A/N: Thank ye kindly for yer reviews.

FINAL PROTOCOL

Lord Silvere

Chapter Seven: Diddling Dementors

"What has the Ministry figured out?" Professor McGonagall asked as soon as she and Professor Snape were admitted to the Headmaster's office after the departure of Director Bones and various Ministry investigators.

"Madam Bones and the Aurors were unable to draw any conclusions," Professor Dumbledore said, politely proffering the bowl of lemon drops to McGonagall and Snape, who, as usual, both declined to partake as they sat down. "It did not help that Quirrell and any useful evidence ended up as a pile of ashes."

"I am confident that it was poison from what I observed," Snape said.

Dumbledore nodded, seeming to accept Snape's assessment.

"So, what is their next step?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "I suspect Minister Fudge will develop a personal interest. Given that Quirrell spent some time abroad recently, I have no doubt that Fudge will find some travel-related explanation of Quirrell's death, such as a rare disease. Perhaps even a fungus that causes instant death or combustion and is the subject of urban legends."

"That doesn't help us," McGonagall said. "It leaves a murderer loose in the halls of Hogwarts."

Dumbledore shrugged and shared a knowing look at Snape. "I doubt that anybody who would have taken the time to kill Professor Quirrell has an interest in killing a student


Professor Quirrell's absence during the final weeks of the school year brought Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Hannah together with Susan again because the group was no longer investigating Quirrell during the only free time Susan had to interact with them.

Ron seemed to be less than friendly toward Susan because of her refusal to play along with his leadership on the Quirrell surveillance. But, he appreciated the opportunity to regale Susan with stories of how they had followed Quirrell around until his unexpected demise and how they had been prepared to take matters into their own hands should Quirrell have gotten too close to his goal.

Susan did her best to play the part of a good sport. Although she was having various frictions with the younger versions of her old acquaintances, she knew they had the potential to grow up into excellent people with whom she would like to be on friendly terms.

It was difficult for Susan to be entirely sociable on the train ride home, though. Two weeks prior to the end of term, Harry had decided to go completely cold turkey despite Susan's most earnest pleas. Without his potions, he had sunken deep into a sleepy withdrawal from which he had not yet emerged.

For Susan, the stress was beginning to take a toll on her. Each time Harry went into withdrawal, Susan began to feel fatigued. Although Susan was unhappy about Harry's decision to go cold turkey and was feeling miserable for it, she was thrilled that there would be no further withdrawal stages.

Please let him recover soon, Susan begged silently as her friends chattered.

"What do you think, Susan?" Hermione asked.

Susan started from her reverie. "Sorry, what was the topic? I must have dozed off."

"We were talking about getting together this summer, maybe at one of our houses," Neville said.

"Oh," Susan said. "That sounds great. We may need to coordinate our schedules. I know that my aunt has a holiday planned, but I don't recall the dates."

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding vigorously. "We will need to find dates where we are all free."

"Keep me updated," Susan said, looking out the window and resuming her thoughts about Harry's health.

The summer began with Susan spending nearly every one of her spare moments during Amelia's work hours at Drury Lane. Normally, Susan would have relished her time at the house. But, Harry was in withdrawal and largely unconscious. Susan spent many long hours sitting at Harry's bedside when not taking frequent catnaps to relieve her stress. Eventually she would retreat to her aunt's house to keep up appearances.

At the end of the fourth week of Harry's long withdrawal, Susan arrived at the house on Drury Lane one morning to find Harry lying on the floor near the foot of the stairs.

"Harry!" Susan shrieked, running over and kneeling next to him.

I'm fine. Just a little bruised, Harry said to Susan through their mental link, his thoughts moving quickly and cogently for the first time since the alternate future where he had fallen in battle. I was walking around upstairs just fine.

"Oh, Harry," Susan said as she took deep, calming breaths, "you could have been seriously injured. Did you fall down the stairs? What happened?"

I was already near the bottom when I fell down, Harry explained. My mind at last feels fine, but I am having trouble moving around.

"And, you don't seem to be able to speak with your voice," Susan observed.

I've tried, but nothing comes out of my mouth when I try to speak, Harry told Susan through their mental link.

Susan stood up. "Here, I'll help you up," she said.

Slowly, Harry stuck up his arm. Susan grabbed it and hoisted Harry to his feet.

"Let's get you some food," Susan said. "It's fortunate that you have come out of your withdrawal. My aunt and I are going on holiday, and we need to figure out what you're going to do about that."


This is ridiculous, Harry complained to Susan through their mental link. He was sitting in a wheelchair, and Susan was pushing the chair through the Gare d'Orsay in Paris. The train station looked like it should be busy with people boarding and disembarking from trains, but there were no trains, and the Muggles in the building were preoccupied with admiring French art. I am perfectly capable of walking.

I know, Susan responded. But, I need to get you on the train and then go back before Aunt Amelia and her friends leave the hotel. I don't have time to wait for you to inch your way across the platform and onto the train.

Harry frowned, but made no response. Susan had already won the argument the night before during dinner. Susan had told Amelia that she was unwell and wanted to stay at the hotel while Amelia and her friends toured Paris. Susan and Harry had then sneaked out of the hotel and treated themselves to a dinner cruise on a Bateau Mouche. Amelia and her friends had been none the wiser as to Susan's subterfuge.

Susan pushed Harry's wheelchair toward the entrance of what was officially Platform 3 1/8. Because it was now the only functioning train platform at the Gare d'Orsay, the magical community no longer bothered to refer to it by number.

Susan pushed Harry through the entrance and onto the platform. There, Harry and Susan found the magical world's version of the Orient Express under steam and preparing to carry witches and wizards on a tour of the magical villages and sites of Europe and Asia Minor.

This is going to be so fun! Susan told Harry mentally. I mean, this is really the first time I have been on a holiday since … , well, since the first time I went on the Orient Express with my aunt in our original timeline.

I suppose it has been a long time, Harry responded as he reflected on the amount of time Susan had been looking after him and enduring the war against Lord Voldemort.

Susan found the conductor and presented the ticket Harry had purchased at the last minute. Harry and Susan were early enough that the conductor offered them his personal attention. With the conductor's help, Susan got Harry on the train where they checked Harry's private sleeping compartment and found that his luggage had safely arrived. Then, they set him up in one of the railroad cars next to a window that would give him a good view of the passing countryside.


With fascination, Harry watched from his seat on the train as his fellow travelers arrived on the platform, interacted, and eventually boarded the train. Having been preoccupied with his ongoing recovery, Harry had not realized how much he had missed watching people or being out in public without fear that some Death Eater squad was going to attack him.

Finally, he spotted Susan as she arrived with her aunt and a small group of witches who appeared to be the same age as Amelia. It was his understanding that the group consisted of old Hogwarts friends having something of a reunion trip. The older witches were all talking to each other excitedly while Susan maintained something of a distance between herself and the group. Although Susan believed the older women would welcome her into their group, it was her plan to fade away and spend time with Harry.

Her plan seemed to have worked, for within a few minutes of the Orient Express pulling out of the station, Susan appeared in the Harry's rail car and took the seat next to him. She lightly gripped Harry's wrist and grinned. "We're off!"

Harry smiled back, beginning to wonder why he had never really noticed Susan at Hogwarts in the original timeline.

"What are you thinking?" Susan asked.

How did we not become closer friends at Hogwarts? Harry asked.

"You were in Gryffindor, and I was in Hufflepuff," Susan explained. "There is not much inter-house unity or mixing, you know."

Still, I would like to think that I was smart enough to notice somebody like you in the crowd. Harry pushed back.

"I wasn't very noticeable back then," Susan said.

Your hairstyle and fashion sense has changed, Harry admitted.

I'm not going to talk about the time travel to anybody, Susan told Harry mentally, but I refuse to go back to looking like a dork and wearing fashions that, at least to me, are old.

Harry smiled and tried to laugh, but for some reason, opening his mouth was the most he could manage for a laugh. Not wanting to focus on the problem, Harry settled on smiling some more and letting the warm sun shining through the window lull him into a nap.


When Harry woke up about forty minutes later, Susan was chatting amiably with two Asian witches who had taken seats near Harry and Susan. As soon as Susan saw that Harry was awake, she made introductions.

"Bob, this is Peggy Soo and her sister Mary. They're from China." Susan turned to Peggy and Mary. "I, of course, already told you about Bob. He cannot speak, but he can hear anything you say to him."

Bob? Harry asked.

I realized that maybe we should give you an alias during this trip, Susan told Harry as she carried on the conversation with Peggy and Mary.

Harry listened as Susan chatted with Peggy and Mary for another ten minutes. Finally, the two sisters left.

"They were nice," Susan observed as soon as Peggy and Mary had left the rail car.

Peggy was nice. Mary was unbearable, if you ask me, Harry said. And her leather pants were stupid, too. They ought to be burned.

Susan grinned. If you say so.

Why are you laughing? Harry asked.

I'm just happy, Susan replied, relishing that Harry was beginning to do more than merely survive.

The first afternoon and evening on the train passed quickly, and soon it was time for everybody to go to bed.

"Fortunately, it looks like my aunt is going to be up late with her friends," Susan observed as she led Harry, who was walking slowly, to his private sleeping compartment. "If she doesn't keep up that pattern, you may have to go to bed early or go alone."

I'll be fine either way, Harry said confidently.

"Key?" Susan asked when they arrived at Harry's door.

Harry extracted the key from his pocket. Susan took it and opened the compartment. While Harry brushed his teeth, Susan made sure that his bed was in order. When Harry came out from the small bathroom, he patiently endured Susan's ministrations as she reminded him that he had one of the stolen Bones wands and that he need only reach out to her mentally if he needed anything.

Eventually, Susan had literally tucked Harry into bed and had even tested everything to make sure he was not at risk of falling out.

I'll be fine, Harry said firmly.

Detecting Harry's attitude, Susan was quick to admit to herself that she was being a little overbearing. But, instead of being embarrassed, Susan suddenly felt mischievous. Grinning, she leaned forward and kissed Harry on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, dear."

Harry's reaction was slow in coming. It arrived after Susan was nearly to the compartment she was sharing with her aunt.

I guess you can tuck me in anytime you want.


For Harry, it was a carefree vacation and celebration of the progress he had made since arriving in the past until one day when Harry and Susan were having tea in the dining car as the Orient Express slowly wound its way through Switzerland.

"We need to start thinking about the upcoming school year and the Chamber of Secrets," Susan told Harry.

I suppose so, Harry mentally communicated, somehow sounding glum. Instead of holding his teacup in the traditional manner, he had it gripped in both hands. I have given a little bit of thought to the situation. Perhaps none of the Chamber of Secrets stuff will happen because I am not known to be at Hogwarts. In our future, I was the target.

Susan shook her head. You gambled that no action would be necessary with the philosopher's stone. In the end, I had to poison Quirrell to prevent Ron, Hermione, and our other friends from provoking a confrontation between themselves and You-Know-Who.

I will endeavor to come up with a contingency plan, then, Harry sighed a he set down the teacup and reached out for a sandwich.


When the train moved into Hungary and made a stop for shopping and visits to tourist sites, there was an addition to the passenger list. It seemed that Gilderoy Lockhart was coming off his latest story-collecting expedition and wanted an audience to witness his triumphant return. The staff responsible for the entertainment aspect of the train ride were more than happy to oblige him. It certainly reduced their workload, after all.

"He's going to give a preview of his upcoming books during dinner," Susan told Harry, the tone of her voice betraying a certain amount of excitement.

You do realize he doesn't actually do what he claims, don't you? He finds people who did those things and memory charms them, Harry told Susan.

Susan frowned. "Are you sure?"

Harry briefly recounted how he had learned these things from Lockhart in the original timeline.

This considerably dampened Susan's enthusiasm for Lockhart's appearance. Oh Harry, I wish we could tell everybody about everything you have done.

You've done plenty, too, Harry observed.


In Bulgaria, all the Orient Express's passengers disembarked and took up lodgings at three small inns in the magical village. Unfortunately, Harry and Susan found themselves separated the next day when Amelia took Susan for some one-on-one shopping, sight-seeing, and a courtesy visit to the Bulgarian magical government. With there being so much Muggle unrest in the region, the Bulgarian magical government would be thankful for a friendly gesture from the British Ministry of Magic.

This left Harry to go on a tour of a nearby abandoned castle and its grounds with some of the other train passengers. The group included Gilderoy Lockhart and the Soo sisters. The tour guide was understanding of Harry's apparent physical condition and was as accommodating as possible.

Unfortunately, no accommodation could enable Harry to keep up with the group as they toured the upper levels of the castle. Good naturedly, Harry voicelessly gestured that he was okay to sit on a rock outside the castle and wait for that portion of the tour to conclude. He used the time to think about the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry became aware of a problem when Gilderoy Lockhart's girly screams broke through his reverie. Suddenly feeling cold, Harry glanced up to the location from where Lockhart's screams were coming and saw three Dementors circling the castle, high in the air. It looked like a few of the witches and wizards on the tour were attempting to cast spells to scare away the Dementors.

Oh, bother, Harry thought, slowly fumbling to find the wand Susan had given him from the trio of wands she had stolen upon their arrival in the past. Harry found the wand and slowly raised it skyward, aiming toward the Dementors. Taking a deep breath, Harry made his first attempt to cast a spell since traveling through time.

Fearing that his skills or magic might be crippled in the same way that some of his other abilities were crippled led Harry to strain as hard as he had ever strained to cast a spell. Expecto Patronum! he shouted in his mind.

The result was impressive. From afar, it appeared that some sort of ethereal nuclear weapon had exploded. The Dementors were scared out of their minds and fled even before the magic had time to coalesce into a stag.

Um, Harry? came Susan's voice in Harry's mind.

Yes? Harry replied.

Is there something you would like to share with the class?

Do I have to share right now? Harry asked, already aiming his wand at the entrance of the castle that the tour group had used.

The sooner the better, Susan said.

Harry did not respond because he was preoccupied. As Harry had expected, Gilderoy Lockhart burst from the castle, his wand drawn, looking for the person responsible for the heroics.

Obliviate, Harry silently cast, hitting Lockhart square in the forehead with a memory charm. Harry then cast a couple crude memory modification charms on Lockhart, not feeling one bit guilty because, ironically, both Harry and Lockhart would be getting exactly what they wanted.


The next night, at the hotel, Gilderoy Lockhart was more than happy to regale the Orient Express's passengers with a retelling of the events and a preview of his already half-written book on the subject—Diddling with Dementors. The passengers thought the book title strange and wondered about the possible innuendo, but Lockhart thought it entirely appropriate because Harry had put a little something extra in the charms he had cast upon Lockhart.

You're a fast thinker, Susan told Harry for the umpteenth time as she and Harry largely ignored Lockhart's speech. They were seated at a table near the back with Peggy and Mary Soo.

The plan just fell into place, Harry replied.

Peggy and Mary were discussing the incident and everything they and everyone else had done or not done to fight off the Dementors.

"I can't believe I just froze up like that and choked," Peggy said to Harry and Susan, interrupting their mental communications. "I wish I could go back and do it again."

Harry nodded sympathetically.


The Orient Express reached Istanbul where the passengers extensively toured the city and enjoyed their time. All too soon, it was time for the Orient Express to make the return journey to Paris.

By that time, Harry had completely focused his attention on the Chamber of Secrets problem and spent most of his days pondering the situation from wherever Susan parked him for the day. Susan was still enjoying herself, and despite wanting to spend time with Harry, had found herself drawn into her aunt's group of friends from time to time. Although she appeared to be a young girl, mentally, she was well into her thirties and got along well with the older women.

It was during this time that an owl found the train and delivered to Susan a letter from Hermione.

"She's invited Hannah, Neville, Ron, and I for a weekend stay," Susan told Harry, waving the letter at him. "Did something like that happen in the original timeline?"

We need to get our hands on the diary, Harry replied, apparently not listening very closely to Susan.

"What?" Susan said.

Sorry, Harry told Susan in her mind, I was just thinking. What was the question?

Susan explained the situation and asked Harry for his take.

I don't know what is going on. It was just Ron, Hermione, and I in the other timeline. I haven't a clue about how the friendship is supposed to play out now, Harry said.

"Well, I'll write to tell her that I'll gladly go for a weekend visit." Susan said. "I hope things don't get too childish, though."


Only two days later, another owl came with a letter in which Hermione awkwardly explained to Susan that Neville had been invited to Ron's house for the same weekend and that Hermione wondered if Susan could make it for a different weekend.

"Apparently, Ron is not overly interested in the females," Susan said with exasperation as she and Harry sat together in the observation car. "Poor Hermione must feel this exclusion keenly."

He was clueless until well after fourth year, Harry informed her, the expression on his face suddenly breaking into a wide smile.

"You seem cheerful," Susan observed, craning her neck to watch some of scenery as the Orient Express wound through the mountains.

I just had a hilarious idea about how to cope with the Chamber of Secrets, Harry said. I almost hope we cannot find the diary soon enough to stop the Heir of Slytherin from terrorizing the school for a little while. But, being the mature adult that I am, I will of course make a diligent effort to wrap this up as efficiently as possible. Speaking of which, why don't you write Gringotts and tell them to get us some mandrakes?

"I don't know what this diary is of which you keep referencing," Susan sighed.

I'll tell you later, Harry promised.

"Excellent," Susan said. "I'll write the bank for mandrakes and let Hermione know that I am free for nearly any weekend once we get back to England.


Harry and Susan's adventure on the Orient Express ended without further incident. Within a few days of getting home, further word about the weekend visit arrived. It seemed Neville had taken it upon himself to be the diplomat of the group. He had proposed to Ron that Ron come to his house for a weekend and that everybody else could come, too.

Upon Ron receiving this invitation and asking his parents for permission to go, Molly Weasley learned for the first time that Ron's circle of friends included three witches. Seeing that these witches could at the very least prove friendly to Ginny and possibly turn into marriage material for one or more of her sons, Molly took things into her own hands.

She personally contacted all the other parents or parent surrogates and suggested that not only should all the children come to the Burrow, but that they should also invite Luna Lovegood, who would be starting Hogwarts in a few short weeks.

This settled it, and the parents mutually decided that all the children would go to the Burrow on Monday morning, stay for a couple of days, and then go to Diagon Alley on Wednesday, where they would be able to meet up with their parents and do their shopping for school. Parents and children would then have one last weekend together before the school term started.

Molly's schedule fit perfectly into Harry's plans because that Wednesday happened to be the day that Gilderoy Lockhart would be signing copies of his new book, Magical Me. By Harry's calculation, it was the day that Lucius Malfoy would visit Diagon Alley with his son, Draco, and place the diary in Ginny Weasley's cauldron.

The Sunday prior to the weekend found Harry and Susan in the bathroom together at the house on Drury Lane. Thanks to a dye job, Harry was now a blonde.

"We should have done this before going on the Orient Express. It's a miracle nobody recognized you," Susan said as she produced a makeup kit. "I probably won't be able to put this stuff on you for Wednesday, so pay attention."

Yes, mother, Harry said cracking a smile.

Susan ignored the quip. "You take this brush, use this makeup, and brush it over your scar. Alternatively, maybe you could use this cream," Susan said as she began experimenting with the makeup and Harry's scar. Eventually, she and Harry developed a process that covered the scar without making Harry look too weird. Harry then demonstrated to Susan that he could do it on his own.

"All right, let's hope we can find the diary," Susan said as she placed the makeup in a location where Harry would be able to access it easily on his own.


Sitting at the Weasley dinner table, Susan did her best to eat while enduring the knowing gaze of Luna Lovegood. After dinner, while most of the Weasley family's guests played or watched an amateur Quidditch game, Susan and Luna had their one-on-one.

"I know what you did," Luna said. "I see his blood on your hands. And your blood. Everywhere. Gushing. Dripping."

"And yet, I am standing here before you," Susan said, struggling to maintain a neutral demeanor.

"No, you are both standing before me," Luna said.

"If that is so, then he, too, is alive," Susan replied.

"That is an immaterial exaggeration," Luna opined. "But, I think you will find that the benefit outweighs the price."

"If you say so," Susan replied.

"No, I said so."

"I take it you prefer semantics over colloquialism."

"Just remember one thing."

"What?" Susan asked.

Luna looked at Susan from behind serious eyes and spoke in an ominous tone of voice. "Bacon is the cheapest vegetable."