Chapter 10: Truths
It was Sunday evening, and Harry and Ginny were sprawled, respectively, in an arm chair and on a couch in the sitting room of their newly acquired living space. Sirius was absent, probably in the company of a woman—whether at Hogwarts or in Hogsmeade, Harry preferred to remain ignorant of. He hardly cared, however; his godfather's nonattendance allowed for some much-appreciated time alone with Ginny, whose presence Harry was still adjusting too.
"So," said Harry, stretching his long legs out before him and yawning a little, "how're Ron and Hermione?"
Ginny grinned. "They've gotten their own flat—the day after you left, actually; apparently they'd been planning it for a while. It's a tiny little space, smelled horrid when they first moved in…they could afford better, really, now Ron's working with George, but Hermione insists on paying half and she's broke. 'Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures'—she still says the whole name every time she has anything to say about it, it's infuriating. 'Course, Ron says it's endearing…"
Harry snickered.
"Ron's talking about going into training to be an Auror," added Ginny, which Harry already knew; he nodded. "And anyways, George is thinking of franchising…stepping back from the actual work…running it all from a distance…"
"How is George?"
Ginny sighed. "He's…all right. Getting along. No change, really, since you've left. He's just kind of…there…without having any interest in being there."
Harry winced and was quiet for a moment. Then, "How long have I been gone?"
Ginny grinned again, more broadly now. "Two weeks. It took that long for us—Ron, Hermione, and me—to get McGonagall to tell us where you'd went. Hermione said I'd better hurry up and go, or you'd be back already." She laughed.
Harry, considering, didn't join her. "But doesn't that prove Dumbledore's theory? For the spell to work, you have to use a memory, which means that I'll be using yours to get back if you came from a time two weeks ahead of when I left…which means you must've been coming all along…"
His voice faded. Ginny laughed again, then cocked her head thoughtfully, lifting her slender form up onto one elbow. "How're things going here? I mean—you were pretty…distant…when you left, and…"
Harry was quiet for a moment, biting his lip. "I dunno," he said at last. "When I came here—well, I was looking for a break, of course. I hated the whole Harry Potter mania. But, see…see, the thing is—and don't take this as, er, arrogance—I'd gotten used to it, mostly, over the years. Being famous. People whispering about me. And here—well, here people don't know or care who I am, and it's…"
"Aggravating?"
"No, not really. Just really odd. It's a completely different life, here.
"But that's not even what's so strange. I've wanted to be anonymous since I was eleven. You know, I really came here because I wanted to see everybody again—my mum and dad, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore…but everything is so…different…from what I expected…." He shook his head, trying to order his thoughts. "I guess I was kind of expecting a huge reunion, to be accepted, to be a son and a friend and a student again. But I'm not. I'm just a—a teacher, and a suspicious one at that." He smiled ruefully.
Ginny nodded her understanding. "Are things really so weird with the Marauders? I saw them watching us all through lunch… It's odd, seeing them, alive and young—younger than us."
Harry shrugged. "Sirius has taken to stalking me. I think he set Peter on me, too. Lily thinks I'm evil, Remus is just there—he's a pretty dull student, keeps his nose too clean—and James ignores me. It's so—"
"Aggravating?" supplied Ginny again, grinning.
Harry laughed. "Yes!"
Ginny rolled over onto her back, luxuriously stretching long legs bared by the shortness of her skirt. Harry watched her, his eyes half-lidded, thinking. He was remembering his final year at Hogwarts, when he and Ginny—who had been tutored by Hermione over the summer on the work missed in the months she had spent in hiding—had been in the same year, studying together, playing Quidditch together, recovering after the losses of the war—together. He sighed, very slightly; but she heard, and turned her head to glance at him. Their gazes met, serious, solemn, a little sad.
"Is it weird—me being here?" she asked softly.
"Yes," said Harry truthfully.
They were quiet for a bit. "It was always weird, wasn't it?" she murmured. "I had a crush on you—was in love with you—for years…then there was Cho...Merlin, I hated her…"
Harry chuckled softly. "Then I was in love with you. And then there was war, and we couldn't be together…"
"…and then our final year of Hogwarts, and we were both trying so hard to be friends…"
They sighed together. "In fact," said Ginny, smiling a little, "the only time it wasn't weird was when we were together."
There was an opening there that a slug couldn't miss, but Harry, partly from two years' habit, partly from cowardice, partly from residual depression over his present plight, and partly for some huge, unnamable reason, was silent. Ginny watched him, her head cocked slightly so that he thick red hair fell in a long waterfall to lay in coils on the couch; and her face carried an expression of some understanding, but mostly disappointment.
-/-
"We are here," said Sirius, his posture immaculate, his voice deep and laughably noble, "to hold—"
"—again—" muttered James sulkily.
Sirius glared. "To hold —ahem—a Conference of War."
"Session of Stratagem," persisted Remus stubbornly.
"It's almost midnight," moaned Peter, who, with Lily in the fourth seat usually reserved for him, was seated on the bare stone floor.
"You're free to leave, I'm sure," said Lily coldly, who had Astronomy in half an hour and hardly cared about the time. Peter lapsed into sullen silence.
"Could everybody just shut up?" growled Sirius. "Honestly, people—we need a plan of action. I for one refuse to go to Azkaban. And James, you know I'd prefer if you didn't die in five years…"
"Hear, hear," said Remus.
"'Course, we don't know what happens to you, Moony, or to Wormy here—but I'm sure Exx knows. He must know everything about us—including when we die, how to prevent it, how to prove myself innocent."
"Hold that thought!" said James suddenly. "Moony, quill and parchment, quick! I just had the best idea for next Saturday's game—"
"Prongs! Honestly! You're going to die! Do you care? Dead! Gone! Your son will grow up to be a berk—I'll go to Azkaban—and all you care about is next Saturday's Quidditch game with Slytherin? …Though, by the way, make sure tell Perdinns to fly low, he was above you for half the game last time—"
Lily laughed.
Remus rolled his eyes. "Yes, the concern for your fates truly is phenomenal. But you know, if you want to learn anything, you're thinking all wrong. You're discounting things. Think."
Everyone was silent.
"Well, really," said Remus, looking a little flustered by the attention being showed to him. "This new girl—the redhead. There's no open teaching positions—and I doubt she's old enough to teach, anyways. Well, while Lott and Exx are in class, we go and find her."
There was a moment's quiet reflection. Then— "Of course! Moony, you're brilliant!" cried Sirius. "I'll seduce the redhead to draw the information from her—"
"Oh, please," snorted Lily.
"You're a dog," said James.
"Not what I had in mind," agreed Remus dryly. "No…we'll make it out to be some sort of welcoming gesture. They don't know we know, right? We'll surprise her—wheedle it out of her…."
"Then sleep with her!" said Sirius triumphantly.
Remus rolled his eyes again. "If Plan A doesn't work, you can have the first turn."
-/-
Remus, Lily, James and Sirius all had Monday morning off; Peter had Herbology and Muggle Studies, which were soundly agreed upon by the rest of the Marauders to be the dullest subjects. They were supposed to be "effectively utilizing" their free time and reviewing; instead, they were trying to locate the mysterious redhead whose name, they had inquired after that morning, was Ginny, and all the while wishing they had the Marauders' Map.
It was Lily who found her in the library, taking a long, secret moment to study the girl's extensive beauty: her long, slender, shapely legs; the flat stomach hinted at by the tightness of her elegant, coyly concealing top; her great masses of red hair; her flawless pale skin; her large grey eyes. Lily was quite oblivious to her own loveliness, and felt a slight twinge of envy for this stranger.
Then she snuck away, found Sirius in a moment, then, with his scenting as a dog—which she found highly amusing—Remus, and lastly James. Swiftly they backtracked to the library, where Ginny still sat, one leg crossed over the other, in a red armchair in a corner by the Restricted Section.
"Hullo," said Sirius cheerfully, moving into her sight from behind the bookshelf where the four had been watching her; behind him came Lily, James and Remus.
She glanced up, calmly, unflustered, and her blank look changed swiftly to a broad smile. "Hullo," she said amicably.
"We wanted to, ah, welcome you—to Hogwarts."
"I'm sure you did," she said dryly. She carefully closed the book she had been reading, marking her place with an index finger, and sat a little taller, pushing the hair from her face with her free hand. The volume's back was turned up; Lily would've liked to know its title.
"But really," said Remus, his face uncharacteristically earnest, "James and Lily here are Head Boy and Girl. It's our duty to come say hello—show you around the school—"
"Oh, that's all right," she said. "Really."
"Are you sure you wouldn't like a tour?" said Sirius, leaning casually toward her, his voice thick with persuasiveness; Lily, watching his profile, saw him wink.
Ginny laughed. "Sirius, that is disturbing on far too many levels." Then, so subtly Lily barely noticed it, a tiny tinge of color appeared in her fair cheeks. Had she realized she had slipped up, showing her knowledge of the boy's name?
"Ha!" Sirius's charm was gone in an instant. "Would that have anything to do with how familiar you are with my future, horrifically aged self?"
There was so little hesitation that Lily, who had lived and worked alongside the Marauders for years, was impressed. "Future self?" she said bewilderedly.
"Sirius Black," said James with the cold patience of an annoyed professor, "the bearded one. And Harry Potter—my, er…son."
Ginny's eyes narrowed. Lily, having patrolled for years as a Prefect, recognized that she was calculating, considering. Then, with a tiny snort, she let her posture slip and collapsed back into her chair. "For Merlin's sake—did they tell you?"
"More or less," said Sirius smugly.
Ginny glared at him, all cold disdain. "I like your future self much better. The Sirius I know isn't such a—"
"Man-whore?" suggested James, grinning.
Ginny laughed, then looked surprised that she had. "He probably lost it—" she began, but stopped herself.
"After twelve years spent in Azkaban?" supplied Sirius quietly.
Ginny looked startled, then, rather reluctantly, nodded. "How much do you all know? Do they know you know? And—" her eyes narrowed again as she examined each one of the youths before her and then the space around them "—where's Wormtail? Er—Peter Pettigrew?"
"Class," said Remus. "So, tell us—why was Sirius sent to Azkaban?"
Ginny winced. "Er…I'd rather not say. And I think you'd rather not know." She looked up at them, sighed, drew her wand and with a single swift spell called four chairs into existence. "Sit down," she said. "I have the feeling that this will take a while."
They did, but refused to be dissuaded. "Why was Sirius sent to Azkaban?" demanded James.
She studied them. "You really want to know?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Sirius.
She bit her lip. "Well…listen. That's far more Sirius and Harry's business than mine. Just…talk to them. On that note—why haven't you talked to them?"
The exchanged glances.
"Well…" said Sirius, rather shiftily.
"Because…" began James, then stopped.
"They don't like them very much," said Remus confidingly in a stage whisper.
Ginny blinked. "Why?"
"Lily doesn't like them because she thinks they're twisted," explained Remus as Lily blushed. "James—"
"Twisted?" cried Ginny. "For Merlin's sake—why?"
"Exx—er, Harry—was going to have Lott perform the Cruciatus Curse on him," said Lily sullenly. "For a reward to a student! It's sick. Who does that?"
Ginny laughed merrily. Was she laughing at her? wondered Lily, who was developing a horrific inferiority complex. "But he's immune," said Ginny. "It doesn't hurt him at all. He just jerks around a bit. Surely he told you that?"
"How is he immune, though?" said Sirius eagerly, leaning forwards in his chair.
Ginny winced. "Uh…that's more along the lines of Harry's business, too. It has to do with…no, I can't even tell you that. Listen, do you have all morning off?"
They nodded. Ginny paused a moment, considering, then fished a single galleon from her pocket, holding it still in her flat palm for a moment. The Marauders and Lily watched her, uncertain, as she once again drew her wand and applied magic—though of what kind, they didn't know—to the coin.
"Er—" said Sirius uncertainly.
She smiled at him. "It's from a club Harry started in his fifth year—a Defense club, when Voldemort was once again at large but nobody believed his story, and our Defense professor wouldn't teach us so much as a Shield Spell. If I alter this coin, his will burn, and he'll know I'm trying to contact him. Hopefully he still has his… It was a very secret society," she said in answer to their perplexed expressions. "Harry was almost expelled when they found out."
"Er…what d'you mean?" said James. "'Voldemort once again at large but nobody believed his story'?"
She grinned at them, mockingly. "So you're wondrous spying hasn't gained you that much, after all!" She laughed. "You know you die—but not how, or when, or where? What's the good in that?"
"Can you tell us anything?" said Sirius snappishly.
Her eyes were merrily sly. "I can tell each of you your fates. Who you marry, if you do; when you die, to the day—"
"We all die?" exclaimed Remus.
She blushed. "I was going to add 'if you do in the next twenty-five years.' Listen—I never really got—I've never really gotten—to know any of you very well…except maybe you, Remus, and even that is a shaky statement. Harry knows you, Sirius was your friend—let them explain. What time is it?"
Remus blinked at the abrupt shift in conversation. "It's—ten after twelve," he said, and blinked again in surprise.
"Well, if Harry got my message, he should be here fairly soon," she said, and, opening her book, settled back in her chair with the finality of 'case closed'. The four studied her, rather put off, but obediently waited in silence, if a sullen one.
They arrived some twenty minutes'—though it seemed like several hours'—forced silenced later. Ginny heard Harry's quick, sharp steps a good thirty seconds before he could be seen, and sat up; the others glanced at her, then behind them, and half-rose. Harry, his face anxious, froze at the sight of the five of them, his expression shifting sluggishly to one of great bewilderment. Sirius said "Oi!" at his godson's sudden halt before coming alongside him and stopping too.
Harry recovered quickly, but he avoided the Marauders', and especially Lily's, eyes. "We need to spell locations onto these coins." He addressed Ginny alone, a little sulkily; he clearly didn't find this particular surprise to be enjoyable. "We've been looking for you for fifteen minutes."
"I'll get right on that," said Ginny dryly. "Sit down, you two," she added, drawing her wand once more and causing another two chairs to form from nothingness.
They did, slowly and reluctantly. "What's going on here?" said the elder Sirius, directing his question, with the slightest note of condemnation, at Ginny.
"Well—" began Ginny, then stopped. She glanced at the four students and shrugged. "Go on," she instructed them. "It's not my affair."
The younger Sirius scowled at her, leaving James to take a deep breath and say, "We know you're from the future."
There was a moment of petrified blankness—then Harry shot out of his chair like a human rocket, shaking, opening his mouth once or twice—finally he whirled towards Ginny and shouted, angrily, almost desperately, "You told them?"
"Excuse me?" gasped Ginny. "You—"
"QUIET BACK THERE!" roared the surprisingly ferocious voice of Madame Pince, whose admonition had an oddly calming effect on all parties. Harry sank back into his chair.
The elder Sirius was cleaning under a thumbnail, chuckling softly. Harry turned on him, opening his mouth to snap at him, then closed his jaw shut so suddenly his teeth clacked audibly. "You knew," he growked after a moment.
Sirius looked up, grinning. "'Course I did," he said happily. "From the moment I got Dumbledore's letter…" he laughed.
Harry scowled, thought of Sirius's apparent shock in Rosmerta's, and allowed his scowl to deepen. Before it had quite faded, he turned to the four Gryffindors ranged before him and asked, bracingly, "How much do you know?"
They exchanged a glance.
"We know that you're our son," said James at last, meeting Harry's gaze squarely, almost challengingly. "And that Voldemort will kill us when you're one."
"I know that he's me," said the younger Sirius, gesturing to his elder self, who grinned shamelessly at him, an expression that his teenaged counterpart haughtily ignored. "I know that I'll be your godfather, that I'll spend twelve years in Azkaban, go into hiding, die before you're nineteen and only then have my name cleared."
"You've been spying," said Harry emotionlessly.
"'Course," said both Siriuses and James at once.
Harry glared at each of them and then, unable to restrain himself, smiled, shaking his head. He sat back down. "Here," he said suddenly, reaching into his robe's pocket. "I'm sure you'll make better use of it, anyways." He tossed the Marauder's Map into his seventeen-year-old father's lap.
"I missed this," murmured James, lifting it and smiling fondly down upon the worn parchment. "Thanks. I'm—well, glad you found this—find this." He grinned suddenly. "I'd hate to think—"
"—that your son never finds any of the secret passageways out of the school? That what Remus here'll tell me in twenty or so years."
James and Remus glanced at each other, startled. "Do I give it to you?" said Remus.
Harry laughed. "Nah—you confiscate it, in my third year, when you're teaching at Hogwarts."
"What?" cried his godfather, sitting bolt upright. "He never told me that part. Confiscating the Map from a Marauder's son—the mutt!"
"I seem to remember the incident being at least vaguely related to you," said Harry mildly, grinning. Sirius scowled over at him.
"What's this?" The younger Black leaned forwards eagerly, sensing that they were at last nearing the unveiling of his future. "'Something to do with'—me? Go on!"
There was a hesitation.
"Sirius?" said Harry reluctantly, glancing at his godfather.
"Sure, go ahead—tell all," he answered. "If I'm ever going to get a laugh out of twelve years in Azkaban, it's now. In fact—leave it, mate, I'll go on." He grinned broadly at his younger self, the well-loved, well-groomed youth, with his loyal friends and petty enemies, and his smile faltered; and when he continued, his voice was no longer lighthearted. "Twelve years in Azkaban," he said softly. "Sentenced without trial for fifteen lifetimes for the murders of twelve Muggles, Peter Pettigrew, and collaboration in the deaths of Lily and James Potter."
There was a shocked silence, far more terrible than Harry or his godfather could have anticipated, broken at last by the horrified, bewildered splutter from the younger Sirius: "What?"
"He—you—were innocent, of course," said Harry quickly.
"But it took everybody twelve years to figure that out?" Sirius exclaimed angrily. "What about Moony here?"
"There was, ah, compelling evidence," his professor self said delicately. "He was the first one to believe me, though, after he got past the idea that I'd escaped to get revenge on Harry for Voldemort's downfall—"
"Wait, what?" gasped Lily, cutting him off. It was the first time she had spoken in nearly an hour.
"Oh—right," said the elder Sirius, glancing slyly at his godson. "Harry, here, has thwarted our favorite Lord Voldemort—if my tally and his tales are correct—nine times, the first when he was just one."
Harry—along with several of his companions—frowned; he didn't see much amusing in those encounters, and it showed on his face as he gazed at his adolescent mother. "I was one," he restated quietly. "There was a prophecy made that a child would be born at the end of July with the power—or the ability, rather—to overthrow Voldemort. He heard of it…hunted you—us—down…" He took a deep breath. "He killed James first, just inside the door…came up the stairs, to the nursery…he told you that you didn't have to die, gave you the choice to stand aside, but you refused. He killed you… But you had died to save me, and it was a magic that gave me almost limitless protection from him… And when he tried to kill me, he was destroyed. Or at least," he gave a bitter little laugh, "his body was."
Lily was crying quietly. James shot Harry a quick, halfhearted glare—how dare you make her cry?—and went to kneel beside her chair. The younger Sirius watched them for several long moments, looking vaguely dumbstruck. "Do we all die?" he murmured at last.
Harry, his godfather and Ginny traded a long look. Both of the former looked as though they could give no more bad news, so it was Ginny, rather awkwardly, who answered at a nod from her companions.
"Yes," she said quietly. "Sirius, you're killed by Bellatrix Lestrange—your cousin. Voldemort finishes off Peter, and Remus, you die just a little before Voldemort—Antonio Dolohov, a Death Eater, kills you."
The fact that Voldemort, murderer and oppressor, would someday be killed made little difference to the horror-struck teenagers. It was then that Sirius, the younger one, gave the weakest chuckle of his life. "Well, at least Moony lives longest," he said, leaning over and giving Remus a sort of pat—it was most likely meant to be a jocular slap—on the shoulder. "It would be him. Maybe if we all turned to honest schoolwork and repented our many pranks, we'd each get an extra five years."
Nobody even made an effort to laugh at this, though Lily had stopped crying. The teenaged Sirius stared at them, then stood abruptly, scowling.
"Stop it—all of you!" he yelled angrily, not faltering at Pince's distant bellow. "Everybody knows they'll die someday—what's it matter that we know who'll kill us or when? Lily, quit blubbering" —though she'd already stopped— "and everybody, stop looking so—so—"
"Woebegone?" supplied his older self casually.
He blinked. "Well, yes," he finished rather lamely, and sat back down, frowning.
Harry cleared his throat following a short pause. "I agree with the Siriuses," he said, and grinned briefly at his own wording. "It's not as though the rest of your lives will be horrible. You two'll get married, after Lily hated you for so long—"
"Oi!" said James. "How'd you know that?"
Harry smirked at them with immature delight. "Found out from Snape's memories," he said smugly.
"Excuse me?" cried all four students at once.
Ginny and Harry burst out laughing at their scandalized expressions, but the professor Sirius crossed his arms and scowled sullenly. "He's a hero in our time," explained Harry. "One of the great heroes of the war against Voldemort…he died in the final battle. Order of Merlin, First Class. I accepted it on his behalf."
There were multiple shocked splutters.
"Harry lobbied for it," added Ginny, grinning.
"Traitor!" cried James.
"Oh, quit," said Harry, showing real distaste for his teenaged father for the first time. "We would've lost the war several times over if it weren't for him. And don't be such a hypocrite, Lily—you two were best friends for years."
She and James, who still knelt at her side, shot identical glares at him. Harry sighed. "If it makes you feel any better, he always hated me. He said I was as arrogant as my father, Merlin, hundreds of times. He taught me Potions," he elaborated, "and nearly failed me every year."
"That does make me feel better, actually," said James coldly.
"Oh, stop," said Remus. "We have to go, anyways—class."
"We've missed lunch!" moaned the teenaged Sirius. Both his and his counterpart's stomachs gave twin snarls of hunger. It was too much; everybody burst out laughing, then stood reluctantly. Ginny rid them of the chairs she had created.
"What now?" said James, looking at his professor—his son. He was struck, suddenly, by the depth of the lines worn around his mouth, into his forehead, at the corners of his eyes; by the horrific memories reflected in the emerald of his eyes; by the many disasters that had struck this man, and even more by the poise with which he bore them. He felt suddenly ashamed of the fear he had shown in the face of his own death. How many times, he wondered, had this boy-hero nearly died, nearly seen those he loved die?
"What now?" Harry echoed slowly. "Nothing, I guess. I'm your professor. I'm certainly not your son yet, no matter what I'll be in four years. I still have to teach you to make a decent Patronus, and you still have to hand in your essay on the Unforgivable Curses."
"About that…" began the younger Sirius.
Everyone grinned, except Harry, who merely shrugged. "I'll admit…I'll admit I came here wanting nothing more than to see the men—and woman—who would, and still do, haunt me for so many years. But—and this isn't an insult—you're just teenagers, just schoolchildren, not heroes at all. Not my heroes."
The four looked blankly at him, wondering if they should be hurt by that or not. Harry hesitated, regarding them soberly, then sighed. "I have fourth-year Hufflepuffs now," he said. "You, too, Sirius."
He and his godfather strode through the others and away into innumerable books. They heard, distantly, Harry giving an excuse to Pince for the noise, and then—silence.
"Well," said Ginny.
"How much did that really clear up?" mused Remus, still watching the aisle between which his professors had passed.
Ginny took it upon herself to answer. "He gets like that sometimes. Since he was just a kid, people have expected him to be a hero. The worst part is that he does it. The hero act, I mean. He saves people, and saves people, and kills Voldemort—and still people want more of him. He says he came here for you four," she said, "but he really just wanted a break. Don't ask too much of him."
Sirius appeared to disregard all of this when he asked, the moment she had finished, "Are you two together?" Remus stepped on his foot, hard, beneath their robes, but Sirius ignored him.
She blinked. "Pardon?"
"Together. A couple. Snogging. Whatever."
For a moment it looked as though she might hex him. Then—and she wasn't sure, at that time or in the days afterward, why she answered as she did—she said, "Yeah. Why?"
Sirius didn't answer. James, looking sideways at him, was shocked to see the briefest indication of true disappointment on his best friend's face, and frowned.
Ginny, for one, didn't seem to notice. "Excuse me," she said pointedly. "I have reading to do."
Only Lily, who cast a last lingering glance backwards as she exited with her friends, noticed the title on the redhead's book: One Thousand Curses to Vanquish the Evil. Well, well, well, she thought as she trotted to catch up to James, who held a hand out to grasp her own. If Voldemort is gone in her time, why read that? It seems we have another mystery. She smiled suddenly. She was becoming far too much of a Marauder for her own good.
----
Readers!! I am so sorry—again—about how long it took to post. This time it wasn't even laziness or lack of access to a computer…I forgot my notebook, which had half this chapter in it, at the public library!! Ugh. I got it back—obviously—but it took four days because of the library being closed and my dad being unable to drive me. So, sorry. Anyways, while I was without the notebook, I started in on Chapter 11 already…
I'm also sorry that nothing much happened in this chapter, except a helluva lotta talking. I meant to begin some Death Eater hunting, but you see how that turned out. Next time, next time…
And, finally, in my sweetest, kindest, most persuasive and winning voice…Review, please.