THE LETTER

A/N: As part of my ongoing effort to keep this story true to JKR's vision, I've incorporated some of the information from the interview at Carnegie Hall (No, not the stuff about Dumbledore. I'm not about to open THAT can of worms!). This chapter contains another dose of fluff and some additional clues, though a few plot details have come as a surprise, even to me (I'm not sure whose spirit I'm channeling with this story, but frankly, it's starting to creep me out!). By the time you finish reading this, some of you may believe you've figured everything out, but don't be too sure . . . there's more to come! Happy reading and please remember to leave a review at the end.

Chapter Ten

Ginny gave a little squeak of alarm when she opened the front door to reveal an old man with a hooked nose and long, grizzled hair.

"Ginny, it's me," said a familiar voice.

"Teddy!" Ginny sighed with relief and stepped aside so he could enter. "Thank goodness! I thought for a minute the protective spells had been breached."

"Sorry," said Ted, as the door closed behind him and he slowly morphed back into himself. His hair went from gray to deep purple, and when he removed the long, dark traveling cloak, Ginny noted the fact that he was wearing Muggle clothing. "Is he in?"

"In the study," said Ginny. "Go on back. He's expecting you."

Harry looked up when Ted came in. He was unshaven and his eyes were shadowed in the dim light of the heavily shaded room. Ted could see the lamplight reflected in his glasses. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days.

"Lock the door, will you, Ted?" said Harry.

Ted pointed his wand at the door and said "Colloportus," then added automatically, "Muffliato."

"Well?" Harry said.

"Nobody seems to suspect anything," Ted replied. "Or if they do, they're doing a great job of dissembling. As long as it stays out of the Muggle newspapers. . ."

"Obliviators have modified the memories of all the Muggles that had any part in recovering the body," said Harry, taking off his glasses to rub his bloodshot eyes. "But this certainly puts a new wrinkle on things. If we don't get to McLaggen soon, we might be out of luck."

"Wilkinson has joined Cadwallader and Detweiller in standing watch," said Ted. "None of them has noticed anyone coming or going, though I suppose there's always the Floo Network. . ."

Harry shook his head. "That's being monitored. We'd know if anyone was getting in or out that way. Unfortunately, it looks as though Attor was killed shortly before we started keeping an eye on things, so it's not necessarily significant that there's been no sign of recent movement."

"You don't think it was McLaggen then?" Ted asked. "He couldn't have been acting alone?"

"No," said Harry. "If I'm certain of anything, it's that. As for the other, it's the only explanation that makes sense. McLaggen was questioned using Veritaserum, or at least what we thought was Veritaserum. There are a number of other factors as well and they all lead to pretty much one conclusion."

"Attor was their supplier," said Ted. "Why kill the Golden Goose?"

"As to that, I can only guess," Harry said. "But I think what they were after was the formulas. Somehow they convinced Attor to turn them over and then killed him once they had what they needed. He must have become a liability. The difficulty is that these potions are very dangerous and highly volatile. A single wrong move could be fatal in the mixing process, so only someone with excellent potion making skills could work with them. I'm going to speak to someone later today who might be able to shed a little light on that aspect of things."

"What about the kids?" said Ted. "You really believe the threat was just a diversionary tactic?"

"I can't be certain," said Harry. "But I have a feeling the whole idea was to distract me. I was getting a little too close to the truth, I expect, but once I'd had a chance to piece together a few clues, it all seemed just a little too neat: the note left in the cell, McLaggen boasting to fellow inmates . . . McLaggen is thick, but even he's not that stupid. They must have believed I'd focus on the threat and fly into a panic if I thought my family was in danger. Well, it nearly worked. I did panic at first, but as soon as I realized who was behind it all, everything clicked into place. The threat was a diversion. McLaggen's escape was a diversion. They hoped I'd waste all my energy chasing the man I believed was after my children and allow them time to cover their tracks. Fortunately for me – and unfortunately for them – I worked it out in the end."

"What's stopping you from arresting the other party now?" asked Ted. "Before the plan can be carried out?"

"We don't have enough evidence," Harry replied. "That's why McLaggen is the key. He can provide the evidence we need for a conviction, and if my hunch is correct, we may not even need to use Veritaserum this time. He must be in a right old panic himself by now, or will be once it penetrates that thick skull what a tool he's been."

"Are you sure he's still alive? If Attor was a liability, then McLaggen. . ."

"McLaggen is a necessary evil," Harry insisted. "At least until the operation has been moved out of the country. Once that happens, though, McLaggen is as good as dead. That's why it's so important to find him now, before it's too late."

Ted's brow furrowed. "Why, though? I wouldn't have thought someone like that would resort to murder."

A faint smile creased Harry's tired face. "When you've been an Auror as long as I have, Ted, you'll find that men are capable of almost anything. In my experience, there are two things that bring out the worst in people: greed and power, and when those two are combined, it's a worse mixture than any potion ever devised by wizards."

"So that's what this all about?" said Ted. "A little gold?"

"More than a little, I'm afraid. They've raked in a fortune and that kind of wealth tends to take on a life of its own." Harry glanced at his watch. "Can you stay for breakfast, Ted? There's plenty of time before you're due at your. . . er. . . 'other' job."

"That'd be great!" said Ted, bounding up as if he'd enjoyed an evening of restful slumber even though, like Harry, he'd been up most of the night.

Harry could not help envying Ted's youth, for he personally felt as though he'd been dragged through a hedge backward, and there was a long way to go before he could seek his pillow again. He had spent most of the night talking with Kingsley Shacklebolt and other prominent Ministry officials and followed this up with a pre-dawn visit to Hermione. She and Ron, both in their dressing gowns, had listened to a full accounting while a succession of house-elves brought trays of tea, coffee, and tempting pastries, none of which had been touched by any of the three who found their appetites diminished by the events they were discussing.

"I never would have guessed," said Ron when Harry concluded his account. "It's mind-boggling."

"To say the least," said Hermione, who sat next to Ron on a gold-brocade covered settee. "I'm amazed you were able to work it all out so quickly, Harry."

"Your notes helped a lot, Hermione," Harry admitted. "The clincher was McLaggen's N.E.W.T. scores. Thanks for digging those up for me."

"I couldn't help wondering how he did so well in potions," said Hermione. "I still don't understand. . ." She broke off as comprehension dawned. "Of course! Polyjuice potion!"

"Someone else took the exam for him?" asked Ron. "But there are anti-cheating spells . . ."

"They must have found a way around them," Harry said. "I'm guessing that's how he got out of Azkaban too. He walked straight out because he looked like someone who could walk out of Azkaban without being questioned."

"Diabolical," said Ron, shaking his head. "Hardly unprecedented, though. It worked for Barty Crouch, didn't it?"

"Exactly," said Harry. "The Crouches were old family friends. He must have heard the story and thought it worth a try. As you say, Ron, it had worked once before."

"What's the next step, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"That's actually why I barged in on you at this ridiculous hour, Hermione," Harry said. "There's someone who might be able to lead me to McLaggen, but before I speak to him, I need to know if you can give me a little latitude on cutting a deal."

"What sort of deal?" said Hermione, frowning. "If McLaggen was involved in any way with Attor's murder . . ."

"It's not McLaggen," Harry said. "The person I need to speak to is, I believe, protecting someone who may have committed a crime a long time ago. He's determined to protect this individual, but might be willing to talk if I can offer some kind of incentive. I'm not asking for immunity, Hermione, just a little prosecutorial wiggle room. The crime in question is so old that it would probably be difficult to make out a solid case anyway, but I don't want to promise anything without your concurrence."

Hermione chewed her lower lip. "I'd have to take a look at all the facts of the case, but. . . well, if it's that's important, Harry, I suppose I can give you a little latitude. Very little, mind. Try not to offer the moon, all right?"

"I won't," said Harry. "Thank you, Hermione."

"You're welcome," said Hermione. "Have you told Ginny about all this? I really think you should, Harry. She'll be so relieved about the children . . . that is, if you're sure?

"That's just it, I'm not one hundred percent sure," Harry said. "I think it was a ruse, but I'd hate to get her hopes up only to bring them crashing down again if I turn out to be wrong. I'm definitely not removing any of the protections that have been put in place for the children's safety. Not yet anyway."

"You will be at the Burrow next weekend, won't you?" said Ron. "It wouldn't be the same without you and Ginny."

"I'll have to make security arrangements, but I think it'll be all right," Harry said. "I've already talked to Ginny about that. Last night, in fact."

"Don't you think you ought to tell her all of it, Harry?" Hermione suggested. "She's been a bundle of nerves since this dreadful business began. It would be worth it just to give her a little peace of mind. Besides, I really think she deserves to know, don't you?"

Harry hesitated, uncertain. He knew that Ginny would rather die than do anything to compromise the case and wouldn't betray his trust under torture, but mothers were not always rational when it came to their children. Even animal mothers were volatile when their babies were threatened, and Harry could not help wondering if Ginny, with her hair-trigger Weasley temper, might not just hex first and ask questions later. Still, Hermione was right. He owed Ginny an explanation, and the fact was that he needed her right now.

"You're right, Hermione, as usual," Harry said. "I'm not sure it's the wise or even the moral thing to do, but I think I'd like to take her with me when I speak to the person I mentioned. If all else fails, she might be able to persuade him to give me the information I need. So I suppose I'll have to tell her. And, as you say, she deserves to know."

"It's the right thing to do, Harry," Hermione told him. "Ginny isn't as fragile as you think. She never was."

"I never thought she was fragile. I just. . . well, you can't blame me for wanting to protect her, can you?"

"Not at all, mate," Ron said, with an ironic glance at Hermione. "It's only natural you'd want to. But if this lady here has taught me anything, it's that most women are more than capable of taking care of themselves, and us too a lot of the time. It's maddening, I know, not to mention hell on a man's ego, but there you have it."

Hermione smiled and rewarded him with a kiss. "You are wise beyond your years, Ronald Weasley!"

Ron kissed her back and said, "Well, that's why you married me, isn't it?"

Ginny and Harry Apparated outside the gates of the Hogwarts grounds, each clutching the other's hand as the looming bulk of the ancient castle rose above them. Having already warned Professor McGonagall they were coming, Harry pointed his wand and the silver stag burst from its end, cantering toward the castle to let is occupants know of their arrival. They looked around while they waited, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the place that had been Harry's first true home. Past the tall pillars on either side of the gates, each topped by a winged boar, the lake shimmered in the foreground. In the distance they could just make out the shape of the Whomping Willow, its branches swaying menacingly in the slight breeze blowing toward them from the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's hut wasn't visible from where they stood, but the faintest curl of smoke from a distant chimney told them that he was nearby and they would no doubt see him later.

They hadn't waited long when a familiar figure was seen striding toward them. Harry and Ginny's faces both split into wide grins as they recognized Neville Longbottom, who hurried along the path to greet his old friends. As soon as he unlocked the gates, Neville enveloped Ginny in a tight hug and followed this up with an equally enthusiastic greeting for Harry.

Harry looked him up and down. "Hannah's been feeding you well, I see."

Neville, who had always been round-faced, now sported an extra chin, with a possible third in the offing. "She's a great little cook, my Hannah," replied Neville, patting his ample belly unapologetically. "Living over the pub the way we do, there's always something around and it can be hard to resist."

Neville's wife, the former Hannah Abbott, was the new landlady of the Leaky Cauldron. During the school term Neville Apparated home to the pub each evening, which his students thought was incredibly cool.

"How's little Alice?" Ginny asked as they walked toward the castle.

"Ah, she's grand!" Neville replied, beaming. "Walking all over the place and talking a blue streak these days. And we've had great news. Hannah's expecting again."

"Fast work!" said Harry, grinning. "Alice isn't two yet, is she?"

"You should talk," Neville said. "James wasn't even a year old when you found out Albus was on the way."

"Er, um, yes, well," Harry harrumphed. Albus had been what George Weasley referred to as a "Whoops!" baby, meaning that Harry and Ginny hadn't planned to have another child quite so soon. Of course they were delighted with their second son, and it wasn't long before they also had Lily. It was at this point, however, that Ginny, who hadn't properly seen her own feet for several years, declared a moratorium on childbearing.

"That's wonderful, Neville!" said Ginny, giving him another hug. "When?"

"Just after the new year," Neville replied. "Hannah's feeling great. Not a trace of morning sickness, but she never went through that with Alice either."

"Lucky Hannah," said Ginny, who had been sick morning, noon, and night for the first several months of her pregnancies. "You'll give her our best, won't you, Neville? Oh, but we'll be able to do that in person! You are coming to the Burrow next weekend?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Neville replied. "I've been rushing through all my start-of-term work to make sure I have that weekend free." They had by now reached the double oak front doors. "Speaking of which," Neville said as they paused in the cavernous entryway, "I'd better get back to it. Minerva asked me to tell you she'd be honored if you both joined her in the Great Hall for dinner once you conclude your business. I'll be there too, if that's any incentive. I'm working a bit later this evening."

"Of course we will," said Harry. "See you then, Neville."

They watched as he hurried back out to the grounds in the direction of the greenhouses. When Harry turned back to Ginny she was looking around the torch-lit entrance hall with its high ceilings and suits of armor set along the walls.

"Shall we?" said Harry, holding out his hand. Ginny, however, was looking at the marble staircase leading to the upper floors.

"We have time, don't we?" she said. "Couldn't we stop by Gryffindor Tower, just for a minute?"

"Why?" asked Harry.

"I just want to see it," Ginny replied. "See if it's changed at all. Could we?"

She was luminous, filled with a strange excitement, and this filled Harry with a sense of guilt that he didn't quite understand. Ginny had been surprising him ever since he explained that he needed her help with an interview he planned to conduct later that afternoon. She'd seemed almost flattered when he confided the details of the case to her. Like Ron and Hermione, she was appalled by the duplicity he'd uncovered, but her reaction to his request left him feeling shamed. The idea that he needed her, that he was actually asking for her help, seemed to energize Ginny, and Harry couldn't help wondering at his own lack of perception. Hermione was right. Ginny was no fragile flower to be preserved under glass, nor a damsel in distress for him to champion, but a strong, mature woman, his true partner in every sense of the word, yet he'd been cutting her out of a huge portion of his life. Part of it was the need for secrecy his job required, but Harry knew that wasn't all of it. He'd simply grown used to compartmentalizing various aspects of his life. It was simpler that way, easier to manage, and somehow made everything seem more efficient. Now, however, the business of family and career had combined, and it came as an epiphany to Harry that his efficiency might have prevented a closeness he hadn't even realized he'd been missing. The happiness he'd given Ginny by the simple fact of admitting, "I need you," caused Harry to berate himself for not understanding that she wanted and needed to be needed and wanted every bit as much as he did himself.

Harry was so distracted that he almost forgot to leap over the trick step that used to cause such problems for Neville. "Whoops! Careful there," said Ginny, who was, annoyingly, not even out of breath.

"Climbing all these stairs used to be a lot easier," said Harry, who was feeling light-headed by the time they reached the seventh floor.

"You must be getting old," Ginny replied, teasing him. "Of course you haven't had much sleep either. That two hour kip you had after breakfast couldn't have done you any good."

"I'll survive," said Harry, breathing hard. "Though, you know, it just occurred to me, this is probably a wasted trip. We don't have the password. The Fat Lady won't let us in."

"Oh, I think she'll let you in. She always had a bit of a crush on you, you know."

"Don't be stupid," said Harry, blushing in spite of himself. "That's ridiculous."

"Think so, do you? Watch and see!"

The Fat Lady was dozing in her frame, but roused herself when Ginny cleared her throat. "Passwor. . .?" she started to say, but her eyes widened when she recognized Harry. "My dear boy! Is it you? Is it really you?"

Harry felt heat creep up his neck as Ginny stifled a giggle. "Er. . . How are you?"

"Smashing, dear boy. Absolutely smashing! And this is your little bride? Oh, delightful! Simply delightful! Wait till I tell Violet I've seen you. We were talking about you just the other day. 'Do you ever hear from that brilliant young man who defeated the Dark Lord?' she asked, and I said to her . . . "

"Um, if you wouldn't mind," Harry interrupted. "That is, we don't have the password or anything, but. . ."

"Me, refuse entrance to Harry Potter?" said the Fat Lady. "Wouldn't dream of it, dear boy. Enter and welcome!"

"Thanks," said Harry, shooting a dark look at Ginny who was barely able to crawl through the portrait hole, she was laughing so hard.

The common room was exactly the way Harry remembered it: the red and gold hangings, the squashy armchairs, the round tables scattered throughout the room, and the enormous stone fireplace, big enough to roast a boar in. Ginny ran to the window to look out at the grounds and Harry moved up behind her.

"It's the same," she whispered, awed. "It's exactly the same."

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. I just thought. . . Well, we've changed, haven't we? So much about our lives has changed, but nothing here has. It's almost as if the war never happened. As if all the years in between never happened. It's like . . . well, it's like going back in time, isn't it?"

Harry knew what she meant. Despite his fatigue, due to lack of sleep and climbing seven flights of stairs, he felt sixteen again, and he and Ginny had just come back from one of their frequent 'walks' through the grounds. It seemed that time managed to stand still in this enchanted place. It even smelled the same, the scent of wood-smoke mingling with the smells of ink and new parchment. Harry thought he could even detect a faint whiff of dung bombs, as though Fred and George had just pulled off another one of their many spectacular pranks. Harry felt a burning behind his eyes. He closed them tightly and as he did, he could hear the sound of Fred's laughter, see Tonks tripping over something as she patrolled the corridors, imagine Remus downstairs preparing for the next Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Memory transported him to the headmaster's office, and there was Albus Dumbledore, sitting behind a desk in his throne-like chair, blue eyes twinkling from behind half-moon spectacles. In the dungeons he would find Snape mixing up potion ingredients, while below, in the kitchens, Dobby was preparing dinner with the other house-elves. Back in Gryffindor Tower, Ron was slumped in an armchair by the fire while Hermione, her nose stuck in a book, looked up periodically to chide him for neglecting his homework. And Harry knew that if he just opened his eyes, Ginny would run toward him with a hard, blazing look on her face. . .

Harry opened his eyes and Ginny was looking at him, but she was not fifteen any more, she was thirty-five, and her face was creased in a frown.

"I should have insisted we put this off until tomorrow," she said. "You're exhausted, Harry, and no wonder after the night you had."

"I'm all right," Harry insisted. He brushed back a wisp of hair that had come out of the ponytail she'd tied it into that morning. "Are you sure you're all right with this? You honestly don't mind? I feel like I'm using you to help with this case. It just feels wrong."

"Don't be silly. I'm delighted to help and I'm pleased you asked me. And I'm really impressed with what you've accomplished, Harry. I don't think I told you that when we talked this morning."

"No, you didn't," Harry acknowledged. "But I'm glad you think so."

"I know I complain about your job," said Ginny, ducking her head as though she were a little embarrassed. "I still don't like the long hours or the way you exhaust yourself. But this whole situation, horrible as it's been, has given me a new perspective. It's been a revelation, in a way."

Harry's eyes narrowed. Could it be, was it possible, that he wasn't the only one who'd had an epiphany? "What do you mean, a revelation?"

"It's shown me a little more of what you do," said Ginny. "Better still, it's helped me understand why you do it. It's all about preventing it from ever happening again, isn't it? And in a way, it's . . . well, yes. In a way, I think it's really about us."

Harry felt his lips curve into a smile. "Well said. That's exactly what it's about. It's what it's always been about."

"I'm not backing away from my original position, mind," Ginny said, apparently sensing he'd spotted a chink in her defenses. "I still think you need to strike a better balance between work and family, but. . . well, I know I don't say it often enough, but I'm proud of you, Harry. I'm very proud of you."

"You are?" said Harry. He hadn't meant it to come out that way, as if he'd never suspected such a thing, but that was the way it sounded. And, come to think of it, he was a little surprised.

"Of course I am. I've always been proud of you. Why would you ask?"

Harry shrugged. "You seem to get awfully annoyed with me sometimes. And sometimes I feel like you have every right to be. I don't tell you things. I keep secrets. I've led you and the children into terrible danger. Sometimes I feel that I've let you down, Ginny. Sometimes I wonder why you put up with me."

"Harry," said Ginny, who seemed torn between laughter and exasperation. "Of course I get annoyed with you. You're a man. Men do very annoying things sometimes. But you haven't let me down, and I am proud of you." She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "You're my knight in shining armor, Harry. Don't you know that?"

Harry could not begin to tell her what this meant to him. It made him feel that he could climb the tallest mountain, slay the fiercest dragon, defeat any number of Dark Wizards. But he had one more question. "Are you happy, Ginny? Because I want you to be."

Ginny smiled a slow, sweet smile that made his heart feel as if it were dancing a tango. "I'm Mrs. Harry Potter, aren't I? That's more than enough happiness for one lifetime."

Looking at Ginny, Harry knew that many, many years into the future, when her bright tresses had faded, when her skin sagged and her body bent with age, she would be just as beautiful to him as she was right now. And he would be her true knight all the days of their lives.

Harry bowed in the style of an eighteenth century courtier. "Milady?" he said, holding out his arm.

Playing along, Ginny dipped into a curtsy. "Kind sir," she replied, and together they climbed back through the portrait hole and made their way toward the dungeons.