It was not at all difficult for Moody to arrange events so that when Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione ambushed Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, the two Death Eaters were together. Harry waited, Disillusioned, in the shadows just outside of the light from the nearest streetlamp. They were in a very quiet suburb of London; the houses were few and far between. The four of them formed a loose square around the two men. Harry watched and waited until he saw the Imperius Curse that Moody had placed them under lift. Their feet stopped shuffling, and the glassy look left their eyes. Before they could process their change in location, Harry sent two quick spells to block their access to their Dark Marks.

"Good evening, Mr. Crabbe," Harry said pleasantly. He stepped toward them. "Good evening, Mr. Goyle."

"Potter?" Crabbe said dumbly. "It's Potter!"

"The Dark Lord will like this," Goyle grinned.

Harry ducked the Stunning Spells that came his way. "Now, now… there's no need to be rude."

"Can't tell us what to do, Potter," Crabbe said. "Now, why don't you come along quietly? You don't stand a chance against us."

While Crabbe spoke, Goyle surreptitiously slipped forward. Harry could not help but feel mildly impressed. He had thought that these two were complete idiots; he had even felt slightly disappointed that all the interesting Death Eaters were still in Azkaban. But the two had a sort of primitive – not intelligence; he would never think that about these fools – instinct. They moved like animals on the hunt.

"I'm not afraid of you two morons," Harry said coldly. He raised his wand.

"Can't do magic outside of school," Crabbe said. "Ministry will find you."

Harry grinned at him. "I'm not afraid of the Trace, either. See… you two, stupid though you are, are adults. I can do all the magic I want around adults, and the Ministry won't have any idea. Isn't that wicked?"

Harry threw up a magical shield so fast that the red light had barely left Goyle's wand. He took a moment to notice that these long months of training with Moody, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Dumbledore had improved his skills. He heard a slight sound, and knew that the others had closed in. Two quick swirls of his wand, and Crabbe and Goyle were Disarmed. Harry chuckled at the dumbfounded looks on their faces – Merlin knew that their sons came by it honestly.

When Ginny and Ron revealed themselves, Harry watched with great pleasure as the mean looks slid off the faces of Crabbe and Goyle and were replaced with confusion and fear. They were outnumbered and they knew it. Harry felt an immediate shift in the air pressure, and knew that Hermione had successfully performed the Anti-Apparation Jinx.

"Voldemort," Harry said in a hard voice. Crabbe and Goyle flinched. "Voldemort has successfully turned the entire Wizarding world against me. I have two friends. Their family hates me. He killed two people, and successfully turned my three other friends against me. Unfortunately, I have been given the task of defeating Voldemort. Do not think that just because I'm hated and reviled that I'll give up. I don't care how much the stupid Ministry is willing to pay for me to be caught. I will defeat Voldemort."

Harry allowed himself a small smile when the truth of his message sunk into their thick skulls. He had done what he could to protect Neville and Luna; it would have to be enough for now.

"You can't defeat the Dark Lord, Potter," Goyle said. His face was twisted into an ugly grimace. He looked on the verge of attack, but he was apparently cognizant of the fact that three wands (that he knew of) were pointed at them.

Harry shook his head. "You keep telling me what I can and can't do. I can't fight you – but look! You're Disarmed! I can't do underage magic"—he exaggeratedly looked around for owls from the Ministry—"but I don't see any consequences of it, now do I?"

Crabbe and Goyle appeared to have no answer to this.

"I may be almost alone," Harry said.

"But he's got us," Ron said.

"And if we die," Ginny added, "we'll be sure to take Voldemort down with us."

"Maybe Mum and Dad will figure it out that we're not evil," Ron said bitterly. Harry knew that it was only partially an act… and it made it all the more believable.

"I don't care about Mum and Dad," Ginny said sharply. "They're fools who believe anything the effing Ministry tells them."

"I'm not sure that I'll even forgive them," Harry said honestly. He turned back to Crabbe and Goyle, glad that the scripted performance was over. He narrowed his eyes, considering them. He was grimly satisfied to see that Crabbe was trembling – he suspected it was from fear, rather than rage. "I've a message for you to take to Voldemort," Harry said conversationally. "Tell him that you're the last Death Eaters I meet up with who aren't going to die. And – believe me – I'm only letting you live so you can be my messengers."

"Harry," Ron said. "There are two of them."

"Only one of them needs to carry the message," Ginny pointed out. "You could kill one of them right now."

Harry pretended to think about it. "Don't be scared, Mr. Goyle," he said softly. "I couldn't… imagine killing the fathers of boys I went to school with. Although… I never did like your sons much."

"They are arseholes," Ron said agreeably.

"Can't say I'm surprised," Ginny said. "Look at who they have for fathers. Death Eaters don't exactly set the best examples for their children."

"That's not fair, Ginny," Ron said. "We're about as different from Mum and Dad as possible."

"Quiet," Harry said, "while I decide what to do with them."

He already knew exactly what he was going to do to them. But he did enjoy the sweat that shined on their faces. Goyle's beady little eyes were darting back and forth from side to side, obviously trying to see a way out. Crabbe kept clenching and unclenching his fist. Harry knew that he was trying to touch his Dark Mark, to summon Voldemort, but that would not happen until Harry was good and ready for it.

First, he snapped their wands. "It's too bad you Death Eaters decided to kill Mr. Ollivander, isn't it," Harry said. "Good luck finding another wandmaker."

"Y-y-you c-c-c—"

"I can't?" Harry said. "I'm pretty sure that I just did. Maybe," he said gently, "you should think before you kill. Although you won't be killing ever again." Harry gripped his wand tightly. He searched his own feelings again, wondering if this was the right thing to do. But then he thought about Mr. Lovegood and Mrs. Longbottom, and how they were gone forever. And he thought of how Crabbe and Goyle had laid waste to Muggles and magical folk alike during the height of Voldemort's powers. He did not feel even a prick of conscience – just regret at the necessity.

"Ready?" he asked Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. He flicked his wand at Goyle and he was bound so tightly that he could not move. He then turned his attention to Crabbe, and said "Legilimens!" at the same time as Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.

It was remarkably easy to almost break them, though Harry felt wretched and ill after seeing the foul, evil memories. Goyle had killed a mother and two adolescents, and he had laughed while he had done it. Crabbe had used the Imperius Curse to rape Muggle women. Goyle had once killed an old man using the Bludgeoning Hex… it had taken minutes for the man to die. He saw death, torture, and rape, and when the four of them brought the Death Eaters to the point of insanity by battering their mental walls with Legilimency, Harry did not feel the slightest bit guilty.

All four of them were breathing rather quickly. Harry trembled with rage… he longed to kill them for what they had done…

"Ron, no!" Ginny said loudly. She was holding Ron back; Harry could tell that Hermione had joined in the efforts. Ron's face was blank with rage as he fought the hold. "We can't kill them!"

Ron tried to shove her off; his face was blank with anger. A large part of Harry wanted nothing more than to help Ron kill them. But something about Ron's lack of control seemed to steady Harry, and he was able to take a step back from his swirling emotions. "Muffliato!" Harry said, not wanting Voldemort to view this conversation through his own Legilimency. "We can't kill them, Ron. Ginny's right. They have a message to deliver. Besides, Voldemort will probably kill them once he's done extracting their memories."

Ron looked as though he were about to argue, but he forced himself to calm down. "I hope he does," Ron said savagely.

"They won't be much use to him," Ginny pointed out. "Besides, one more use of Legilimency, and they'll be completely insane. I can't imagine any of the other Death Eaters caring for them, or sending them to St. Mungo's. After what we've just seen, their wives almost certainly won't lift a finger to help."

Ron's nostrils flared, and he paced, still breathing quite heavily. "They – make – me – sick," he growled.

"You're not alone," Harry said quietly. He stared down at the two Death Eaters. Their eyes were open and staring – they were not dead, but they were on the brink of insanity. Neither of them had ever learned anything more than rudimentary Occlumency. Even Harry, who was not nearly as skilled at Legilimency as Moody, Snape, or Dumbledore, had been able to batter through them on his second try. It had, however, taken all four of them to destroy the minds of Crabbe and Goyle.

Certainly effective, Harry thought, but I'm not sure if I want to repeat the experience.

"Take the wards down," Harry said to Hermione. "And grab Ron. We need to be ready to get out of here the moment those Dark Marks are touched. Actually… you could just leave now."

"We'll leave when you do, Harry," Ginny said firmly.

"Fine," Harry muttered. He pointed his wand at the Death Eaters. "Imperio!"

He only waited a moment after forcing Crabbe to touch his Dark Mark before turning on the spot and Apparating away from the quiet street to Grimmauld Place. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had arrived the instant before he had. It was, Harry noted, glancing at the grandfather clock, already past two in the morning, and he was dead tired. But Sirius was waiting for them in the kitchen, and Dumbledore was probably there as well. He sighed, thinking longingly of a bed, and turned to walk down to the basement.

He knew the instant that Voldemort had used Legilimency on Crabbe and Goyle, because he fell heavily against the wall. His scar burned like fire, and he in his veins pounded a rage that was not his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the moment to pass. Ginny threw his arm over her shoulders, and helped him to stand upright.

"Thanks," Harry murmured.

"Always," said Ginny.

"Crabbe and Goyle have been broken," Harry announced, walking into the kitchen. Sirius, Remus, Moody, Tonks, and Dumbledore looked up. Snape did not react; Harry knew that Snape, who had devised this plan, had expected no less. "And Voldemort's found them already. I think it's safe to say that he got the message."

"We made it quite obvious that we're alone in this," Ginny said.

"So what do we do now?" Ron asked. "I mean, after we sleep for a while. Do we wait for him to make another move? Who d'you think he'll go after?"

"I am not sure that he will go after anyone just yet," said Dumbledore. "I think that he will now redouble his efforts to obtain the prophecy."

"Yeah," said Harry. "That's what I thought, too."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry should have expected it; he should have realized that some things were probably just fated to happen, no matter what else had changed.

All was quiet for nearly a month, though the tension at Grimmauld Place ran high. Harry felt as though his nerves had stretched almost to the breaking point, and he knew that the others felt the same way. He thanked Merlin for Dumbledore's Army (he refused to think of it as Potter's Army), and the outlet for release it offered. The students were coming along at almost a breakneck pace; Harry supposed that it had something to do with the way Moody prowled around, yelling at them.

The members of Potter's Army did not resent this; in fact, they embraced it. They read the Daily Prophet and they knew that people were disappearing. They knew the truth; they knew that Voldemort was prowling the shadows and murdering those who would oppose him. He was blackmailing and jinxing people into following him. At least once a week, Harry found evidence of Voldemort in the pages of the Daily Prophet, and the students were just as aware.

Sometimes, particularly after a long day of training with Moody, Harry startled awake in the middle of the night, certain that he had heard someone shout "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" in his ear. Still, he found that he could not complain. With Hermione constantly forcing him to learn more and more new hexes and curses, and Moody relentlessly teaching him how to move quickly and decisively, Harry could not help but feel slightly astonished at the rate he improved.

He wasn't the only one. All the underage members of the Army were – and that included Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. After their thrice-weekly sessions, Harry generally glowed with pride and awe.

"Great job, Neville!" Ron said enthusiastically during the second to last meeting before Christmas. Neville had successfully mastered the spell that caused quicksand to appear beneath the victim's feet. Harry beamed at him; it was a tough spell.

"I'll bet Luna could do it too," Harry said. "Where is Luna, anyway?" He craned his neck, thinking she might have arrived after they started practicing, and Harry simply hadn't noticed her.

"She's not feeling well," Neville said. "Told me earlier that she wouldn't be here tonight."

"I hope she's all right," Hermione said worriedly. "Tell her that if she doesn't feel better soon, she needs to go see Madam Pomfrey… I know she doesn't always think about stuff like that…"

"I don't think she's physically ill," Neville said stiffly. Harry knew why. Neville had barely even mentioned the murder of his grandmother since it had happened, and if Luna was grieving for her dad – entirely understandable, as Christmas was swiftly approaching – Neville was probably uncomfortable with stating that plainly. He obviously did not want any of them to mention Augusta Longbottom's death.

"Ah," Harry said, glancing away from Neville, and feeling more than a little uncomfortable, himself. "Well, I'll probably see her next time… we've got a gift for her – and you…"

But Luna was not there at the next meeting either and they could not deliver the book of odd creatures (written as a collaborative effort between Newt Scamander and his grandson, Rolf) Hermione had found for her while browsing through a catalogue. Harry grimaced. He did not want Luna to feel like she was alone in her grief. He wanted to be there for her.

Harry pulled his copy of the Marauder's Map out of the pocked of his robes and opened it up. He stared at it, searching for Luna's dot. "Hey, Ginny? Could you look for Luna on here?" he said in a low voice. "I think she's grieving for her dad."

Ginny scanned it, though she was somewhat distracted by the fact that the other students were flying up into the air as if dangled by invisible hooks around her. "Good job, Dean!" she said loudly. "I'm looking, Harry, but I don't—"

"Harry, it's almost nine," Hermione warned.

Harry blew the whistle that ended the session. "Well done, everyone," he said. "You've come so far in such a small amount of time… frankly, I'm amazed. We'll pick right back up after the holidays…"

"Merry Christmas, Harry!" Seamus said loudly. There were loud choruses of Merry Christmas. The students filed out of the room in twos and threes, and Dumbledore, Sirius and Moody left to meet Remus and Tonks for a drink in the private room at the Hog's Head Inn.

"Why were you looking for Luna, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Oh… Neville said on Monday that she was having a hard time about her dad," Harry said. "I was going to try to talk to her… or maybe deploy Hermione and you to do it for me. I don't like the idea of her crying all by herself."

"Everyone deals with grief differently, Harry," Hermione said gently. "I think it's possible that Luna just needs privacy."

"I suppose," Harry said.

Harry did not think that any of them (except, perhaps, Sirius) were looking forward to this Christmas. Ginny grew paler and more thoughtful the closer they came to the holiday. Ron grew more irritable, and he and Hermione took to snapping at each other to relieve their tension. Privately, Harry thought that they could do a lot more good for each other if they just made love, but he had never pretended to understand their relationship.

Four days before Christmas, Harry yawned widely and shoved away the Evening Prophet. The news had had nothing to say about what had happened to Crabbe and Goyle. Harry suspected that whatever had been done to them had been done quietly. Good, Harry thought. One less complication with the Ministry. He shoved his chair back from the table, said goodnight to Moody and Remus, and Flooed back over to the house in Godric's Hollow.

Ginny was toweling her hair dry when Harry entered their room. "I just talked to Luna," she said sleepily. "She says she's doing all right. I told her that we're here for her if we need her."

Harry pulled off his robes and, wearing only boxers, slipped underneath the bedclothes. A naked Ginny joined him, and he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her hair. "Good night, bright eyes," he said. He closed his eyes, and made certain that his Obfuscomency shield was as strong as he could make it. He did not think that Voldemort would attempt to gain the prophecy this night… but it was possible that Voldemort could decide to send Nagini a day earlier than last time.

"Good night, Harry," sighed Ginny.

Harry drifted off to sleep, feeling quite warm and pleasant. He smiled while he slept; he had peaceful dreams for once… Ginny was laughing, and everyone in Potter's – Dumbledore's – Army had joined them on a picnic in the Forest of Dean. Daphne Greengrass claimed that she was the Queen of Slytherin, and Harry thought that was so true and yet so hilarious at the same time.

And then he was a snake, gliding across the floor toward a door. A red-haired man slept against it, head drooping and mouth slightly open. The snake (Harry) stopped and eyed him warily. Nagini was not supposed to deviate from what she was supposed to do… she was not here to kill this man…

The red-haired man grunted, and woke with a start. Nagini did not give him time to react or to grab the stick that made magic, so she attacked. Her jaws locked onto him once… twice… and once more. The man was screaming, and then he was still…

Harry pulled himself out of the vision with immense effort. He sat up… Ginny had her hand on his shoulder, and her eyes were wide with fright. For a moment, he just stared at her. Then he leapt from the bed. He was already turning on the spot when he said, "your dad," and Disapparated.

He thanked Merlin that the Ministry was not yet so paranoid that they had blocked all Apparation from the outside. Harry was just fifteen years old, after all, and he could not be expected to know how to Apparate… The Atrium was completely deserted, for which Harry was extremely grateful. The ground flew by beneath his feet, and his arms pumped as he sprinted to the elevator.

While the lift moved with inexorable slowness, Harry realized that he still wore only his underwear. He grimaced, pulled them off, and transfigured them into robes. They were scratchy and tight, but they covered him much better than his underwear had. Now is not the time to be modest, Harry told himself firmly. Still, he felt more comfortable in the robes.

The lift doors opened and Harry sprinted out of them and down the corridor. He could see the snake… and he could see Arthur Weasley lying in a pool of his own blood. He was still meters away when he sent the Bludgeoning Hex at Nagini. She was in constant, writhing motion, and the spell missed her. So did the next, and the next. Frustrated, Harry whispered "Avada Kedavra." But the fact that she was also a living vessel for a Horcrux protected her, as he had known it would. Nagini would never allow herself to be sacrificed so that Voldemort might be defeated…

"Stop. I command it," Harry told her in Parseltongue. He dared not look down at Arthur any more than he had… Voldemort was watching… he could not let him know that he cared. "Stay away from the prophecy."

"I do not obey you," Nagini hissed.

Harry raised his wand, and brought it crashing down with a force that sent the snake flying several feet. "Sssomeone will hear that," Harry smiled. "I've just set off the wards."

Harry circled her warily. She still did not attempt to escape, nor did she attempt to retrieve the prophecy. He slipped a little in Mr. Weasley's blood. He stared down at the red-haired man; he did not look well. Harry would have to leave and take him to St. Mungo's… anger battled with his conscience. It was stupid and useless, but Harry suddenly hated everything about the man, including the way he was bleeding to death, and could not do anything to save himself. And because of that (Harry ignored the fact that he could not kill Nagini this night anyway), Harry would have to let a Horcrux go free…

He watched, nostrils flaring, when Nagini slithered away… called back to her master… he sent a Blasting Hex and a Bludgeoning Hex after her, and felt a little better when he saw it hurt her. Pieces of the floor were gouged away. The otherwise silent corridor sounded as if it were being attacked by a demolition crew. Harry practically screamed the curses, wanting to make her bleed, yet not wanting to tip off Voldemort that he was attacking Horcruxes… they had not yet replaced the locket in the potion…

Harry knelt, staring at the wound. He had little knowledge of healing, but he knew that it was dangerous for him to move Mr. Weasley without at least attempting to staunch the blood. Harry wished he could remember the spell Snape had used long ago when Harry had attacked Draco Malfoy with Sectumsempra. But he could not… He must work quickly, before he was joined by Aurors.

"Skepey," Harry said. It was a very weak spell meant to stop paper cuts and the like. But Harry thought that the wound had closed a little. He siphoned off most of the blood and stared, aghast, at the deep wound and the crushed ribs. "Skepey! Skepey! Skepey!"

He was just about to take Mr. Weasley to St. Mungo's (hoping that he had been able to do enough), when several things happened at once. His only warning was a quiet shuffle, and a deep voice said "Stupefy!"

Harry had no time to raise his wand to defend himself. The red light arced toward him from Kingsley Shacklebolt's wand—

And someone shouted "Protego!" and the Shield Charm blossomed in front of Harry, who felt deep confusion. He did not know that voice. It was not any member of the Order of the Phoenix, not even those such as Dedalus Diggle or Hestia Jones, who did not know the full secret. It was, in fact, like no other voice he had heard before… Harry could not even tell if it was male or female, as if it had been magically disguised. Before he could react, something tumbled in the air and struck Harry on the shoulder and bounced away. A small hourglass—

Harry took his eyes from it with effort. "Kingsley," he said. "Listen – Arthur Weasley is badly hurt… a giant snake got him. We need to get him to St. Mungo's."

Kingsley did not answer, but kept his wand pointed straight at Harry's head. As soon as the Shield Charm fell, Harry would be Stunned, and it would be over… everything would be over. Harry did not think he would survive the trip to Azkaban… not with Lucius Malfoy as politically powerful as he was.

"Kingsley," Harry said desperately. "If there's anything – anything at all that makes you think maybe this situation is not what you think… if you have doubts about anything… help me get Arthur Weasley to St. Mungo's, and I'll tell you everything."

They stared at each other for long moments. Harry became increasingly aware that the spell he had used was failing, and Mr. Weasley was bleeding as heavily as before. Kingsley appeared to be searching for something… anything. He furrowed his brow – and lowered his wand.

"Get the Aurors here," Harry said. "The watch needs to stay. That prophecy has got to be guarded."

"But—"

Harry gestured at Mr. Weasley. "No time."

"I'm not sure I trust you," Kingsley said.

"But you do," Harry said. "Just a little, but that's enough."

"Give me your wand," Kingsley said.

Harry considered him. They needed to get to St. Mungo's; Kingsley was not firing hexes at him, but the Auror was still wary. Harry did not like the idea of handing over his only weapon, but Kingsley was honorable, and he had already extended his trust… He handed it over, grimacing. Kingsley looked stunned; and he frowned at Harry's wand and pocketed it.

"Er—" Harry said. "How are we going to get to St. Mungo's? Head up to the Atrium and Apparate there?"

"Hold on a moment," Kingsley said distractedly. He pulled out what looked like a silver pocket watch. He tapped out a message, and it flared brightly. "I'm alerting Scrimgeour and the others. And no, I'm a senior member of the Auror Department; I can Apparate all of us from here."

"Will you Disillusion me?" Harry asked. Kingsley stepped toward him and with one hand, gripped Harry's shoulder, and with the other, tapped Harry's head with his wand. Harry felt the cold, trickling sensation spread from his head down his body.

"Don't think of disappearing," Kingsley said, though he did not seem to think that Harry actually would. "I've got you. Reach down and grab Arthur."

Harry reached for his wife's father; as he did so, he noticed the hourglass that had hit him. He grabbed that as well. A second after he had Mr. Weasley's shoulder in a tight grip, Kingsley whirled them away into crushing darkness. Before Harry even had time to blink at the quiet street outside the perpetually closed department store (which was actually the hospital for witches and wizards in Britain), Kingsley hit him with the Body-Bind Curse, and propped Harry up against the wall.

Stupid! Harry thought angrily, cursing himself. You just had to blindly trust him, didn't you? Just because he's Kingsley doesn't mean he's an ally. But… why did he take me with him? He could have disabled me before he left. I could be already sitting in front of Scrimgeour and Fudge… the dementors could be on their way… These rather circular thoughts of self-anger and confusion kept him company for the long minutes that he was alone.

Kingsley returned after an absence of maybe twenty minutes. "Talk, Potter."

"Not here," Harry hissed. "It isn't safe here."

"If you think I'm going to let you lead me into a trap—" Kingsley began.

"Not a trap," Harry said. "I'll make any kind of vow you want; I wouldn't trap you. Listen, Apparate us to 7 Skyview Lane, Godric's Hollow."

Kingsley considered this. He pulled out that silver pocket watch again. "See this?" he said. "This allows me to communicate instantly with Scrimgeour and the other senior members of the Auror Department. All I have to do is tap it with my wand. If you attempt to ambush or threaten me in any way,I will send this message, and I will give them your location."

Harry decided not to tell Kingsley that Sirius' house was protected with the Fidelius Charm, and the Aurors would be completely incapable of finding Harry. Instead, he nodded. Kingsley gripped his arm again, turned on the spot, and moments later, he and Kingsley stood in front of Sirius' house. Harry grimaced when he saw that it blazed with light, and he heard voices shouting.

"Walk in front of me, Potter," Kingsley said. He seemed completely stoic, as if the fact that Harry had a houseful of concerned allies did not surprise him one bit. Harry admired that; Merlin knew that he had to work on appearing emotionless – it was not for nothing that he had difficulties with Occlumency.

"They aren't going to hurt you," Harry said. "In fact, I reckon that everyone will be so happy to see you that they'll forget to be angry with me."

Kingsley didn't reply. He marched behind Harry and up the walk and to the door.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE SAYS! HARRY COULD BE IN DANGER!" Ginny shouted.

"—the Aurors. We're on alert, according to Scrimgeour," Tonks said. Kingsley stiffened. "We would know if—"

"OR HE'S ALREADY DEAD!" bellowed Ron.

Harry pushed open the door, bracing himself for the explosion that would come. "Hi, everyone. Look who I brought with me! Arthur's all right, by the way. He's in St. Mungo's. Voldemort didn't get the prophecy."

Ginny and Ron spun around in the foyer; they were completely furious. Harry repressed the urge to take a large step back, escape, and hide out until their anger ran its course. Right now they were yelling at Tonks, but in about three seconds they would have a new target: Harry. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Hermione stood together – all in their night things – some distance apart from Ginny and Ron.

"Look!" Harry said again, when the silence became too uncomfortable. "I brought Kingsley with me."

"Nymphadora Tonks," Kingsley said. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"Doing my best to help this lot defeat Voldemort," Tonks said. "And don't call me Nymphadora."

"So it's true?" Kingsley asked. Harry studied him carefully; he looked unwell, but he did not appear shocked. "You-Know-Who is back?"

One by one, everyone nodded. Kingsley sat down on the sofa, still clutching two wands in his fist. "I've thought this might be the case for a while…" he said softly, as though speaking to himself. "Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban at the end of last year suddenly congregating again… Yaxley and the Carrows having Dark Marks… Scrimgeour and Fudge were so certain it was you, Potter. But it didn't make sense."

"Good to know that my protégée isn't a booby like everyone else at the Ministry," Moody growled. Kingsley gaped at him. "Don't look at me like that, Shacklebolt. A mad Death Eater was impersonating me last year. He's the one dead, not me."

"How – but…" Kingsley stammered. "What in Merlin's name is going on?"

"Will someone tell Dumbledore that we need his Pensieve?" Harry grinned.

Some three hours later, Kingsley emerged from the Pensieve, ashen-faced and blinking rather abruptly. Harry, who had spent the last hour being lectured by everyone else that he was not to ever do what he just did again, was extremely relieved to see him return. Ginny glowered at him. She had not accepted his explanation for leaving her behind – she seemed to think that he shouldn't have cared that she'd been naked.

"Did you want your father to die?" Harry finally said loudly.

"No," Ron said immediately. "Don't try to turn this around on us. You just left; you didn't say anything to anyone."

"I didn't have time!" Harry said.

"It's true," Ginny said reluctantly. "He didn't even pull on his robes. That isn't a bad transfiguration job, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry said. "Listen, nothing bad happened. Your dad's all right. Voldemort didn't get the prophecy. And he hasn't figured out that I can see into his mind. And the Aurors will likely double the security, so Voldemort will think twice about going to get it until we're ready for him to try. And Kingsley found out. So tell me – did I fail completely?"

"You know you didn't," Ron flared up immediately. "But you've got to stop running off by yourself. You aren't alone, Harry!"

"I know," Harry said sharply. "I know that I'm not alone. I'm sorry if I thought it best to get there as quickly as possible. And if you were that worried, you could've joined me. You don't need an engraved invitation, Ron!"

"Thanks, I wondered about that," Ron said sarcastically. "We didn't exactly know where you were. We knew it wasn't the Burrow, but—"

"But you weren't expecting it to happen again," Harry said in a more subdued voice.

"Do they always do this?" Kingsley asked Tonks.

"Usually only when they've been drinking," Tonks replied. "Though they've been having a bit of a rough time the last month."

"We're sitting right here!" Ron and Harry said in unison.

Hermione snorted, and Ginny hid a smile.

"Harry, Ron," Remus said, "I'm sure that Kingsley has quite a few questions for all of us… perhaps we could wait until later to keep fighting?"

They all answered probing questions until dawn. There was a rosy glow that did not come from the lamps, which had remained lit through the night, but from the lightening sky. Harry was barely able to keep his eyes propped open, and his voice was starting to slur. He knew that Ron felt the same exhaustion, and neither would have the energy to carry on their argument. He glanced over at him; Ron and Hermione were sitting together in an armchair. Harry met Ron's eyes, and Ron gave half a shrug and a grimace that Harry took to mean: I forgive you, but I'll pound you if you do it again.

"So which of you were helping Harry tonight?" Kingsley asked.

Harry bolted upright, cursing himself for being so stupid. But with Kingsley and Arthur… he'd completely forgotten his mysterious benefactor. "It wasn't any of them," Harry said. He turned to Dumbledore. "Professor—"

"—Harry, we have gone through this any number of times," Dumbledore said. "You are no longer one of my students. You are to call me by my first name."

"Sorry, A-Albus," Harry found it quite as difficult to be familiar with Dumbledore as others did saying Voldemort's name. "Kingsley was about to Stupefy me, and someone threw up a Shield Charm. I couldn't tell who it was – whoever it was had a very good disguise. I couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman."

Everyone gaped at him. "Harry – you're serious?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "And whoever it was threw this at me," Harry pulled the hourglass out of the pocket of his robes. On closer inspection, he realized that his original perception of the object was correct.

"But, Harry!" Hermione said. "That's a Time-Turner!"

"What the—"

"What in the name of Merlin's left nut does that mean?" Ron asked loudly.

Harry met Dumbledore's eyes. There was no hint of the familiar twinkle, only evidence that the intelligent brain behind them was working very hard. Harry waited. He did not expect the older wizard to know what this meant, but he trusted Dumbledore's guesses more than almost anyone else's certainty.

"I think," Dumbledore said slowly, "there is someone else who knows about the time travel."

--

--

Author's Note:

Hmm… theories, anyone?

Also, I foresee questions regarding Nagini. I've thought (since I read the book) that Horcruxes have protections against damage; it would take something like Fiendfyre, basilisk fangs, or the Sword of Gryffindor to destroy her. Harry assumes that Voldemort knows this, and would be suspicious of Harry going after her with one of those things. Harry does not want Voldemort to know that he knows about the Horcruxes. And, yes, he intends to get rid of the cup before he tackles Nagini.

Again… I suspect that people will wonder why Arthur was attacked. The Ministry, as I've stated a few times, has been using its people to guard the door. But how was it that Arthur just so happened to be there? That will be answered in a later chapter. And no, it doesn't have anything to do with him knowing about the time travel.

As requested by a reviewer (and I can see why this is a question), I will now attempt to explain why Fudge is being stupid about training the kids to defend themselves. The Ministry is deeply concerned by the fact that Ginny and Ron left to be with Harry; they do not want to risk other friends of Harry's learning combat. I don't really think it's that much of a stretch – Ministry paranoia and poor decision-making skills are major themes in the original works. I know I should have explained this more clearly in the last chapter… When I go back and heavily edit this story, I imagine that will change somewhat.

Also, I would like to thank my new betas, Simon and Jack. Er – sorry I'm a bit short on self-control. And for those who like stories like this, Jack's (penname Worldmaker) new story Furious Angels is already fabulous.