Hi everyone!

I am so sorry for the delay in updating – I wasn't at all happy with the chapter so I kept rewriting it. Between that, classes and having a good friend of mine spoil HBP for me... Anyway, I still haven't read the entire HBP yet (I know!) but I will, eventually, especially since I know the ending. -Suppresses the urge to wring her neck-

Oh! I've heard that FFnet has rules regarding replying to reviews in the thread… I'm not sure if that's true or not, so could someone please tell me? I don't want them to take my story off the net. I have backups, but I'd rather not repost under a different name or whatnot, and I certainly don't want to lose my lovely reviews! So I won't be replying to reviews – for now, at any rate. But I totally appreciate and adore the reviews so please keep them coming!

Huge thanks to Abbey for sticking with me through all the rewrites… You absolutely rock!

Chapter Fourteen: Mending Bridges

"Hello Percy. You're going to catch flies, you know," Harry said as he entered Dumbledore's office, smiling at the look of utter shock that overcame Percy's normally pompous-looking face.

When Percy closed his mouth with a snap, looking both embarrassed and angry, Harry turned to Dumbledore, only to see his Mentor looking happy and relieved – for him, Harry realized with a jolt. It seemed as though some of what he had felt at Headquarters had seeped through their link.

The evening spent at Grimmauld Place, along with the conversation with Phineas Nigellus, had left Harry with a sense of… peace, almost. Harry wasn't sure what to call it, but he felt better than he had in a long while. He still missed his godfather terribly – he doubted that would ever change – but he no longer felt lost, like he'd fall to pieces with a mere mention of Sirius's name. Harry briefly wondered if this was what people meant by closure.

Smiling wistfully one last time at what could have been, Harry nodded respectfully at Dumbledore, conveying without words his thanks. He had no doubts that Phineas Nigellus had been sent there on Dumbledore's urging.

"So Harry, did you find the Portkey?"

Harry glanced at Percy before speaking. "No. There was nothing magical in the entire flat – except for this," Harry replied, pulling out the decrepit wand he had found at Percy's flat from the pocket of his trousers. "I assumed it was yours."

"Yes, Potter. Thank you." Percy's expression and voice were tight, as if it hurt saying those words to him.

"Did you need me for anything else, Al-- Professor? I wanted to go to St. Mungo's." Harry hoped Percy hadn't caught onto his near-stumble. It really wouldn't do to have others know that he'd begun to address his Professors so casually – things were difficult enough as it was without adding any unnecessary attention.

"Mundungus has already been released, and I believe the Weasleys have left as well. But you-"

"Were they hurt? What happened? Headmaster, I demand to know what is going on here!" Percy's anxious voice interrupted Dumbledore.

Dumbledore raised his hands in an attempt to calm him down.

"Mr Weasley, the Portkey that your mother gave you has been used to attack the Order Headquarters. Two of our members were hurt – including your mother – and two others have been killed."

Percy's face paled alarmingly. "I-- I didn't do anything! I swear, I would never…! You must believe me, Professor Dumbledore!"

"I do, Mr Weasley. However, I think it would be best if you didn't go back to your flat just yet."

"Well, where else would I-" realization hit Percy and he paled even further, to Harry's surprise – he hadn't thought that was possible. "I don't think that'd be a good idea, Professor Dumbledore. In fact, I think that's the worst idea I've ever heard."

Before Dumbledore could say a word, a sound very similar to a Muggle doorbell was heard and Charlie Weasley stepped out of the fireplace. "I believe that's the first time you and I agreed on something, Percy. Hello, brother – it's been awhile."

Hermione was sitting on one of the sofas in the Grimmauld Place sitting room. The sitting room, though it had been fully cleaned and restored, was rather imposing and opulent, more of a museum rather than a comfortable room, and so wasn't occupied often. But while the kitchen now looked immaculate, Hermione hadn't wanted to stay down there, already having a difficult enough time forgetting the nightmare that she'd stumbled onto earlier in the evening.

Hermione shook herself from her thoughts and checked the clock on the wall – it was late. Molly had long since gone to bed with Ginny in tow – she had refused to be separated from her mum. Arthur had departed for the Ministry shortly thereafter to finish the work he'd skipped out on earlier, while the twins had gone back to their shop in Diagon Alley. Bill and Charlie had also disappeared as soon as Molly had gone upstairs. Ron had gone to bed shortly afterwards, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster.

The entire house was silent, yet Hermione didn't feel lonely, nor did she find the atmosphere oppressive. In fact, Hermione had never felt better. The room was suffused with the fiery glow from the merrily crackling fire, and the warmth wrapped comfortingly around her, much like her favourite fleece blanket – though it was now relegated to her childhood box in the attic of her home. The blanket was threadbare now, but for years it had been her only solace, providing a barrier against the harsh reality before her Hogwarts letter. Being a "know-it-all" wasn't conducive to having friends, and with such busy parents, her only companions had been her books and her blanket. They had provided her with a world where she could escape and live amongst those who didn't ridicule her for her inquisitive nature and forthright honesty, who appreciated her thirst for knowledge, for however a brief period of time. But after her first year at Hogwarts, she had no longer needed it and thus had left her blanket behind. Her mother had been more than happy to pack it up and put it away – she had, after all, been after Hermione for years to just simply throw it away.

Hermione sighed tiredly, but refused to fall asleep, knowing she'd get nightmares – for awhile, at least. But that was only a part of the reason why she was awake. Things between her and Ron were better now – though not as comfortable as they were before – and Ron might need her tonight.

After the battle at the Department of Mysteries, Hermione had had trouble sleeping. One night, the nightmare had been so terrible that she couldn't stay in her bed any longer. She had thus quietly made her way into the kitchen, only to find Ron already there, his sleep also plagued by nightmares. They had sat awkwardly, until the silence between them became so thick that it was almost suffocating. Eventually, in the early hours of the morning, they'd found themselves voicing their fears, and by the time Molly had made her way downstairs to cook breakfast, Ron and Hermione had been smiling and laughing. The ritual had continued every night until their nightmares had eased. Hermione wasn't completely sure if the ritual would be repeated this time, but she wanted to be ready for it just in case. Hermione was not going to lose her best friend, and she wasn't going to let Ron go through this alone. She'd pledged to always be there for Ron, to always stand by him, and she had no intention of going back on her promise.

Perenelle Flamel knocked on Severus Snape's office door and opened it when she heard the brisk, "Enter!"

Perenelle paused when she spotted another wizard standing beside Snape. "Oh! I'm sorry – I didn't realize you were busy, Professor Snape. I can come back later."

"Professor Flamel! No, please, come in," Snape said, in a tone laced with what Draco thought might have been delight or excitement. As she further stepped into his dimly lit office, Draco stared in unabashed interest and Snape threw a scowl at his favourite student. "That'll do for tonight, Mr Malfoy. Come and see me tomorrow."

Acknowledging the blatant dismissal with a sharp grin, Draco said, "Of course. Professors," and with a respectful nod, Draco left Snape's office.

"I really didn't mean to interrupt."

"Oh, it's not a problem. Would you like something to drink, Professor Flamel?"

"Thank you, but I'm fine. I actually have a favour I wanted to ask of you. Shall we sit?"

"Of course. I would be more than happy to help if I can."

Perenelle glanced around the barely decorated office before exhaling. "I'm sure you're wondering how I am still alive, when the Philosopher's Stone no longer exists."

Snape flushed in embarrassment. "I must admit, I was, and am still, rather curious as to how you managed to survive when your husband did not."

"Believe me, Professor Snape, it was news to me as well – it was something I had not foreseen, though I should have suspected it. For years, I've researched the cause, but there's only so much I can do with my limited knowledge in these fields. That's why I need your help."

Snape frowned. "I am flattered, but you must know that my specialization lies in Potions, not Alchemy. Headmaster Dumbledore would be the better candidate, since he studied under your husband. He's the leading expert in the area."

Perenelle smiled a little. "Yes, that was one of the reasons why I accepted the teaching position. I knew Albus would help me if I only asked."

"Then why come to me?"

Perenelle stood and began to wander about, and her reluctance with the subject at hand was more than obvious. She paused before speaking, and Snape could see that she was choosing her words very carefully.

"More than three centuries ago, I was involved in an accident, when Nicholas was attempting to make a more potent Elixir of Life. The lab where he was working blew up, and the Elixir was subsequently absorbed into my bloodstream. The healers at St. Mungo's assured me that I suffered no ill-effects, and until a few years ago, I had thought the same.

"When I didn't pass away, I contacted Albus for help. But recent troubles in the wizarding world have put restrictions on his time, and my own efforts to reverse the effects have failed. That's why I've come to you. You are one of the best Potions Masters seen in ages."

Snape flushed at the compliment. Uncomfortable with such high praise from the Perenelle Flamel, he said instead, "Most would not consider immortality to be an ill-effect."

"I've lived for over six centuries, Professor Snape – that's a very long time, particularly when you're alone." Perenelle sounded tired, and Snape felt an answering weariness in him.

Brushing the unwanted memories aside, Snape asked, "Am I correct in my assumption that I'll be Obliviated of all details pertaining to the Elixir of Life once you're -- cured?"

Perenelle's answer was firm. "Yes. The knowledge behind the Elixir is simply too dangerous to exist. I realize this is asking a lot of you-"

"I accept."

"-but -- I'm sorry. What?"

"I'll help you, Professor Flamel."

Perenelle sighed in relief. "Thank you, Professor Snape. Thank you."

Arthur Weasley rubbed his eyes, hoping to stave off the headache he could feel forming. The Ministry of Magic was quiet, most wizards and witches having left to go home hours ago. Normally Arthur would have joined them, but he needed to get away for awhile. Besides, there was always something that needed his attention.

He had almost finished reading the report from Kingsley Shacklebolt regarding the odd silence from You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters when a throat cleared. "Arthur?"

Startled, he almost knocked over the piles of parchment on his desk as he quickly rose from his seat, holding his wand. "Who's there?"

"Over here, Arthur. Sorry for startling you."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Remus's head in the fireplace. "Remus. It's rather late – is something the matter?"

"Nothing's wrong, really. I just wanted to see how you were."

"Oh, I'm fine. Molly, on the other hand, is not. But she's sleeping, and I thought it best I get some work done while I still can. After the funeral tomorrow…" Arthur trailed off and Remus nodded in understanding.

Arthur sighed tiredly and grimaced at the clock on the wall that told him it was long past his bedtime. "I hate to rush you Remus, but…"

"I understand – I'll make it quick. I've gone over all the Muggle books I've recovered from the museum, and there's nothing of importance there. I've gone through them several times already, but all they contain are Muggle fairytales and other mythical stories. I really don't know what Voldemort could possibly be looking for."

Arthur, wincing at the name, frowned. "Have you told Albus?"

"Yes, though he's a bit busy at the moment. He asked me to inform you."

"Perhaps there are some parts that are hidden under a spell?"

Remus shook his head. "I've already checked for any signs of magic. But I can give it to Harry or even Draco – they might be able to discover something I've missed."

Arthur nodded. "I'm sorry, Remus, but I have to cut this short – I still have quite a bit of work to do."

"Of course. I'll leave you to it. See you tomorrow, Arthur."

Percy looked as though he would faint at any moment. As Charlie moved away from the fireplace, the fire turned brilliant green once again, and Bill gracefully stepped out.

"Headmaster, Harry." Bill nodded to each of them in turn. He didn't bother to turn around to look at Percy.

"Sherbet lemon?"

Bill and Charlie declined and sat down in the chairs when Dumbledore indicated they should sit. Percy clutched the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He hadn't dared to look at either of his siblings yet.

"Headmaster," Bill began, "may I ask why it is necessary for Percy to stay at the Order Headquarters?"

"The location of your brother's flat is known to whomever it was that broke in to steal the Portkey in the first place. Since Headquarters is now warded against Portkey travel, they may decide to retaliate by attacking him. He will be safe there."

Charlie sighed. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Professor, but you must see that for all the parties involved, it would be best for Percy to stay elsewhere. How about here, at Hogwarts? Even for a few days, at least, until we've had a chance to accustom ourselves to the idea."

"I'm afraid, Mr Weasley, that that isn't possible. This is a rather busy time for all the staff at Hogwarts. The students will be here soon – there are preparations to be made, and I cannot house someone who is not a student nor a member of the staff. Wounds tend to become festered if not treated, Mr Weasley. It is best to confront the issue head on rather than avoid it." Dumbledore gently smiled at them before arising from his seat. "Now, it is rather late, and way past my bedtime. Goodnight gentlemen."

Hearing the dismissal for what it was, Bill and Charlie Flooed back to Headquarters, followed by a reluctant Percy, who looked for all the world as if he were heading to his own execution.

"Wormtail!"

"Y-yes, master?"

"Have you found it?"

"N-no, m-ma-master. Pl-please, ma-"

"Crucio!"