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The office door banged open and Alyx jumped slightly, then turned toward it. She smiled brightly as Bob entered, wrestling with their guest, who was covered from head to knees in a burlap sack.
"I got him," Bob told her, panting slightly. "He's stronger than I thought he'd be, too!"
"Nice job, dear. Get him set up, would you?"
Nodding, he dragged their guest into position and removed the sack. There, in the middle of the office, stood Albus Dumbledore. A naked, Albus Dumbledore.
Alyx blanched and closed her eyes. "Did you have to strip him?" she growled.
"Of course! How else were you going to do this?" he asked, puzzled.
"I don't know! I thought maybe we could turn him around and just drop his pants, or something," she said vaguely, waving her hands about.
Bob shrugged. "Same difference."
"Not really. I'm never going to get that image out of my mind," she grumbled, as she walked toward them.
"Who are you people and why have you kidnapped me?" Dumbledore bellowed. "And I demand you give me back my clothing!"
"Take care of that, Bob, while I get the rest of this ready."
Nodding, he reached for the ball gag.
"No!" Alyx exclaimed and Bob froze. "Use the duct tape! If I won't share my toys with you, I'm not about to share them with him!"
He frowned, then cuffed Dumbledore upside the head as the man began to rant once more. "I thought this was the one you used on our readers when we tortured them in the disclaimers?"
"No, that's the pink one," she told him as she pulled something from the closet. "The red one is the one you use on me. Really, you need to pay more attention to details, Bob!"
Sighing and rolling his eyes, he replied as any smart man would. "Yes, dear." Grabbing the duct tape, he then took care of the Headmaster and his annoying rant.
Looking at his wife, he grinned. "Ready?"
"Yep. Bend him over, please," she said with a smile.
Bob reached out and bent Dumbledore over, then taped the man's hands to his ankles. "Go for it!"
Reaching up, Alyx grabbed the chain hanging from the ceiling and attached a glowing, neon sign to it. It hung directly over Dumbledore's ass and read as follows:
Crack begins here!
They stood back to admire their handiwork.
"The arrow under the words was a nice touch," Bob said, smiling.
"I thought so," Alyx agreed. Walking over to Dumbledore, she then removed the tape from his mouth, pulling very slowing and enjoying his pain. Once it was removed, she put a finger under his chin and raised his head so he could meet her eyes.
"Now, Albus, we'll release you just as soon as you say the words," she told him sweetly.
"Never! This story is an abomination and I'll play no part in starting it!" Albus growled.
"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that!" she said gleefully and began rolling up her sleeves. "Bob, grab my bullwhip!"
"Wait! I'll say it!"
"It's too late for that," Bob told him with relish as he handed the toy to his wife. "Can't you see the gleam in her eyes?"
"Bob and Alyx don't own Harry Potter!" Dumbledore shouted. "Start the damn story!"
Alyx's shoulders slumped. "Damn it! Why do people always have to spoil my fun?"
"Don't worry, dear. There's always the reviewers to torture."
Her expression brightened as Bob lead her from the room. "True!"
"Wait! You said you'd release me!"
"Yes, we did. But we didn't say when," Bob reminded the man before closing the door quietly, leaving Dumbledore bent over for the readers to examine – perhaps in more detail than any of them could wish for.
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office...
Dumbledore rubbed his bald head and winced. His skin no longer stung, but he'd been unable to regrow his hair by any magical means he could devise. Severus had even tried a few potions, all to no avail. Even though he was fully clothed, he could not shake the feeling of being naked.
He'd been calling Dobby for the last two days, but the elf had not appeared with his report on Harry Potter and the goings on at Grimmauld. In frustration, he's sent Winky to Headquarters to find out what had happened.
She had reappeared moments later to state that the house was locked against house elves.
Sighing, he rose from his chair and walked to shelf which held a number of magical items. Finding the one he was looking for, he examined it once more. The results were the same. The monitoring charms he'd placed on Harry were no longer functioning.
He was unsure how the charms had been removed, but he suspected Alastor's involvement. The ex-auror had gone missing, and Dumbledore could only conclude that the man was at Grimmauld with Harry and Ron.
And Hermione, he reminded himself. When he realized the charms had been removed from Harry, he decided to question Hermione more closely about what had taken place at Headquarters, only to discover from her parents that she had left, returning to be with her friends.
While at the Grangers, he couldn't help but notice the wards placed around the house, wards that had not been there previously. They had the feel of the old auror's work, and Dumbledore suspected he'd placed them around the residence when he'd taking Miss Granger home. They were a good idea, and something he should have thought of himself. The Grangers would be targets, what with Hermione's blood status and her closeness to Harry. He made careful note of the wards left by Moody, just in case he needed them removed at a later date.
Turning away from the shelf, he walked to the window and looked down on the grounds of Hogwarts. He rubbed his head tiredly. He had lost control of Potter and the outcome of the war was now in question. The summer had turned into his worst nightmare. Harry hadn't forgiven him, and was openly defying him. To make matters worse, the boy now had allies Dumbledore had never expected. He knew that Harry's friends would always support him, but the defection of Moody and Lupin was disturbing. It left him questioning his own decisions, something which he could not afford to do.
"No, Moody and Lupin are wrong. They need to be made to see reason, as does Harry. I'm the only one who knows how the war must be fought, and they will be made to see that," he muttered to himself.
La Tortuga Island, Evening...
Ron dropped his quill, closed his book and shoved his homework away with a groan. "We've been here for seven days. We've had our brain's stuffed with charms and hexes, shields and wards. Moody's taken great delight in kicking our arses in his fighting class and some of us," he said, looking up and glaring at Hermione, "have splinched ourselves during apparation class. And now...now they give us bookwork? When does it end?"
Hermione scowled at him over the stack of books piled up around her. "You didn't have to bring that up."
"Come on, Hermione," Harry said as he closed his own book and sat back, "Even you have to admit that it was a surprise. You're usually good at everything."
"Except riding a broom," Ron reminded him.
"True," Harry admitted, examining Hermione carefully. "Maybe she just has problems with magical travel."
"That can't be it, mate," Ron said, shaking his head. "If that were the case, she wouldn't be able to travel by portkey or floo as well as she does. Unless she's been faking it." He turned to her then, his eyes narrowed.
"Oh, honestly! How does one fake portkey or floo travel?" she groused, slamming her book closed and leaning back angrily. "You're both being ridiculous! Besides, you're not so great at floo travel, Harry."
"She's got you there," Ron admitted, grinning at Harry.
"Yeah, but I'm not the 'brightest witch of the age', either," he reminded them.
"I hope not. Otherwise, you'd be the brightest and ugliest witch of the age," Ron said, laughing.
Hermione tilted her head slightly and looked at Harry. "Oh, I don't know about that. A bit of makeup, a bit of help on the hair, a nice, padded bra..."
She trailed off and began to laugh at the expressions of horror each boy wore.
"Do I look like a cross dresser to you?" Harry asked, insulted.
"Well, you do wear a dress at school," Hermione mused.
"It's a robe, Hermione! A robe, for Merlin's sake!" Ron exclaimed.
When she began to laugh, Harry grinned. "Yeah, but to a muggle, it would look rather like a strange dress," he admitted.
"No one said muggles weren't strange," Ron sniffed.
"Hey!" Harry and Hermione both yelped.
"What? You're not muggles," the red head reminded them.
"My parents are not strange, Ronald Weasley," Hermione growled.
"Maybe not, but the same can't be said for the Dursleys," Harry said. "Ron may have a point, partially, at least."
"Oh, and wizard's aren't strange? Explain Dung to me, then. Or Tonks," Hermione muttered.
Harry looked at Ron and shrugged. "She's got you there."
"Fine. So strangeness isn't just a muggle thing," he said, giving in. He stretched, then leaned back in a slump. "Now what? I've finished the assignments and done the reading for the coming week. When do we eat?"
Hermione glanced at her watch. "Not for another hour or so."
Ron groaned, then stood up and walked to the window of their dormitory.
The Venezuelans had gone to a lot of trouble to set up the training area. There were several buildings grouped together, most of which were sleeping quarters for the auror force. The tutors were given their own housing, as were the teens, and there was a separate building for meals, set up cafeteria style, where everyone involved with the operation gathered together to eat.
When the teens had first seen the accommodations, Hermione had raised a fuss. The Venezuelans obviously expected her to share a bedroom with Harry and Ron and she wouldn't hear of it. Her loud objections had finally brought in Moody, who'd told her to shut up and live with it. When she'd tried to argue, he's pointed out that Professor Belmont was sharing a room with three men and wasn't complaining, and she'd finally shut up. Of course, Moody hasn't told her that the woman had objected when she's first arrived, but had solved the problem by erecting several privacy charms around her area of the dorm.
Their hosts had been gracious enough to include two bathrooms in the dormitory, so Hermione solved one of her objections by changing there, rather than in the open. It had taken her three days, much to Moody's annoyance, to solve the rest by raising privacy charms of her own. When he pointed out how long it had taken, the girl had snapped at him, saying it had taken her some time to adjust to her surroundings.
While Moody enjoyed the fact that the girl had spirit, her excuse had been unacceptable to him and had resulted in much growling about constant vigilance and always being on ones toes, no matter the surroundings.
The subject had been dropped when Ron pointed out that they were on the island to learn, after all, and Hermione should look at it as another lesson. Moody had grunted and dropped the issue. He was mollified, somewhat, when he realized later that all three teens had learned to become more aware of not just their surroundings, but also the situations each instructor placed them in.
"So, we have an hour to kill. What should we do?" Ron asked.
"I'd suggest reading ahead in our texts, but I'm afraid of sounding too much like Hermione," Harry told him seriously, though his eyes were dancing.
Hermione shook her head, refusing to rise to the bait. "I have an idea," she told them as she stood up and walked toward her area of the dorm. Opening the drawer on her beside table, she pulled out Harry's notebook and the notes she'd jotted down at Headquarters. "I think it's time to work on Operation Overthrow." She turned around and walked back to the table.
Ron and Harry exchanged a look.
"Operation Overthrow?" Ron asked.
Hermione shrugged. "I was thinking of calling it Out With Demented Old Headmasters, but O.W. D.O.H is a bit of a mouthful."
"So you settled for oo?" Harry asked. "Sounds like someone's reaction to finding dog crap on their shoes or something."
While Ron laughed, Hermione slammed the notebook down on the table. "It's not oo, Harry! It's O.O.!"
"Hmm, a sense of deja vu," Harry said, his head tilted slightly. He looked at Ron.
"Spew!" they both exclaimed, then broke up laughing.
Hermione growled. "Must you bring that up? And it wasn't spew, it was S.P.E.W!" She sat down and tried to ignore them.
"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said, still chuckling.
"Yeah, I am, too," Ron told her. "But you seriously need to lighten up. Look," he continued when she glared at him, "we've worked hard all week and you're about to bring up something that's going to make at least one of us cranky. Laugh while you can."
"Cranky?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Grumpy? Annoyed? Mad as hell?" Ron tried.
"Or all of the above," Hermione said as she sat down and pulled out a clean sheet of parchment.
"Wait, I thought we were picking on Hermione?" Harry asked.
"Humor is fluid. You never know who'll be targeted next," Ron told him, shrugging. "Just go with it."
"I'll remind you of that when it's your turn," Harry grumbled.
"All right, enough fooling around. Let's get down to business," Hermione told them as she pulled out her notes. "I was thinking we could write a letter to Ginny and explain what we're planning. You know she'll never tell anyone, even if she's against the idea."
"She won't be," Ron assured her.
"Probably not," Hermione agreed. "She'll be able to get everyone together at the Burrow and tell them what's going on. We can copy Harry's notebook and send it to her with the letter. That way she'll know why we're going to do this."
Harry sighed and looked toward the dorm window. He didn't like that part of Hermione's plan, though he understood the need for it. The idea of letting everyone read about his past made his skin crawl.
"Harry?" Ron asked, concerned. "Look, mate, if you're truly against this, tell us now. We can try to come up with another plan."
Harry shook his head. "No, you're both right. If people are going to help, they need to know why." He looked at them and shrugged. "I just hate the idea of everyone knowing about my life. I don't want their pity."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry. You've faced Voldemort six times and lived to tell the tale. Pity? I don't think that's what you'll have to deal with."
Ron's jaw dropped. "Oh, damn, I hadn't thought of that!"
"Language, Ron," Hermione said, almost automatically.
"I thought we broke you of saying that?" the red head grumbled.
"What are you two talking about?" Harry asked, confused.
Ron grinned. "Think of Colin Creevey, Harry. Once the truth is out, he won't be the only one looking at you that way."
"Oh, hell no!" Harry exclaimed, shoving away from the table and standing up. "Are you two trying to drive me nuts?"
"Not purposely, no," Hermione said, shuffling through Harry's notebook. "It's just a nice benefit."
Ron laughed, while Harry continued to rant, pace, and throw his hands in the air rather dramatically.
"Are you two even listening to me?" he finally bellowed.
Ron and Hermione looked at him. "Not really," they both replied, then looked at each other and laughed.
"Oh, sure, laugh. But I'll remind you that both of you were along on most of those adventures. I won't be the only one dealing with the Creevey-like behavior!" Harry remind them as he sat down and slumped in his chair.
Hermione blinked, then looked up at Ron's scowling face. "I hadn't thought of that."
"Me, either," Ron confessed glumly.
Harry smiled grimly. "Not laughing now, are you?"
"We'll just have to stick close to Harry," Hermione said. "They'll focus on him and forget about us."
Ron brightened. "Good point."
"You two are going to pay for this," Harry threatened.
"I'm sure we will, mate," Ron said cheerfully.
"I'm serious," Harry growled. "I don't know when or how, but you'll both..." He gasped suddenly and slapped a hand over his scar.
What has the boy so upset?
"Not again," Harry muttered. "Get out of my head, you freak!"
Potter?
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, jump up and rushing to his side.
"What's going on?" Ron asked as he stood up.
"Who else would it be, you scaly, worthless piece of shit!" Harry said, rubbing his scar as the pain began to lessen. "I'm busy at the moment, Tom. Now get out of my head!"
Manners, Potter!
Hermione stopped suddenly, her eyes wide. "I'll be right back," she said as she turned away and bolted from the dorm.
Ron knelt down and looked at Harry, concerned. "What can I do?" he asked quietly.
Harry felt a wave of vertigo sweep over him as images flashed though his mind. He held up a hand to Ron.
"You know, Tom, that house of yours sure is ugly. Ever think about a bit of home improvement? I mean, I know you're more snake than human these days, but honestly, even snakes have some standards. You live like a filthy muggle!"
A sense of shock swept through Harry.
You're lying! There's no way you can see my location, boy.
"Not personally, no. I'm only seeing what you're showing me, Tommy. I have to say, I'm not impressed. The Malfoy's live in luxury, yet the most powerful Dark Lord of the age lives in squalor. How...amusing. The servants live better than the master."
Voldemort's bellow of rage made Harry wince and his scar began to throb painfully.
The door to the dorm burst open and Jorge Strauss rushed in with Hermione, Remus and Moody on his heels.
Strauss knelt down next to Ron. "Calm, Mr. Potter. It does not work if you're not calm."
"I know," Harry muttered. "I've been able to keep him from seeing anything, but I can't get him out."
The Unspeakable smiled. "A good start," he said, radiating approval. "Now it's time to put into practice what you've learned this week. Visualize a wall. Place your thoughts, feelings and memories behind that wall, then push everything else out."
"I've tried," Harry told him. "The pain..."
"Is not behind the wall," Strauss finished. "Push it out, Harry."
Closing his eyes, Harry did as the instructor told him. The wall snapped into place in his mind easily enough, but the rest was more difficult.
What are you doing, Potter? The voice sounded angry.
Once he'd done as Strauss had taught him, Harry began to push everything not behind his mental wall out. He could hear the Dark Lord laughing.
That won't work, boy. You're only a child. You have no hope of besting me.
"Yeah? Then how come I'm not dead yet, you bastard!" Harry exclaimed.
Strauss shook his head. "Do not engage," he said quietly. "Simply concentrate on pushing him out."
"He's strong," Harry muttered.
"So are you, Potter," Moody told him simply. "The blocks on your power were removed, remember? Use it."
The pain from his scar increased as the Dark Lord laughed.
I go where I wish, boy. And right now I'm where I want to be; in your tiny, little mind!
Grinding the palm of his hand over his scar, Harry hissed in pain.
Remus knelt down on Harry's other side. "You can do this," he said quietly. He reached up and removed the boy's hand from his forehead. When Harry looked at him, he smiled gently. "You are a powerful young man and you can do this."
Closing his eyes, Harry strengthened the wall he'd built and began to push once more.
"Kick his ass, Harry!" Ron exclaimed.
Harry's eyes snapped open and they shone with a strange inner light. Anger, pain and outrage beat against the wall he'd formed and the Dark Lord shrieked.
This can't happen! What have you done, Potter?
"It looks like I've beat you once again, Tommy," Harry said.
But how? The voice was faint, but full of anger and confusion.
"With any luck, that question will keep you up at night," Harry said as he gave one final push, then slumped back tiredly as the Dark Lord was forced from his mind.
Harry looked at Strauss, then narrowed his still glowing eyes as he felt the older man slip into his mind. "Get out. I've already had one uninvited guest rattling around in there today. I don't want another."
The Unspeakable smiled. "Then remove me, Mr. Potter."
With a growl, Harry strengthened the wall in his mind once more and shoved.
Strauss went flying across the dorm and slammed up against the far wall with a cry of pain.
Harry stood up and swayed slightly, his eyes never leaving the form of the crumpled Unspeakable across the room. "You think to play games with me now? After what I just went through?" he asked angrily.
Ron stood up and backed away.
"Games?" Strauss grunted as he climbed painfully to his feet. "No, that was no game, Mr. Potter. Think of it as a test, if you will."
"A test?" Harry asked quietly. His hands, clenched at his sides, began to glow and power snapped and crackled around them. "I push Voldemort from my mind for the first time, using power I haven't fully mastered yet, and you think it wise to test me?"
The air around the teen became heavy as his power reached out hungrily.
"It was necessary," Strauss said calmly. "I have not faced Voldemort myself. I don't know what sort of power the creature has. I do, however, know my own limits. That you were able to push me out so easily, so forcefully, lets me gauge both your strength and your will to do what you must. Knowing this, I can tailor your training to suit."
"Rein it in, Potter," Moody growled.
Turning to face the ex-auror, Harry blinked, shocked and more than a little confused. The man's hair was standing on end! Glancing around, he noticed Strauss, Ron, Hermione and Remus looked much the same, though Hermione looked like some demented troll doll as her hair stood up in gravity defying proportions.
Seeing the bewilderment on his face, Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him. "As if I don't have enough problems with my hair," she grumbled.
Harry winced. "Er, sorry?"
Remus snickered.
The dormitory door opened and Professor Belmont walked in, then stopped short. Scanning the room, her eyes stopped on Hermione and she raised an eyebrow. "I know several beauty charms that will help with that, Miss Granger," she said kindly, pointing at the girl's hair.
"Thanks, but I think I'll pass. I've already been to the Potter School of Beauty and this was the result," she replied.
"Tsk! Ask for a refund, my dear," Belmont stated. "Obviously the technician did not know what he was doing!"
Remus gave up and laughed. Moody's lips twitched in humor. Ron and Hermione made the mistake of looking at each other. Seconds later, they, too, were laughing. Strauss and Belmont looked on with amused smiles.
Harry scowled at them all. "It's not funny," he muttered. "First Voldemort, then Strauss. Someone let me know when Dumbledore and Snape get here. Then my day will be perfect!" He stalked back to his chair and sat down to sulk.
Strauss tilted his head and looked at Harry. "I'm not sure I like being compared to Voldemort."
Harry waved that away. "You know what I mean."
Hermione sat down across from him, disgruntled. When Ron tried to touch her still standing hair, she pushed him away. "Don't touch it," she snapped. "It's so full of static electricity, it could power London for a week."
The instructors all gathered near the door while Ron and Harry snickered at Hermione.
"What was that, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, I've never seen you do that before," Ron said. "And I'm not talking about that power surge of yours, either. That I can kind of understand, what with the blocks gone and all."
Harry rubbed his forehead tiredly. "I guess we didn't get to that part at Headquarters, did we?"
Hermione frowned. "This has happened before?"
"Yeah, once. I had an interesting discussion with Voldemort about the merits of writing a Potion essay in Parseltongue."
While Harry explained what happened at Grimmauld, the adults spoke quietly. Several minutes later, Strauss, Belmont and Remus left. Moody turned back to the teens.
"Listen up," he barked. "Potter, you'll be taking an extra class each evening. It's time for you to learn the limits of your magic and how to control it."
"I figured that was coming," Harry said with a sigh.
"It's time for dinner, so get going," Moody told them.
The trio stood, but only Ron and Harry walked toward the door.
"Hermione?" Harry called as the girl headed for the bathroom.
"I need to fix my hair first. I'll be along in a bit," she told them.
"It's dinner, Granger, not a bloody beauty contest!" Moody said.
"Good thing, too," Hermione quipped as she opened the bathroom door. "You'd be a shoe in for last place, Professor. Now, I'll be along in a few minutes." The door closed firmly behind her.
Moody grunted in amusement as he turned and left the dorm.
Ron shook his head as he and Harry walked toward the door. "She's going to make you pay for that, mate."
"I know," Harry replied. "Who knew she was so sensitive about her hair?" he asked glumly.
"What? Are you kidding me?" Ron asked. "Where have you been for the last five years?"
The Burrow, a few days later...
Ginny rubbed her forehead tiredly as she watched Luna and Neville read the last page of Harry's notebook. Dobby had popped into her room three days ago to drop off a package containing the notebook and a general outline of what was being planned for the next school year. She'd been shocked by the plan at first. Once she'd read through the notebook, however, she was willing to help any way she could. While the information about Harry's life had been heartbreaking, her anger over what Harry had been forced to live through had kept any tears from falling.
It had taken her a little longer to get Neville over to her house, but she'd finally managed it. Luna wasn't a problem, of course. But when she'd asked her mother if Neville could come over, the woman had looked at her oddly. Upon seeing it, Ginny had done her best to assure her mother that Neville was just a friend, but it hadn't saved her from 'the talk'.
She shuddered at the memory.
In the end, Neville had been allowed to visit, and they were now out in the backyard. She'd thought to bring them both to her room, but was afraid it would give her mother the wrong idea. Besides, she wouldn't put it past her mother to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Wow," Neville said quietly, bringing Ginny back to the present. "I never thought Harry's life was perfect, but I never expected this."
"I'm surprised he let Hermione send this to you," Luna added. She twisted a blade of grass between her fingers as she stared off toward the Burrow. "He always seemed to be such a private person."
"He is, but I think Ron and Hermione might have talked him into sending us a copy of the notebook," Ginny told them.
Neville placed the notebook aside and shuffled through Hermione's notes on the plan. "I've never heard of this passive resistance she's talking about, but she explained it rather well. It seems almost too simple, really." He looked up and glanced between the two girls. "What do you think?"
Luna shrugged. "No one would be surprised if I did something like that. Everyone already thinks I'm odd."
"You are," Ginny told her bluntly. "But then, so are we. After all, we're talking about planning a mass revolt at Hogwarts."
Luna grinned. "True."
Neville's brow wrinkled in thought. "We'll have to find some way of getting the DA together and that's not going to be easy."
"Fred and George should be here soon," Ginny reminded them. "They might have some ideas. We won't be able to meet at the Burrow, that's for sure. My mother's already having problems with just Neville being here." She rolled her eyes.
"I wondered why she kept looking at him oddly when he first arrived," Luna said merrily.
Neville grimaced. "I got the same look from my Gran. I don't get a lot of invitations over the summer."
Ginny smiled. "You're welcome to come over any time, Neville. My mum can just learn to live with it."
"You can come to my house, too," Luna added. "After what happened at the Department of Mysteries, my father told me I could invite my friends over any time."
"You told him everything that happened?" Ginny asked.
Neville simply stared at the blond, surprised. He hadn't told his Gran everything about that night!
"Of course," Luna said, shrugging. "He was happy to hear that I had such brave and loyal friends."
"I think that should be the other way around," Neville told her. "We Gryffindors tend to back each other up, even if it means rushing in without thinking things through first."
"Yes, that night could have gone better," Luna said thoughtfully. "A bit of planning wouldn't have gone amiss." She looked at them both seriously. "Harry's a nice boy and he needed help. He was willing to help me learn Defense. It would have been rude of me to turn my back on him."
Ginny shook her head. "I think you have it all wrong, Luna. You're not odd at all."
Luna's eyes shone with hurt. "There's no need to be insulting, Ginevra!"
"I don't think she was trying to insult you," Neville tried to explained.
"He's right, I wasn't," Ginny interrupted quickly. "I thought it bothered you when people said you were odd."
Luna's head tilted slightly as she looked between the two Gryffindors. "Why would I deny being what I am?" she asked simply.
Ginny and Neville looked at each other, neither knowing how to reply.
"Oi! Ginny!"
Turning slightly, Ginny watched Fred and George walk toward them.
"What's going on, baby sister?" George asked as he and his twin joined them.
"Yeah, your note made it sound important, and here we find you lazing around with Neville and Luna," Fred teased.
"As much as we wouldn't mind wasting an afternoon, we did have to close the shop to come here," George added.
Ginny sighed. "I'm sorry about that, but this is important. Sit down, you two."
The twins looked at each other for a moment, then shrugged and sat down next to each other. "What's up?" George asked quietly.
"Here, read this first," Neville said as he passed a piece of parchment over to him. "If you both agree, sign it. If you don't, then we won't keep you away from your shop any longer."
Fred looked at him. "Why so serious?"
"Just read it, Fred," Ginny growled.
"All right, all right. It was just a question," he muttered as he leaned over to read the parchment his brother held.
By signing this document, I swear to never reveal the information I am about to receive to anyone other than Harry Potter or the the people undersigned below. I understand that this document is a magical contract and, should I break it, I will spend the rest of my life as a squib, no longer able to do magic.
Hermione Granger
Ronald Weasley
Ginny Weasley
Neville Longbottom
Luna Lovegood
George looked up, his eyes troubled. "What's going on, Ginny? Has something happened to Harry?"
"Your questions will be answered only after you sign the pledge," Luna told him.
"This is a bit more serious than the DA pledge," Fred said, looking at George.
The brothers stared at each other for a moment, then George held out his hand. "Give me a quill," he said quietly.
Once the twins had signed, Ginny took the pledge from them and Neville gave them Harry's notebook.
"Read that first, then we'll tell you the rest," the younger boy explained.
Luna, Ginny and Neville remained silent as the twins read, not wanting to distract them.
When George closed the notebook some time later and looked up, Ginny sucked in her breath and glanced at Fred. His expression mirrored his twin's. Her brothers were furious. Without a word, she held out Hermione's plan for Operation Overthrow.
When they'd finished reading through the plan, the twins were grinning viciously.
"Would serve the old wanker right," Fred growled.
"And Umbridge thought she had problems?" George asked. "When we're finished with Dumbledore, he won't know what hit him."
"Does that mean you'll help?" Neville asked.
"Of course," George said. "But there are a few problems with Hermione's plan. The first problem is gathering the DA."
"I've already started on that," Ginny said. "I wrote Dean after I contacted Neville and Luna. He's gotten in touch with most of the Gryffindors."
"I can get in touch with Ravenclaw," Luna said. "They'll answer me once they know it's about the DA."
"Leave Marietta and Cho out of it," Ginny said quietly. "One's a traitor and the other has rather bad judgment."
Luna nodded. "What about Hufflepuff?"
"I can send a note to Susan," Neville replied. "We study together, so it won't look odd, me sending her an owl. She should be able to get in touch with the others."
"What's the plan if someone doesn't want to sign the pledge?" George asked.
"Plan? We're not going to force them," Ginny said.
"We didn't expect you to, Gin," Fred told her. "But the pledge itself makes it pretty obvious that something serious is going on. What's to stop a DA member from running to Dumbledore?"
"An obliviate," Luna said simply.
"Luna! We can't go mucking about with people's memories," Neville exclaimed.
"Besides, we can't use magic during the holidays," Ginny added.
"You can't, no. But we can," George told them.
When Neville and Ginny looked at him in shock, he shook his head. "Look, Harry's life has been full of people he can't trust. I don't know about the three of you, but Fred and I won't be listed among them. If that means we have to erase a memory or two, so be it."
"George is right," Fred added. "We'll bring the DA members in, one by one. If they don't sign, we'll erase the memory of the pledge and send them on their way. We'll have to come up with a story to fill in the blank, but that shouldn't be difficult."
"You realize you'll be breaking the law," Ginny warned them.
"Says one of the members of the DoM Six," George said, smiling at his baby sister.
"Yeah. What's erasing a few memories compared to breaking into the Ministry?" Fred quipped.
"What's the next problem?" Neville asked quickly, hoping to stop the twins before they gathered steam.
"Where to meet," Fred said. "The Burrow has room, but Mum's curiosity will get the better of her."
"We could use the shop, but I doubt many parents are going to let their kids trot off to Diagon Alley by themselves," George added.
"We could meet at my house. Daddy wouldn't care," Luna said. "As long as we don't go into his office, he probably won't even notice."
Ginny nodded. "That's not a bad idea. Mum knows I'm friends with Luna and she doesn't live that far from here."
"All right," George said. "Let's set a DA meeting for next Wednesday, the 24th . We can close the shop for a few hours, since weekdays tend to be slow anyway. Ginny, you won't be able to receive that many replies without Mum getting suspicious, so let Dean contact the other Gryffindors. He can let you know who's coming. Neville, you get in touch with Susan and let her take care of the Hufflepuffs, while Luna contacts the Ravenclaws."
"If we have it around noon, we could have a nice picnic outside," Luna mused.
"As long as the twins don't bring the food," Ginny muttered.
George laughed. "Nah, we'll bring the butterbeer."
"If anyone has any problems, owl George and I," Fred told them.
"If that's it, I better get back," Neville said as he stood up. "My Gran's having company tonight and she wanted me back early."
As the meeting broke up, Ginny gave the notebook and plans to the twins. She didn't think her mother would snoop, but wasn't willing to take the chance.
Once in her room, she wrote a quick note and called quietly for Dobby. When the elf appeared, she gave him the note and asked him to deliver it to Hermione. The initial stages of Operation Overthrow had begun.
La Tortuga Island, evening...
Hermione lowered Ginny's letter and looked at Ron and Harry. "Well, that's it. The DA's on board."
Harry shook his head. "They all signed," he murmured. "All of them, without question? They're insane."
"You trained 'em, mate," Ron quipped.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked.
"It means," Hermione said, glaring at Ron, "that they're loyal to you. And why wouldn't they be? Harry, you're a great teacher and they know they owe their high OWL scores to you."
Seeing he was about to protest, she waved him silent. "Ginny's idea of telling the DA about what happened at the DoM was a stroke of genius. The fact that six students fought against Death Eaters and came out alive gives them courage. That all but one of those Death Eaters were arrested and tossed into Azkaban confirms what they already knew. You're a great teacher, but you're also a leader."
Harry scowled. "Our little jaunt to the Department of Mysteries was a disaster, Hermione. Sirius died, remember?"
"She's not talking about what happened once the Order showed up," Ron said quietly. "She's taking about the fact that we managed to hold our own, with much running and hiding when the occasion called for it, against some of Voldemort's strongest followers. Before the DA, many of us would have shit ourselves if we saw a Death Eater standing in front of us. You know that. You saw the reaction at the World Cup."
"And however much we may dislike him," Hermione added, "Dumbledore is no Death Eater."
"When we're done with him, he'll never know what hit him," Ron predicted.
"Maybe. But twenty seven people signing a pledge that risks their magic isn't something to sneeze at," Harry told them. "To me, signing that pledge proves I didn't teach them a damn thing."
"Oh, great. It's broody Harry we're dealing with tonight," Ron muttered.
"Stuff it, Ron," Harry growled.
"Knock it off, both of you," Hermione snapped. "Ron, Harry's not brooding. He's just shocked to find out that he has more support than he thought. Because he doesn't think very highly of himself, he's surprised that others do."
"Hey, I'm sitting right here," Harry point out.
"Surprisingly enough, I knew that," she told him calmly. "But it's something you needed to hear. Accept it and move on. The DA will help, and they'll talk to others in their houses when the time comes."
"But..."
"Oh, shut it, mate," Ron said as he opened his Charms book. "You have the support you need to drive Dumbledore mad." He looked up at his best friend, his eyes serious. "Don't push them away."
Before Harry could reply, the dormitory door swung open and Moody limped in.
"I came by to let you know that we found Martinez," the ex-auror said tiredly.
"Where was he?" Ron asked, grinning.
"About three miles out to sea," Moody growled.
"Is he all right?" Harry asked.
"He's cold, tired and seeing three of everything at the moment. The healer's checked him out and says he should be fine, come morning." Moody shook his head. "What were thinking, letting yourself become distracted like that?"
"Distracted?" Harry exclaimed. "I wasn't distracted."
"So you meant to throw him out to sea?" Moody asked.
"Of course not! But you set me against four opponents. I needed to get them out of the way as quickly as possible. I only meant to throw him back a bit. I guess I got a little excited, that's all."
Ron buried his face in his text book and bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
"A little excited?" Moody asked incredulously. "We thought you'd tossed him into orbit! For Merlin's sake, Potter, have you learned nothing about control?"
Harry dragged his Charms book towards him. "Of course I have," he muttered. "I haven't tossed you out to sea yet, have I?"
Moody's gruff laughter surprised them all. "True enough, Potter. But you need to keep that same control when up against the enemy."
"Why?" Ron asked curiously. When everyone turned to stare at him, he squirmed a bit. "What does it matter if you toss a Death Eater out to sea? Or through a wall or out a window, for that matter. You've been teaching us to kill or maim the enemy, Moody, so why the sudden caution?"
Moody looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow.
Harry raked a hand through his hair. "I was surprised. When Martinez went flying back so high and so fast, I nearly dropped my wand. While I was busy gaping at him, the other three took me down. I found myself stripped, tied up and hanging upside down before I knew what hit me."
"Exactly!" Moody growled. "Constant vigilance!"
All three teens groaned. "We know," they chorused.
"You've all got a tough day tomorrow, as we'll be working on something new. Get that bookwork done and get to bed," Moody told them sternly.
"We'd finish a lot faster if you'd be quiet," Hermione commented a she turned the page of her book.
"I think I liked it better when you were afraid of me, Missy," Moody growled.
She looked up at him and blinked wide, innocent eyes. "I'm so sorry, sir. Did I make you angry? If so, I'll spend the rest of the night shivering in my shoes! Think of the nightmares!"
Harry and Ron both snickered.
Moody snorted. "Wise ass kids." Turning away, he limped to the door. "Finish your work and get to bed!"
"Yes, sir!" the trio exclaimed.
"And don't call me that!" Moody spat, then slammed the door closed behind him. Once outside, he looked up at the darkening sky and grinned. He was more pleased with their progress than he thought possible.
The next evening found the teens sprawled, exhausted, on their beds, bookwork, showers and dinner all but forgotten. Moving without pain was an issue, as was the double vision and trembling muscles. Moody hadn't been kidding. The day had been a disaster, from their point of view.
The ex-auror had combined their Defense and fighting classes and had enlisted the help of others. A Potion Mistress who worked for the Venezuelan Ministry had been contacted by Jorge Strauss to brew
a rare potion not normally used in training, as it was proscribed by many Ministries.
Venezuela, however, trained their aurors differently. Criminals used many dark spells, objects and other means to commit their crimes. As such, the Ministry felt it only prudent for their aurors to have experience with such means, and know how to combat them.
The criminal element of the magical world had learned to fear Venezuela's aurors, and rightly so. They were quick, efficient and, when the situation called for it, brutal. Unlike others, they had no need to brag. Their record spoke for them, and many magical governments walked softly when it came to dealing with a country that took no chances and gave no leniency to those who broke the law.
The potion created a simulacrum, or copy, of the person who ingested it that would last for an hour. It didn't take much; four drops of the brew in a small cup of water or juice was enough to produce the simulacrum. The four bottles the Potion Mistress had sent were more than enough to get the group on the island through the summer of training.
After the potion had been explained to them, the trio had watched, amazed, as Moody, Strauss, Lupin, Martinez and two other aurors had each taken the potion and created a simulacrum of themselves. Being copies, the simulacrums had a slightly slower reaction time than the original people would have, but the teens would later admit that they certainly hadn't noticed any delay.
At the end of the hour, as the simulacrums had disappeared, Ron, Harry and Hermione had each spent some time with the healer. He had been able to heal their various cuts, burns, concussions and bruises quickly enough. The exhaustion and aching muscles would have to wait until after they'd climbed into bed. The potion they'd been given would relax and rejuvenate strained muscles and ensure a full eight hours of dreamless sleep.
"Anyone else thinking about skipping dinner?" Ron asked quietly.
Hermione twitched once, then groaned.
"Who could eat?" Harry mumbled. "I'd rather take the potion Healer Delgada gave us and worry about food in the morning."
"No rest for the weary," Remus called from the doorway. "Walking to the canteen will help loosen up those muscles and keep them from cramping before you go to bed."
"Where'd he come from?" Hermione asked hoarsely.
"Dunno. Don't care, either," Harry said. He turned slightly on his bed to glare at Remus and bit back a groan. "Go away."
"No," Remus replied, mercilessly. "You all need to refuel after the workout you had this afternoon, so get up and get to dinner."
Ron grunted as he buried his head under his pillow. "Not hungry," came the muffled reply.
"That's a first," Remus said. "Ron, not hungry? Someone check Hell. I think it just froze over."
"Bugger off!" Ron exclaimed. "I'm not moving."
Remus shook his head. "Come now, it's not that bad," he told them as he walked further into the dorm. "The canteen is serving those lemon tarts you like so much, Harry. And Ron, they have lamb chops tonight."
Harry's stomach growled traitorously. When Remus grinned at him knowingly, he scowled. "Isn't it time for your flea bath, Moony?" he asked sarcastically.
"Fleas on a werewolf? Be serious. They feed on blood, if you'll remember. Have you seen many werefleas around?" he asked, amused.
Hermione raised her head. "That can be arranged, you know."
Brushing that away, Remus drew his wand and, with a few quick flicks, had the teens out of bed. Surprisingly, they had enough energy to pay him back for his rudeness.
Hermione, having learned Kreacher's plucking charm, removed all the werewolf's hair.
Ron, outraged at being dragged out of bed after finally getting comfortable, cast a spell that made Moony's eye teeth enlarge and grow down to his chin.
Harry, seeing what his friends had already done, cast three spells in quick succession. The first caused the nails on Remus' fingers and toes to grow and thicken. The second turned his skin so white he nearly glowed. The third stripped him of his clothing.
With a flick of his wand, Ron disarmed the werewolf, then silenced him.
Hermione frowned. "A naked, albino werewolf? How revolting!" When Remus glared at her in outrage, she shrugged. "Be glad I didn't neuter you."
Remus swallowed nervously.
"Hermione!" Ron and Harry both exclaimed.
"What?" she asked innocently.
"What a horrible thing to threaten a man with," Ron yelped.
While the teens argued over the merits of neutering werewolves, Remus edged over to Harry's bed and grabbed a blanket to wrap around himself.
"What's going on here?" Moody growled from the doorway. Seeing Remus wrapped in a blanket, he raised an eyebrow and turned to the teens. "What did you do?"
"Paid him back for being a prat," Harry told him.
Ron tossed Remus his wand so he could dispel the silencing charm.
"You were supposed to be at dinner ten minutes ago and I find you in here pranking each other? If you have this much energy left after today, we'll just have to up your training!" Moody told them seriously as he limped into the room.
"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed. "You don't understand. That's not what happened."
"Don't care to know the hows or whys," Moody said. "Get to dinner. Now!"
The trio looked at each other for a moment, then bolted for the door. It was amazing what a little adrenalin could do for aching muscles!
Shaking his head, Moody looked at Remus.
Pointing to his enlarged eye teeth, Remus could only shrug. Talking was painful, as his new teeth tried to impale themselves on his chin.
Sighing, Moody turned away. "Let's get you to the Healer so he can fix that spell damage."
Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office, morning...
Dumbledore finished the letter he was writing and attached it to the leg of the waiting school owl. Once the bird had left, he leaned back on his chair tiredly and massaged his temples.
Writing to the head ward breaker at Gringotts to ask for their help was a risk, but he was concerned about Harry and his friends. Grimmauld had not been cleared of all the dark objects the Black family had possessed. And then there was the elf.
Kreacher was not only unstable, he hated anyone who wasn't a Black, and barely tolerated pure bloods. What would the elf do with a halfblood and a muggleborn in the house?
Seeing no other way, Albus had requested the aid of the Goblins to take down the wards Kreacher had raised around Grimmauld. He'd stressed in his letter that an underage child was at risk, but wasn't sure it would be enough to sway them. Goblins, after all, had no love of humans.
Calling for an elf, he ordered tea, then went to work on the start of term forms he'd should have finished days ago.
An owl brought the Goblin's response later that afternoon. The letter, written by Gringotts head ward breaker, Grimjaw, was abrupt and less than pleasant.
Wizard,
That you would ask the Goblin nation to break wizarding law is outrageous and insulting. To pull down the wards on the residence in question, without the rightful owners written permission, is against your own laws. If we were to comply with your request, we would be breaking three treaties and risk the resumption of the last war. As your world is currently at war with the Dark Lord, you can ill afford a second enemy.
Your letter has been forwarded to the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, as per the treaty of 1768, and Ragnok, the Head of Gringotts in Britain, has been informed.
Grimjaw
Chief Ward Breaker
Gringotts
Placing the letter on the desk, Albus looked out the window and sighed. "I think I feel a headache coming on. Wonderful."
His floo flared to life and Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, glared out at him from the flames.
"Ah," Albus said quietly. "And there it is." Taking off his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose as his headache roared to life. "What can I do for you, Cornelius?" he asked.
"You know why I've called, Dumbledore. Director Bones and I will be coming through now."
"Of course, Cornelius. Of course." Leaning back on his chair, Dumbledore called an elf and requested tea. It was going to be a long afternoon.
La Tortuga Island, morning...
"So, we leave tomorrow morning," Ron said around a mouthful of eggs. "What's the plan for the last two weeks of summer?"
"We'll need to go to Diagon Alley to get our school supplies," Hermione mused as she watched the canteen empty out around them. They'd arrived for breakfast to find that the other residents of the camp were already halfway through the meal. "But leaving the house is dangerous."
"Dobby could get them for us," Harry told her. He reached for the pitcher of juice and refilled his glass. "I'd send Kreacher, but I don't trust him not to bite someone if they annoy him. Or look at him wrong. Or simply look at him, for that matter."
"He's not that bad," Hermione said as she pushed her cereal bowl away.
Ron grinned. "She's got a point, mate. After all, he did pluck Dumbledore."
"Maybe I should send him to Diagon Alley and let him play. I could call it a reward for loyal service," Harry told them.
"Harry," Hermione admonished.
"Now I know how Kreacher feels," Harry muttered as he reached for a muffin. "I never get to play, either."
"Says the man who kicked the Order out of Headquarters," Hermione said.
Ron snickered and pushed his plate away.
"Not going back for third helpings?" Harry asked, feigning shock. "You'll waste away to nothing if you keep that up!"
"Yeah, yeah. Finish breakfast, muffin boy, and let's get out of here. Moody said he wouldn't go lightly on us just because it was our last day." Finishing his juice, Ron wiped his mouth and pushed away from the table.
Finishing the last of his muffin, Harry, too, emptied his glass and stood up. "Ready, Hermione?"
Nodding, she stood up and walked with the boys to the door of the canteen. "Looks like we're the last to leave," she commented.
"I thought we were late this morning, what with everyone nearly finished eating by the time we got here," Ron said.
"Like Moody would ever allow us to be late," Harry scoffed.
"He wouldn't, no," Hermione agreed. "But it does make me wonder why everyone was so early."
Pushing the door open and stepping out, Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe they just want to finish the day and go back to their families. It was nice of them too..."
They were suddenly surrounded by men in black robes and masks. The three teens dove away from each other, firing spells as they went.
The running battle lasted over twenty minutes, and when it was through, two buildings had been destroyed, two were on fire and every black robed man was down, bleeding and unmoving.
"Harry? Ron?" Hermione called out, unable to see them. She'd fired her last shot while hiding behind the rubble of what used to be the canteen.
"I'm fine," Harry called back. "Ron?" He moved then, not wanting to give away his position. He was sure they'd killed or incapacitated all of their attackers, but wasn't going to take any chances.
Ron crouched down next to the last man he had killed. "I'm fine."
"What the hell was that?" Hermione asked.
Taking the mask off the man at his feet, Ron shook his head. "Well, unless I just killed Remus, I'd say it was another of Moody's damn tests. We've been fighting simulacrum."
Clapping was heard from the tree line and the three teens hunkered down, raised their wands and waited.
Moody, Lupin, Strauss and Belmont walked out of the trees, followed by the aurors.
"You're right, Weasley." Moody called out. "They were simulacrum, and the three of you did a decent job. You were attacked by an unknown enemy and kept your heads. You put into practice most of what we've taught you this summer and came out of the fight alive and relatively uninjured."
"Come on out and see the healer," Lupin told them.
Grumbling, Harry stood up and walked around the smoldering ruins he'd been hiding behind. Dusting himself off, he looked at his friends as they stepped out into the open. Taking stock, he realized that they had done rather well.
Hermione had a bleeding gash above her left eye and Ron was covered in nicks and scratches. Glancing down, Harry realized he looked much the same. Several small cuts were oozing blood and his shoulder was throbbing painfully; a gift from a flying chunk of concrete from one of the buildings.
"So, did we pass?" Hermione asked as she approached.
"Any time you walk away from a fight alive, you win," Moody told her gruffly. "The simulacrum's may not have been casting Unforgivables, but we used some spells this time that could have been lethal, had they hit you wrong."
"Nice to know," Ron muttered, scowling. "I always knew teachers were out to kill us."
"Ron," Remus admonished.
"He's not wrong," Harry said wryly. "Quirrell, the fake Moody, Umbridge... Even you, Moony. That will teach you not to forget your Wolfsbane."
"Those were exceptions," Remus told him, grimacing.
Harry winced as the Healer checked out his shoulder. "Maybe, but that doesn't make Ron any less right."
Healing his cuts, the Healer gave him a potion for his shoulder, telling him it was just bruised, then moved on to Hermione.
"What sort of trouble are we in for destroying the buildings?" Hermione asked.
"None," Strauss said. "Everything here is to be destroyed. The Muggles on the island cannot know that this place ever existed. It would raise too many questions."
"Muggles?" Ron asked as the Healer finished with him. "I haven't seen any Muggles."
"Of course not, Mr. Weasley. This area is warded to keep Muggles away," the Unspeakable explained, amused.
"What's next?" Harry asked quietly.
"Training is over," Moody announced. "Get yourselves cleaned up. The Venezuelan Minister will be here in an hour."
Harry groaned. "I'd forgotten about that."
Strauss smiled. "He will not pressure you, Mr. Potter. He simply wants to meet you and wish you luck in the coming fight."
Looking around, Harry sighed. He owned the Minister a lot more than a simple meeting for helping to set up the island and sending aurors. As much as he hated it, if this was what fame bought, he'd live with it for the next few hours and count it well spent.
"You're right, sir," he said quietly. "I owe him - all of you, actually - more than I can say. It would be churlish of me to refuse to meet him."
Hermione grinned. "Then let's get you spiffied up, Harry. You've got a Minister to meet."
Ron snickered.
"Not just Potter," Moody said.
"Alastor is right," Strauss told them. "The Minister would like to meet all three of you. He has heard much about both you and Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger. You will be at Mr. Potter's side in the coming fight and he is much impressed by such loyalty in the face of danger."
Ron groaned. "You'll pay for this, Potter."
It was Harry's turn to snicker.
Grimmauld Place...
Harry awoke with the sun shining in his eyes and groaned. Rolling over, he yawned and thought about going back to sleep.
They'd arrived back at Headquarters around noon and hadn't done much for the rest of the day. Kreacher had been happy to see them and had actually smiled at their return. Once he realized what he was doing, he'd scowled and slunk away, while muttering a few insults just loudly enough to be heard.
Dobby had gone through the accumulated mail before letting any of them touch it. He'd been right to do so, as there had been one letter from Molly, addressed to Ron, that had been a portkey. Ron had opened it after Dobby had pronounced it safe, only to find a blank sheet of paper.
Hermione had a letter from Dumbledore in which he asked her about her return to Headquarters. He'd also accused her, politely, of course, of lying to him about being upset with Harry and Ron the day she'd stormed out of the house.
She had set it aside, not bothering to answer.
Dumbledore had also sent a letter to Harry, urging him to reconsider taking Potions. He pointed out that the class was required if he wanted to become an auror. Harry had crumpled the letter in his hand and tossed into the trash.
Remembering it made Harry growl and he knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep.
Rolling out of bed, he spent some time with Hedwig, then went to take a shower. Once done, he dried off and dressed quickly as his stomach sent up polite inquiries about the state of breakfast.
Entering the kitchen a short time later, he was surprised to find Dobby at the stove. The elf explained that he'd heard Harry get up and thought he might be hungry.
For his part, Harry wonder why Kreacher wasn't throwing a fit, as he tended to be touchy about anything concerning the house. But Dobby explained that Kreacher hated cooking, and wasn't very good at it, so he'd gladly turned the chore over to him.
Sitting down at the table, Harry did a fair imitation of Ron when Dobby brought the food to the table. He ate faster than was strictly polite, but excused his poor manners by remind himself that no one but Dobby could see him, and the elf wasn't criticizing.
Ron entered the kitchen as Harry was pushing his plate away.
"Morning," Harry said.
Ron grunted, sat down and reached for a plate.
Knowing he would get nothing from his friend until he'd eaten, Harry turned to Dobby and explained that he would need to pick up their school supplies for the coming year. He authorized the elf to take the needed amount from his account to get everything the three of them needed. Seeing Ron about to protest, he explained that they couldn't leave the house safely, and that Ron's parents could pay him back once the term started.
Somewhat mollified, Ron finished breakfast as Dobby collected their lists from the library.
"So, what are we doing today?" Ron asked a bit later as he pushed his plate away and leaned back on his chair.
"Dunno, really," Harry said. Standing, he gathered the dishes and put them in the sink. He wasn't worried about Hermione missing breakfast. When given the choice, she usually ate fruit or toast in the morning. "We've been so busy the last couple of weeks that it seems wrong to have nothing to do."
"As much as I'd like to disagree with you on that, I can't." Standing, Ron took his own dishes to the sink and pulled out his wand. "Might as well get these started."
As the dishes began to wash and dry themselves, Harry looked on, surprised.
Seeing his look, Ron scowled. "What? I've seen my Mum do it enough to know the spell," he grumbled.
"Yeah, but you never offer to clean up."
"Now you see the dangers of boredom," Ron said in mock seriousness. "Come on. Let's get out of here before the refrigerator wakes up."
"Speaking of waking up, I was surprised to see you come down so early."
"Blame Moody. I rolled over, the sun hit my eyes and I panicked. I was sure the old goat would come bursting in any moment, harping about laziness and shooting stinging hexes at me again."
Chuckling quietly, they climbed the stairs and went into the library.
Looking around, Ron sighed and dropped into an arm chair. "We've finished our homework, Dobby's getting our school supplies, all of Moody's books have been read and I'm bored." He looked at Harry expectantly. "Well? You're the host. Entertain me."
"Funny you should say that," Harry replied, his eyes focused and intent.
"Uh oh, I know that look," Ron said, sitting up. "What are you planning and how much trouble are we going to be in?"
Scratching an ear, Harry looked out the window and shrugged. "I'm not even sure it will work. If it does, no one will realize we did it."
"Ah. The best kind of trouble making. The kind where we don't get caught. All right, what is it?"
"I wasn't able to fall asleep last night, so I did some thinking. You remember the summoning charm? The one I used to summon my broom during the tournament?" he asked as he sat down at the table.
"Yeah. What about it?"
"My broom was what, a few kilometers away? That got me thinking about the charm itself and how powerful it could be."
"That would depend on the power of the person casting it, wouldn't it? You had enough power to summon your broom pretty far in fourth year. With your blocks removed, the charm's got to be even stronger, now," Ron pointed out.
"That was my thought. But I'm curious to know how strong and what the limitations of the charm are. I mean, what can be summoned with it? Is there anything that can't be summoned?" Harry asked.
"Anything protected by anti-summoning spells, I'd think. Other than that, I couldn't really tell you. I've never read anything about restrictions with the summoning charm. Hermione might know."
"She probably would, but I thought maybe we could test it."
"Test what?" Hermione asked as she entered the room, a cup of tea in her hand.
"The summoning charm," Ron told her. "Harry's wondering how powerful the spell is and what restrictions, if any, there might be in using it."
"Restrictions? Well, anti-summoning charms are well known, but most people only use them on items of great value. Some people use them on their wands when they know they're going to be fighting. Aurors, for example, almost always have them on their wand holsters," she told them as she sat down. "Why?"
"Curiosity, mostly," Harry said with a shrug. Standing, he drew his wand. "How about a little test?"
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What are you planning to summon?"
"Nothing bad," Harry told her. "Nothing worth troubling yourself over."
Ron grinned. "This should be interesting."
Raising his wand, he grinned. "Accio Dudley Dursley's computer!"
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
He shrugged again. "Confusing and irritating my relatives?"
Ron laughed.
"But a computer? Do you know how many muggles are going to see that?" she asked.
"And you know they'll dismiss it. I mean, a flying computer? They'd be locked up in the nut house if they reported something like that," Harry reminded her.
"You don't know that," she told him. "Besides, the Dursleys will know. What else would explain the computer flying out of the house by itself?"
"Hmm. I hadn't thought of that." Looking around, he scowled and slipped his wand back in his pocket. "It doesn't matter anyway. It obviously didn't work."
"What's a kompooter?" Ron asked, puzzled.
As Hermione turned to explain the muggle device, the library window exploded inward, causing all three teens to duck for cover and draw their wands.
"So much for the Fidelius charm," Ron muttered into the now silent room. He'd landed behind the couch, but wasn't sure where the others had ended up.
"Oh, I think it's still in place," Harry replied quietly from across the room. "Hermione? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she said as she stood up from her position behind one of the arm chairs. "What happened?"
"Ron wanted to know what a computer was? Now we can show him, though it's a bit mangled," Harry told her, amused.
"What are you talking about?" she asked as she moved around to get a better view of what he was staring at.
"Simple. My spell worked." Waving a hand at the computer on the floor, he grinned.
Ron joined him and looked down at the thing. "Not very impressive," he said with a haughty sniff.
Harry nudged it with the toe of his shoe and watched as a bit of plaster dust trickled out of the air vents. "Looks like it went through at least one wall."
"What a shame," Ron said.
The two looked at each other, then laughed.
Scowling at them for a moment, Hermione turned away and looked at the broken glass. "May I suggest opening the window the next time you try something like this?" she asked. When they only laughed harder, she repaired the window herself. "Idiots."
"Good thing the bookcase was there or it might have gone through another wall," Ron said, trying to keep a straight face.
"Oh, I don't know. It would have had the added benefit of annoying Kreacher," Harry told him.
"Too late," the elf muttered. He stood in the doorway, holding a tea service and glaring.
"Sorry, Kreacher. I didn't think the thing through," Harry said, not trying to hide his smile.
Grunting, the elf placed the tray on the table and repaired the damage to the bookcase, though he left the computer where it was. With one last, dark look, he popped away.
"I don't remember asking for tea," Hermione said as she walked to the table.
"No one did. Kreacher's been acting more like Dobby lately. It's almost frightening," Harry said as he joined her.
"Don't let either of them hear you say that," Ron told him.
Once they were seated, each with a cup of tea in front of them, they stared at each other.
"Well?" Hermione asked. "Now what? You've proven you could summon an object, something you already knew."
"Yeah, but the distance was much greater," Ron pointed out.
"But we already knew Harry was more powerful than he was in fourth year. We are, too, just not to the same extent."
"And it didn't answer my question about possible restrictions," Harry added. "The computer was just to annoy my relatives."
"I still don't know what you mean by restrictions," Hermione said.
"Simple. Can I summon something, like a body part, with it?" he asked.
"You can't be serious," she breathed. "Harry..."
He looked at her, his eyes intent. "Remember what we were taught. Maim or kill, Hermione. And wouldn't it be better to do so from a distance?"
"Yes, but that's...Harry, it's disgusting!"
"Yeah, but he's got a point," Ron said quietly. "Would you rather face off with a Death Eater or kill him from a distance?"
"I'd rather not kill anyone!" she exclaimed. Seeing their looks, she shook her head. "I know it will probably come down to just that, but using something like this to do it? It just seems so...calculating and cold blooded!"
Ron's eyes narrowed. "It's exactly that. But isn't it better to do so from a place of safety?"
She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a few moments. "Yes, but..." She shuddered.
"So, what's the next step?" Ron asked Harry.
"Research, I think. Let's find out all we can about the summoning charm," he told them.
"Research? That I can do," Hermione said firmly as she stood up. Moving to the library shelves, she began to browse through the books. "Why don't you check the books Moody brought you, Harry?"
"I don't remember seeing anything in them on the charm, but it wouldn't hurt to look through them," he agreed.
"What about our old textbooks?" Ron asked.
"No, there's nothing in them about restrictions," Hermione told him. "I've read them enough times that I'd remember."
Nodding, the red-head stood up and moved to the nearest bookcase.
They came up for air several hours later when Dobby brought them lunch. He told them that he'd finished picking up their things for school and had put them in their bedrooms. Grabbing a sandwich from the tray, Hermione stood up and said she'd check their new Charms textbook for information.
As she walked out of the room, Ron opened a bottle of butterbeer and leaned back.
"It looks like your idea might work," he told Harry. "Though I'm not sure Hermione or I have the power to summon something from a distance."
"Maybe, but if you summoned something in tandem, casting at the same time and for the same thing, it might work."
"Possibly, though I've never heard of anything like that."
"Me either, but it's worth a try. You could start with something small and nearby and see if it worked."
"We can talk to Hermione about it later," Ron said as he reached for a sandwich. "Either way, it looks like we won't find the answers in a book."
Harry frowned down at the sandwich in his hand. "No, it doesn't. So maybe we should just try it and see if it works."
Ron shrugged. "I'm game. But where do you want to start."
"Internal organs first."
"Do you mind? I'm eating!"
"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly.
"I'll live. Besides, if you're going to go through with this, you might want to do it while Hermione's upstairs," he said, looking at his lunch forlornly. "If it works, I'll only sick the thing up," he muttered as he placed it on his napkin and pushed it away.
Standing, Harry sent him an apologetic look and drew his wand. "Accio Pettigrew's heart!"
Ron blanched. "Harry, open the window!"
"Crap. Forgot about that!" he said. Rushing to the window, he opened and stood back.
They waited for a few tense minutes. When nothing happened, Harry's shoulders slumped.
"I really wanted that to work," he said quietly.
"We don't know how far the rat is from us. It might just take a bit of time," Ron told him.
"Yeah, that's true."
Ron looked at the open window, then down at the food in front of him. "Oh, well. If it comes back up, so be it." Reaching for his sandwich, he began to eat.
Harry joined him a few minutes later.
Hermione walked into the library as the sun was beginning to set.
"There's nothing in the new textbook about any restrictions in the summoning charm," she told them as she sat down and placed the new book on the table.
"We think we found one," Harry said.
"Which book was it in?" she asked curiously.
"It wasn't in a book," Ron explained. "Harry tried to summon Pettigrew's heart."
Hermione gagged. Seeing it, both boys blanched.
"Don't sick up here!" Ron exclaimed.
She glared at him, then turned to Harry. "You tried to summon an internal organ?"
"Yeah, but it didn't work."
"I don't know if the spell can reach that far into the body," she told him. "Even if it could, I don't think something like the heart would be strong enough to break out of the chest wall. If the spell worked, the heart is probably nothing more than a few bloody pieces after being yanked through the ribcage."
"If that's the case, we'll never know if he's dead," Ron added.
"Exactly. If you're going to do something like this, you need to make sure you have some sort of proof that your spell did exactly what you wanted it to."
"And since his heart isn't here, we can assume it didn't," Harry concluded.
"That would be the safe bet. Assuming the spell worked and killed him is a bad idea," Ron said. "I guess that means leaving off the internal organs."
Shuddering, Hermione stood up. "I'm going to get a cup of tea and ask Dobby about dinner. Let's hope he's not serving liver or something."
"Oh, thank you very much, Hermione," Ron grumbled as she left the room. "Way to kill my appetite!"
"You're welcome," she called back from the hall.
"Her sense of humor is becoming a bit more twisted than I'd like," he grumbled to Harry.
"Hey, at least she took your advice and lightened up."
The ticking of the clock on the wall grew louder as both boys were lost in thought. Harry stared out the still open window, and Ron scowled down at the table top.
"Wait," Ron said suddenly, causing Harry to jump slightly. "Hermione said, and I agree, that internal organs are a bad idea. But what about something else? Something external?"
Harry frowned. "Summoning their clothes or shoes isn't going to stop them from casting a killing curse. The Death Eaters don't strike me as being prone to modesty while dueling." His eyes widened suddenly and he looked at Ron. "But, what if..."
"Yeah, what if?"
"Well, there's one way to test it, though I think we'll have to modify the idea a bit," Harry said.
"Modify away, mate," Ron said airily.
Standing, Harry drew his wand and thought for a moment. "Well, here goes nothing. Keep your fingers crossed." Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand. "Accio Snape's Dark Mark!"
Ron looked at Harry incredulously. "His Mark?"
"Well, a one armed Potion's Master wouldn't be much...Oh, hell, I could have solved your Potions problem for you if I'd just summoned his whole arm!" Harry exclaimed.
"Hey, if this works, you can always fix that," Ron told him. He shook his head. "You know, you have a twisted streak in you. I mean, I was thinking of Malfoy's finger or Pettigrew's big toe. But Snape's Dark Mark?"
"If it works, it should be interesting to hear how he explains to his Master why his Mark is gone," Harry said viciously.
Authors Notes:
As the disclaimer pointed out, the crack has begun. Now, you've just had a hint of it here, but I figured a warning was in order. So, is everyone listening? Yes? Good. Here goes!
The background work on this story has ended, for the most part. The rest of the chapters are crack. Lots of humor, with a few darker moments. The whole point is to trash canon as much as possible and make you laugh until your sides split, your keyboards and monitors are ruined because some of you still haven't learned not to drink anything while reading one of our stories, and your animals no longer trust you, as you keep scaring the hell out of them. If you get yourself fired while reading at work, it's your own fault. You've been warned, so no complaints, dear readers!
So, we had a reviewer (Agouraki – you can read it if you want, folks) who reviewed chapter three. And I do have something to say to him. Thank you so much for the compliment! It's awesome to know that you think our writing about emotions is so realistic. Thanks for the review, and have a wonderful day!
Hope you enjoyed the chapter, folks!
~Alyx – who walks away with a bounce in her step and a gleam in her eye,