Chapter 10: Padfoot and Prongs
"You-Know-Who has a spy in the Magical Law Enforcement staff Kingsley; it's the only thing that makes sense." Arthur Weasley was saying tiredly.
"None of the senior staff would turn to his side from our division. I know them all too well." Kingsley replied protectively. "They're good men."
"It could be in the Minister's own people." Someone Harry hadn't heard before suggested.
"Well I've known most of the men in our department for years. The traitor's not there." Kingsley said with an air of definitiveness.
"I knew Pettigrew for years." Harry heard Lupin's voice say quietly.
Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were sitting upstairs in the dining room, upgraded Extendable Ears to their ears. Fred and George had given them to them as soon as the Order members returned. Harry knew it was because they had been forbidden to go to Azkaban with the Order.
"What kind of clearance level would they need?" Bill was now asking.
"They knew where all the recording equipment was, how to get past all of the charms, where exactly to go to disable the anti-apparition jinxes..." Moody told him. "Only the Head of the Magical Law Department and the heads of the sub-divisions would know that kind of information. Unless the security has been getting lax since I left, Kingsley, one of your pals is the man."
"It's not our department that's the problem Mad-Eye. It's Fudge! You should see what he's done to security in the Ministry, he wants to know everything whenever he wants it, it'd be easy to find out anything for his staff." Tonks said.
"Sooner he goes the better." Kingsley rumbled. "Hope Amelia applies; we might get some proper security back in our internal affairs. Tonks is right – Fudge has made it a circus."
"What about Veritaserum?" One of the twins asked, "Check out the people who could've done it."
"It wouldn't work Fred," Bill told his brother, "You can bet any spy would take antidotes to truth potions every day, they'd be masters at techniques for defending their minds too. It just wouldn't be reliable enough."
"Keep your eyes out, all of you," Moody was saying, "even on people you think are friends. We've been betrayed by people we thought were our own before. Constant vigilance, that's the way."
"When'll Albus be here?" Someone asked, the voice seemed slightly familiar to Harry, but he couldn't place it.
"He's talking with Madam Bones about security, and where they can put prisoners." Arthur Weasley's voice replied. "He said he'd arrange an Order meeting tomorrow, he'll let us know in the normal way."
"I don't know what happened in Severus' hearing," Kingsley said, "but I think she's had more than enough of Fudge – he'd be furious if he finds out that the two of them were meeting about something like this, but I don't think she gives a damn."
"Well we all know that worse than him might get elected." Moody growled. "Dumbledore ought to get into his head that that's where we need him most, but he won't leave the damned school."
X x X x X x X x X
"So," George Weasley asked early the next morning (there hadn't been time to discuss it when the meeting had ended) "I take it you heard everything?"
"Yup." Ron told him. "So there was no-one there when they arrived?"
"Well, there was," Fred corrected him, "but they seemed to know exactly where to break the charms to stop themselves being seen, and exactly where to cast their own spells to stop anyone getting to them. By the time the Order got through, they were all gone."
"Malfoy too?" Harry asked, knowing the answer.
"Everyone was gone, even the non-Death Eaters."
"So the people he set free have almost certainly joined him." Ginny summed up glumly.
"Yup." George confirmed.
"How do we stop You-Know-Who if he has spies in the Law Enforcement Office?" Ron asked. "He'll know everything the Ministry is doing."
"We better hope he doesn't have spies in the Order." Harry said.
No-one said a word. Everyone looked very, very tense.
"So..." Fred began tentatively, "Did Snape sound convincing in his hearing? Is he a spy?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other, and then at Hermione.
"Er... I really don't fancy ending up like Carl Ferkosky –" Ron began.
"Carol Verkausky." Hermione corrected.
"– Yeah, her – so I dunno how much we can say about it."
"Dumbledore trusts Snape." Hermione said exasperatedly. "I don't think it matters what he said in the trial. If we can't trust Dumbledore's opinions, who can we trust?"
"Dumbledore makes mistakes." Harry told her, in a tone that revealed a touch of exasperation as well. "Yeah, he's really powerful, clever and all, but he's still human, he still makes mistakes. He gives everyone second chances – sure, that works when it comes to people like Hagrid, but what if he was wrong to give Snape one?"
"And what if he was right?" Hermione shot back, "What if all this time he has been giving Dumbledore important information that has helped Dumbledore fight Voldemort?"
"Then why were so many people killed earlier in the summer? If Dumbledore knew what Voldemort was doing, why did he let so many people die?" George replied.
"Imagine if he'd saved them all, then he would have revealed that he had a spy in Voldemort's Death Eaters. Voldemort would have known it was Snape." Hermione said.
"So you mean he'd let all those people die, just to keep his spy alive?" Ginny said in horror. "Dumbledore wouldn't do that."
Harry looked around. Ron looked a bit pale, Hermione did too, but also looked determined not to criticise Dumbledore for anything regardless, and the twins had identical expressions of unease. It was a scary thought, that Dumbledore might let people die in order to try to win this war.
"What if it meant that a thousand times more people lived?" Hermione asked, doing her best not to sound unconvinced herself, but failing.
"Why should Dumbledore decide who lives or not?" Ron asked her. "What do you do if he decides you're not worth saving?"
"It's not like that." Hermione said horrified. "What if he had two choices – one which meant thousands died, the other that meant hundreds died? What would you do?"
"I'd find another way." Harry told her.
"It's not as simple as that." Hermione told him. She seemed the only person who was willing to argue for Dumbledore. "What if there is no other way?"
"There's always another way." Harry told her stubbornly.
"Dumbledore's been doing his best to protect people Harry." George told him. "He's had almost all the Order working all summer on providing protective charms for people, but you can't protect all the Muggles that are out there. How do you explain a charm that would prevent them entering a house without a password?"
"But that's different... you're not killing people. Actually letting someone die to save others... that's not right." Harry said.
"That's not killing people." Lupin's voice came from the doorway. "If there are two groups of people that might die because of Voldemort, and you can only save one of them, then you have still saved one of them. Voldemort is the one culpable for the deaths of the other group. You can't afford to blame yourself for the death of the others."
"That's heartless!" Ginny told him.
"That's war." Lupin replied sadly, walking over towards them. "In war people die. It's decisions like that you have to make in the Order. That's why we wouldn't let you join us last year, that's why your mother didn't want you to join this year, Fred and George. Having to make a decision between saving a pregnant woman or saving a father and his two sons is one nobody should have to make. None of you should have to play any part in a war."
"And the Order and Dumbledore have the right to make these decisions?" Ron asked.
"It's not a matter of right." Lupin said heavily. "We have to. If Death Eaters are attacking somewhere then we have to try to save as many people as we can, whilst at the same time fighting the enemy. None of the deaths would occur if it weren't for the Death Eaters. If they kill an innocent, or one of us, or we kill one of them, they were the ones that caused the death. That is the difference between defending and attacking. When you attack, you are setting out to cause harm, when you defend you are setting out to prevent it."
Seeing that none of them, even Hermione, seemed to be convinced, he continued. "Look, let's put it this way. If there were two groups of people, both in identical danger of dying, and you only had enough time to save one of them, what do you do?"
"There's no way to save them both?" Ron asked.
"No, and the longer you try to think of a way to save them both, the harder it is to save one of them. You have to make a split second decision, and go for it. It hurts – it hurts like hell – but you have to remember that if it wasn't for you, if you weren't there to make that decision, then more people would have died. Do you understand?"
They all nodded. "But that's not actually causing people to die yourself. It's not the same thing." Ginny argued.
"Okay, let's take it one step further. If someone was about to kill an innocent family, and you had one chance to stop them even if it meant killing them, should you do it?"
"Yes." Fred, George and Ron said immediately.
Hermione bit her lip, "If there was no other way of stopping them?"
Lupin nodded.
"I would." Ginny said very quietly.
Harry, who had stayed very quiet during this, glanced at Hermione, and had, as he had had so often this summer, the distinct feeling that she had just been looking at him, even though she was looking at Lupin.
"I guess it would be the right thing to do." Hermione said, sounding convinced.
"But that's still not the same as allowing one lot of people who you could save die, just so you gain a tactical advantage." Ron said.
"Okay then, let's take one more step. Suppose that you know that there is a risk that some people may suffer, even die, but the reward for that, is that it greatly increases the chance of stopping far, far, more people suffering the same fate. What do you do?"
And at this their faces grew uncertain once more. It was Harry that spoke softly, not to the group as a whole, but rather to Ron.
"It's like chess... You always told me that you had to make sacrifices to win, Ron. That sometimes you had to lose a piece here to checkmate the opposition somewhere else. That's why you always beat me, I'm too busy trying to keep them all alive."
"That's different though." Ginny said, horrified. "I mean, that's just chess, this is people's lives we're talking about!"
"Ron's right though. Chess may not be the same as real life, but to win a war you have to make sacrifices. Sometimes, they can even cost people's lives. Is it the right thing to do?" Lupin shrugged. "I often remind myself of how many people's lives will be saved, not just people alive today, but people who aren't even born yet, if we get rid of Voldemort. And every Death Eater that can't support him, every innocent we save, every new piece of information we have to fight him, it all helps."
"Victory at all costs?" Hermione asked dubiously.
"Possibly, but it depends what that 'Victory' stands for. A 'Victory' that stands for getting rid of Lord Voldemort isn't enough for me. A 'Victory' that signifies a world that is changed for the better however... One where people like Voldemort can't hurt us, one where true justice is upheld, one where prejudices, whether of blood, or otherwise, don't exist."
"But if to get that you had to kill innocent people yourself..." Hermione trailed off.
"... then it could never produce the true 'Victory'." Lupin finished. "How can you build a paradise on a foundation of arid soil? If a Death Eater kills somebody, then it is the Death Eater's own fault. Blaming yourself for other people's actions is pointless, and yet a mistake I myself have made all too often. I don't mean that you shouldn't try to take into account what other people are likely to do, but like in the first example, you can't blame yourself for not being physically able to save everybody."
"Have you... Have you ever k- killed anyone Moony?" Harry asked quietly.
All eyes turned back to him. Lupin's face was a picture of composure, but the twins, Harry noticed, looked unusually sober. Harry wondered if they had fully understood what being in the Order might mean. Lupin's eyes flickered downwards, and replied in an equally soft voice.
"Yes, I have."
"During work for the Order?" Fred asked.
"In work against Voldemort, yes." Lupin told him. "It isn't something I'm proud of, but yet I am not ashamed of what I did either. It was something that had to be done." He then added lightly, "By the way, how did you get those Extendable Ears to work around your mother's Imperturbable charms?"
It was something that had to be done. And that, after all, could be said about the Prophecy looming over Harry. Killing Voldemort was something somebody had to do – otherwise he would just go on torturing and killing innocent people. And, Harry thought to himself, after everything Voldemort had done to Harry, his friends, and family, maybe he should be the one to do it anyway. Maybe.
X x X x X x X x X
Professor McGonagall actually made an appearance a couple of days later, although it did coincide with an Order meeting. With her, appeared three letters describing the subjects that their O.W.L. results allowed them to take and a quick word of explanation about one of them for Harry and Ron. Hermione had taken her sheet and disappeared upstairs to study it thoroughly without more than a couple of words.
"Professor Snape has been prevailed upon to extend his N.E.W.T. level class to include those who achieved Exceeds Expectations in either of their O.W.L. Potions results. However, he has reserved the right," McGonagall continued, at the incredulous faces of Harry and Ron, "to monitor each student's work closely, and if he feels that the student's work is not up to scratch, he will request their removal from his course. So Potter, Weasley, if the two of you truly wish to become Aurors, then you had better make sure you produce a high standard in his lessons."
"Sn- Professor Snape will let us continue with Potions?" Harry asked disbelievingly, Ron gaping by his side.
"He will. And Potter, what I said last term still stands, even if Dolores Umbridge has been removed from the school, so I would hope you make good use of this opportunity."
It wasn't exactly a threat, but Harry got the message. He didn't know how she did it, but he was willing to bet that this new found generosity of Snape's could be traced in some way or other back to Professor Minerva McGonagall. Unfortunately, this knowledge meant that Harry knew he had no choice but to continue with Potions. He had seriously been considering trusting Tonks' opinion that being the Boy-Who-Lived would make it easier to be an Auror than taking Potions N.E.W.T.s.
"And while I'm here," Professor McGonagall continued, "There is the matter of Quidditch to discuss. As I imagine you have guessed, with Inquisitor Umbridge's ridiculous Decrees revoked, your Quidditch ban is no longer in effect, Potter."
Harry grinned. He had pretty much assumed it alright, as had Ginny and Ron, but it was nice to actually hear one of Hogwarts' Professors actually say it.
"However, before you get carried away with by the news, I ought not to need to remind you of my complete and utter disgust at the way you conducted yourself in your last match, and if anything like that ever happens again, you may very well see it return. Understood?"
"Yes Ma'am." Harry acknowledged sheepishly.
"Very well. Now that that is over with, there is the matter of the Quidditch captaincy. You two and Katie Bell are the only remaining players from the original Gryffindor team last year. Miss Bell told me last year that she did not want the extra pressure of the captaincy to go with her N.E.W.T.s, which means that either you Potter, or you Weasley, are the most suitable candidates."
"Me!" Ron asked in disbelief. "But Harry's been in the team since first year, I've only been there a year."
"Yes, you, Mr Weasley. When it comes to Quidditch you have a far better disciplinary record than your friend, and discipline is necessary for a captain. Plus," And here she actually gave a small smile, "from all I have heard you can talk a very good game of Quidditch. Up to date on all the latest Quidditch news and tactics are you not?"
Ron blushed. "Harry –" he started.
"Ron –" Harry said at the same time.
"– should be Captain." They finished together.
"Does nobody want the honour of the captaincy of Gryffindor?" She asked, pursing her lips as though annoyed, although Harry fancied she was in actual fact amused.
"No, no," Ron said hastily, "I'd love to be Captain, it's not that. It's just, Harry's the most talented player in the school, he was the youngest player in centuries, and the only time he hasn't grabbed the Snitch is when he was attacked by Dementors. He was better than I am now the first time he rode a broom! If anyone deserves it it's him."
"Seekers are solo players," Harry replied quickly, "Keepers are more part of the team. I have to concentrate on the Snitch, while Ron has to watch everything that's going on. The only way I know what else is happening is usually through the commentary. Ron's great at tactics too, whether it's Quidditch or chess, he'd be way better than me from that point of view. I'd be a rubbish captain, Ron would be better for the team."
Of course, another, unsaid, thing was, Harry got quite enough limelight at school anyway, despite not being made a Prefect, and he didn't want to go asking for even more after everything that had happened last year.
McGonagall closed her eyes in mock frustration. "Whoever's Captain can always ask other people for help you realise. You don't have to do everything on your own."
"Okay," Harry said quickly, "I'll give Ron a hand."
"Is that okay Mr Weasley?"
"Er, well, yeah, sounds... sounds great!" Ron said in surprise.
"Excellent," she said crisply, "May I suggest that you organise tryouts for all positions, after last year, it might be worthwhile having a couple of reserves."
"Yes," Ron said thoughtfully, "it would be worthwhile looking for a couple of new Beaters too – I'm betting we can come up with better than Kirke or Sloper... Even if we can't, it'd keep them on their toes anyway. And I always thought Gryffindor's Chasers should've practiced the old Loganstock's Leap manoeuvre, the old moves are still often the best, and Slytherins in particular have always looked dodgy when covering Chasers that use the pitch vertically as well as forwards and sideways."
"I'm pleased to see that you are taking to your new role so quickly, Mr Weasley. If you'll excuse me, I have work to do." She half changed into her animagus form, and then reverted as if she had had second thoughts. "Please make sure you owl me your choices before this time next week. Professor Dumbledore seems positive about our chances of a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher before the weekend, so your booklists will be out soon after."
And with that, she transformed into a cat, and the cat vanished from view with a soft popping sound. Harry turned with a grin to Ron.
"So Captain, do I make the team?"
To his surprise, Ron was scowling slightly, and he said, slightly aggressively, Harry felt, "Why didn't you want to be Captain?"
"I told you," Harry replied in astonishment, "I'd be a rubbish captain, I don't know as much about pro-Quidditch as you, but how many of the top teams have a Seeker as a captain?"
"None." Ron replied, "But that's not the point, we're not playing as professionals, are we? Diggory was a Seeker, and he was a good Captain."
"Yes, but he didn't really talk on the pitch, not like Wood did." Harry said impatiently, "It was that Beater that left two years before last, Graveney, that did all the talking in the matches. He had to look for the Snitch, didn't he?"
"Yeah and you could've done the same." Ron said angrily.
"And look how well Hufflepuff do at Quidditch!" Harry replied, his own temper rising. "What's your problem? You're Captain aren't you? What's so bad about that?"
"It's because you think I'm useless don't you? I'm poor, and the stupidest of the family, and so you're taking pity on me. Tell McGonagall you don't want to be Captain and she'll give it to Ron, give him something to celebrate. We all know I'll never do as well as Bill or Percy in work, Charlie at pretty much everything, and the twins'll make more money in a year than I probably will in my life. Even Ginny would probably out duel me, and she's a year younger."
"What the h– What are you talking about?" Harry asked.
"Oh come on Harry, we both know you'd make a miles better Captain. You just think you ought to make me believe I'm better than you at something, because everyone knows I'm just your sidekick."
"What? Ron, you saw me try to keep against you and Tonks. So I'm a better Seeker than you... that's why we play in different positions! What's got you all worked up?"
"If I was any good at Quidditch I'd have been in the team before fifth year."
"Ron, Wood was CAPTAIN!" Harry yelled, "The Captain was playing in your position! That kind of makes it hard to get into the team!"
"So what?" Ron shouted back, "I wasn't good enough was I? I single-handedly lost the second match I ever played, and if it wasn't for you I would have cost us the first too. And it's not just Quidditch, you're better than me at everything, even the thing I got an Outstanding at, you went and got an Outstanding Recognition!"
"What? Come on mate! Our O.W.L. results were nearly identical! Okay, I beat you at Defence Against the Dark Arts, but you were way better in History of Magic, and you beat me in Divination too. How can I be miles better than you at everything?"
"Oh, come off it, look at everything you've done! And what have I done? Had loads of goals scored against me in Quidditch, and been knocked out a couple of times by people you went on to stop. Quidditch, Riddle and his diary, I was just used as part of a challenge for you in the Tri-Wizard, then there was the Brain, even Sirius stopped me being any use in third year didn't he?"
Harry, who had been firstly confused, and then annoyed by Ron's outburst, turned his back on him without even thinking. His insides had suddenly been replaced by iron piping. There was utter silence. Harry strode towards the door, but before he could reach it to open it, it sprang open, and Hermione was standing behind it.
"Why all the shouting?" She asked. "Harry, what's –"
Ron interrupted furiously. "Harry seems to think that I'm not good enough to do anything myself, and that I want his pity."
"Harry, what...?" Hermione asked walking in to the room.
Harry said nothing, but pushed past her, slamming the door behind him. He leant against the wall, trying to control his breathing, and regain some feeling in his stomach. Ron's voice came indistinctly from the room. Suddenly there was a burst of noise from the room behind him. Hermione had exploded at Ron.
"Did you even bother to think that maybe Harry is sick and tired of everyone staring and pointing at him? Maybe he doesn't want any of this attention! And who says he's going to have the time to do it anyway? What with Voldemort – YES VOLDEMORT – and the Prophecy –"
Harry regained control of his body, and practically ran as fast as he could away from the room. He could still hear Ron and Hermione yelling at each other sporadically as he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. ("And what if Harry meant what he said, and wasn't making excuses, Ron?" – "Yeah right Hermione, he's mad about Quidditch, why wouldn't he want to be Captain?")
An hour later, Hermione knocked softly on Harry's locked door. "Are you all right?" She whispered through the door.
Harry didn't answer, but she continued to talk from behind the barrier. "Harry, Ron's sorry, he didn't mean to bring up Sirius like that." Harry remained silent. "Look, I'll be in my room if you want to talk, Harry, okay? Ron's gone home."
Harry heard her walking away, and had no intention of going to see her anytime soon. He stared at the mirror in his hand, looking through it as if it wasn't even there. He didn't understand Ron's outburst, and had no intention of bothering to work it out at the moment. He was too busy asking himself why even the mention of Sirius got him worked up. He had to deal with it somehow, or else his parents' sacrifice that Voldemort had decided to show him would all be in vain. And yes, Sirius' sacrifice too. For Sirius' death had been caused because he had wanted to protect Harry.
Harry continued to lay there, his mind moving on to wondering if Hermione's books were right or not. Maybe it would help to talk with someone; after all, Dumbledore had claimed that the only reason he had had to immediately relive the fight with Voldemort in fourth year was because it would be harder the longer it went on if he didn't. But then he had talked about what had happened to some extent, to Hermione and Ron. He hadn't gone into great detail, but then, he didn't need to. And then there was the fact that every time he thought of Sirius, his mind froze, his chest constricted, and his legs turned to jelly.
If he did talk to someone – not saying he would do, he told himself, but if he did – who would he talk to? Not Hermione, she'd be too full of suggestions as to what he should do, and he didn't want to hear them. Not Ron, even if he hadn't just had a temper tantrum about something, Harry knew he'd just get tongue-tied and not know what to do or say either. So who? Tonks? Lupin? Harry liked talking to Tonks, but... he couldn't see him talking to her like that. Maybe Lupin then? But he was having difficulties talking about Sirius too, according to Ginny. Although having said that, she also seemed to think that he was the person who could help Lupin get to grips with Sirius' death, and he severely doubted that.
Then of course there was the fact that Lupin had continuously tried to talk to Harry about Sirius when Harry had first come to Grimmauld Place. Harry still wasn't sure why he had done that, but he guessed it meant that Remus was quite willing to discuss him. Ginny also claimed that Lupin looked like he had nothing to live for, and despite the talk they had had, the image of Lupin saying he was going to kill Voldemort meant Harry was inclined to think Ginny may have been right to some extent there.
There was another soft knock on the door. "Harry?" It was Lupin – he had obviously returned from whatever Order mission he had been on.
Harry sat up, but remained staring at the mirror in front of him, and only looked up when the door creaked open. Remus walked a pace or two into the room, closing the door behind him, then stopped, and stared at the mirror in Harry's hands.
"Sirius gave it to me last Christmas." Harry told him quietly, looking back at the mirror. "It was after I found out about Snape's Occlumency lessons. He told me to use it if Snape gave me a hard time. I never even opened the package, I thought he'd burst into Hogwarts or something and get arrested. When I had the vision... I didn't know what it was, I didn't realise I could contact him immediately... I didn't think of it..."
Lupin's weight caused the mattress to depress, and his voice came hoarsely from Harry's right.
"Is that James' mirror?" He asked.
Harry nodded. "Did you have one too?"
Remus gave a reminiscent smile. "No, not me. They often used them to set up pranks and things, often enough on me as well! When they made them, they wouldn't have known enough magic to make a three-way one anyway. And changing it later... would've been a pain to do. No... Sirius and James always had a special bond. I couldn't believe it when I discovered Sirius had betrayed him. I shouldn't have believed it." He said, shaking his head.
Harry suddenly noticed that despite their promises, they had both pretty much brought up things they felt guilty about in almost their very next private conversation. Remus seemed to have noticed it too, for he gave a sheepish smile.
"But nothing that can be done about that now, right?"
"No." Harry agreed. There was a short silence, before he continued spontaneously. "Moony? Did you ever feel a bit lonely because my dad and Sirius were such good friends, and they hung out together all the time?"
Remus looked surprised. "Why ever do you think that?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I just thought of it then. People are always telling me they were inseparable, and I just thought – I dunno – I just thought it must have got a bit annoying or something."
He shook his head. "Not really. After I got the bite I had to be kept away from other children. The fact that James and Sirius didn't care about it – it told me everything I really needed to know about their friendship. If they went off on their own, or talked to each other on their mirrors, then I knew they were just trying to pull a trick on someone. They knew it wasn't something I'd do, and I might even try to persuade them not to do it, so the fact they didn't include me in it didn't bother me."
"See, that sounds lonely." Harry said.
Remus laughed. "No, it wasn't. Just knowing I had people as friends – real friends – that was enough for someone like me. Werewolves have solitary lives you know, I'm one of the lucky ones that have friends willing to look past – past my little problem, as James used to say." He gave a genuine grin.
"What were they like in school?" Harry asked him. "I mean, I kept hearing all this really nice stuff about them from people, and then I saw that memory of Snape's. What were they really like, the bad stuff as well as the good? There's so much I wanted to find out about Sirius as well as my parents. I mean... I feel like... I feel like I know him –" his throat constricted, "like I knew him – really well, and yet like I didn't know him at all."
Remus looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "If you like, I could ask Dumbledore for his Pensieve again, and show you some of my memories – of our time together. I can promise you that not many of them are like Snape's."
"But some are?" Harry asked, almost rhetorically.
"Yes. Some are." Lupin said grimly. "Otherwise... Otherwise ... Maybe ..." he continued slowly, "Do you have our map?"
"The Marauder's Map?" Harry asked incredulously, "Of course I do!"
"Can I see it please?" Remus said evenly, but Harry thought he was struggling to contain a grin.
Harry sprung off the bed and rummaged around in his trunk for a while, finally producing a piece of worn, battered, old parchment. He handed it to Remus Lupin expectantly. Remus took out his wand, tapped the paper, and spoke in a clear voice.
"Padfoot, Prongs, are you here?"
The map did nothing. It stayed just as blank as ever. Harry looked at his companion inquiringly. "Moony, what?"
But Lupin was grinning now, and held up a finger. "I'm sure there's a way..." He muttered, more to himself than anything.
He tapped the map again. "Prongs, it's Moony here."
Again, nothing happened, until gradually, almost reluctantly, writing appeared on the blank piece of paper, and Harry looked at his companion in utter astonishment; he was looking rather pleased with himself.
Prongs, proud founding member of Hogwarts' magnificent Marauders, is around.
By the time Harry had looked back, another sentence was written below, in a style of handwriting that called to memory letters that he had looked forward to desperately, in the last couple of years. It was not as strong, and was untidier than the script that had adorned those letters, but there was a certain similarity.
Padfoot, noble protector of all that is true and just, waits at attention.
Remus laughed heartily and looked at the parchment in a fondly reminiscent way. "I'd almost forgotten that when we made this they were going through a bit of a preening phase." He tapped the parchment again, "Right you two, like I said, this is Moony, I've got someone here I'd like you to meet. His name is Harry."
Moony? Wrote Padfoot's hand. I knew we ought to have included voice recognition in the charms, Prongs. How can we be sure?
It would have taken too long, especially to allow for changes by age and everything. I told Wormtail that when he asked for it. You backed me up if I remember correctly too. Now if we only could have had Evans working on it with us, it would have been a cinch! Was the response from Harry's father.
Give it a rest about Evans Prongs, women only distract you, they're good for nothing else.
Oh yeah? Who's your latest at the moment then? Bryony Featherstone? Leigh Wallis? Patricia Stibbons?
Harry lifted his eyes to Remus' again, who rolled his eyes. "Sorry about this. To be fair, we were about fifteen when we made the map."
"Is this... Is this really? How... how did you do it? How do you talk with..." Harry stammered.
"Didn't you know? We had to find a way to test people as to whether they were worthy to use our map, as James put it." Remus replied, "So we each left an imprint of ourselves, so we could quiz any finders, or just insult them if someone like, er, Severus was to find it, as I seem to remember happened while I was teaching at Hogwarts. I must admit I had imagined that you had talked to us to pass our test as it were, and just hadn't worked out you might be able to talk normally as well – I wasn't sure myself. Although come to think about it, I would never have imagined you would have rooted through Argus Filch's drawers looking for it."
Harry grinned. "It was Fred and George, they gave it to me as a present."
"To get past the Dementors." Remus supplied with a twitch of the mouth. "Yes, I can see James and Sirius taking to the Weasley twins straight off, I know I would. Wormtail of course, would just have gone along with whatever our imprints wanted." He said with distaste, before adding. "I think the fact they had nicked the map out of Filch's office would have just given them added brownie points. "
Padfoot and Prongs had finished their little discussion as to women on the Marauder's map by now, and a third version of handwriting had joined the discussion. It was Remus Lupin's own, and seemed just as neat, just as tidy, as the version of the older Moony that was sitting beside Harry right now.
Very well, if you are me, there is an easy way to check. Why am I known as Moony?
That's EASY! Complained Padfoot.
Remus tapped the paper with his wand again. "I am a werewolf, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail called me Moony once they discovered my affliction and became animagi to keep me company at the full moon.
Who gave me the bite?
"Fenrir Greyback."
What is my second least favourite vegetable?
He laughed. "I'm quite impressed with my fifteen year old self, Harry!" He tapped his wand yet again. "Spinach, behind leeks."
"This... this reminds me of Riddle's diary." Harry said, apprehension suddenly welling in him.
"No need to worry, it's nothing like that." Lupin said jovially. "That sounded like it was deeply in the Dark Arts, and none of us, least of all James, would have touched something like that with a bargepole. This is simply an imprint of the kind of people we were, almost like a painting really. Imprints can't grow from their experiences – no matter what, the Marauders in this map will always act like we would have acted at that time in our lives. But to make something that can actually grow... To give it a soul... That is almost the stuff of myths. Look, try talking to them, you won't know the true Sirius and James obviously, but you will know that no matter what they did as teenagers, they were both in essence still good people."
Okay, wrote both Padfoot and Prongs in synchrony, who is this Harry?
Harry tapped the paper with his wand – he could imagine this could get a bit annoying after awhile. "Er... Hi. I'm Harry."
Are you the person that has been using our map? Prongs asked.
"Yeah, I have. How'd you know?"
Moony would never have been after curfew as often as you have, and I can't see him teaching!
Remus smiled at Harry, who grinned back.
"Professor Lupin was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher I've ever had."
Glad to see you're doing something useful with your time , Moony , nowadays. Came the untidy scrawl of Padfoot.
Thanks, guess that means I got through my O.W.L.s alright then. Came the map's Moony's own reply.
Harry got the feeling that if he had just opened up the map at the right time before now, he might have seen the Marauders having a conversation. It was bizarre, and he had a similarly confusing set of emotions running through his head as well. He wasn't sure what to think, whether he was nervous, excited, worried, delighted, scared, trusting, or a hundred other sets of feelings. The thought of stopping the conversations, however, never entered his head.
Moony, a teacher? Honestly? But you said was, came Prongs' writing, if he was a great teacher, why isn't he still teaching now?
"Snape told the Slytherins he was a werewolf. He had to resign."
Those damned prejudiced c- and Prongs' went into a colourful rant against Purebloods and wizards in general that cared more about blood and people's family trees, than the kind of person they were. Harry grinned in pride.
How could that greasy haired Snivellus ever become a teacher? Padfoot asked in disgust.
Steer clear of him Harry, Prongs advised, he's trouble – he seems to spend all his days making up new curses to cast at people.
So do you. Moony reminded him.
Yeah, but that's only for a laugh! I don't actually hurt people with them, just teach them a lesson. And I don't spend all my time brewing poisons, and yet can't be bothered to even brew a potion to fix my oily hair.
So because you spend more time looking after your hair than he does, it's okay? Padfoot wrote, and Harry could sense the easy way they had together, and imagined many days of friendly jibes and laughter.
You're one to talk! Up before everyone else, and still down last! How many different types of conditioner do you use every morning?
Lupin tapped the map again. "I just thought I'd introduce you, believe me, Harry is worth talking to, I'll let you folks catch up on old times later when I'm gone.
What do you mean old times! OI! Moony! What do you mean about 'old times'? Padfoot scribbled.
"Fin." Lupin said, and then glanced at Harry to explain, as the writing faded. "James loved Muggle movies. I think it may have been because your mother was Muggleborn, and he wanted common ground to start a conversation, but I'm not sure. He used to drag us along in the summer, and at the end the word FIN always came up, so when we made the map... But anyway, I'll try to borrow Dumbledore's Pensieve again, and then you can see a bit more for yourself."
They didn't talk for that much longer, but when they did finish, Harry felt rather pleased with himself. Not only did he have a way of talking to his father and Sirius, even if they were only faint imprints, but Remus had actually looked far happier, even to his own eyes, which seemed to see far less than Ginny's. Dinner that night was just Hermione, Harry, Lupin, and Tonks. Ginny was at Dean Thomas' house, and Ron and the rest of the Weasleys spent the night in the Burrow.
X x X x X x X x X
When Harry and Ron next met, Ron gave a grunt of apology, but no explanation for his behaviour. Harry didn't bother trying to find out the reasons why. He had learnt to grow used to Ron's touchiness when it came to things like his family's situation as regards money, and knew not to read too much into it. He wasn't sure why exactly Gryffindor Quidditch captaincy should trigger it, but wasn't going to let it rankle. The two of them put their heads together to decide upon the subjects they would be taking for N.E.W.T.s, although neither of them had much difficulty in selecting Defence and Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions, to add up to the required five. Harry and Ron had long since decided to drop Divination and History of Magic, but to Harry's huge surprise, Ron was trying to convince him to take one of the others as an extra subject.
"I mean it's like Tonks said, isn't it?"
"What is?" Harry asked.
"Well, she was saying that she figured the more she learnt the better when it came to wanting to be an Auror. I mean, alright, Astronomy mightn't be that useful, but what about something like Herbology? Be useful to be aware of what plants do what in the field, wouldn't it?"
"What about Care of Magical Creatures?" Harry asked.
The thought had suddenly occurred to him that Hagrid would probably be counting on his three favourite students doing his subject, especially after their exam results. Hermione had already decided upon her selections, and Harry knew that Hagrid's subject wasn't part of them.
"I'm not looking after Grawp." Ron said flatly, and then held up his hands at Harry's glare. "Come on!" He protested. "These are our N.E.W.T.s we're talking about, I mean I don't want to hurt his feelings or anything, but we need good grades if we're going to be Aurors, don't we? We can't afford to take it just to make Hagrid feel good."
"Be more useful to take Care of Magical Creatures, wouldn't it?" Harry joked, "We might get good duelling experience!"
"Ha. Ha." Ron said sarcastically.
The two of them were still arguing about the matter, when Hermione came down. To Harry's complete annoyance, she agreed with Ron about the extra subject. In fact, her expression of initial surprise quickly turned into a beam, and she immediately set about trying to convince Harry. Ron looked rather chuffed with himself.
"Look, we found it hard enough last year studying for our O.W.L.s," Harry told them, "it makes more sense to make sure we have enough time to do the important subjects."
"But you never know how the exams will go." Hermione told him earnestly. "It could be a really tough exam, or your brain might freeze, and having another subject to fall back on could make the difference. Plus it shows the Auror Studies Acceptance Board or anywhere else you apply for a job that you are willing to work hard to get where you want to go, it creates a good impression."
"Or it could mean I get average grades in everything, instead of five good ones." Harry said grumpily.
"As long as you make a good revision timetable and follow it, you'll do fine." Hermione told him, and then rolled her eyes. "Oh alright, as long as you follow the timetable I'll give you you'll do fine."
"Remember this conversation when I can't keep up with the homework and ask you for yours." Harry said darkly.
"You'll do that even if you are keeping up with it." Said Hermione, hiding a smile. "Oh come on Harry, look at it this way, you can always drop the subject halfway through the year, but can't take up another one. And what if you decide you want to drop Potions?"
It was perhaps this last sentence more than any other that eventually persuaded Harry to take the extra subject. He wasn't just worried about wanting to drop Potions, but he also remembered McGonagall telling him Snape had the right to throw students out of his class. He wasn't planning any more visits to Snape's memories via the Pensieve, but nevertheless...
"Fine, fine, I'll do it." Harry told them finally, in an irritated manner. "I suppose you'd say to do Herbology too instead of Care of Magical Creatures?"
"Well," Hermione began, "Neither of you did well enough in Divination, and you didn't do well enough in History of Magic Harry, although I think Ron should consider taking it on further –"
"Not a chance." Ron said firmly.
"Those who ignore the mistakes of history are doomed to repeat them." Hermione told them, and with an air of impatience continued. "It's a Muggle quote Ron. History is a very important subject you know."
"Yeah, yeah. And how is it meant to help me be an Auror?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "Fine. I'd suggest Astronomy then, it gives a lot of background information on the other subjects, especially Potions – it helps you learn the properties of the different ingredients in the different seasons. But it would also help with a subject like Charms."
"Why so?" Harry asked her.
"Didn't you know?" Hermione asked in her usual tone of voice which suggested that everyone should read the same things she did. "The more complicated a charm is, the more the alignment of the planets comes into it. You can still perform the charm without allowing for it, but it won't be as strong."
"It's all theory, isn't it?" Harry asked her shrewdly.
"Well, there is a lot of theory in it, yes." Hermione admitted, and then quickly added. "But that doesn't have to be a bad thing."
"I don't know if you noticed or not, Hermione," Ron told her, "But both Harry and I did better in our practical O.W.L.s than our written. Makes sense to do a practical kind of subject, doesn't it?"
Hermione's beam faded slightly. "Well that just leaves Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures then."
"Yes." Ron confirmed, unnecessarily.
"Out of the two of them, I'd take Herbology."
"Why not Care of Magical Creatures?" Harry demanded.
"Because, well, and I'm not saying Hagrid is a bad teacher Harry – his lessons last year were loads better – but, Professor Sprout has been getting people through their N.E.W.T.s for years now, and although Hagrid will show some really interesting animals, the things Professor Sprout teaches will be more useful really."
Seeing Harry was still not persuaded, she continued. "Care of Magical Creatures is a stand alone subject – it doesn't tie in with any of the other subjects – whereas Herbology is really useful for Potions. Hagrid will understand, he wants us all to do really well in life, and if that means we drop his subject, he won't mind. You have to choose the subject that's right for you, not other people."
Harry looked at her sceptically. "Well you can tell him that the three students that offered to do everything he needed a volunteer for won't be keeping on his subject then."
X x X x X x X x X
Harry had been looking forward to a chance to leave Grimmauld Place, and get some fresh air in Diagon Alley, but his hopes that he may be allowed out one afternoon to get his school books were soon dashed. True, he had to go to Madam Malkin's for new robes, seeing as he had had a growth spurt, but nothing else he needed actually required his presence at purchase, and Malkin's, like many stores, were now offering a floo-in floo-out service.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all flooed into the robes' shop, waited in the pitch black for the security grate to open, and then were quickly fitted with Hagrid waiting outside the door as a rather obvious bodyguard, and probably some less obvious ones around the place too. Remus and Mrs Weasley dealt with the mundane things like books and potions ingredients that Harry would have liked to do. Not to mention getting a look at Fred and George's shop.
The days were flying by thick and fast now, as the countdown towards the return to school continued, and Harry couldn't wait until he could go, and leave the house that was his prison. He had successfully persuaded Hermione to spend her last few weeks with her parents – she hadn't necessarily wanted to leave, but Harry played a couple of his trump cards. Firstly, quite truthfully, that he had never known his parents, and that he didn't want to be a reason that stopped Hermione seeing hers, and secondly that if she was going to insist on helping him even though she knew the Prophecy, then she should also know that it's going to be really dangerous with Voldemort about, for both her and her parents. It worked, and she, Ginny, Ron, and Harry all agreed to see each other in London. Ginny was spending more and more time with Dean, and even Ron was exercising his ability to have different scenery a little more often.
But Harry remained stuck inside Grimmauld Place, cooped up and irritable, and not entirely sure why. It wasn't just the fact that he was stuck in Sirius' old house, there was something else, although it certainly wasn't his friends, they were dealing with Harry's irritability remarkably well, and he couldn't blame them for wanting fresh air, especially after he had been the one to persuade Hermione to go. Nor was it the fact that Sirius' inquiry had not occurred yet, and there was no fixed date as to when it might take place, for the reason for that was that Fudge had finally been forced out of the Ministry, and candidates for the new Minister were frantically distributing manifestos, making promises, and generally spreading propaganda about how they were going to defeat You-Know-Who (even if they couldn't say his name for terror).
While Harry knew members of the Order were disappointed that neither Dumbledore nor Madam Bones had thrown their hats into the ring, Harry was unaffected by their fears – he was just glad to see the back of Fudge. Besides, if Kingsley or Tonks were to be believed, then the current Head of the Auror Department, Rufus Scrimgeour would be a decent enough Minister – he was one of the many people whose owls had delivered election literature. No, it was not this that was causing Harry's irritation.
Harry didn't think it was the talks with Lupin that caused his moodiness either, despite them being about both Sirius in general, and the things he and his father had done in Hogwarts. In fact, the fact that they had had more since their first two, and that they were getting more frequent, wasn't quite the grievance he might have thought it would have been. He enjoyed the talks with the Marauders Map as well, even if he hadn't thus far divulged much information about himself (however he sensed that the imprints of the Marauders were only still talking to him because of Remus' introduction, and they would stop if he didn't become more interesting). Nor was he being plagued by visions from Voldemort anymore – the exercises he practiced before sleeping seemed to be working, and he even thought he could feel Voldemort trying to enter his mind, and repel it while sleeping once, although that may just have been in his dream, for it was a very strange one, which had included centaurs, one of the Ministry's Courtrooms, a skunk, and Neville Longbottom's grandmother's hat.
No, if Harry had to blame something for his tenterhooks, it would have to be one of two things. The first, was that very rarely would he go to bed and not dream of Sirius in some form or other, most often in the Department of Mysteries, and was invariably haunted by it for most of the night. The second was that try as he might, he still could not think of a suitable place to store his memories. It was such an open ended question, that Harry found it impossible to answer.
"It usually takes witches or wizards months to discover the most suitable memory to base it upon." Dumbledore told him patiently. "I myself am aware of wizards that took years before they settled upon their final choice. I have even changed mine once, although the work involved in relocating memories, removing the rules governing the old one, and then creating the new one from scratch would make me think thrice before doing it again, and I would certainly not recommend it to other people."
"I just – I don't know how I'll know if it is right or not." Harry burst out angrily, Dumbledore looked supremely unconcerned. "Can't you give me some kind of hint as to what I should be looking for?"
"I can not Harry, for as I have already said, what may suit me, may not be ideal for you. I might suggest a memory of a cool, still summer's evening beside a tranquil lake, when you might best be served by a packed discotheque in a busy town." Harry looked at him almost mutinously, and Dumbledore continued. "I will, if you wish, show you the memory I have chosen, and explain a little about it, but I warn you that it is unlikely to provide much help for you, as the characters of an old man and a young person are so dissimilar."
"Could you?" Harry asked, almost in desperation.
"Very well." Dumbledore said, almost as if he had been expecting this to happen. "Seeing as you are not a Legilimens yourself, you had better use your wand to repel my curse back towards me. Wand at the ready now."
Harry quickly removed his wand from his back pocket, and nodded.
"Legilimens."
"Protego!" Harry shouted.
Rather than, as previously, seeing a brief flash of light, and then looking straight into Dumbledore's eyes in the middle of the small parlour, the first thing Harry knew was the scent of salt and the cold of a stormy night. He looked around – he was standing on a pier beside Dumbledore. Waves were crashing against the shore behind them, and battered the wooden struts beneath them. He was dressed in his same clothes, although his wand was nowhere to be seen.
The pounding of the rain battered Harry's head, and he was soon drenched to the bone. A foghorn sounded in the distance over the water, and behind him it was joined by the lowing of an unfortunate animal which had no shelter to hide from the elements. Behind them, on the shore, Harry could see fearful faces peering out of streaky windows, and shutters being hastily closed in the buildings above locked shops designated by their owners' names. It looked to Harry like one of those small seaside resorts that Uncle Vernon was especially critical of (he was mainly critical of the lack of things to do).
Harry had read about seaside towns like this in his primary school English textbooks, but then they had been sunny and bright, filled with small boats and the occasional person swimming. He looked at Dumbledore, wondering exactly why he might have chosen such a gloomy place to store his memories in. To his astonishment, Dumbledore was looking around at the scene himself rather sadly.
"I think Harry, that there is little more to be gained by getting wet. Let us return to Grimmauld Place." Dumbledore had to shout over the wind, rain, and waves.
Harry felt something grip him from behind, and tug. He flew backwards at a tremendous speed until everything became a blur of colours. He screwed his eyes up against the brilliant light, and tried to dig his heels into the air he was flying through, in a desperate attempt to slow himself down. When he opened his eyes again, he was once more holding his wand, but was no longer pointing it at Dumbledore, who had sat down comfortably in a chair. Harry's clothes were bone dry.
"Sit down, Harry." Dumbledore offered.
Harry did so. "Sir, why...?"
"That is a memory of the first time Grindelwald and I confronted each other." He replied, answering the unfinished question.
"What happened?"
"Ah how quickly the present turns into long forgotten history. I was unable to thwart Grindelwald on that particular occasion. He was either too well prepared for me, or else I was too confident in my own abilities. That village behind us, and the pier upon which we just stood, was destroyed in a freak tidal wave, caused by the tremendous storm we just braved, or so the Muggles believe."
"Then why...?"
"Why have I chosen it as a final fort to defend my memories from intruders from?" Dumbledore finished. "I will not tell you, but leave you to make your own conclusions. That would be most helpful for you."
But try as he might, Harry couldn't come up with many reasons as to why Dumbledore might choose it. He couldn't see how it would be easier to defend against enemies, unless they didn't like rain. He couldn't see how Dumbledore could ever find himself at ease in such a scene, and Harry himself had always found he did his best magic when he was confident. And he certainly didn't understand why Dumbledore would plague himself by having to continuously revisit a scene which he obviously looked upon with regret. In fact, the only reason Harry could think of, was that maybe Dumbledore wanted to make up for not being able to save the place the first time. But he was unable to think of anything else.
"You must not become dispirited," Dumbledore told him, "Unless I am very much mistaken, your current knowledge of defensive techniques will more than suffice in keeping Tom Riddle out of your mind while at long distances, and while you are not yet prepared to face his Legilimency skills in a face to face encounter, that will come with time."
"But we don't have much time, do we?" Harry said desperately. "I'm going back to Hogwarts next week, and I'll have lessons, and homework, and..." Harry paused, not wanting to sound as if his having fun was more important than trying to defeat Lord Voldemort.
"And Quidditch, among other things, which is very important too." Dumbledore finished with a wink. "After all, what could be better from the point of view of honing your reflexes? You are quite right Harry, time will be far scarcer upon your return to school, but this may prove to be a blessing in disguise. While the more technical aspects of Occlumency, which were certainly most important upon your removal from Privet Drive, may have benefited from the rigorous studies we have engaged upon so assiduously, the more creative tendencies of the subject have perhaps suffered."
Seeing the look on Harry's face, Dumbledore explained further, "A subject as complex as Occlumency requires different things to other, more rudimentary forms of magic. For example, time is just as necessary for the brain to get to grips with certain ideas, and almost certainly more so, as tutoring. It is my hope that you shall find that the enforced reduction of time spent on Occlumency in fact helps you to manage aspects of the subject that you have struggled with thus far."
Harry, however, found this difficult to believe. How could you learn more from studying something less? Nevertheless, he resolved to work as hard as he could at Occlumency, and, to somehow, complete the impossible task of picking the right memory. Even if that meant he had to work at not working as hard, or... Harry sighed. How exactly was he going to accomplish that?
X x X x X x X x X
The return to Hogwarts was at hand, and the advanced security that Harry and Grimmauld Place were undergoing meant that Harry had as circuitous a route as any to even reach Kings Cross Station. He stepped through the fireplace at Grimmauld Place, complete with trunk, Hedwig's empty cage (the owl had wished to make her own way to Hogwarts), and bodyguards - Remus and Tonks. When he emerged in Mrs Figg's house in Little Whinging, he then had to stand around awkwardly for twenty minutes, listening to the three adults making small talk, waiting for an Order member who was strategically placed in the Floo Regulation Panel's office, and a message from the Burrow, to let them know that the coast was all clear.
When Harry finally appeared in the Burrow, he barely got to say a word to the Weasleys before being hurried into a Ministry car which carried the students and bodyguards, and which furthermore was also being escorted by Ministry Aurors (which included Auror Dreyfus McCarthy, who offered a smile, and a friendly nod). The return trip to London, although far longer than the outward journey, was so uneventful in the extreme, that Harry gave Remus a frustrated glance.
"I know all this security feels unnecessary to you Harry," Remus said in a voice that couldn't carry to any Ministry representatives, "but the Ministry, such as it is at the moment, had to be seen to be protecting you, and it is still far safer both for you and the Order to do it this way."
"I'd have thought it was far more obvious that we were here with all these people around us." Harry said grumpily.
"Maybe so, but it makes sure Grimmauld Place stays secret, and remains a safe house."
Harry made no reply.
When they left the Ministry cars outside the station, and made their way inside, Harry actually found himself looking around for Obliviators following behind them to start wiping the memory of the Muggles that stood gawking at the group hurrying through the station, and when they found themselves at the wall which separated the Wizarding train from the Muggle ones, he couldn't see how they could get through it without being seen. The Auror closest to him however seemed to have no worries of the kind, he grabbed Harry's arm and practically pulled him through to the other side. Harry angrily pushed himself away from the man, and watched Ginny and Ron do similarly as he turned around.
"Was that really necessary?" Ron asked the other two, annoyed.
"No." Harry told him firmly.
Ginny, however, was looking around her, "There's Dean! I'll probably see you later." And with that she left them, and made her way into the crowd.
Harry followed her with his eyes, and found a horrible feeling creep in to his body at the sight that was in front of him. No more was the bustling platform complete with happy voices searching out long unseen friends who greeted each other with hugs and handshakes, eagerly answering questions about the holiday, and eulogising about the Harpies - Puddlemere Quidditch game they saw, or retelling stories of far off continents complete with strange people and animals. Nor were there the mothers, managing to get some last minute scolding in before they lost the chance to for a quarter of a year, or younger siblings, who were insistent upon the gaining of promises of presents, stories, and letters from their older, Hogwarts-going brothers and sisters. No longer was the sound of laughter heard on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
In its place was a stage filled with weeping mothers and fathers, tearfully bidding their children goodbye, and making would-be confident promises about seeing them at Christmas, as well as desperate hugs around the necks of parents from students that didn't want to leave, but knew that they must. The students that were desperately searching out friends were now doing so with a fearful look in their eyes, and stricken sobs signalled the discovery that a dearly liked student would not be returning to Hogwarts this year. Indeed, the only sounds of joy to be heard, were the sounds of relief upon the safe reunion of friendships.
Harry looked away from the scene with a lump in his throat. Ron, grim, but unsurprised by the sight, followed his gaze to the side of the station. There stood Neville Longbottom, with an arm on his shoulder belonging to his grandmother, who looked more proud than Harry had seen her, and the two of them were joined by a smiling Hermione, who had spotted them as they came in.
"Coming, Harry?" Ron asked, as he made to join them.
"What? Oh, y- yeah." Harry said, still shaken, and forced his body into motion.
"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, I am delighted to see you again." Came the voice of Neville's grandmother clearly through the air as they approached. "Neville was just showing Miss Granger his new wand." And sure enough, a wand was being proudly displayed in Neville's hand. "Such a shame about Frank's - But he and Alice would be very proud of Neville, very proud indeed, as indeed, I am sure your parents would have been Mr Potter, and yours must be Mr Weasley."
Neville went slightly red, but looked happier, and more confident, than Harry had ever seen him in his grandmother's company. Harry had always felt that she must be very hard on her grandson, and never appreciated him or his talents for what they were, but rather compared them to his parents. He remembered vividly when Neville had admitted to his fear of Professor Snape before he faced the Boggart in third year, and then had misunderstood Professor Lupin, and been scared it might turn into his grandmother. Now however, there was obviously a definite change.
"Good morning Mrs Longbottom!" Remus' voice came from behind them.
"Mr Lupin! Oh, and Molly, and this must be one of your eldest?"
"This is Charlie, Augusta, my second…"
Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione edged away from their guardians, dragging their trunks behind them.
"Gran's been amazing since that thing at the Ministry. You should hear her - any chance she gets she starts telling people how I fought the Death Eaters alongside Harry Potter, and how we managed to fend them off until help arrived. I thought she'd be furious about Dad's wand, but she hardly mentioned it, we went straight out and bought another, and she told Mr Ollivander and the first year and her parents in the shop why I needed one. She's never…" Neville trailed off, deciding not to finish whatever he'd been about to say.
"Wish my parents have." Ron said moodily, kicking at the ground. "Well, Dad's been okay, he always is, but Mum! You should have heard her! She was giving out about everything - about breaking into Umbridge's office, breaking free of her goons, going to the Department of Mysteries, not stopping Ginny from going, not stopping Harry from going, riding Thestrals, getting attacked by Death Eaters, getting attacked by a mutant Brain, Ginny breaking her leg… Supposedly I should have been able to stop all that because I'm a Prefect." Ron pulled a face. "You know she never gave out to Ginny at all? Everything was all my fault!"
"I'm sure she did, Ron, you just probably didn't hear her." Hermione said soothingly.
"Yeah right, have you tried not hearing Mum yell at people at home before?" Ron replied, causing a grin from Harry.
"She probably did it when you were out of the house, and anyway, she must just have been really worried about you."
Ron looked at her as if to say: 'Yeah right!' again, but said nothing.
"It'll be good to be back in Hogwarts," Neville told them., "I mean, with Dumbledore there, it's got to be the safest place to be, and we'll be learning things to help fight You-Know-Who with. Oh yeah… Harry, when's the first DA meeting going to be?"
Ron and Hermione smirked at each other. Harry however, hastily said, "I dunno if we'll keep doing it or not, I mean, there's no need, is there? Umbridge won't be there this year."
Neville looked horrified, "You don't mean it? I couldn't have done anything without the things you taught us! I even got Exceeds Expectations in my O.W.L. results. And Harry," He continued, lowering his voice, "it kept us all alive at the Department of Mysteries."
"Well, I'll see," Harry said, his insides squirming, and quickly changed the subject, "look, shall we get ourselves a carriage, before they're all gone, and then come back and say goodbye to everyone?"
"Oh! Good idea, Harry," Hermione said, "that way we can get everything stowed away before Ron and I have to go to the Prefect's Carriage."
"Oh yeah." Ron said, making a face, "I forgot we had to do that again, sorry Harry."
"What for?" Harry asked, "Look, come on, let's go."
And with that, he led the way.
A/N: At least one person has taken issue with Harry not wanting the Gryffindor Quidditch Captaincy, saying that what a captain needs is leadership, which Harry has plenty of…
I'm not going to bore you with exactly why I made my decision for Ron to be captain, unless you really strongly disagree and want to tell me why you think I'm wrong… I do have what I feel are pretty good reasons, both from Harry's point of view and from sport in general, and I do actually consider myself to know something about sport! I have been manager, captain, and vice-captain in successful teams at reasonable levels… so I ought to know what you need in order to be a captain – maybe I don't – but I should do if I don't. Er. If you see what I mean.
One of the not sporting reasons is that I know Harry won't have time to do it! :P