Disclaimers and other info in Prologue
WARNING: Major spoilers for all five Harry Potter books!
...is indistinguishable from magic. – Arthur C. Clarke
CHAPTER 11 – InsightsVery early Thursday morning, Bruce was awakened by Professor Dumbledore's loud voice in his ear. He immediately snapped to full awareness, wondering how the old Headmaster had managed to enter his room, much less get all the way to his bed, without alerting him. Momentarily confused when he saw no one in the room, Bruce realized it was only a magical message when he heard the voice repeat itself.
"All teachers please come at once to the staff room for a meeting."
The message continued to 'replay' as Bruce quickly dressed and left his room. In the hall between their rooms, he ran into Dick.
"Any idea how to shut this thing off?" Dick asked plaintively. Bruce shook his head, and so they hurried to the ground floor of the tower and along the castle corridors, with the summons still echoing in both their minds.
All of the other teachers were converging on the staff room. There was momentary chaos as they all tried to get through the door at once, but it was quickly sorted out. As Bruce entered the room, his gaze met Dumbledore's for an instant. The Headmaster nodded slightly and made an almost imperceptible gesture with his wand. The voice in Bruce's ears was cut off mid-word. The momentary relief on Dick's face as he took his seat showed that he, too, welcomed the sudden quiet.
Of course, 'quiet' was a relative term. The staff room was abuzz as teachers speculated to each other on the possible reasons for the sudden meeting. When Dumbledore stood up, however, every eye turned to him, and all conversation ceased. The Headmaster's face bore no trace of its usual affable expression. His eyes were sharp and cold, filled with mingled sadness and anger.
"I have received word that two more villages, both near Hadrian's Wall, were attacked last night. The inhabitants of both Tyneburn and Lambsdale were completely annihilated."
Gasps sounded throughout the room.
"But... Albus..." Professor Trelawney stammered, her voice for once completely devoid of dreamy affectation. "Tyneburn had a sizable wizard population! Surely they weren't..." Her voice trailed off as she saw him sadly nodding.
"Yes, Sibyll, they were. Wiped out to the last man, woman and child."
The silence in the room reverberated from the rafters.
"How many dead, Albus?" Professor Vector barely managed to choke out the question.
"Four hundred seventy-three in Tyneburn; five hundred sixteen in Lambsdale."
The teachers sat stunned. Tears were dripping down several faces.
"I regret that I had to break this news so suddenly, but it will undoubtedly be prominently featured in this morning's Daily Prophet, and as several of our students receive that publication, I thought it was best that you be informed." Dumbledore took a deep breath. "If there are no further questions, I suggest–"
"Headmaster..." Professor Flitwick's high-pitched, squeaky voice interrupted him.
"Yes?"
"Maybe this isn't the time to bring it up, but... seeing as we're all together here... surely you're aware... I really think we need to discuss..." Flitwick paused uncertainly for a moment, then went on.
"The rumors flying about the school the past few days... all the students are talking about it... I'm sure there will be owls arriving from parents soon... after the damage to Hogwarts' reputation last year–"
"What are you talking about?" Professor McGonagall snapped, her patience wearing thin.
"Why, about Professor Johnson being a Muggle, of course."
Every head in the room turned to Flitwick, and then swiveled to stare at Dick, who managed to look appropriately shocked at the accusation. Dumbledore sighed.
"Come, come, now. Surely we all have better things to do at this point than listen to rumors. I believe we–"
"Headmaster." This time the interruption came in Professor Snape's oily voice. Dumbledore turned to him.
"You have a suggestion, Severus?"
"I do, Headmaster. It would seem this difficulty has its own built-in solution." Snape smirked unpleasantly at Dick. "All Professor Johnson would need to do is to disprove the rumor by performing some simple magic. Perhaps he could demonstrate something for us right now." Dick drew breath to respond, but Dumbledore held up his hand.
"You are quite right, Severus. But a demonstration to the staff will not do at all. The students, unfortunately, will not all accept the teachers' word on such a serious matter. A simple declaration from us will not be sufficient to quash such a rumor. No, this must be a public demonstration...this evening, I think, in front of the entire school, so that none can continue to doubt."
Snape's smirk broadened to a triumphant grin.
"Now, if no one else has anything... no? Good. Then let us all proceed with the day." The teachers rose, leaving the staff room in twos and threes. Dick hung back to speak to Dumbledore.
"Headmaster," Dick said quietly, when there were none left in the room but himself, Bruce and Dumbledore. "I found out the other night that I actually can fly on a broom, so we really don't need to do the aerial demonstration we discussed earlier."
"Ah, so young Mr. Drake is not the only wizard among you! I had wondered about that, I admit. And can you also handle a broomstick, Bruce?" Bruce nodded. Dumbledore sighed in relief. "After today's news, it probably is just as well." Then his face fell. "But must we really cancel the performance? I was so looking forward to it."
Dick had to laugh in spite of the gravity of the situation. Dumbledore looked exactly like... well, like a kid who had just been told his trip to the circus had been cancelled.
"No, Headmaster. If you really want to see it, and are still willing to help me, we don't have to cancel it." Dumbledore smiled.
"Thank you, Richard. Sometimes it is the smallest joys that give us the strength we need to go on in dangerous times. Now, let us go appreciate another small joy – that of breakfast." He motioned them towards the doorway, and the three of them walked together to the Great Hall.
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After all the students had seated themselves, Professor Dumbledore rose to address the school.
"It has come to my attention that there is a vicious rumor circulating in the school. Rumors and gossip are detrimental to the process of education, so it will be necessary to do something about them. To that end, there will be an event in the Quidditch stadium this evening at eight o'clock. Attendance is mandatory for everyone, staff and students alike." He sat down, and reached for the platter of eggs.
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The swoosh of soft wings heralded the usual arrival of the morning mail. To Tim's surprise, Midnight landed in front of him and held out her leg. He removed the note and opened it, while Midnight snatched a sausage from his plate before fluttering off.
"Bruce and Dick need–" Tim's quiet voice was interrupted by Hermione's gasp.
"Oh, my gosh!"
"Hermione, what is it? What's happened?" Worried questions came from the Gryffindors seated around her. She lifted the Daily Prophet so they could all see the headline.
HUNDREDS OF WIZARDS, MUGGLES KILLED IN DOUBLE ATTACK!She turned the paper back around and skimmed the article, reading the major points out loud in a choked voice. Cries of shock and outrage from nearby students punctuated her account. They were echoed by similar horrified exclamations scattered throughout the Great Hall, as other students read their newpapers aloud – although Harry noted that none of this horror seemed to come from the Slytherin table.
"The villages of Tyneburn and Lambsdale, both near Hadrian's Wall... unprovoked attack... all human life obliterated... almost a thousand people dead... four hundred seventy-three people in Tyneburn, including over one hundred wizards... five hundred sixteen in Lambsdale... Ministry of Magic looking into the matter..."
Snorts of disgust greeted this last bit of information.
"Looking into it, right! Overlooking it, more bloody likely!" Dean Thomas scoffed. "They've made a right mess of this all along!" Nodding heads up and down the table showed that he had summed up the feelings of most of his fellow Gryffindors.
It was a subdued group of students who trooped out of the Great Hall to head for class.
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Harry arrived at the door of Dick's classroom at eleven-thirty that morning. He walked in the door to find both Bruce and Dick waiting.
"Who else is coming?" Bruce asked. Harry shrugged.
"No one. Tim and Hermione have Arithmancy right after lunch, and Ron has a huge pile of homework."
"So why don't you have a huge pile of homework?" Dick asked, with a quirk of his lips.
"I did mine last night," Harry said simply. "So what did you need us for?"
"You didn't read the note?"
"Tim didn't show it to us. He just said that you needed someone to help you this afternoon."
"Well," Dick began. "We need to find a location, reasonably close to Hogwarts, but outside the ban on technology, where we can set up a base of operations. We need to do some research, if we're going to find a way to stop Voldemort."
Harry thought a moment. "What sort of location would you need?"
"An abandoned building, a cave, something of that sort," Bruce answered.
Harry thought some more. "Well, it seems like the best way to do this would be from the air."
They looked at him.
"You mean by broom?" Bruce asked. "How would we avoid being seen?"
"Broomstick. You're trying to blend in, right? Wizards call them broomsticks," Harry corrected. "We'll use mine and Ron's, and we'll borrow a school broomstick. As far as not being seen goes, I can Disillusion us."
"You can what?" Dick asked.
"Disillusionment Charm. It sort of... turns us into human chameleons, I guess would be the best way to put it. We blend into the background."
"Huh. Bruce, we need to learn how to do that. Think of how handy it'd come in back in Gotham!"
Bruce ignored Dick's last comment. "Let's go."
"You want to go now, or you want to wait till after lunch?" Harry asked.
"We'd better go now," Dick said. "We don't know how long it'll take to find what we need, and I have to be back for the performance tonight."
"Performance?"
"I'll explain on the way."
"OK," Harry said. "I need to get the broomsticks, so I'll meet you at the foot of your tower in... fifteen minutes."
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Dick and Bruce were waiting in the shade of their tower when Harry appeared right in front of them, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak. Bruce raised an eyebrow.
"I thought you said you could Disillusion us."
Harry looked at him. "I thought this was supposed to be secret. How else was I supposed to get through the school unnoticed while carrying three broomsticks, not to mention this?" He held out a shoulder bag, which contained food and water.
Bruce scowled and held out his hand. Harry handed him the school broomstick, giving Dick Ron's Cleansweep. Then Harry pulled out his wand and tapped each of them on the head in turn. Dick made a face.
"Yuk. That feels gross."
Harry smiled. "Yeah, I know. But look down at yourself." Dick did. He saw the green lawn through a very faint outline of himself.
"Huh." He raised a hand to touch the wall of the tower, observing that his hand and arm took on the appearance of rough brownish stone. "So how do we keep track of each other?"
"Corona Charm."
"Excuse me?"
"Aurora Luminari!" Still looking at his hand, Dick saw it begin to glow faintly blue. He glanced down at himself to see the dim aura surrounding his entire body. He looked back at Harry, who shone faintly green.
"That'll work."
"If you're completely done admiring yourself..." Bruce's acerbic comment came out of a muted silver shimmer.
"Hold on a sec... Exaudio! OK, we can go now."
"I take it that one allows us to hear each other without yelling," Bruce said, as he mounted the broomstick and kicked off.
"That's right." Harry sounded as if he were right beside Bruce, instead of a barely-visible green glow flying fifty feet to Bruce's right.
"Dick?"
"Read you loud and clear, boss."
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"There's a possible cave at eleven o'clock."
Bruce and Harry swung their broomsticks slightly to the left at Dick's call. They had been flying for more than two hours, scanning the steep, rocky hills and narrow valleys surrounding Hogwarts, landing several times to investigate likely spots. So far, none had proved satisfactory – at least to Bruce. They were too small, too open, or otherwise unsuitable.
This one was a little different. It appeared to be a shadow, overgrown with brush and scraggly trees, halfway up a hillside so steep that for all practical purposes, it might as well have been a cliff. There was a small outcropping of rock at its base. Upon flying closer, they could see that the shadow was indeed a hole in the rock.
"Harry, you've got the best broomstick control – can you land on that outcropping?" Bruce asked.
"Should be able to..." and Harry suited actions to words. His green glow showed brighter against the shadow for a moment, before it disappeared into the opening.
"Lumos!" A minute or two went by, while Bruce and Dick hovered next to the cliffside, before Harry's glow reappeared just inside the entrance.
"Hey, guys! If you're careful, you should be able to land on that ledge with no problem. I think this place might be exactly what you're looking for!"
"Go ahead, Dick."
"No offense, Bruce, but I think you should go first. That way, I can fly down and pick up the pieces if necessary." Bruce's response was a growl, but his silvery outline moved to approach the ledge.
Dick followed Bruce onto the landing and into the cave entrance, heading for the light from Harry's wand. Harry undid the Disillusionment and Audibility Charms, but he left the Corona Charm active to give them a little more light underground. Then he led them down a short passage and around a jutting mass of rock. Dick whistled in admiration. The echo came back to them from the far wall of an irregularly-shaped, spacious cavern. Bruce immediately began to cautiously explore.
"Very good, Harry. This looks like it will do nicely." He came back to where the other two waited.
"Now, Harry, I need something else from you." Uncharacteristically, Bruce hesitated for a moment before continuing, and a sympathetic expression came over his face. "I know this will be hard, but I need you to tell us, in detail, about your experiences and encounters with Voldemort and his followers."
Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wasn't surprised by the request – he had known it would come eventually. Batman needed to know about Voldemort if he was going to fight him effectively. But that wouldn't make reliving it any easier.
"It's a pretty long story. You might want to sit down. We can eat while I talk." He took his own advice, finding a spot on the stone floor where he could lean against the wall. Dick perched himself on a protruding rock spur, while Bruce sat cross-legged facing them.
"I don't know how much you guys already know," Harry began tentatively. Dick smiled at him encouragingly.
"Assume we don't know anything, and begin at the beginning. That way you won't leave anything out," he said. Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and began.
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Harry took another deep breath. He had been talking steadily for an hour and a half. He had told them about growing up with the Dursleys, and about how he had found out he was a wizard and learned the truth about his parents' deaths. He had described his first year at Hogwarts, and how he had saved the Sorcerer's Stone from Quirrell and Voldemort, inadvertently killing Quirrell in the process. About his second year, Tom Riddle's diary, the Chamber of Secrets, and the basilisk. And his third year, the dementors, and Sirius. His voice had choked up a little as he talked about how he had thought, for a little while, that he might have a real home, with someone who cared about him, until Pettigrew had escaped, and Harry's hopes had flown away with Sirius. He had had to stop and clear his throat before going on to his fourth year and the Triwizard Tournament. Bruce and Dick had questioned him very closely about the fake Professor Moody, the Polyjuice Potion, and especially what had happened in the graveyard – Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, the reunion of the Death Eaters, and the fight between him and Voldemort. They had been especially interested in Priori Incantatum, the result of the connection between his wand and Voldemort's. But the worst part was still to come. He still had to tell them about his fifth year.
He began by explaining why Dumbledore had insisted he return to the Dursleys every summer. He continued with the dementor attack in Little Whinging, and how that had resulted in his being removed to a place of safety. At this point he hesitated, unsure of exactly how much to reveal.
Dick seemed to see right to the heart of his indecision.
"It's all right – Professor Dumbledore has told us about the Order of the Phoenix," he said quietly.
Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It would have been extremely hard to tell them about the events of the past year without mentioning the Order.
He went on to describe the hearing at the Ministry of Magic, and how it had almost resulted in his expulsion. He had to work really hard to control his anger, as he described how the Daily Prophet, apparently acting on orders from the Ministry, portrayed him as a liar who would say anything to get fame and attention. Along with this, he told them all about Dolores Umbridge. Although she was not one of Voldemort's followers, somehow he felt it was important for them to know about her – setting the dementors on him, trying to get him expelled, refusing to teach the students any defensive magics, torturing him during detention, outlawing all student organizations, trying to get Professor Dumbledore arrested and his supporters fired – all the things she had used the power of her position to do the previous year.
Bruce nodded.
"The end justifies the means – it seems to be the motto of overzealous patriots the world over," he said. "They believe that any action they take to protect the government is justified, no matter who they hurt or whose rights are trampled."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Minister Fudge is the same way." He fell silent for a minute, until Bruce asked him to go on.
Harry explained how the students had formed an underground group, which they had called Dumbledore's Army, to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts magic. At Bruce's request, he demonstrated some of the defensive spells and charms that he, Hermione and Ron had taught to Tim the previous Sunday, along with some of the more advanced ones that he had taught to the DA. Dick was enthralled with Harry's Patronus.
"Harry, do you think you could teach me how to do that?" he asked eagerly.
"I could try," Harry said, a little doubtfully. "It's pretty advanced magic."
"But you said Tim was able to learn it, right? So I probably could, too."
"Okay. You take your – hang on – you need a wand, and you don't have one." Dick's face fell.
"Wait a minute, Harry," Bruce intervened. "Why does Dick need a wand?"
"Because he... because he... because he just... does!"
"What if he were to perform the spell without one?"
"How?" Harry was really confused now.
"Didn't you tell us about all the strange things you managed to make happen before you knew you were a wizard? You didn't need a wand for those."
"Yeah... and how about when you blew up your Aunt Marge?" Dick added.
Harry thought hard.
"Yeah... I guess so. But I didn't do those on purpose... they just... happened."
"If you can do some spells without a wand, it stands to reason that any spell can be performed without one," Bruce stated.
"All right." Harry submitted to Bruce's logic. "But I don't know how to teach Dick to do it."
"Just show him how you do it with a wand, slowly. Dick..." Bruce looked at Dick and waited. Dick recognized Bruce's teaching mode.
"I repeat the same hand motions without the wand, right?"
"Exactly."
"Actually, there isn't any particular motion for this spell," Harry noted. "You just raise your wand when you say the incantation. What you do, Dick, is come up with one really happy memory or thought. Then you focus all your attention on it. When it's the only thing in your head, then say the incantation Expecto Patronum." He demonstrated again, and the silvery stag erupted once more from Harry's wand.
"Now you try."
Dick's gaze seemed to turn inwards. Bruce smiled secretly. He recognized the look, having seen it many times as Dick was growing up. Robin had worn it every time he tried a new fighting or gymnastics maneuver.
After a moment, Dick's face cleared. A brilliant smile appeared on his face, and he held out his right hand.
"Expecto Patronum!" A bright silver shape blasted out of his fingertips.
All three of them stared for a moment, then Dick burst out in delighted laughter.
"Elinore!"
"It's certainly appropriate, you have to admit," Bruce said, his lips twitching. The glowing elephant raised its silver trunk and trumpeted silently, before reaching out to Dick. The tip of the trunk made a stroking motion next to Dick's cheek; then the elephant dissolved into silver mist.
Harry looked curiously at Dick.
"An elephant?"
Dick had tears in his eyes, although he was smiling even more brightly than before.
"I was a circus brat for the first nine years of my life, Harry, until my parents were killed and Bruce took me in. The three of us had a trapeze act. In fact, the memory I used for the spell was the first time I did a quadruple somersault. Anyway, Elinore was one of the circus elephants, but to me she was my pet and my friend. I used to ride her in the parade at every performance, and it was my special job to take care of her."
Harry nodded. "Makes sense, I guess. Bruce, you should probably try it, too." Before Bruce could object, he added, "Voldemort's got an army of dementors. You'd better be able to defend yourself."
For a moment, Bruce still looked like he wanted to object, but he knew Harry was right. He concentrated for a second, then held out his right hand as Dick had done.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A cloud of silver vapor issued from his fingertips, but it was tenuous and undefined, and quickly dissipated. Bruce's face set into an expressionless mask.
"I guess I'm not a strong enough wizard." Harry shook his head.
"That's the same thing that happened to me the first time I tried it," he said. "Professor Lupin said I hadn't used a strong enough happy memory. What were you thinking about?"
"My seventh birthday. I'd been wanting a pony for months, and my parents finally got me one."
"That probably wasn't strong enough. Patronuses seem to work best when the memory is really personal, and comes from deep inside."
Dick watched Bruce's face become even more set. He knew this would be hard, since Bruce was very uncomfortable with anything having to do with intense personal feelings. But he also knew Bruce would persist until he got it right. There was too much at stake.
Bruce exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. A minute later, he tried again.
"Expecto Patronum!"
The results were spectacular. A giant silver bat exploded from his hand, flapped around the cave, and vanished. Dick cheered.
"Much better!" Harry approved. "What memory did you use that time?"
Bruce hemmed and hawed for a moment, looking at the cave floor, before finally coming out with it.
"Dick, you probably won't even remember this. It was late spring, the year you turned eleven. I was standing on the terrace, talking to Alfred, and you were climbing one of the big trees on the lawn. You suddenly came flying out of the tree, charged up the steps, grabbed my hand, and dragged me over to see a nest of baby robins you'd found. I listened to you chattering a mile a minute, and I suddenly realized just how much light you'd brought into my life, and how happy I was that you were there."
Dick and Harry both stared at Bruce, who looked up just in time to see Harry sharply bite his lip and turn away to hide the tears welling in his own eyes. Bruce reached out and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"I know, Harry," he said softly. "Dick and I – we both know." Harry remained motionless for a few moments, before drawing in a shuddering breath.
"I guess I'd better tell you the rest of the story."
He took a long drink of water first. Then he told them about the dreams he had had, and how he had seen the attack on Arthur Weasley at Christmastime. How Professor Dumbledore had assigned Snape to teach him Occlumency. To his own surprise, he found himself admitting how he had hated Snape so much, and been so angry at Dumbledore, that he had neglected to practice, even though the dreams continued. He even told them how he had looked in the Pensieve – how shocked he had been to see his own father and Sirius bullying Snape, and how Snape had thrown him out afterwards. These were things he had never discussed with anyone before. But during the past few days, Tim had told the three Gryffindors a lot about Bruce and Dick, and somehow Harry knew that although the two vigilantes would not approve of his behavior, they would understand. Even though he had met them less than a week before, he felt comfortable talking to them, in a way he never had with anyone else except Sirius. And he had had all too few chances to ever really talk with Sirius. Even then, he had sometimes felt that Sirius hadn't seen him, as much as he had seen the shadow of James. At least Bruce and Dick saw him and accepted him as himself.
And now he was coming to the hardest part of the story. The part he could not forgive himself for.
He stared at the floor, clenched his fists, and told them about the dream of Sirius being caught and tortured by Voldemort. How the dream itself had been a trap. How he and his friends had been lured to the Ministry and the Department of Mysteries, only to be cornered by the Death Eaters. How the six teenagers had fought what seemed to be a hopeless battle, until the members of the Order of the Phoenix had come to their rescue. And...
His throat suddenly closed up on him. He was fighting to stay calm, when he felt a hand on his shoulder again, and looked up to see Dick's eyes, dark with empathy. Dick didn't say anything, and neither did Bruce. They simply waited until he could get himself under control enough to tell them about the battle in the Death Chamber.
As he described how Sirius had fallen through the Veil, and how Lupin had stopped him from trying to follow, he choked up again. This time, Dick wrapped a sympathetic arm around his shoulders.
That did it. He finally lost it, falling apart as he hadn't done since Sirius had died. For three months he had kept himself under rigid control, using anger and pride to keep his grief at bay. It wasn't working anymore. He might be a legend in the wizarding world, a hero to his classmates, but he was still a sixteen-year-old boy, without a single family member left who cared about him. And these were the only two people he had ever met who could truly understand what he was feeling. He buried his face in Dick's chest, his shoulders shaking. Dick simply held him, silently letting him cry himself out.
It was some time before the sobs eased off, and he could begin to think again. He lifted his head from Dick's shoulder, and Dick immediately let go of him. His nose was completely stuffed up, and he sniffed hard as he started searching through his pockets.
"Here." He looked up to see Bruce holding out a handkerchief to him.
"Thanks," he mumbled, taking the handkerchief and blowing his nose hard. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He felt drained, but somehow much calmer than he had been for a long time. It was weird – he didn't even feel embarrassed at his breakdown, although he would have felt totally humiliated if anyone else had seen it. He reached for his water bottle and took another long drink.
"Think you can keep going now?" Bruce asked gently. He nodded.
The rest of the story – Dumbledore's wand-to-wand battle with Voldemort, Voldemort's escape with Bellatrix Lestrange, Fudge's horrified comprehension, Dumbledore's return and his explanation of the prophecy – was quickly told. After Harry finished, Bruce looked thoughtful.
"That certainly gives us a lot of information to work with," he said. "Thank you, Harry. I want to bring Tim, Hermione and Ron here with us, sometime this weekend – I have a theory about magic that I'd like us all to discuss."
Dick suddenly straightened up.
"Uh-oh. What time is it?"
Bruce looked at his watch. A old-fashioned, purely mechanical chronograph, it had continued to work at Hogwarts. Dick's digital watch had been a casualty of the magical ban on technology.
"Six-fifteen."
"We'd better get moving – I've got a command performance tonight!" Harry looked at him, perplexed.
"You said you'd explain that earlier, but you never did. What performance?"
"Oh. Well, you remember on Monday, when Hermione was worried that Professor Snape would find a way to get back at me?"
"Yeah. The rumors?"
"Yeah. Well, Tim & I came up with the idea of me doing an aerialist performance – kinda like high-wire gymnastics, only using broom...sticks as gymnastic bars. Sort of... being able to fly without a broomstick. So I talked with Professor Dumbledore about it that evening, and he agreed that would probably work. He said he didn't think anyone here would have ever seen anything like it, and he agreed to help. Of course, that was before you kids dragged Bruce and me out and shoved us onto broomsticks and forced us to see we could do it too." Dick smiled at Harry. Harry gave him a weak smile back.
"Anyway, it came up in a staff meeting this morning, and the Headmaster decided that I should do my 'public demonstration' tonight. I told him privately that I could just show everyone that I could fly on a broom now, but he was so disappointed that he wouldn't get to see the performance, that I told him OK, I'd still do it. So we'd better get back. Besides, I'm hungry!"
Harry suddenly realized he was starving. "Yeah, me too."
"We're really not that far away from the castle, so it shouldn't take very long to get back," Bruce pointed out. "We might even be able to catch the tail end of supper."
They walked back to the cave entrance. Harry recast the Disillusionment and Audibility Charms, and they took off into the thick golden sunlight of late afternoon.
TO BE CONTINUED...