Harry stared at Barty Crouch – disguised as Alastor Moody – and tried to pretend that he did not, in fact, have any idea that he was a Death Eater whose main goal was to offer Harry up to Voldemort. Harry had gotten used to being at the top of the list of Most Likely People to be Murdered so this did not bother him as much as Ginny seemed to think it should. What shook his self-control was the fact that Neville Longbottom was seated next to him, and Barty Crouch had helped to torture Neville's mother and father into insanity.
It did not help that he now had to sit back and allow the Death Eater to place his classmates under the Imperius Curse. It made him feel slightly ill; what had been funny the first time (without knowledge and maturity) now was ominous. Not that Crouch betrayed anything; he did not show the slightest sign of glee or enjoyment… no, he had nailed the role of Mad-Eye Moody: gruff, paranoid, and no nonsense. Still, Harry took a deep breath when Neville performed astounding acrobatics.
Ron was equally silent. Harry could tell by the set of his jaw (even from across the classroom) that he had the same disturbing thoughts running through his mind. Harry wondered if Ron and Ginny had hated the sight of Scabbers and Harry in the same room. Did they have that same sick feeling that Harry had now, watching Crouch control Neville? He suspected that they had.
"Your turn, Potter!" Crouch called. He took a swig from his flask.
Just in case, Harry tightened his Obfuscomency shield. He had no idea whether or not Crouch was a Legilimens. It didn't seem likely, but he was not about to take his chances. He had spent the last two and a half years creating and perfecting the difficult bit of mind magic, and he was finally satisfied that the spiral was complete. Even better, Snape and Dumbledore were satisfied. Ron and Ginny still had a ways to go, but as they would not be meeting Voldemort face to face in a few months, they had more leeway than Harry.
The delicious feeling of not having worries or cares engulfed Harry. The Imperius Curse was not one that he had experienced regularly, thank Merlin. It seemed to engulf him in a warm blanket. But that warm blanket would smother Harry if he allowed it to. Jump on the desk, said the small voice in his head.
And Harry swatted Crouch's control away. He may not be good at casting that particular curse, but his mind was stronger than Crouch's.
"Well done, Potter!" Crouch said loudly. "Did you see that? He fought it off!"
Harry managed a guileless smile. "Didn't feel much like jumping on the desk," he said. "I dunno how I did it."
"But you did!" Crouch said. He was a very good actor, Harry thought. "Twenty points to Gryffindor – everyone, you watch Potter. You can watch him fight it… just look at his eyes."
Hermione left Ron's side (where she was spending more and more time, much to Ron's delight) immediately after class. Harry stifled a groan. He loved Hermione like a sister, but she was absolutely relentless. And despite the fact that she was also suspicious of Ron and Ginny, Harry had the full brunt of her rather rabid thirst for knowledge.
"That was excellent, Harry," she said warmly.
Harry eyed her warily. "Thanks," he said. He had not forgotten how she had cornered him after breakfast. He would not enjoy a repeat performance. Just a few more weeks, he thought with both relief and dread. As soon as Dumbledore confirmed that the Goblet of Fire had indeed been Confunded, and that the Ripple Effect had not extended to changing Voldemort's plans, they would tell them.
"I'm pretty impressed," she added. She had that look in her eyes again; she was about to ask a leading question.
Harry tried to head it off. "It's not that big a deal, really," he said evasively. "You ended up throwing it off. So did Ron. And Neville did, too."
"Not as quickly as you," Hermione pointed out. "Harry," she said in a very low voice. "You haven't been practicing throwing it off, have you?"
"No," Harry said quietly. "But – er – ever since Pettigrew did it on me, I've been a little afraid of it."
"Seems a little funny, that's all," she said. "Pettigrew had you fully under, and it didn't break until – what was it you said? He got distracted?"
"Yep," Harry said. "Maybe I'm just stronger now."
"But how did you get stronger?" she pressed.
Not for the first time, Harry thought that Hermione Granger was too smart for her own good. "Hermione, please," he said. "My head hurts, and I'm starving. Can we talk about this later?"
She looked as frustrated as he felt. They were standing in a very crowded corridor with students streaming past them; it was not until Dennis Creevy jostled her accidentally and knocked the books out of her hands that she gave it up.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Harry's heart was hammering inside his chest as he waited, alone, in the Room of Requirement. This was it; this was the moment. He had only minutes left before Ron and Ginny, and then Hermione, Luna, and Neville would come in through that door. There was a roaring fire in the hearth, yet his fingers trembled.
He'd almost put it off for too long. Hermione had grown increasingly ill-tempered with him – just last night she'd refused to help him with his Ancient Runes homework. She was also speaking in secret to Neville, Harry knew; he felt a sort of morbid curiosity about what they were speculating about.
The door cracked open and Ginny and Ron shuffled in, looking as sick as Harry felt. He wrapped his arms around Ginny.
"Do you have the book?" he asked.
She nodded, and withdrew the copy of Memories Unbound that they had bought for her for Christmas during their first year. It seemed almost unreal that they were already in their fourth, and about to tell Hermione and Neville everything.
"Is it just me," Harry murmured, "or is time going by much faster this time around?"
Ron shook his head. "I can't believe we're here already. By this time next year…"
"Voldemort will be wreaking havoc," Harry finished for him.
Ginny rested her head against his chest, and he stroked her hair. One good thing that came from this year: he and Ginny, by some miracle of their schedules, had much more time alone together.
"All right, Ron?" Harry asked. He had the most to lose of all of them if this went badly. Stop thinking about that, he ordered himself.
Ron shrugged. "I'm more worried about this than I am about you facing Voldemort in that graveyard."
"Thanks," Harry said dryly, though he understood.
"That's a done deal," Ron said. "He takes your blood—"
"—tortures me a bit," Harry interjected.
"—then challenges you to a duel," Ron continued as if Harry had not spoken. "You do your Expelliarmus bit, and then you scamper."
"You're right," Harry nodded, grinning. "That'll be much easier than this."
"If you two don't shut up about that right now…" Ginny warned. "Although I do see your point," she added after a moment. Harry kissed the top of her head, knowing that she'd only said something because she'd felt like she'd had to. Her humor was just as black as theirs at times.
"So," Ron said. "Just to clarify. We're still going with full disclosure?"
"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Except for the fact that I'm a Horcrux too."
"What if Hermione figures it out?" Ginny asked.
"She didn't last time," Harry shrugged. "Would that she had. And if she does… fine. But I'm not going to tell them, and I'd rather you two didn't either. I didn't even tell Sirius and Remus, remember?"
"All right," Ginny murmured.
"Dumbledore's in his office," Harry told them. "He's ensured that he'll be alone for the rest of the night, just in case we need him. And Snape—"
"—has the twins occupied," Ron interrupted. "We know."
Harry let go of Ginny and paced the floor. The Room of Requirement produced a thick, old carpet just for this purpose. It had faded patches, and Harry suspected that he was not the first to pace on it, his feet showing his worry of their own accord. His stomach clenched whenever he made a turn.
"We're here!" Luna said brightly, and Harry's stomach made a steep dive, and he felt like he had the times he had fallen off his broomstick. Neville, Luna, and Hermione had obviously come together. They filed in, one right after another. Luna already knows, Harry told himself. At least we don't have to worry about her.
"Hi," Harry, Ron, and Ginny chorused weakly.
"Hello," Neville said, looking around curiously at the room. Instead of a large, empty area that they made use of to practice dueling and other spells, a series of cozy armchairs sat next to the fire.
"What's all this?" Hermione knit her brows together. "I thought we were practicing tonight? And… we're all together?"
Harry licked his lips, and nervously flattened his hair. "I – well – let's sit down."
"Yes!" Ron said enthusiastically. He grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her to the nearest chair. Funnily enough, Harry thought, it was just large enough for the both of them.
"Great idea, Harry," Ginny said.
Once they were all seated – Luna upon a Japanese-style mat – Harry stared around at them. His throat had closed up tightly, and he could not think of anything to say.
"What's this all about?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence.
"Are you going to tell us your secret now?" Neville's mouth was slightly open.
"Yes," Harry said, relieved. Ginny, beside him, nodded.
Hermione immediately sat upright. "You mean that after all these months of dodging us you're finally going to tell us? Why now? Why not then?"
"Didn't think you were ready," Ron said quietly. Hermione bristled at this, and turned to glare at him, but something in his eyes must have changed her mind, for she seemed to change her mind.
"Is it really that big of a secret?" she asked uncertainly.
"Huge," Harry said.
"The biggest," Ginny said.
There was another long moment of silence. Neville broke it this time by saying, "would it help you if we asked questions?"
"I have a list," Hermione said. She pulled a piece of parchment out of her bag. "I'm glad I had this with me; I almost dropped the bag off in the common room."
Harry eyed it warily.
"That looks a bit long," Ron said. He squinted at it. "And tiny writing."
"Neville and I have been working on it for a while," Hermione said defensively. "We started it in the Hospital Wing right after the dementors attacked us. Which brings us to the first question: How did you, Ron, know that Pettigrew was on the grounds?"
"That's easy," Ron said, relieved. "I have this thing called the Marauder's Map. It shows everyone on Hogwarts grounds, and where they are. I nicked it from Fred and George a while ago."
Hermione nodded. "That makes sense… although I wouldn't expect them to be able to use such a complex enchantment."
"Fred and George are smarter than people give them credit for," Ginny told her.
"And besides," Harry said. "It wasn't them that enchanted it. The Marauders went to school in the seventies… one of them was my dad, in fact. The others were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. They went by Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs."
"I have a question," Neville said. "Are you a Seer, Harry? A real one, not like – er – Professor Trelawney."
"Definitely not," Harry answered. "Although – you'll be interested to know – she was the one who made the prophecy about Voldemort and me."
"Do you know what the prophecy says?" Hermione asked. "All of it?"
Harry, Ron, and Ginny stared at each other.
"Hermione," Ginny said. "Neville. Luna. This is pretty much your last chance to back out. From here on out, we're going to tell you everything. Are you sure you want to hear about it?"
"It's a big responsibility," Harry said. "There's a reason why we haven't told you before."
Hermione and Neville both took a deep breath and nodded. Luna fiddled with her hair. Harry took this to mean that she understood. Harry wondered if they knew that their lives were probably going to change drastically. Maybe not physically, but Harry had a feeling that Hermione's worldview was going to be rocked when they told her that they had done the almost impossible. He was glad that Hermione had softened toward Luna (the fact that Luna had an intuitive grasp of Ancient Runes helped); Luna would help her.
"Do you miss having a crown?" Luna said suddenly.
"What?" Harry said blankly.
"You know," she said. "You aren't a king anymore. Do you miss it?"
Ginny laughed first. Then Ron and Harry. When Luna started to giggle as well, Harry realized that this was why she'd done it. She wanted them to laugh. Some of the knots that had formed in his belly uncoiled, and he felt a great affection for Luna. Neville and Hermione joined them, albeit uncertainly, and Harry thought that things just might turn out to be all right.
"Next question," Ron said.
"You didn't answer mine," Hermione pointed out.
"I know the whole prophecy," Harry said. "And it's basically this: I've got to defeat Voldemort, and I'm the only one who can do it."
Hermione, Luna, and Neville stared at him, eyes wide. "Oh Harry," Hermione whispered. "Are you scared?"
"Not for the reason you think," Harry answered honestly. "I know how Voldemort can be defeated. Don't"—Harry ordered when Hermione, Neville, and Luna flinched at the name—"be afraid of his name. Anyway, I know what we've got to do. What I'm afraid of is how many people are going to die before he can be stopped."
"That's why you've been training us," Neville said slowly. "I know you told me that last year, but…"
"Feels more real now?" Ron asked. "I know the feeling, mate, believe me."
"Why me, though?" Neville asked. "I'm getting better, but…"
"You just need more confidence," Ginny said. "And try to get a better wand. I know it was your dad's, but wands always work better when they've chosen you. And we'll work hard this year… you'll start learning more spells."
Harry thought of the time when all six of them had gone on an ill-advised rescue mission to the Ministry of Magic. He remembered thinking that of all the members of Dumbledore's Army, he wouldn't have chosen Ginny, Neville, and Luna to come with them. But Harry had a clearer vision of them now, and he knew exactly what he needed to say.
"Listen," he said. He stared at Hermione, Neville, and Luna in turn. "Trust me when I say that of all the students at Hogwarts, I need your help the most. I can't do this alone. You have a choice, you know. I'm not going to force you to help—"
"You have a choice too," Luna said unexpectedly.
"You could, I dunno, move to Australia or Russia," Neville said.
"But you won't," Hermione smiled. "And we won't either."
"I hope you don't regret saying that," Harry said quietly.
"I hope we have a few years yet," Hermione said. "We don't know when he'll return—"
"Yes, we do," Ron interrupted. "Which is why we waited until now to tell you. We know for sure when he's coming back, thank Merlin."
"He's coming back on June 24th," Ginny said.
"My name," Harry said, "is going to come out of the Goblet of Fire tomorrow. I'll go through all the tasks. And when I win, the cup is going to turn out to be a Portkey. It's going to take me to a graveyard, where Voldemort is going to be resurrected."
"What?" Hermione said. "How do you – if that really is the case – why aren't you going to stop it?"
"Stop it?" Ron asked. "We're not going to stop it. We've actively worked to this point. And trust me, it hasn't been easy."
"You're – I can't believe – are you telling me that you want You-Know-Who to come back?"
"He has to," Ginny said simply. "Otherwise he'll never be defeated. He'll always be a threat."
"Explain," Neville said, his jaw clenched.
"Voldemort has Horcruxes," Ron said. "He didn't die when his curse rebounded off of Harry because of them. He stuck bits of his soul – believe me, you don't want to know how he did this – into a bunch of different physical objects."
"They keep him immortal," Ginny said.
"Before Voldemort can be destroyed completely," Harry added, "they've got to be destroyed too; otherwise he'll always be around, lurking in the dark corners of the world waiting for someone to give him back a body. Pettigrew is that someone."
"We wanted Voldemort's return to be on our terms – or as much as it can be," Ron said. He fiddled with his wand and jiggled his legs. Any minute now, Hermione (or possibly Neville) was going to ask how they could know all of this. "Voldemort's a right nasty bastard. We're the last ones to say that this is going to be at all easy."
Neville looked sick. "That reminds me of the stories my Gran – my other Gran, my mum's mum – used to tell me about Koschej the Deathless. He was a Russian wizard who hid his death inside a needle, which was inside a fish, which was inside a bird… you get the point. And it's sort of like that? He's got his death hidden?"
"Er – yeah, I guess," Harry, who had not really understood the historical reference, said. "Except that there's more than one."
"Harry, don't you think you should tell someone about this?" Hermione said nervously. "Dumbledore could—"
"Dumbledore knows," Ginny assured her.
"So does Snape," Ron said. "We told them the first day of classes – remember how you didn't think we were under the Confuzzle Draught? We needed to get to them without causing suspicion."
"But the two of you were eleven years old then!" Hermione said. "How could you possibly have known all of this? Harry was living with Muggles!"
Harry's palms were sweating; he wiped them off on his robes. "We knew because… because we've been here before; we've lived this before."
"What?" Neville said blankly.
"It's true," Luna spoke up. "Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere traveled from the future."
"Luna…" Hermione said. "That's completely impossible and you know it."
Ginny pulled out Memories Unbound from underneath her robes. With shaking fingers, she turned it to the correct page, and handed it to Hermione. Hermione took it automatically and stared down at it, bewildered.
"No," she shook her head. "No, no, no way is this possible."
"It is," Ron said gently. "Trust us."
"What is it?" Neville asked.
"The Tears of Merlin," Hermione said. "They're claiming that they used the Tears of Merlin to send their memories back. It's a fairy tale – they couldn't possibly have—"
"We did," Harry said. "Neville… didn't you wonder why we were so angry at Lockhart for Obliviating me? Ron thought he'd erased all the memories I had of the future…"
"Even if this is true," Hermione said icily. Her expression was frozen in a horrible grimace of disbelief. She'd crossed her arms and legs so tightly that Harry fully expected to hear her bones snap. "You just spent the last half hour telling us that you know how to defeat You-Know-Who! If you really do know how to do it, why didn't you just – I don't know – do it in your own time?"
Apparently she thought her logic infallible, for she now looked a little smug as well as angry.
"We did," Harry said. "We defeated Voldemort—"
"—Harry defeated him," Ron interjected.
"Then why come back?" Neville asked. He was not as rigid as Hermione was, but he was still skeptical.
"They didn't come back, Neville," Hermione said. "I can't believe that you said you were finally going to tell us the truth, and now you're telling us a bunch of lies!"
"We aren't lying," Ginny said.
"Even if the Tears of Merlin is true, I can't imagine why you'd be that desperate—"
"Oh yeah?" Ron said loudly. "Maybe you should ask yourself why you aren't with us. Everyone in this room – practically every damn person in this castle – died fighting Voldemort. You, Neville, Luna… our entire family. I'm not going to give you the whole damn list of everyone who died – we don't have the time."
"Try to picture everyone you love dead, Hermione," Ginny said, "except for two other people. And yes, you are absolutely right. We were – are – desperate."
"The price we paid to defeat Voldemort for the first time was far too high," Harry said. "We lived like ghosts for three years after we lost all of you…"
"Until Harry had the idea to go back in time," Ron said.
"Which I actually got from you," Harry said to Hermione.
She raised her eyebrows. She'd softened a bit, but she was far from believing their wild tale. "But wasn't I supposed to be dead?"
"You were," Harry said. "But I was thinking of you, and I remembered your Time-Turner – the one you used to get to all your classes last year."
"How did you know --?"
"I told you," Harry said impatiently. "I've lived this before. So… I had this wild idea that we could go back and change things—"
"We didn't listen to him at first," Ginny put in. "We knew a Time-Turner wouldn't work, and we told him that but Harry wouldn't let it go."
"And then I remembered what you had said about time traveling and how Time-Turners are the most reliable way—"
"Which they are," Hermione admitted grudgingly. "But mostly because the other ways are supposed to be impossible. Are still most likely impossible."
"Hermione," Neville said suddenly. "I think they're telling the truth. Look, it explains everything: how they knew about the basilisk, why they were so hacked off at Lockhart, why they're so insistent that we train."
"Just today you were certain that they were Seers!" Hermione said. "You didn't think that it could be explained any other way; you've changed your mind awfully quickly!"
"It made sense," Neville admitted. "But now I know the truth – and it's kind of similar, I guess. They weren't just foreseeing… they've lived through all this before."
"It's true," Luna said.
Hermione looked at her scathingly. "You'll believe anything, I—" But she interrupted herself, eyes widening. "You could tell her, but you couldn't tell us?"
"She guessed," Ron said, smiling a little. "She knew right away."
Hermione paused for a moment. The minutes ticked by, and Harry watched her apprehensively. He could practically feel her thinking. Her eyes were vague, though she kept narrowing them. He knew that she was not trying to put the pieces together. She was trying to find some argument that would shatter what they were saying; Harry could not pretend that he had not expected this. Once, Neville opened his mouth to speak, but she held her hand up sharply.
She looked at them triumphantly. "All right," she said slowly. "If this is true… if you really are from the future… don't you think that it was a bit stupid of you to alienate the Weasleys again? They've made it awfully difficult for you to carry out your plans. And before you say that you and Ginny didn't get caught – you know – last time, Ron told me ages ago that your parents were suspicious of you even before that. Why didn't you… I don't know… work a little harder to gain their trust?"
"First of all," Harry said, "Ginny and I wouldn't have been caught together – at least not until after my sixth year – because we didn't get together until then. This time it's different – we've been in love for years and years now…"
"And second of all," Ginny said quietly. "My parents loved Harry very much. He was like another son to them."
"Sometimes I think they liked him more than they liked me," Ron smiled a little sadly.
"That's ludicrous," Hermione said flatly. "There's no way that people would change that much."
"But they haven't really changed," Harry said. "They're protective of their children, they're loving and kind, and they'll do anything to keep those they love from harm. It's just… I don't fall under that category anymore."
"And there are two reasons for that, I think," Ron said. "The first… do you remember that stupid article? 'Don't trust Harry Potter, he might be some kind of baby Dark Lord, blah blah blah.' There was nothing like it where we came from. Mum and Dad had no reason whatsoever to worry, and so they were able to get to know Harry without worrying that he was going to go Dark."
"And the second reason," Ginny said, "is that they've seen the changes in us. Dad's said that on more than one occasion, and so has Mum. They think it's Harry's influence, and they're afraid that if we continue to be around him, we'll change even more. They're afraid that if Harry goes Dark, so will we."
"Not that that would happen," Harry said.
Hermione stared at each of them in turn. She'd relaxed somewhat, and she looked utterly confused. Neville seemed to have taken the idea of the time travel better, but still… his brows were knit together as he stared at a point somewhere over Harry's left shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said finally. "But I'm going to have to ask that you prove it. I just can't believe it without proof, and I have no idea how you're going to do so."
"How about with a Pensieve?" Ron asked. "We'll show you some of the memories we have."
"And Pensieves can't be hoodwinked," Hermione muttered to herself. She trailed off, and Harry could see that she was analyzing everything she knew about Pensieves and objective memories. "All right," she said. "If you can actually show these memories you have inside a Pensieve, then I'll have to believe you, mustn't I?"
"Dumbledore's got one," Harry said immediately. "I can just ask him to—"
But before he could stand up and send a message by Patronus to Albus Dumbledore asking for his assistance, a Pensieve and a small table appeared before them. "This is a pretty incredible room," Harry said. He wondered if the Room of Requirement had provided a completely different Pensieve, or if the one in Dumbledore's office had suddenly gone on walkabout.
He tapped his chin thoughtfully with his wand, and ducked when red sparks shot out of the end. He ended up giving Neville, Hermione, and Luna more memories than he had given Sirius and Remus. He put in the original prophecy as he had heard it in his fifth year in Dumbledore's office; he gave them a few bits from the original Dumbledore's Army (including when Neville had produced his corporeal Patronus); and he also put in a few battles that they had successfully had against Death Eaters. He then skipped a large portion of time, and showed them a brief picture of the aftermath of the battle (though he was careful not to show them their bodies), and the time Harry, Ron, and Ginny had decided to come back.
Ron and Ginny also walked over to add their own memories, though Harry had no idea what they might be. It felt very solemn, almost like a ceremony, and Hermione, Neville, and even Luna watched them with a soberness that belied their age (and Luna's nature).
"This may take awhile," Harry said quietly.
Hermione gave them a long, searching look. She didn't say anything, but took a deep breath and dove into the memories. Neville and Luna followed immediately after.
"What memories did you give them?" Harry asked as soon as the other three had disappeared.
Ron shuffled his feet. "I wanted to show her that Mum and Dad loved you," he said. "She seemed to find it pretty impossible to believe, so I…"
"I showed them all some quiet, happy times that we had," Ginny said, "without being threatened by the war and Voldemort. And I showed them what really happened to Pettigrew. They were going to ask anyway."
Harry sat, and Ginny immediately plopped down into his lap. He put his arms around her middle, and she leaned up against him. Ron took Harry's place and began to pace the carpet, looking at the Pensieve and the swirling, silver substance inside it every few seconds. The dread he'd felt for what seemed like months began to seep away. There was no turning back now; Harry could not take back the words he had said, the truths he had told, or the memories he had given. It was done.
It seemed to take a very long time before Hermione, Neville, and Luna emerged from the Pensieve. Even Luna, who had known for quite a long time, looked ashen faced. Harry could not tell what they were thinking; he could not even begin to guess what was going through Hermione's mind.
"It's real," Hermione finally whispered. She burst into tears. Ron was at her side in seconds, and he hugged her. She buried her face and kept sobbing. Harry had no idea why this was so upsetting to her; he thought she'd be screaming at them for lying to her for these past few years.
"I still don't really understand," Neville said. "I kind of hope that I never have to."
"Me too," Harry said fervently. "Hermione… are you all right?"
"Of course I'm not all right!" Hermione pulled back from Ron. "I thought you were lying… I didn't—"
"Doesn't matter," Ron said. "You believe us now."
Harry thought she might be a little afraid of the battles in her future – he did not blame her. "You don't have to fight, you know. Any of you. I know – believe me, I know – how dangerous it might get."
"And if you think you might want to… step back," Ginny said, "we certainly won't blame you."
"I think a Wrackspurt has gotten a hold of Guinevere and Arthur," Luna said dreamily. "Possibly several of them."
Hermione mopped her eyes on her robes. "You know what, Luna? I think you're right about that." Harry gaped at her.
"They are being pretty stupid," Neville agreed.
"Er," Harry said. "Listen—"
"No, you listen!" Hermione said. "Obviously you need a few things explained to you. You came back for us."
Harry had heard this before from Sirius. But he didn't know why everyone was so shocked and grateful. He was dragging them one by one into a war with the most evil wizard who had ever lived. He needed their help – all of them. They were putting themselves at risk; it was certain that they would be placing themselves in mortal peril. He was going to do everything he could to save them all, but that did not change the fact that they could die again.
He told them this.
"We realize that, Harry," Hermione said. "You've just shown us. But you could've stayed in the future. Instead, you came back for us—"
"We'd do it again in a heartbeat," Ron informed her. He was making absolutely no effort to disguise how much he loved her. "So don't feel like you owe us, or something."
"That's not how love and friendship work," Hermione said softly.
"I suppose it isn't," Ginny said.
Harry still did not quite understand it, but he heaved a huge, heartfelt sigh of relief anyway. "Thank you," he said.
"We thought you'd be angry," Ron said, still staring at Hermione.
"Don't be thick, Ron," Hermione said waspishly. "Now. Harry. Do you know what this 'terrible power' is?"
Harry shook his head. "Not really. At least I don't think I do."
She nodded. "All right. I'll start doing research immediately. While we"—she indicated herself, Neville, and Luna—"are practicing, you will too. All three of you," she said sternly. Harry, Ron, and Ginny grinned at the bossy tone in her voice. "We can order more books from Flourish and Blotts, or maybe we can get some out of the Restricted Section in the library. And you're going to keep learning spells until we've got the right one."
"Er," Harry said.
"You wanted my help!" Hermione said impatiently. "And you just said that you don't know what the terrible power is. Maybe you've got to look for it."
"She's probably right," Ginny said.
Hermione's face was alight with excitement. "And Dumbledore will probably have some ideas…"
Despite himself, Harry could not help but feel a small, unfurling hope. Maybe there was something like the Hallows – a safe way to ensure his survival. He would never, ever make a Horcrux, but he was the last person to say that he knew everything about magic. He might not have to die…
HPHPHPHPHPHPHP
"I've got them counted, Hagrid," Charlie Weasley said warningly. Harry could not blame him; Hagrid was eying the dragon eggs with longing. He choked back a laugh; the Disillusionment Charm made him invisible, and did not cause the others around him to go deaf.
Hagrid groaned. He tore his eyes away from the large eggs, and instead turned to look at the Hungarian Horntail. "She's a real beauty," he said softly.
Charlie nodded. "We almost didn't bring her, you know. We didn't know there would be a fourth contestant. Say, Hagrid… are you still friends with Harry Potter?"
Hagrid's chest swelled out. "Aye," he said importantly. "See 'im at least once a week; he likes to come by for tea."
"Do you know why he put his name in the Goblet of Fire?" Charlie asked. Harry began to look for escape routes. It had been very stupid of him to think that his name would not come up. "Was it just for attention, do you think?"
"He said he didn' do it," Hagrid said.
Charlie eyed him skeptically. "You really believe that? I think you might be the only one. Everyone's been yammering about it since Rita Skeeter's article came out."
Harry felt a swell of fury when he remembered that article. He'd refused to have any sort of interview with her, hoping that she would not have enough fodder for a story. Instead, she'd made up facts and managed to paint him as some mad, attention-hungry little boy. Not only that, but she'd taken the opportunity to bring that first article up, the fact that he was a Parseltongue, and the series of adventures he'd had during the last few years. Fortunately, she'd left out any mention of the Weasleys, though Harry feared that it was only a matter of time. If Hermione's plan didn't work…
"Rita Skeeter's a real cow," Hagrid said. "Harry's a good boy, an' if he says he didn' put 'is name in the Goblet o' Fire, then he didn'."
"I'm not so sure about him being a good boy, Hagrid," Charlie said. "You're a teacher; you must know what happened with him and my little sister."
"Didn' say he was perfect," Hagrid said. "Maybe he lost his head an' did summat stupid, but I don' think he meant to hurt Ginny. An' I have to say it's right sad to see Harry without Ron. They used ter be as thick as thieves."
"Mum and Dad have other concerns and I think they might be valid," Charlie said. "Hagrid… aren't you at all worried about how Potter might turn out?"
"Nah," Hagrid said immediately. Harry was poised on the verge of fleeing and yet wanted to hear Hagrid defend him. He listened closely, suspecting that Hagrid had forgotten that Harry was there. "Harry don' have an evil bone in his body."
"You sound like Percy," Charlie said. "But Mum and Dad reckon that they don't want Ron and Ginny anywhere near him if he exhibits his terrible power."
"I think yer mum an' dad need to remember who it was that went in ter the Chamber o' Secrets an' saved their daughter," Hagrid said stubbornly.
"They remember that perfectly well," Charlie said. "But that doesn't mean that they have to allow Harry to do whatever he wants with Ginny."
Harry did not feel the need to listen anymore. He walked quietly back through the forest and up to the castle. Once he caught himself dwelling on the conversation too much, he pushed it firmly away. He'd decided a while ago that he could not allow his feelings to cloud his judgment, and he had come far, far too close to jumping on Charlie and dragging him to the nearest Pensieve and showing him exactly why he was to be trusted.
He focused instead upon the upcoming task. He was reasonably confident (at least he wasn't nearly paralyzed with fear as he had been last time) that he would manage to get past the dragon. He'd been practicing on his Firebolt every day for the last several months, after all, and his flying skills were still with him. He'd been toying with using some of the new spells in his arsenal that Hermione had insisted he learn, but thought it best to go with what he knew would work.
He finally climbed into his bed that night, utterly exhausted. It was past midnight, and not only had he gone with Hagrid to take a look at the dragons, but he'd spent the three hours prior in the Room of Requirement learning a particularly difficult charm that turned a section of the ground into quicksand – presumably to be done under a Death Eater's feet, but it had been Ron that he'd been practicing on. Harry was certain that it had nothing whatsoever to do with any terrible power that he might have, but it was a handy spell to know.
The next few days sped by, much to Harry's relief. He'd managed to warn Cedric Diggory about the dragons without Crouch listening in. His habit of using the Disillusionment Charm outside of class (the heckling from the other students was just as bad this time around) had also served to allow him to avoid the Death Eater's help.
"Are you nervous?" Hermione whispered at breakfast on the day of the task.
Harry took the time to consider her question. "Muffliato," he said, once he'd decided to go with the truth. "About the dragon? A little. Not as much as I was last time… I thought I was going to lose my head and start hexing people before I even got to the task."
She laughed.
"But I am a little nervous of things going sideways this year," Harry said. "We're really lucky that we're at this point. Remember Pettigrew?"
"Hard to forget almost having my soul sucked out by dementors," Hermione said dryly.
"And Sirius is still planning to break into Azkaban and retrieve Rookwood," Harry said darkly. "He doesn't seem to understand that I won't let him. That plan has about a one in a million chance in succeeding."
Hermione didn't reply. It was with no small amount of indignation that Harry realized that she'd turned on him too. She was supposed to be the sensible one; she'd always tried to talk them out of their mad schemes before. It was enough that Ron, Ginny, and Sirius had told them that he was being unreasonable just two days before.
"Don't say a word," he warned her.
"I wasn't going to," she said calmly. Then, "I've found another few spells that you might find interesting. Eliotus causes a windstorm, and it looks remarkably difficult to break free of. Also… I've found mention of a spell that will turn someone into smoke for a while."
"I dunno," said Harry, though he was intrigued by the smoke idea. "Somehow I don't think that's terrible enough."
She glared at him. "It's been less than a month, and you're already arguing with me? You promised you'd do this!"
"I will, I will," Harry assured her quickly. "I think the new hexes I've learned are going to be useful – Merlin knows that I need all the help I can get. If not with Voldemort, then with other Death Eaters. But—"
"How do you expect to find the terrible power if you don't look for it?" Hermione said severely. "We've got to try everything!"
Harry sighed. "You're right." He cast around for a change of topic, but found that he did not need one, as Professor McGonagall hurried over to him. He quickly ended the charm he'd cast that had ensured his and Hermione's privacy.
"It's time, Potter," she said. She was rather pale. "You're to meet the champions now."
Harry followed her out. He glanced back once to see Ron giving him the thumb's up sign, and Ginny mouthing "I love you." He winked at her. Thankfully, the twins were busy with their breakfasts and did not notice this.
If Harry had wondered if he would draw the Hungarian Horntail again, he soon found out that some things remained the same, and this was one of them. He glanced around at the slightly panicked look on Fleur's, Krum's, and Cedric's faces; their fear seemed to steady him. You're going to be fine, he wanted to tell them. Especially Cedric, though Harry had different reasons for this besides just the dragon.
"Er – you're staring at me, Potter," Cedric's voice broke into his thoughts. As Harry had just been remembering the body he had taken back with him from the graveyard, this startled him.
"Oh," Harry said, managing a weak grin. "Sorry… just nervous."
"That's all right," he said, with a grimace that was obviously meant to be an answering smile.
The minutes passed, and Harry found himself alone in the tent. Summon the Firebolt, get the golden egg; Summon the Firebolt, get the golden egg; Summon the Firebolt, get the golden egg, he chanted to himself. He gripped his wand with slightly sweaty palms.
He walked into the enclosure that held the Hungarian Horntail feeling – despite his pounding heart and damp hands – a lot more confident than he had. He did not hesitate, but thought as hard as he could about the Firebolt in his dormitory and shouted "Accio Firebolt!"
"Do you even know how to fly, Potter?" Malfoy shouted gleefully. The Slytherins all laughed appreciatively.
Harry thought it might have been better when absolute fear had silenced the crowd. He kept his eyes fixed grimly at the point where his broom would appear. Moments later, it had. He leapt onto it and pulled it up to a dizzying height, and then swooped back down toward the dragon. He flew around it in tight circles. Bursts of flame shot out at him, but he rolled and dived, drawing the Horntail's attention from its eggs.
The cheers were deafening, but Harry ignored them. Come on, he thought as he sent his broom in a tight spiral, away from the fire. The Horntail spread its wings… and Harry pushed the Firebolt to its top speed. The ground rose up to meet him… and there it was, the golden egg; he grabbed it and made a sharp turn.
I didn't even get hurt this time, he thought, satisfied.
Author's Note:
Another chapter, done! We're that much closer to the end… The next chapter will prove to be interesting, I believe.
As to my last Author's Note, the second choice won. And for those who were concerned… I don't intend to make anything extremely explicit. This isn't a romance novel. However, Harry's and Ginny's relationship is central to the plot. And, for those who are concerned about the relationship between a fourteen year old girl and a fifteen year old boy… the scene that will be the sexiest will actually be in a flashback (er… flashforward?).
That being said… I'm so happy that Hermione and Neville are (finally!) in on the secret. I knew they'd find out in this chapter, and I really enjoyed writing it. Harry, Ginny, and Ron need their help rather badly.
I also thought that I'd take the time to say a few words about the Weasleys. They're still kind people. I realize that I may have interpreted their characters a bit differently than some, but I think there is ample evidence in the books for their actions. Remember how Molly treated Hermione when she thought that Hermione was stringing both Harry and Viktor Krum along? Or how she treated Mundungus Fletcher, or Sirius? I love her character, but she isn't Mother Theresa. They're only concerned about their family; Harry understands this. I hope you guys do too!