Chapter Seven
Obex Obduco
James and Lily's graves were toward the middle of the ancient looking Folly Gate Cemetary. The old grave digger, who was roaming about removing all the dead flowers, directed them to a slightly large statue of an angel, who was looking down upon two markers.
James Charlus Potter
February 6, 1960 - October 31, 1981
Beloved husband, father, son, and friend
Lily Evans Potter
April 5, 1960 - October 31, 1981
Beloved wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend
Ron and Hermione respectfully stood back as Harry knelt down in front of the angel, brushing some dried leaves from his parents' grave markers. He realized that he had no idea what he wanted to say. It was all too surreal, actually being here at their burial site... actually having been to the house where Voldemort had attacked them. He hadn't prepared at all. The wind blew his hair into his eyes, and he brushed it away impatiently as the sound of thunder could be heard in the distance.
"Um, hi," he said, quietly, feeling rather awkward. "It's-it's me. Harry." He cleared his throat, and Hermione tugged on Ron's arm to indicate they should give Harry some more space to allow him to speak to his parents. "Well, I finally made it. Took me long enough, huh? It took me all this time to get anyone to talk to me about where I could find you. Remus finally gave me a map. He's doing fine, by the way. Head of the Order now because of... well, Dumbledore... he's probably wherever you are now so I'm sure you know all about that. Anyway, he's seeing Tonks now. You know, Sirius' cousin? I think he's happy. He deserves to be happy." He glanced back toward his friends. "I'm happy, too, for the most part. I have two best friends, just like you did, Dad. Ron and Hermione. Ron's a Weasley and Hermione's a Muggleborn. She's brilliant; the top of our class and she's Head Girl this year. Ron... well, Ron's my best mate. I trust him with my life. He's never judged me because of who I am, and it's only gotten to him a few times. I understand. I'm sure it's not easy being my friend. He and Hermione have gotten together, actually. And it's about time, too.
"I, um... I've found someone as well. Her name's Ginny. She's Ron's little sister, and a year behind me. We were both on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Oh, yeah! I'm a Seeker, and I was the youngest person ever admitted on a House Team. I was Quidditch Captain last year. Ginny plays Chaser, and since I'm not going back to school, she got Captain this time. Yeah... I don't know whether you're disappointed in me or proud of me for dropping out. Of course, you probably know why I had to do it. You probably already know a lot of what I'm telling you. You-you can see stuff from... wherever you are, right? So, you know all about the Chamber, and the TriWizard Tournament, and Voldemort, and Snape. Yeah, Snape... I haven't the time in the world to go into Snape."
He sighed as the rain finally started to fall, making "pat, pat, pat" noises on the angel statue. "About Ginny... I, um... I kind of left her. I didn't want to do it. God, I didn't want to. The thing with Cho... that was nothing. Absolutely nothing; just me having a crush and being ridiculous. What I feel for Ginny is beyond words, it's beyond everything. I think... I think I love her, Mum... Dad. And because I love her, I had to leave her. I love her more than I've ever loved anything else. And I'm scared. I'm terrified for her, for Ron and Hermione... for me."
Harry suddenly punched the ground angrily. "I don't know what to do! How am I supposed to destroy three, maybe four, Horcruxes and then destroy Voldemort himself? Dumbledore couldn't even do it! He-he got hurt because of the ring, he died because of that potion... because it made him too weak to fight Snape. And then here I am. Me, who hasn't finished school, who is nowhere near the top of my class, who can't even do nonverbal spells yet for God's sake... and I'm supposed to defeat the most feared Wizard in the world? How did this happen? Why did this happen? Why aren't you here? I need you."
The rain started falling harder now. Hermione had transfigured an umbrella out of a twig, and she and Ron were taking cover under it.
"It's not fair," Harry muttered. "It's not fair this happened to you, or to me. I don't... I don't blame you. Not really. If it hadn't been me, it would have been Neville. And I wouldn't wish this life upon anyone. I won't say that I hope watching me doesn't make you sad, because I know that it does. Just know that, even though I never really knew you, I still look up to you. You were both brave, and smart, and talented. Everyone loved you. I love you. And I miss you. And... I'm okay." For now, he added silently.
He sat there for a few moments longer, already soaking wet but no longer caring. Then, when he was ready, he stood up and brushed the mud of his pants. He whispered an incantation, and flowers shot out of his wand. He placed them on his mother's grave. He said the incantation again, and placed the other flowers on his father's. He heard movement behind him, and felt Ron and Hermione come and stand next to him.
"You alright?" Ron asked.
"I am now," Harry answered.
He felt Hermione slip her hand in his and give it a squeeze. "I'm proud of you, Harry. You did what you set out to do." He felt a spell being used and winced slightly at the pinching sensation in his forehead. Hermione had given him back his scar.
Harry almost laughed. "You were the one telling me we should turn back," he said, grinning.
Hermione blushed. "Yes, well... for once, I'm glad you didn't listen to me."
"I'll be sure to do it more often."
The rain began to let up, and Hermione reverted the umbrella back into the twig, and tossed it onto the ground. The thunder was still rolling, however, and there was a flash of lightning in the distance.
"Come on," she said, "I think's it's just the calm before another storm hits. We should get going. Remus-"
"Well, well, well," a voice drawled behind them. A cool, dark, and dangerous voice. A voice that made Harry's blood boil. "Caught unawares yet again, Potter? Will you never learn?"
The three friends dared not to turn around. Hermione had paled, and she was gripping Harry's hand tighter than ever. "Don't," she whispered to him. "Just don't."
"Although, I can't say I'm surprised," the hated voice continued. "You always were rather slow, weren't you, Potter?"
Harry visibly stiffened, and as one, he, Ron, and Hermione finally turned to meet the owner of that voice.
Their ex-Potions's Master and Dumbledore's murderer.
Severus Snape.
"I was wondering when you were going to show yourself," Harry spat, venomously. "I'm surprised you..." He trailed off has he and his friends came face to face with not only Snape, but Voldemort, and about a dozen other Death Eaters as well. They were all masked except for the Dark Lord.
"Oh, fuck," Ron blurted out.
Next to one of the Death Eaters, the old gravedigger was floating, clearly dead. His head lolled to one side.
"Mr. Weasley, as eloquent as always," Snape sneered. It was impossible to know which Death Eater he was. "Yes, it seems your heroic best friend has lead you to certain doom once again. Wouldn't you say so, My Lord?"
Voldemort laughed softly. "You were quite right, Severus. The boy does have the tendency to be a bit... stupid." He flicked his wand, and the body of the gravedigger flew forward and landed at Harry's feet.
The rest of the Death Eaters joined in the laughter.
Harry gritted his teeth and went for his wand. "Let go of me, Hermione."
She shook her head and gripped him even harder. Harry swore his fingers were going to be bruised. "No. Hang on to me. We need to get away."
"Like hell," Harry snapped at her.
"I think you've made him angry, Severus," Voldemort taunted. "You've been decidedly foolish lately, boy. This is the second time we've faced each other because your Gryffindor idiocy has allowed you to aimlessly wander about. I keep telling you, Harry, that you ought to listen to your Mudblood."
"You'll find, My Lord, that Potter rarely listens to anyone," Snape said, and Harry could just imagine the smirk that was forming on his face.
"Come to visit your parents graves, I see. Seeking answers amongst the dead?" Voldemort smiled cruelly. "What an ingenious twist of fate that you should die on top of their burial markers."
"Who said anything about Harry dying?" Ron snarled. He moved closer to his friend, while on the other side, Hermione did the same, as if entrenching Harry between the two of them.
Voldemort and the Death Eaters laughed. "How amusing. Look... look how they move to protect him. Are they your servants now, Harry?"
"He's baiting you," Hermione hissed. "Don't listen."
"I'm not going to lose the two of you. This is my fight-" Harry argued.
"No! We're in this together." She pulled her wand. "All of you, stand back!"
Voldemort and the others laughed harder than ever. "And what, exactly, do you plan to do, you filthy Muggle spawn? Even you are smart enough to know you cannot possibly defeat me."
"Hermione," Ron whispered, frightened, and shook his head at her.
Voldemort regarded Harry carefully. "You have to know you cannot hope to win, Harry. Especially against Severus. He's my most trusted servant now, you know. And, of course, you know it was he who alerted me to the prophecy."
Harry's eyes flashed in anger.
"Should I dispose of him for you, My Lord?" Snape asked.
"Enough of this, you fucking coward! Where are you? You can't even show your face to me, can you?" Harry snorted. "Pathetic."
The rabble in front of them suddenly got silent.
"You were quite right, Severus," Voldemort said, after a moment. "He cares nothing about me." He turned quickly to the Death Eater on his right. "Show yourself."
The Death Eater's mask melted away to reveal Severus Snape. His black eyes were narrowed, and bored them into Harry's. He could almost feel the hate radiating from them.
"I thought we discussed you using that word, Potter," Snape said, every so quietly, ever so dangerously.
"I thought you would have realized that I don't care," Harry shot back. He shouldered his way past Ron and Hermione. "Are you going to dock points? Give me detention? Five hundred billion points from Gryffindor or something?"
"Harry Potter, get back here!" Hermione hissed. "How dare you be so stupid-"
"Be quiet, Hermione."
"No, I will not! You are letting your feelings blind you."
"Listen to Miss Granger, Potter," Snape said. "You do not want to fight me."
"Yes, I do," Harry growled. He raised his wand, and, lightning fast, Snape did the same.
Voldemort clapped appreciatively. "How entertaining! Please continue."
The rest of the Death Eaters jeered Snape and Harry on, beginning to form a circle around them.
"Don't be ridiculous, Potter. You've learned nothing since our last encounter. I will block you with astounding ease," Snape said, silkily.
"I'm not afraid of you," Harry said, back.
Snape smiled. "Yes. You are."
Harry reflexively started to look away, because he knew what Snape was about to do, when he realized that his ex-Potion's Master was looking at a point behind him.
At Hermione.
He sent the slicing hex he'd been practicing at Snape, who quickly blocked it, giving Harry time to yell, "Don't look at him, Hermione."
She gasped and pulled out her own wand.
"He'll use Legilimency on you. Don't look at his eyes," Harry warned, and then suddenly felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach. He fell backward and into the angel, the wind knocked out of him due to the force of Snape's spell.
"Harry!" Ron yelled, helping his friend to his feet.
The Death Eaters laughed and applauded. "Something more creative this time, don't you think, Severus?" Voldemort said. Snape nodded.
Harry coughed and sputtered as he tried to regain his footing. Snape raised his wand, and Harry noticed that he was again focusing on Hermione.
"Leave her alone, you son of a-"
But Hermione suddenly jumped in front of him and Ron. She swung her arm in an arc, and as she brought it back down, shouted, "Obex Obduco!"
All twelve Death Eaters, Snape, and even Voldemort, were suddenly hurled violently backward about ten feet. They thudded to the ground, two of the Death Eaters actually crashing into some of the other statues in the graveyard.
Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. "Ron, go! Now!" she ordered, and spun quickly, trailing Harry behind her. Before anyone could get to their feet, the three had disappeared.
After a few beats, a couple of the Death Eaters struggled to their feet. Voldemort slowly floated up to a standing position. Looking around in an almost bored fashion, he sent the ones who had gotten up flying backward once again and into a large stone mausoleum with bone shattering strength.
"Up, Severus," he ordered, stepping over to him and toward the grave markers of Lily and James.
Snape complied, trailing behind the Dark Lord.
"Interesting that she used that spell," Voldemort said, not turning around. "I wonder where she learned it."
Snape came to stand beside Voldemort, who was looking down upon Lily and James' graves with a curious expression. "I cannot hope to guess, My Lord. However, she is very intelligent for a Mudblood. And I have already told you that Potter found my book."
"Ah, yes," Voldemort said. "Your book." He said nothing for a while, and during this silence the rest of his followers had regained their footing and came to stand behind him. Then, very suddenly, he turned to Snape and hissed: "Return to your home, my friend, and continue working on the potions. I have... work... to do here."
Snape bowed. "As you wish, My Lord."
He took a few steps back from the Potters' graves, and then he, like Harry, Ron, and Hermione, disappeared.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione reappeared in front of the row of houses that contained Number 12, Grimmauld Place. They had barely caught their breath, when Harry reeled on Hermione.
"How could you do that? I was ready for him! You had no right, Hermione, absolutely no right at all!"
Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. "I had every right in the world! I am your friend, Harry! Ron is your friend. We were trying to save you. I'm glad that we went to Godric's Hollow and you learned about your past, but I did warn you that something was going to happen. But you just didn't care! You are being so ludicrously stupid that I can't stand it! Snape is way too powerful, and you damn well know it! There is no way you would have stood a chance against either him or Voldemort. We were outnumbered, and you need to worry less about vengeance, and just concentrate more on staying alive long enough to fulfill the prophecy!" She was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed, and her hair was bushier than ever.
Harry tried to glare at her some more but it was no use. He knew she was right. He looked to Ron.
"That was a really close call," he said. Harry nodded. "We should really stop doing that. I think next time I may have a heart attack."
"You're not ready, Harry," Hermione said again, softer this time.
"Yeah, I know," Harry admitted, scowling. "Just... ugh, that bastard, hiding behind his mask, taunting me like that."
"It worked. You rose to the bait," Hermione pointed out. Harry said nothing.
"Come on," Ron panted. "Let's go inside and report to Remus."
They started toward Number 12, which showed itself as they got closer.
"That was a really cool spell, hon," Ron said to Hermione. "Where did you learn that?"
Hermione was silent for a moment, as if thinking about what to say. "I don't know. It just sort of came to me."
"Well, you know so many spells, I'm sure it's hard trying to keep track of all the books you found them in," Ron told her, giving Hermione a wink.
"Very funny, Ronald."
Harry unlocked the door, and the three friends stepped through into the dimly lit parlor. "I've seen that spell before."
Ron and Hermione blinked. "Really?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded. "When I was in my house. One of my memories... the one of my mum fighting Voldemort. It was nonverbal, but it had the same effect. She sent Voldemort flying backward into a wall."
Hermione said nothing to this except, "Hmmm..." so Harry chose to drop it, and they started down to the kitchens to try and find Remus.
"Have you thought anymore about who that voice could have been?" Ron asked him.
"When did I have time?" Harry pointed out.
"True. Do you think it could have been Sirius? Hagrid said he came to the house after Voldemort-"
"No, it wasn't Sirius. Hagrid had already found me in the house before he showed up, remember? The voice was... I dunno, it was sort of muffled, but I could tell it was deep. And I know I've heard it before. I just don't know where, because I could barely hear it. It's starting to bother me."
"Well, you'll figure it out," Ron told him.
"Oh, thank Merlin! Where have you three been?" they heard Mrs. Weasley yell from the floor above them.
"Oh, great," Ron moaned. "Just what we need." He went to the foot of the stairs and yelled back, "We've been fighting Snape, Voldemort, and a dozen other Death Eaters at Godric's Hollow!"
There was a very long pause.
"By the way," Ron added, "what's for dinner?"
After a severe telling off from Mrs. Weasley, who couldn't believe that the three had done something so foolish after what happened the last time, Harry went off in search of Remus. He told him about what he had found at Godric's Hollow, and also about his confrontation with Snape and Voldemort.
"I told you, you shouldn't have gone," Remus yelled. "You could have-"
"Died?" Harry finished. Remus glowered at him. "I know, okay? But, like I said, we planned for it and we came back okay. It was Hermione's doing, really. She cast this really powerful spell called Obex Obduco or something. I haven't read about it in any of my books. Anyway, it sent everyone, even Voldemort, flying."
"She used the Obex Obduco?" Remus repeated.
"Yeah, you know it?" Harry asked.
"I know of it. It's not an easy spell to master. It takes great power and great determination. It's a very potent shielding charm. More of a weapon, then a shield, really. She did it on her first try?"
Harry nodded.
Remus raised his eyebrows. "Well, that is a triumph. That's how you escaped?"
"Yeah. After they flew backward, we Apparated back here." Harry shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "Remus... when I was in my house... well, before it fell down... I-I remembered things."
Remus looked up sharply. "You what? Harry, you were barely over one year old when you lived there."
"I know. I think... I think it might have been the magic in the house. I think it was holding it together, too. But, I remembered things. I saw Sirius, and my dad's study. And the night that they died."
Remus paled. "You-you remembered that?"
Harry nodded. "I could remember bits and pieces when the Dementor's came around, you know? But when I was in the house, I remembered everything."
Remus said nothing for a long time. He got up and poured himself and Harry some tea. "I'm sorry," he said, finally.
Harry stared at him, bemused. "What for?"
"You shouldn't have to remember that. It's an awful thing, and... I'm sorry."
Harry sighed. "Part of me was upset, but... I'm okay with it now. I learned things from it. I found out something about my mum being spared. One of the Death Eaters asked Voldemort to do it."
Remus froze in the middle of handing Harry his teacup. "What?"
"Yeah, he said... 'because one of my servants wishes it, and he has earned this reward.' Ron figures it was for some horrid reason." He took his tea from Remus, who sat down opposite of Harry again. The two of them drank in silence for a while, before Harry cleared his throat and said, "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, and I've just now got up the courage to do it."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "By all means, Harry."
Harry put his cup down and looked Remus full in the face. "Snape was at my parents wedding."
Remus blinked in surprise. "Snape what?"
"Snape was at my parents wedding," Harry repeated. "He came to see my mum. I was wondering if you knew why."
Remus averted his eyes. "That's... I'm afraid I have no idea, Harry. Lily never mentioned anything about it. Where did you hear this?"
"Aunt Petunia. She was listening to them."
"Well, then, you must know why he was there, if she was eavesdropping."
Harry nodded. "I do. He came to warn her about the Dementors, and try to get her to not marry my dad. That's what I thought you could help me with."
"Why would you think-"
"Were Snape and my mum friends, Remus?" Harry asked.
The werewolf looked thrown. "Harry, I... I was more friends with James than Lily when we were in school. I didn't really start hanging out with her until she and James got serious in our seventh year. She was in my House, and in a lot of my classes, and I can tell you that she was funny, brilliant, and quite cheeky with Professor Slughorn. I don't think she liked him very much. But..." he trailed off, and Harry could tell that Remus was holding something back. "All I can tell you is that Snape and Lily always used to partner together in Potions. Other than that, I do not know."
For some strange reason, Harry seriously doubted that. Then again, Remus Lupin had absolutely know reason to lie to him. Come to think of it, Harry decided, the idea of my mother being friends with someone like Snape is completely absurd.
Harry nodded. "Okay."
"Now," Remus started, "there are some other, more boring things, I need to discuss with you, mainly concerning Dumbledore's will."
"His will? Why?"
"Well, it seems he left a few things to you, Harry," Remus explained. Harry was in shock.
"Why would he do that?" he asked.
Remus gave him a look. "Perhaps you weren't aware, Harry, but he was really quite fond of you. And, I'm sure he had a number of things in his possession that he thought you might, er, need later.
"So, the Ministry has been going over the will. Most of the possessions and assets have fallen to Aberforth, of course. But, Dumbledore apparently has left you a number of things. One that I am certain of is his Pensieve."
Harry frowned. "Why would he leave me that?"
"I'm not sure, Harry. We won't know anything until it's reconciled and we receive a copy. We also can't get any of what he's left to you until it's reconciled. And, of course, Aberforth can always challenge it, but I don't think that will be a problem."
Harry was at a complete loss for what to say. He was extremely humbled by the fact that Dumbledore would think him deserving of anything that he had possessed, especially his Pensieve.
"I also wanted to speak to you about Kreacher," Remus continued, snapping Harry out of it.
"Um, okay. What about him?"
"Well, what do you plan to do with him, for starters."
Harry sighed. "I never wanted him to begin with. Dumbledore and I had him sent to Hogwarts so he could be watched."
"And I think it's a good idea that he remain there, don't you? That way Minerva can keep an eye on him."
Harry nodded. "And Dobby, too."
Remus nodded. "Also, I've spoken to Arthur and Molly about them moving into Grimmauld Place..."
Harry brightened up considerably.
"And, they said they wouldn't want to impose upon you like that."
"But... I asked them to move in!"
"And I explained that to them. They've been in that house for decades, Harry, I'm sure it's hard for them to leave it. But, they did say that they would think about it."
"Maybe I should go talk to them."
"No, Harry. Let them decide for themselves."
Harry looked grumpy for a moment before nodding in agreement.
"Excellent," Remus said, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised Tonks that I would meet her when she got off duty."
"Sure," Harry said, grinning.
"I'm glad you're okay, Harry," Remus said, genuinely, and took his leave.
Harry sighed. "If only I was okay," he muttered.
Over the next few days before Ron and Hermione returned to Hogwarts, the three of them spent their time either in Harry and Ron's room practicing spells - now that Harry was of age - or downstairs helping Mrs. Weasley and Remus with the house. Harry, of course, was absent from time to time to attend Order meetings, which he would promptly go and recount with his two friends.
"I don't see why they just won't let us join, too," Ron muttered grumpily over a game of chess one day. "You're going to tell us everything anyway."
The day before Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's departure, Mrs. Weasley came into Harry and Ron's room and told him that Professor McGonnagal was there to speak to him.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. "Um, okay," Harry said. "Tell her I'll be right down."
A few moments later found Harry walking down the stairs to the kitchen to find Professor McGonnagal waiting for him, deep in conversation with Moody and Remus.
He knocked on the door frame before asking, "You wanted to see me, Professor?"
Moody and Remus exchanged glances, before Remus said, "Come on, Mad-Eye. Molly thinks that boggart might have gone back in the wardrobe again."
Harry rolled his eyes at them as they went back upstairs, and then turned back to the stern looking, newly appointed Headmistress.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Harry realized that she was probably waiting for him to ask her to sit down, as Grimmauld Place was now officially his house.
"Er, sit down. Do you want some tea or something?" Harry asked, feeling very awkward. This was the first time anyone had expected him to play host, and he suddenly felt guilty about the fact that Remus and Mrs. Weasley were off cleaning his house while he traipsed off with Ron and Hermione and practice spells in his room.
"Tea would be fine, thank you," said Professor McGonnagal, sitting down in one the chairs. Harry walked into the main cooking area and thankfully found the kettle still on the stove, figuring that Remus and Moody must have been in the middle of having a cup when McGonnagal showed up. Harry brought out the kettle and tea bags, and then successfully bewitched a tray to follow him carrying the cups, saucers, sugars, and cream. He made the tea for him and his once Transfiguration instructor, who took the cup with a "thank you", and added her own cream and sugar.
"I see you've been practicing your Charms work," she said, after Harry had ended the spell and placed everything on the table.
"What? Oh, yeah... my birthday was a few weeks ago..." Harry began.
"I know when your birthday is, Potter. And I know that you are now of age and capable of making your own decisions, however rash that they may be."
Harry felt something like a stone drop into his stomach, and he fought very hard against sighing impatiently. I knew it, he thought.
"Am I to understand that you again faced the Dark Lord, Potter?" McGonnagal asked.
"Yes," Harry said, boldly. "I went to Godric's Hollow, to visit my parents graves."
McGonnagal almost faltered at that. "Ah, well... Am I also to understand that young Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley also accompanied you?"
"Of course."
Harry wasn't sure if this honest behavior was working or not, but he could tell that McGonnagal was looking at him quite differently than she used to when he was in her class. "Well, at least you're behaving somewhat like an adult about all this and holding your temper. Although, I have no doubt that you would rather tell me where to put my lecture, and then tell me to get out."
Harry almost choked on his tea.
"Oh, do come off it, Mr. Potter," she sighed, handing him a napkin. "I will admit that you risking your life and the life of your friends for the second time in a few months is only part of the reason I have come to talk to you today. Actually, I have come to discuss your decision to not return to Hogwarts."
Harry froze. He slowly put down his napkin and his cup. "With all due respect Professor, that really isn't any of your business."
If McGonnagal was at all angry or surprised by his sudden change of tactics, she did not show it. "Oh, really?"
"Yes, really. As you said, I'm of age, and I can make my own decisions. Actually, I decided this after Dumbledore's funeral. Ron and Hermione tried to say they weren't going to go back either, but I know Hermione, at least, has changed her mind."
"Well, I certainly hope Mr. Weasley has as well, since they both leave tomorrow," sniffed McGonnagal.
"That's not the point, Professor. I'm sorry that you had to come down here and all, but it's not going to work. Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Remus, and Kingsley have already tried. I'm not going back. I have things I need to do."
"Things that are more important than finishing your wizarding education?"
"Yes."
"Things that you probably will not be able to accomplish with only six years of magical training?"
Harry didn't answer right away. "I've been studying on my own," he said, finally. "I have books-"
"You have books," McGonnagal repeated, slowly. "Mr. Potter, I may not know what you and Albus were up to the night he... that night. However, I have come to the conclusion that it was something that you yourself seem to think you need to finish. And I will say this to you Potter, right now, once and for all, that if Albus Dumbledore could not do it, than you most certainly cannot. You are seventeen, only have six years of magical education, and it would take you a great many years to be the sort of wizard that Dumbledore was."
"How did you know that I wasn't coming back?" Harry asked, suddenly.
"Do not change the subject, Mr. Potter."
"Again, with all due respect, you are not my Professor anymore. And it's going to stay that way. I made a promise to Dumbledore that I wouldn't tell anyone, save Ron and Hermione, what we were doing... what he had been doing... that whole year. And I do need to finish it. And I will finish it. Dumbledore wanted me to, otherwise he never would have brought me along, and he never would have showed me how. I know I'm not... I know I'll never be as powerful as he was. But this is something I have to do. And no one, and I mean no one, is going to change my mind."
"You," McGonnagal said. "This is something that you have to do?"
"Yes."
"Then I can safely assume that it has something to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
Harry once again gripped the locket that was around his neck. "It has everything to do with him."
"I see. Potter, you are being ridiculous. You cannot possibly-"
"I think I've heard enough about what I can't do, thanks," Harry said, hotly.
McGonnagal glared hard at him.
"You're not changing my mind. No one is. This is more important than school. I know I'm nowhere near prepared. I know there's a good chance that I may die. But, I can't. And I won't. Because I will still have one more thing left to do."
McGonnagal regarded him silently for a long time. Harry took this opportunity to clean up from their tea, which was still relatively untouched. "You've suddenly grown up far too fast, Mr. Potter," she said, making Harry stop. "Something has changed in you."
Harry shrugged. "Something had to change."
"You wanted to know how I knew you weren't coming back?" McGonnagal asked.
Harry nodded.
"There's a list of names in Hogwarts, Mr. Potter. It's a list of all the magical children that are born each year, that will eventually come to Hogwarts. It also keeps a list of all the children that are still in attendance. Your name disappeared."
"Ron's didn't?" asked Harry.
McGonnagal paused for a moment, as if deciding whether or not she should say anything. "It did, for a moment. But not anymore." She looked at him sharply. "I do not want you to think this some sort of betrayal on his part."
"I don't. At first, I was really happy that it would be the three of us, but then, I got sad. It's one thing for me to decide to not go back to school. I didn't want to be the reason they didn't finish. But," he added, "I do expect them to help me now and then. And... it would, er, be nice if they could spend more time here with me at Grimmauld Place. You know... instead of living at, er, school."
McGonnagal's face had gotten icier at those last few comments. "Hmph," she said, rising up from the table. "We'll see about that."
"Professor, if you don't mind my asking, when did my name disappear?"
"Shortly after Dumbledore's funeral."
Harry frowned. "Then why didn't you come talk to me sooner?"
McGonnagal straightened her robes and fixed Harry with an almost sympathetic expression. "Because, I had rather hoped you would have come to your senses on your own."
"Yeah," said Harry, "I've never really been any good at that."
A few hours later found Harry sitting cross-legged in an old armchair that looked out into the street in front of Number 12. McGonnagal had gone after her unsuccessful attempt to "talk sense" into Harry, and the sun had started to set, casting his hiding place in a dull, orange glow. With a sigh, he got up and headed up the stairs to his room that he had been sharing with Ron.
He found his best friend sitting on his bed looking to be in quite a mood. Hermione and Ginny - who looked to be in just a foul a mood as Ron - were there as well, sitting on Harry's bed. Ron muttered a dull greeting as Harry walked through the doorway.
"Hello, Harry," Hermione said, tiredly. "What did Professor McGonnagal want?"
"Have you been talking to her all this time?" Ginny asked.
Harry shook his head. "No. She left hours ago. I've been downstairs thinking." He noticed that Ron's trunk was still empty by the foot of his bed, and his things were still laying about all over the room.
Ginny sighed. "Don't pay any attention to him. He's pouting because he's just had a row with me and Mum and he knows we're right."
Ron scowled. "Oh, shut up, will you? And for the last time, get out of my room."
Hermione sighed and resolved to stay out of it, instead going back to the book that was in her lap.
"It's not just your room. It's Harry's, too. And it's Harry's house. I'll leave when he tells me to," Ginny fired back.
"You sound like a first year."
Ginny imeadiately went red. "That's rich coming from-"
"Why haven't you packed yet?" Harry demanded, interrupting her.
"Mum and I were wondering the same thing, which is why he's sitting over there now acting like we've just told him that Umbridge is going to be his new roommate," Ginny muttered.
"Because I'm not going anywhere," Ron said, shortly, glaring at his sister.
"Like hell you're not," Harry said with a note of finality.
Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all looked at him, startled. "What?" asked Ron.
"Get your stuff and put it in your trunk. You're leaving tomorrow," Harry told him.
Hermione, as if sensing the mounting tension in the room, slowly closed her book and said to Ginny, "Come on. Your mum could probably use some help with dinner."
What is it with everyone's excuse either being cooking or cleaning, Harry thought, wryly as the two girls quickly headed out of the room, closing the door behind them.
Ron didn't budge from his position on the bed, but Harry could tell that he was remaining there with great difficulty.
"Don't start ordering me around. I know it's 'your house' and everything now-" Ron started, but Harry interrupted again.
"Yes, and it's also my decision whether or not I go back to school," he said.
"Yeah, and it's mine whether or not I go either."
"No, it isn't. You're not going because I'm not. I never should have agreed when you and Hermione said that you would follow me. I guess I was too happy at the time to really think about it. But, I can't ask that you or Hermione put your life and your dreams aside for me."
"It's not about you-"
Harry scowled. "I'm not stupid, Ron."
Ron scowled back just as darkly and didn't say anything right away. He got up off the bed and moved closer to Harry.
"You need me," he said, flatly. "I'm not going to leave you out there to fight who knows what and to face him alone."
Harry knew by "him" that he meant Voldemort.
"And," Ron continued, "you have a lot of nerve coming in here telling me that I can't go with you after the fuss you made about Remus trying to talk you into going back to Hogwarts."
"That's not the point."
"What a load of bollocks!" Ron bellowed. "It is so the point! You're trying to do exactly what everyone's been doing to you! But, since it's me you're trying to convince, it's okay!"
"Ron, you bloody idiot!" Harry yelled back, stamping his foot. Ron raised his eyebrows. "I don't want you going because I don't want you to die!"
Ron blinked. "Because I'm not good enough, is that it?"
"If you say that again, I swear I'll hit you. It has nothing to do with whether or not you're good enough or smart enough. I'm not going to be responsible for the fact that you only had a year left and you blew it because of me! You still want to be an Auror, don't you?"
Ron looked away. "Yes," he said through clenched teeth.
"Right. And how the hell do you expect to go into Auror training if you drop out of school?"
Ron shrugged. "When we defeat Voldemort, it won't matter. They'll let us both in because we would have saved everyone."
"No," Harry shook his head. "That's a long shot and you know it. You have ambitions, Ron. You want to be an Auror. You want to play Quidditch. You're my best mate, and I don't want to be the reason that you left it all behind."
"We're in the middle of a war, Harry! That stuff doesn't matter anymore!"
"It matters to me! Because I want to do all those things, and I can't! I want to go back to school, Ron. I want to go back and act like the Wizarding world would be fine without me. I wish I could just say 'The hell with the prophecy, it's a load of crap', but I can't. But you can do all those things, Ron. You can graduate, you can play Quidditch, you can go on to be an Auror, like we said we wanted to. But I can't."
Ron was silent for a while. He sighed heavily, and then looked at Harry again. "So, what you're saying is, you want me to go back to school because you can't. You want me to do all the things that you can't. You don't want me there with you, risking my life. You'd rather me be scared out of my mind that you're lying dead somewhere, while I'm off having the time of my life flying round the Quidditch pitch, is that right?"
"Er... well, I wouldn't put it that way..."
Ron snorted.
"It's nice to know that you'd be worried about me," Harry muttered. "Um... thanks."
Ron scuffed the floor with the toe of his trainers. "Yeah, well..."
"Hermione's going back. I'm not mad at her for it. Don't you want to spend as much time with her as you can? You already wasted so much of it being an ass."
Ron looked at Harry with an expression that said he didn't know whether to laugh or be angry. "Of course I want to be with Hermione," he said.
"Then go back to school, Ron. I already made it plain to McGonnagal that I expect the two of you to be there whenever I do need you."
Ron laughed. "You told McGonnagal that?"
Harry laughed, too. "Yeah. I was having a really brave moment, I guess. So, you'll still be helping me when I need you. But, you'll still be able to finish school at the same time. Plus, you guys will have the library, and the Restricted Section. You'll be helping me from Hogwarts, too, when you can't be with me. And I want to try and make it so you can spend as much time here on weekends and stuff as you can."
Ron still looked dubious. "I don't like that I'm... that I'm letting you off alone. I don't like it."
Harry's brow furrowed in sudden understanding. "What, do you...? Ron, I won't think you've abandoned me or anything." Then he laughed. "Ron, you're such an idiot sometimes. Come on! You're my best friend!"
"I did it once," Ron muttered. "I didn't believe you when you said you didn't put your name in the Goblet of Fire. I left, and you had to worry about the First Task and face a dragon alone. Because I was too stupid and angry and jealous. Hmph... some best friend."
Harry didn't know what to say. "Ron... that was three years ago. We were fourteen."
"I'm not going to do that again," Ron said, sternly.
"This isn't the same thing, do you understand?"
"No," Ron said, honestly. "But... dammit it all, anyway... you're probably right." He sighed, running a hand through his red hair. "And-and if you want me to go, then I will. For you," he added, firmly.
Harry nodded, showing that he understood what Ron was trying to say.
"On the condition that during the final battle between you and Voldemort, whenever and wherever it is, that I'm there with you," Ron continued.
Harry sighed. "Ron-"
"Take it or leave it."
Harry tried to glare but was unsuccessful. For everything that Ron was - stubborn, hard-headed, and hot-tempered - he was also a very good chess player. Harry had let him back him into a corner, and whatever way he turned, Ron had checkmate. But the truth was, he was glad that Ron had offered to be there at the end. He may not have wanted them dropping out of school, but he couldn't face the end without his two best friends.
"Fine," Harry agreed.
"Hermione, too."
"Yes, Hermione, too. And Remus and Moody and whoever else wants to help, because I'm sure we'll all need it."
"Good," Ron said, and flopped back down onto his bed. "Bloody hell, I guess I should start packing."
Harry grinned. "Ask Tonks. She's actually pretty good at it when you're in a hurry."
Ron gave him an odd look.
"I guess I should be like everyone else and see if your mum needs help," Harry said after a time. "And by the way, I already knew that you were going to go back to Hogwarts."
"Oh, yeah? How's that?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged. "McGonnagal. She apparently has some magic list. Only my name disappeared. So, you were going to go all along, you just didn't know it yet."
Ron scowled. "Yeah, well... she doesn't know everything." But a blush was already creeping to his ears.
Ron had indeed enlisted the help of Tonks' packing skills, and the next morning he, Hermione, and Ginny left for Kings Cross Station. Harry could tell Mrs. Weasley was dying to try one last time to get Harry to come along as well, but with stern looks from both Remus and Mr. Weasley, she held her tongue and instead snapped at Ron to hurry up.
The two boys had said their goodbyes that morning. Hermione hugged him on her way out the door, telling him to be safe and not to try anything stupid while they were gone. "Please, whatever you do, Harry, don't face him alone," she had said, squeezing him tightly.
Harry couldn't make any promises, but he told her that he would to make her feel better. Next was an awkward farewell from Ginny, and then she, Ron, Hermione, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley headed out the door to catch the Knight Bus. Harry was left with Remus, an empty room, and an equally empty feeling house.
"How's the cleaning coming?" Harry asked the werewolf later.
"Well, we had to put it on hold for a while of course, after some events from last year, and the more, er, recent and obvious one. But, the third floor is pretty much done. There's still the attic... I think there's an extra room up there as well," Remus said.
"Hmm. Can I go check it out?" Harry asked.
"Er... I don't know whether that would be advisable. I have no idea what Sirius' parents could have put up there."
"Kreacher used to climb up there all the time and get into the air vent."
"It's up to you, but make sure you have your wand."
Harry decided to put his exploring off till later. Besides, he knew Ron would be furious if he found out that Harry had gone up to the attic without him. Especially if he found out he'd done it right after Ron left for Hogwarts.
"Maybe you're right," he said to Remus. He caught a glance at that morning's Daily Prophet. "Anything new?" he asked, indicating it.
Remus shook his head. "Not really."
Harry bit his lip. "Do you think I should report my, er... sighting?"
"Of Snape and Voldemort?"
Harry nodded.
"I think it would cause more harm than good, Harry, to be honest. They've already reported that grave digger's death and contributed it to..." Remus stopped at the look on Harry's face. "That wasn't your fault."
"Sure," muttered Harry. "Not my fault at all. Except that Voldemort never would have shown up there if I hadn't been there as well."
"If you blame yourself every time Voldemort kills someone in your vicinity, you're going to go mad."
"Maybe." He picked up the Prophet and started flipping through it. "You know," he said, suddenly, "after Dumbledore's death, they were coming out with loads of things about Snape. His family, his confession, what he looks like, all that... There's been loads of talk about Snape and how they're looking for him and everything. But, I haven't heard or seen anything about Draco."
"I noticed that as well," Remus agreed. "You're wondering why?"
"Well, yeah. I mean... he joined the Death Eaters. He was the one assigned to kill Dumbledore in the first place. He and Snape ran off together."
Remus' brow furrowed, as if trying to think of a way to explain something properly. "I... have to be honest with you, Harry. If Snape rejoined Voldemort imeadiately after leaving Hogwarts that night, then it's very likely that Draco is dead."
Harry's eyes snapped up from reading an article and focused intently on Remus. "What? But... it hasn't been reported or anything. I mean, they would have found his body."
"We've been checking the papers... Wizarding and Muggle both... for any suspicious information. Er... the Ministry isn't exactly holding Draco responsible for his actions."
"What?" Harry said, blankly.
Remus sighed. "They're blaming it on the pressure of his family. What with his father... well, you already know all about that. Besides, there's no tangible evidence to support that Draco even tried to murder Dumbledore, especially when Snape was the one who actually did it." After a beat, he continued, "As I said, there's a very good chance that Draco is already dead. He failed Voldemort, Snape had to complete his mission. If he is still alive, and the Ministry finds him, he'll be disciplined, definitely. But, unfortunately, the Malfoy name is still held in high regard by some, even if Lucius' is mud."
To say that Harry was infuriated would be an understatement. "That's bollocks," he said, darkly. Remus had to take the paper out of his hands before he ripped it.
"I know you're angry, Harry, and you have every reason to be," he told him, setting the Prophet aside. "But there's no good dwelling on it."
Harry knew he was right, but it still made him want to blow up the first thing that he saw. Stupid, bloody Ministry, he seethed. Old Wizarding family nonsense. What the hell are they playing at?
He went to bed that night angry and hungry, because he had been too intent on learning more spells that he had forgotten to eat. He was already missing Ron and Hermione and resolved to write to the both of them in the next few days to tell them about the latest Ministry injustice.
Unfortunately, he never got the chance. Three days later, everything went straight to hell. Harry was rudely awakened by Mrs. Black's screams a little before five in the morning due to someone pounding incessantly on the front door. He groaned, shoved on his glasses, and sleepily made his way into the hall. Both he and Remus arrived downstairs at the same time, and as Remus went to take care of the portrait, Harry opened the door, and before he could get out, "What the bloody hell is going on?" he was roughly shoved aside by Moody, who said absolutely nothing, and just shoved something in front of his face.
"Mad-Eye, what are you doing?!" Harry exclaimed, pushing what ended up being a newspaper away.
"Read it," he growled. He hadn't even bothered to shut the door. It was raining, and the wind was blowing it into the house. Moody was dripping a puddle onto the floor.
"Moody, it's not evening dawn," Harry said, angrily, snatching the paper out of his hands. He blinked at it. "Why have you got today's Prophet? It's too early-"
"Just fucking read it, Potter! Where's Lupin?"
But Harry had stopped listening, because he had just noticed the headline on the front page.
Dark Lord Takes Control of Azkaban, Wizarding World in Turmoil.
"What?" he said in disbelief. "What... No. That's impossible."
"Oh, it's possible. Haven't got the Dementors there anymore, do we? He's got them on his side, along with some of the giants. And that damned wolf. Happened in the middle of last night," Moody explained, gruffly, taking a swig from his hip flask.
Voldemort took over Azkaban, Harry thought, mind reeling. He numbly began trying to read the article. He got something about giants, like Moody had said, and that there had apparently been a riot in the prison caused by the captured Death Eaters. The prisoners had become guards and the guards had become prisoners. Voldemort, in a single night, had gained control of Wizarding Britain's most fortified structure.
"What in the blazes is going on?" Remus demanded, coming back from silencing Mrs. Black. "Mad-Eye, what are you doing here? And close that door! It's bloody cold!"
Harry mechanically handed the paper over to Remus and shut the door. Remus' reaction was exactly the same as Harry's.
"By Merlin," he gasped. "Is this true, Alastor?"
"Every damned word. It's happened. He's made his first move, and now he's got control of the prison. The Wizarding world's in turmoil, alright. Scrimgeour's... well, I won't be surprised if this makes him go off his rocket." He swore loudly. "That place was the most well guarded stronghold in Britain! And I'm not just talking about man power here, I mean spells. No one can figure out how he did it. Of course, he has that traitorous bastard on his side now."
"Why? Why does he need Azkaban?" Harry asked, finding his voice.
"Why wouldn't he? Think, Potter. Didn't I just say it was the strongest hold that we had strategically? If he control's Azkaban, he controls the people we put in there - guards and criminals both. He's got a place to put his own prisoners now. A place to meet, and plan. A place we can't get to. He'll have strengthened the wards around that place ten fold, and with Dark Magic. This is a major blow. A major blow."
"Can-can we recover? I mean... the Wizarding world as a whole?" Harry asked. "I don't... what does this mean? What's going to happen?" His mind was a whirlwind of confused questions. He kept repeating over and over again in his head, It's a dream. It's all just a dream...
"A lot is going to happen, Harry," Remus said, quietly, exchanging a knowing look with Moody. "Quite a lot. And I doubt that any one of us is going to like it."
"What do you mean?"
Remus opened his mouth to explain when he turned the page, and imeadiately shut it again.
"Oh, God, what else? Did someone die?" Harry asked, coming toward him.
"Yes," Remus stated.
Harry blinked at his openness. "Who?"
The werewolf looked back up at both he and Moody, evident surprise and confusion written on his face. "Narcissa Malfoy."
A/N: Obex is the Latin word for "barrier"; Obduco is the Latin word for "cover" or "lead against". So, my very loose and bad translation would be "to cover in a barrier".