Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.

Harry sits in Dean's office in Cornwall, looking through an endless pile of maps.

Enter Hermione.

Hermione. There you are. We were starting to wonder where you went.

Harry. I had some things to check on. You finished already?

Hermione. My part is. They're working on tailoring the program now. After that, it will be Percy's turn.

Harry. [shakes his head] It seems to me the whole thing ought to be simpler than all that.

Hermione. Oh, the basic technique is. Apparently, the hard part is slipping it past the relevant part of Percy's watchdog programming without changing his personality in the process.

Hermione studies the maps in Harry's hands.

I was going to ask you if you'd be interested in coming to Minsk with me. But it looks like you've got somewhere else to go.

Harry. I'm not running out on you, Hermione. Really I'm not. This is something that in the long run could mean more for you and the twins than anything I could do in Minsk.

Hermione. All right. Can you at least tell me where you're going?

Harry. I don't know yet. There's someone out there I have to find. But I'm not sure yet even where to start looking. [hesitates] He's another Auror.

Hermione. You're not serious.

Harry. [frowns] Why not? It's a big galaxy, you know.

Hermione. A galaxy in which you were supposedly the last of the Aurors. Isn't that what you said Albus told you before he died?

Harry. Yes. But I'm beginning to think he might have been mistaken.

Hermione. [raises her eyebrows] Mistaken? An Auror Master?

Harry. Aurors sometimes say things that are misleading. And even Auror Masters aren't omniscient. [hesitates] You'll have to keep this to yourself . . . I mean, really to yourself. I don't even want you to tell Ron or Dean, unless it becomes absolutely necessary. They don't have the resistance to interrogation that you do.

Hermione. I understand.

Harry. All right. Did it ever occur to you to wonder why Master Albus was able to stay hidden from the Dark Lord and Snape all those years?

Hermione. [shrugs] I suppose I assumed they didn't know he existed.

Harry. Yes, but they should have. They knew I existed by my effect on the Magic. Why not Albus?

Hermione. Some kind of mental shielding?

Harry. Maybe. But I think it's more likely it was because of where he chose to live . . . or maybe where events chose for him to live.

Hermione. [smiles] Is this where I finally get to find out where this secret training center of yours was?

Harry. I didn't want anyone else to know. He was so perfectly hidden. And even after his death, I was afraid the Ministry might be able to do something . . . Anyway, I can't see that it matters now. Albus's home was at Mould-on-the-Would, practically next door to the dark side cave where I found that beckon call.

Hermione. Mould-on-the-Would . . . I've always wondered how that renegade Dark wizard was finally defeated. It must have been Albus who . . .

Harry. Who stopped him. And he probably didn't stop him with a lot of time to spare.

Hermione. The beckon call was already on standby. He must have been getting ready to call his ship.

Harry. [nods] All of which could explain why the cave was so heavy with the dark side. What it doesn't explain is why Albus decided to stay there.

Hermione. The cave shielded him. Just like a pair of positive and negative electric charges close enough together . . . To a distant observer, they look almost like no charge at all.

Harry. I think that's it. And if that's really how Master Albus stayed hidden, there's no reason why another Auror couldn't have pulled the same trick.

Hermione. I'm sure another Auror could have. But I don't think this Crouch rumor is anywhere near solid enough to chase off after.

Harry. [frowns] What Crouch rumor?

Hermione. [frowns] The story that an Auror Master named Bartemius Crouch has reemerged from wherever it was he's spent the past few decades. You hadn't heard it?

Harry. [shakes his head] No.

Hermione. But then how . . . ?

Harry. Someone called to me, Hermione, during the battle this afternoon . . . in my mind, the way another Auror would.

Hermione. I don't believe it. I just don't. Where could someone with Crouch's power and history have hidden for so long? And why?

Harry. The why I don't know. As to the where . . . That's what I've been looking for. Someplace where a Dark wizard or witch might once have died. Do the rumors say where Crouch is supposed to be?

Hermione. It could be an Ministry trap. The person who called to you could just as easily be a Dark wizard like Snape, with this Crouch rumor dangled in front of us to lure you in. Don't forget that Albus wasn't counting them. Both Snape and the Dark Lord were still alive when he said you were the last Auror.

Harry. That's a possibility. It could also be just a garbled rumor. But if it's not . . .

Harry and Hermione hold their gazes for a moment.

Hermione. He's in Little Hangleton. At least according to the rumor Neville quoted for us.

Harry analyzes a map of Little Hangleton.

Harry. Not very populated. Less than three million people, all told. Or at least back when this was compiled. It doesn't look like anyone's taken official notice of the region in fifteen years. It's just the sort of place an Auror might choose to hide from the Ministry.

Hermione. You'll be leaving right away?

Harry. No, I'll wait until you and Hagrid are ready to go. That way I can fly out with your broomship. Give you that much protection, at least.

Hermione. Thanks. I hope you know what you're doing.

Harry. So do I. But whether I do or not, it's something I have to try. That much I know for sure.

Hermione. I suppose that's one of the things I'm going to have to get used to: letting the Magic move me around.

Harry. Don't worry about it. It doesn't happen all at once. You get to ease into it. Come on. Let's go see how they're coming with Percy.

Harry and Hermione head back toward the Ford Anglia.

Enter Ron, Dean, Percy, and Hedwig.

Percy. At last. Master Harry. Please tell General Thomas that what he intends to do is a serious violation of my primary programming.

Harry. It will be all right, Percy. Dean and his people will be careful that nothing happens to you.

Harry glances at Dean, who nods.

Percy. But Master Harry . . .

Dean. Actually, Percy, you could think of this as really just fulfilling your primary programming in a more complete way. I mean, isn't a translation droid supposed to speak for the person he's translating for?

Percy. I am primarily a prefect droid. And I say again that this is not the sort of thing covered by any possible stretch of protocol.

One of Dean's employees glance up at him, having completed the program.

Dean. We're ready.

Dean flips a switch on Percy.

Give it a second . . . All right. Say something, Percy.

Percy. [in Hermione's voice] Oh, dear.

Hedwig whistles softly.

Dean. That's it. The perfect decoy for the perfect lady.

Percy. This feels decidedly strange.

Ron. Sounds good. We ready to go, then?

Dean. Give me an hour to log some last-minute instructions. It will take our broomship that long to get here, anyway.

Ron. We'll meet you at the ship.

Exit Dean.

Come on. We had better get back to the Anglia.

Hermione. [smiles] It will be all right, Ron. Hagrid and the other half-giants will take good care of me.

Ron. They'd better. [to Percy] Let's go, Percy. I can hardly wait to hear what Hagrid thinks of your new voice.

Percy. Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

Exit Ron and Percy.

Hermione. Do I really sound like that?

Exit all.