above Trelawney.

Dementors and Death Eaters gradually depleted in numbers. Harry's team was the most successful. They took advantage of an attack-free moment to be in awe of the magnificence Phosphoros and Trelawney deployed. Phosphoros' long hair swirled, bathed by light pouring from Trelawney; Harry wished she had been as so since the first time she floated into the Great Hall.

Then, everything changed. Ginny Weasley apparated right in front of Harry. Her gaze was gone, her face was neutral but her wand was up and pointed at his heart. Ginny's apparition was such a distraction for Hermione, she did not foresee the event, that a flock of Ignites went immediately for her team. Harry, frozen, incapable of hurting Ginny was about to meet his doom when Ginny's back arched and she fell to the ground, spinning on herself.

Harry turned to Luna, responsible for this treachery, and shouted at her.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"The Imperious Curse," answered Luna. "The Imperious Curse is the only spell that can affect someone who is possessed."

"HEY, IGNITES YOU TWO!" shouted Hermione.

Harry stepped right over Ginny; each ankle gripped on her waist to keep her down. He wanted to freeze Ginny for she kept trying to unbalance him but he was afraid of the consequences the spell would add to her already stricken mind.

The grounds started to shake, oxygen became rare, and the humidity of the sea was replaced by the driest of atmosphere. A gigantic hole formed at the centre of Tintagel Castle. The earth fused and melted, threatening to destroy everything with a volcanic eruption. The lava stood still. Soon after, Voldemort emerged and ascended high in the sky for everyone to see.

All the banshees gathered above Voldemort, forming concentric circles. They spun in the same direction faster and faster, creating a wind tunnel so powerful it pushed the heat from the lava outward, burning alive the few Muggles within a hundred feet but not the wizards.

Voldemort did not expect his burning tornado to do so little. Wizards had anticipated his inferno and protected themselves with water resistant shields. Voldemort increased the intensity of the lava but to no avail. Worse, wizards close by immediately covered the few Muggles still alive with water shields. Something was wrong but Voldemort did not know what.

The magical sea creatures had finally arrived. It took them longer since rivers around Hogwarts led to the ocean on the opposite side of Tintagel. Viktor Krum saved them time by flying at high speed ahead of them, creating a liquid vacuum that sucked the magical sea creatures into speeds they had never achieved before.

Viktor led the attack on Voldemort's ghost armada. He ordered Marine Centaurs and Translucid mermaids to do as Voldemort's banshees. The resulting oceanic eddy was so immense rocks ten miles away were pulled from the shores. Voldemort's ghost armada sank right back to the bottom of the sea where it broke in million of pieces from the pressure the eddy exerted.

Meanwhile, the transport of the wounded was in full scale. Aurores created six hundred Portkeys. The ambulatory services had been organized by Dr Granger, for both wizards and humans. Soon, Voldemort's army found themselves fighting wizards they had neutralized hardly half an hour ago.

The Ignites panicked. They assumed they would take out the human army in no time but the soldiers used Mrs. Granger laser magical guns. Radiation was deadly to an Ignite; one particle on their burning flesh and their molecules cascaded in seconds. Voldemort screamed at them to keep fighting but already, the Dark Lord experienced the worst nightmare of a leader: desertions.

The final blow came from none other than a Muggle General. He had aimed all the canons of his tanks at Tintagel and ordered a massive bombardment. The lava started to break apart from the holes the bombs left as air was piercing through. Voldemort found himself floating above a black hole of fumes but not much else.

The Dark Lord changed tactics and did what he what he did best: destroy moral. He turned towards Prime Minister Weasley and threw a massive fireball made of radioactive elements. Bill Weasley's dragon burned and fell to the ground. Voldemort used a spell to make sure Prime Minister Weasley would stay under the dragon.

Aurores rushed over where the dragon landed and once they moved the animal, they found Bill Weasley death, pushed into five feet of solid earth.

"NO!" Ron shouted.

Hermione grabbed his arm, forcing him to stay close. Her prophetic instincts would not let her lose Ron as well as Mr. Weasley.

Voldemort turned his attention on a particularly strange duo of witches floating a mile away from him. He could not figure out what they were so he tapped into Harry's mind and probed it.

It took the Dark Lord a few seconds to comprehend where he had gone wrong. His disgust was complete when he realized he was being scammed by the woman he hated the most: Sybil Trelawney.

Voldemort kept looking for more information: Harry was on the ground so painful his scar was since McGonagall had left to go help others. Harry gave away the cloaked position of Sined and Voldemort's fireballs went directly for Rousseau and his Aurores. The American wizard was thrown miles away and disappeared into the sea.

"I too can play the game of time," Voldemort said to Trelawney occlumently.

The sear turned to Voldemort and saw he was holding an eyeglass. Time stopped for Voldemort and slowed down for Trelawney and Phosphoros. The Dark Lord used a spell unbeknownst to anyone: the air around the two women started to crumble on itself. Pressure became so intense their bodies shrank. Before anyone had time to do anything, being outside Voldemort's time, Trelawney and Phosphoros burned like supernova.

The allies had lost their secret weapon and their general. Chaos ensued; jinxes were thrown in every direction, often killing the wrong person. Death Eaters and Dementors started the carnage, helped by the elves carrying the finger-candles showing where and who to hit.

The war was lost. In the midst of the destruction, Harry and his team were still fighting, surviving. The Dark Lord looked at them and decided it was time to stop his troops in case some stupid Death Eaters forgot the order about not killing Harry Potter.

"STOP!" roared Voldemort.

The Dark Lord descended to the ground, walked amongst the litter of arms, and charred bodies. Nagini was as its side; it had grown a foot and kept doing so, eating every rodent and bugs that started to populate the battlefield.

Voldemort stopped in front Harry Potter and his team. Disgusted by Draco, he used his hand and blew him off so violently it was impossible to know where he landed. The Dark Lord had no care for Hermione, Ron, Luna or Neville, he paralysed them, wanting to sacrifice them at a celebration banquet he would have later on. His eyes were glued on Harry.

Minerva McGonagall apparated between Voldemort and Harry. She threw a jinx at Voldemort's heart but it was diffused as if it had been specs of dust.

"Dumbledore couldn't kill me, what makes you think you can."

"Don't do this Tom," McGonagall implored. "No matter how powerful you are, you cannot rule with destruction. You will rule over nothing. In the end, it will destroy you Tom."

Voldemort resented hearing his birth name on the witch's lips; he nailed her to the ground with invisible hands strangling her throat. McGonagall was powerful; his hands would take time before finishing her off so fiercely she fought.

"You're an adult now Harry Potter and I can kill you."

"Not before I do," shouted Harry.

The young wizard used the same spell he tried two years ago in the graveyard. He hoped to recapture the moment but Voldemort had learned since; the spell bounced off.

"And now, Harry Potter, die!"

Voldemort's stopped abruptly, something was wrong. He turned towards his familiar who was ferociously looking at a particularly ugly toad. Voldemort screamed at Nagini but it was too late, the snake's hunger was faster than the master's voice.

Nagini fell ill, started to twist and crippled on itself. Voldemort took it in his arms. The Dark Lord squeezed the snake, hoping to expel the toad but to no avail.

"You stupid animal," shouted Voldemort. "It was a poisonous toad. You stupid, stupid beast."

"Master, do something," Nagini said, feeling its life leaving.

Harry knew Voldemort was capable everything except the most important, save a life. The Dark Lord could only destroy, he never prepared or learned spells that would save or help someone: he was paying a high price for his arrogance. He watched Nagini stiffen until all life was gone.

In disbelief, the Dark Lord dropped the dead animal to the ground. The second it touched the ground, Nagini exploded from the energy burst of the Horcruxe's destruction. Nothing was left of the snake but in its place was the dead body of Tonks.

Voldemort looked at Harry with such fury, it almost infringed on despair.

"You can kill me now," Harry said defiantly. "My work is done; we have destroyed your last Horcruxe."

Voldemort stood over Harry Potter and did what had never done before: use physical force. Harry, pinned to the ground, was dying under the strangling hands of the man who killed everyone he loved.

Chapter 27

Petunia Evans

Jeanne Muriault conglomerated with other heads of states in Hogwarts' Great Hall. In front of her were three cell phones, all turned on, passing information as loud as they could. Sitting next to the President of France, the Prime Mminister of Great Britain was also surrounded by phones. They were keeping a close watch on Tintagel.

General James was reporting to the Prime Minister every five minutes. He had been chosen to lead the human army, even though none of his men, or he for that matter, had any idea what to expect.

Bad news started to pour. The death of Bill Weasley was particularly hard to take for the Prime Minister who had come to consider him as an ally, possibly a friend. As more bad news flowed, he became less eager to share information with his French colleague.

"What's going on?" Muriault said.

"We've lost," whispered the Prime Minister, his voice choked by dread.

General James sent soldiers to walk amongst the wizards and to report back to him. He had been adamant that the most important wizard to find was Harry Potter. General James had his spies repeat the latest information three times before passing it on to the Prime Minister. Their cell phones were hardly working anymore and he could not wait for confirmation of the young man's death.

"Is Harry Potter dead?" asked Muriault, fully aware of the consequences.

"Voldemort is strangling him as we speak..."

The President of France took a deep breath and opened her briefcase to retrieve a phone she had not used yet. She stayed close to the Prime Minister so he would hear what she was about to say.

"Launch the Mirages."

Muriault closed her eyes and turned off her phone.

"What are you doing?" shouted the Prime Minister. "You are not going to drop atomic bombs on… "

"We don't have a choice," cut in Muriault. "We cannot take the risk of losing."

"Wait, please. Don't you know you're about to destroy millions of lives?"

"They are our last weapons. I am doing what your Prime Minister did to the French fleet during World War II."

The argument was impossible to counter. Muriault's historical logic was a done deal. If Winston Churchville felt necessary to destroy the French fleet during the second war, he, the current Prime Minister, had no choice but to allow the French president to act accordingly.

"Couldn't you have waited until we are sure?" said the Prime Minister.

"Every country in the world is watching this battle. If I did not do it, the United States would or the German Chancellor. In fact, they probably are sending their jets as we speak."

They jumped to their feet when a ghost came down from the ceiling. They had heard of these Hogwarts' special students supervisors but it was the first time they saw one.

"You are the stupidest humans in the world," lashed out Nearly Headless Nick.

"This is none of your business," said the Prime Minster.

"I daresay it is! Headmistress McGonagall said that Voldemort found a way to transform the power of nuclear plants, whatever they are, into magical atoms. Can't you see? Dropping nuclear bombs on Voldemort is like feeding fresh kills to the wolf!"

The President and the Prime Minister looked at one another. Neither could speak nor act. The President of France grabbed her cell phone and nervously dialled the number, hoping she could stop her Mirages, but it was too late. Voldemort's velvet shield surrounding the earth rendered useless all satellites. The die was cast.

Asian countries prepared for the worst. It was clear Asian leaders made a mistake in asking so many people to get out of their houses simultaneously and head for bomb shelters. Thankfully, pandemonium did not ensue, local populations having face adversity many times before. Anyone who could not hide simply stood in the streets, close to familiar faces, all listening to radios they had been carrying with them. The Asian leaders felt it best to filter the information and fed the Medias bogus details about Tintagel. Only generals and highest officials trembled when they heard about Harry Potter's death.

In North America authorities opted for the opposite approach. They bargained that pounding the populations with bad news should stop the local civil wars: their bargain paid off. Every North American human knew about the decisive battle on the shores of England. The plague of destruction and death Voldemort's darkness left seemed a distant problem. A.M. radio bands had been seized by the governments to broadcast a minute-to-minute account of the fighting. North Americans held their breaths as the news of Harry Potter hit the waves.

South American countries were somehow protected by geographical elements: informing such disperse and hard to reach population had not been possible. As a result, peasants were practicing old magic, lighting up bonfires, praying to ancient gods and dancing to the skies.

The African continent was the calmest place on the planet. Its populations, still close to its roots, considered the darkening of the heavens and the earth's chaotic activities to be part of the natural flow of things. They too resorted to old magic; shamanism and village sorcerers became beacons of hope. They had been kept in the loop about the wizards-human civil war, but to them, it was nothing new, they had been practicing magic for thousands of years while fending off the ever-present invaders.

Vernon and Dudley Dursley were in the living room, listening to the radio. Vernon Dursley was but a shadow of himself, so afraid of his son and wife he obeyed every order shouted at him. Dudley, who could easily send his father to hell, was slave to the new power of the house: his mother.

Like every other European family, the Dursleys heard about the triumphs then the defeats taking place at Tintagel. The journalists kept pestering Dudley with news of Harry Potter, who, in his mind, was responsible for all the woes of the world. He wanted to shout his anger, but could not: he had been forbidden to open his mouth when the radio was on.

Petunia Dursley sat alone in the kitchen, close enough to the radio to listen but far enough from Dudley and Vernon to interfere. Her husband criticized her lack of judgment, abandoning them at such a bad time. Petunia did not explain herself. She gave strict orders not to be disturbed and under no circumstances were they to check on her.

Petunia wanted to play scrabble. She lit tree candles, put the game on the table and set a series of letters on two trays: she played against herself.

She was half through her third game when the news hit her in the chest. This was the reason she wanted to be alone: she knew her reaction would be so violent Dudley and Vernon would mistake it for a hearth attack.

She held on to the table, trying to catch her breath. There was no escaping the loud radio, belting out the news: Voldemort was strangling Harry.

Tintagel was immobile, almost frozen in time. Death Eaters, Dementors, all of Voldemort's slaves wanted to watch their Master destroy Humanity's last hope. Voldemort did not disappoint them.

Yet, killing Harry was an arduous affair having to use only physical strength since his magic was busy strangling McGonagall who had survived so far. Minerva McGonagall took her hands away from the throat and used them to drag herself close to Harry. Her arms were too weak so she pushed on her legs.

When close enough, she turned to her side and whispered in Harry's ear. Voldemort got very curious and released his grip on Harry, just enough for his victim to hear what the old witch had to say.

"REMEMBER… REMEMBER…"

Harry had enough force in him to turn his eyes towards Professor McGonagall. She was the shadow; she was the one telling him to remember. Voldemort's curiosity was at its peak and he probed Harry's mind but could not see what Harry was supposed to remember.

Harry Potter closed his eyes: he was all instinct. He was told to love by Dumbledore, to let lose and to love. He was told to remember by McGonagall, relinquish all control and remember.

He was a baby, in his crib: his mother and father looking at him. He could hear the strange melody but this time, neither his father nor his mother were singing. He was still a baby; he was rocked in chair and tucked in the arms of a woman singing to him.

It was Petunia. His aunt Petunia was singing to him.

Bursts of memories resurfaced: Petunia taking his temperature and sitting next to his bed all night long, Petunia running to his room when his uncle was out of the house and rocking him in her arms, Petunia whispering in his ears; "I will hide you. I will hide your from yourself if I have to."

This music, this strange melody Petunia sang soothed Harry. His soul was peaceful and his hearth so calm he had no desire to wake up.

Voldemort nearly vomited: this was the big secret Harry needed to remember! He squeezed Harry's neck. He then stood up, wanting to offer the best possible spectacle, and extended his right hand towards Lily and James Potter's son.

Harry woke up to reality. His was dying: all he could do was push the last bit of oxygen left in his lungs and scream: "AUNT PETUNIAAA!"

She heard it; she felt it: the pain hit her stomach, her mind but mostly her soul. Petunia Dursley got up and grabbed the marble roller always close by on the counter.

She stepped in her garden and stood in the middle of the three bushes of flowers. She turned to the petunias and yelled "Petunia Evans." The petunias burned; she turned to the lilies and shouted "Lily Evans," they too went up in flames. Finally, she turned to the gardenias and said softly; "this is for you mother!"

Petunia yelled; "Gardenia Evans" and the gardenias burned. The light from the three bushes joined in the middle and propelled Petunia into the skies. Vernon and Dudley, who heard the back door open, disobeyed and ran to the kitchen. Petunia was gone but in the back yard, three bushes of flowers were burning without consuming themselves.

Petunia landed on the outskirts of Tintagel and walked towards Voldemort. Cadavers flew off her path, Dementors near by exploded and Death Eaters turned to ashes if they dared attack her.

Voldemort allowed her to come close. He had yet to understand what that woman was doing. Petunia stopped two feet in front of Voldemort and threatened him with her marble roller.

The scene was so ridiculous the Dark Lord laughed: the traditional English maid, running out of the house with her roller, threatening a poor bloke! Voldemort spread his arms as wide as he could and, still laughing, screamed.

"COME ONE WOMAN, TAKE YOUR BEST SHOT!"

Petunia did. She pushed the end of her roller into Voldemort's stomach then up to the hearth. The roller went in as if the Dark Lord's chest was uncooked dough.

Voldemort tried to remove the roller but Petunia pushed it in even further. Voldemort changed appearances, becoming a vampire, then a werewolf, followed by so many other creatures onlookers did not identify half of them. Petunia, unimpressed, focussed on one goal, pushing the roller.

Voldemort was gone and in his place, a very old Tom Riddle lay on the ground, dying. Petunia was not fooled; she did not release the pressure from the roller. Life was all but gone as blood finally flooded from the Riddle's hearth.

"HARRY!" shouted McGonagall. "Harry is dead."

The old witch, free to breath, had immediately turned to Harry who had not been as lucky as she had. Petunia looked at her nephew and realized that he truly was dead. Petunia released the pressure on the roller.

"Bring Harry over here" ordered Petunia to McGonagall.

The old witch obeyed. Petunia took one of Voldemort's hands and opened it, showing a scar similar to Harry's. Tom Riddle, still alive, had no strength to resist; his hand was put on Harry's forehead.

"Well uncle! Looks like you're good for one thing after all," Petunia said.

"What are you doing?" Riddle whispered.

"Didn't you ever ask yourself why you could not kill Harry? What was that ancient magic Lily used?"

Riddle was starting to understand.

"James and Lily were expert with Horcruxes; they discovered more powerful magic than you could ever have. Horcruxes can also be created out of love if one sacrifices his life. Lily did. She could have fought you but instead, she let you kill her so she could save her son. She did better than to split a soul; she made a copy of it. Yes uncle, Horcruxes can be whole. I believe all you succeeded was in splitting yours!"

Tom Riddle felt energy leave his body, his extremities got cold.

"Lily copied Harry's soul into yours. YOU WERE HARRY'S HORCRUXE!" Petunia screamed at Riddle, alias Voldemort.

The energy left through Riddle's hand and entered Harry. The young man took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"That's impossible," murmured Riddle. "I was alone in the house…"

"No, your own sister was there. My mother! Gardenia! Merope had a daughter before you. Merope allowed your father to leave with her even though she was pregnant with you. My mother always knew who her parents were but, like so many other bastard children of aristocratic fathers, she was raised as a maid in her father household."

"I would have sensed it."

"Of course not. My mother never used her powers, to you she would have been another Muggle, and never lowered yourself to be interested with Muggles. My mother gave up her powers once she discovered your existence, how vile you were. But powers like hers cannot disappear, they had to be passed on: to me. I had the powers, not Lily. It was my mother who put Harry on the sofa, knowing full well what Lily had done."

On these last words Tom Riddle died. His eyes stayed opened, his human body went cold. A battle followed: the remaining evil soldiers of the Dark Lord's army were neutralized within minutes.

Harry stood up and looked at his aunt. His friends came out of their lethargic states. Harry was lost, incapable of feeling or thinking; he had been wrong all along as much as he had been right. McGonagall left his side to join Petunia.

"Petunia Evans, you have endured the greatest of pain."

Harry needed to understand.

"What pain?" screamed Harry. "If you were so powerful, why didn't you save my mother?"

"Because I told her not to," McGonagall replied.

Minerva took Petunia's hand, trying to comfort her.

"I cannot tell you the effect Petunia had on me when I first met her," McGonagall said. "I never saw such magical powers. Lily was an amazing witch but she learned her talents, much like Hermione. Petunia was something else. Sybil Trelawney and I were in charge of testing the new students. We were overwhelmed with Petunia and had to stop when Sybil had a vision: if Petunia used her magic, she would destroy the world, the ancient blood of Gaunt and all its evil wanted to come to the surface. No one here can imagine how terrible Petunia felt. She was just a twelve-year-old girl, the most powerful wizard in the world, and would have to hide it! Worse, ignore it and pretend it never existed. How terrible if must have been to see Lily come home with the praises while you had to step aside. Sybill and I swore we would never tell a sole, which we did."

Harry was silent and heartbroken. He stared at his aunt who looked at him with all the contempt she had been living with.

"I hated James," Petunia said. "He played with Horcruxes and didn't care about the consequences; Lily and James were obsessed with killing Riddle. How I loathed the day you appeared at my front door. You were like a dagger in my home. A dagger I could do anything against because if I used my powers, Riddle would find me out."

"Why didn't my mother know about your mother and Voldemort?"

"Because my mother made me promise not to tell. She knew her brother was reading minds and she did not want anyone in the Magical world to have any knowledge of her gifts. She sacrificed me in a way by telling me everything and giving me her powers but more importantly, Merope's wand."

Petunia caressed her roller; the crowd understood that Petunia hid the wand in it. Harry did not want to hear anymore, he had enough.

Calm fell on Tintagel. Aurores started to tear away the velvet veil and rays on sun were coming through.

Petunia lowered her head and cried. Harry walked over, took her hand but Petunia resisted. He persevered and she slowly opened up, allowing Harry to hug her.

Hermione and Ron held one another. Mrs. Weasley came down from the hills and calmed Ginny with a slumbering spell. Neville grabbed Luna's hand who, for the first time of her life, showed an emotion: happiness.

"PETUNIA AND HARRY!" shouted McGonagall.

"PETUNIA AND HARRY!" screamed the victorious army.

The cry of joy flew all over the world. Every human got out of his or her house to celebrate to see darkness recede but most of all shout to the skies: "PETUNIA AND HARRY!"

At Tintagel, the ground shook: warplanes had launched their bombs. Petunia simply looked up, pointed the wand at the sky and every bomb vanished. Harry understood what McGonagall meant when saying that his aunt could do things no one else could.

Petunia and Harry let go of their embrace. Turning to the hysterical crowd, they did what heroes do: they raised their hands and waved.

Epilogue

"That's not a word!"

Petunia Dursley put the dictionary down: Harry would have to come up with something English. Scrabble was not to be tempered with.

"How's Ginny?" Petunia said, playing with her letters.

"She will be fine. She's already writing me letters."

Harry put a five-letter word on the board. He did not score high points but at least it was an English word. She added his points and followed his five-letter word with a seven-letter one.

Harry sighed; he had been trying to beat her at scrabble for weeks. This game would end like all the others; he would have the pitiful score.

"Dudley and Uncle Vernon sure are loving the spotlight."

"They deserve it," Petunia replied, eyes fixed on the board.

Harry was referring to the hundredth interview his uncle and cousin were given to journalists on the front lawn. Four Privet drive was more famous than ten Downing Street. It was declared royal ground by the queen and all the neighbours had to leave their house, which they would have anyway since the area was under constant attack by journalists and fans.

"So, what will you do now?" asked Petunia.

"Become an Aurore, though there is no need for them anymore."

Harry put a seven-letter word on the table.

"HARRY POTTER!" shouted Petunia.

She looked at the letters and burned them from a wink of her left eye: he had used magic to come up with a record high word. Harry put his hand in the bag of letters and picked seven new ones, knowing that he would find another stupid word.

"Don't be so sure about not needing Aurores anymore," Petunia said looking at Harry's three letter word.

In a suburb of Sydney, Australia, a woman was sitting at the welfare office with her newborn baby girl. The welfare officer had been trying to help the woman for weeks but she always refused.

"What is it this time," asked the welfare officer annoyed.

"I want to register my baby."

"Nobody registers babies! I swear, sometimes I think you came from under a rock."

"The community nurse told me I need papers for my baby's name."

The welfare officer was so exasperated she did not bother to argue. She took out a form for newborns and asked the question since the woman in front of her was illiterate.

"Father's name?"

"Tom Riddle."

"Mother's name?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Baby's name?"

"Merope…. just like her grand-mother."