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"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards." The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky shook and tried to suppress her sobs at my side.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Everything after that became a blur again. It seemed as though my entire body was aching, and my mind still felt a bit cloudy. I somewhat remember what happened to Crouch. He was Kissed, and Dumbledore had been furious. Even through my haze, I could feel the magic radiating from the man. I remember Harry and I being forced up to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey fixed what I hadn't already. She hadn't been too happy when Harry and I refused to use separate beds, but she must've seen the desperation in our eyes because she finally allowed it.

Hermione and Ron had arrived and gently murmured what had happened after we were led away, but somehow I knew that the next Daily Prophet article would make it sound much worse. I slipped in and out of consciousness for a while, and I was awake enough to give Remus and Snuffles hollow smiles before sinking back into my own core. Since leaving Moody's office, I had been mentally holed up in my magical core with my inner wolf. She curled her giant body around mine and together, we mourned the loss of one of our pack, simultaneously swearing revenge on that sniveling bastard, Wormtail.

I was forcefully pulled out of my hole by Dumbledore and Fudge's argument about Voldemort. I was more than ready to simply sink again, but I groggily sat up, startling all in the room. "Miss Grey, I insist that you lie back down. You need to rest!" Madam Pomfrey insisted.

I vaguely waved my hand and clutched my head, trying to stop the spinning and pounding headache. As if sensing my condition, Madam Pomfrey quickly handed me a Headache Potion, which helped with both. "M-Minister Fudge," I said, pulling my cold mask firmly in place. I stood up slowly, making it seem as though I were giving Fudge time to gather himself, but I was actually making sure I didn't collapse again.

"Lady Grey, please tell me the Headmaster is mistaken!" Fudge pleaded, mopping sweat off his forehead with his lime green bowler hat.

"I'm afraid that that would be lying sir. I—I'd be willing to turn over my memories of tonight to the Auror's Office." I offered. Fudge blustered about lies and other nonsense.

"Memories can be tampered with!" he insisted hotly. I took two smooth step forwards, and it wasn't until I was nearly touching noses with Fudge did I realize that I'd had a growth spurt. Previously 4'11, I figured that I was at least 5'2 now. Batting the thought away, I gave the Minister my most even, hard stare.

"You would dare insinuate that the Head of the Grey family would lie, especially on a matter this important?" I said slowly. Everyone in the room knew that something had changed as Fudge became even more flustered.

"N-no L-Lady Grey, I w-would never." He stuttered.

"Good, because we both know how dangerous that would be for all involved. Now, you can either believe what we are telling you, which is the truth, that Voldemort—" several flinches, "has returned. You can prepare the Aurors, Unspeakables, and Hit Wizards to be able to fight the coming war, or… you could ignore it. You could lie to the public, lead them all into a false sense of security, and allow our world to be torn apart by a war we were unprepared to fight."

You could've heard a pin drop in the Hospital Wing after I gave the Minister for Magic alternatives. It seemed that no one so much as dared to breathe too loudly or at all. I felt them staring from me to Fudge, and back again. Dumbfounded at the turn of events and curious as to what's going to happen next. Looking in Fudge's eyes, I knew nothing had changed and I mentally shrugged. Whether he acknowledged it or not, I was not going to allow this war to destroy everything.

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who…Well…" Fudge shot Harry a look and I suddenly understood.

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry suddenly growled. Almost everyone else jumped, they hadn't known he was awake, but I had heard his breathing change from the usual slow, deeps breath of sleep. He tried to get up, and I hurried over to prop him up against the mountain of pillows behind him. He was still pale and clearly not himself, but the same could be said for me. Harry was still obviously exhausted, and like me, he was running on anger at the moment.

The cold glare Harry summoned for the Minister made me quite proud. It seemed he'd taken a leaf from my book after all these months. "I saw the Death Eaters. I can give you their names. Lucius Malfoy—"

Snape made a sudden movement, and my wand was in my hand and pointed at his heart in the same millisecond. He remained perfectly still, and looked wary at the undoubtedly raged look in my eye. All eyes in the ward watched us warily. "I respect you greatly Professor, but I no longer trust anyone with the safety of Harry. Any sudden movements towards him from anybody will be seen as a threat." I said loud and clearly, making everyone in the room, including Dumbledore and Fudge understood.

Snape nodded curtly and I lowered my wand, still keeping it gripped in my hand. I saw the ghost of a smirk on Harry's face as he looked from Snape to me, but it disappeared to anger after what Fudge said next.

"Malfoy was cleared!" said Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family—donations to excellent causes—" I understood the underlying message in those words: Fudge was taking bribes from Malfoy Sr. No surprises there.

"Macnair!" Harry continued.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"

"Avery—Nott—Crabbe—Goyle—"

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore—the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too—his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them—the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

"You had better be careful with how you speak of him, Minister." I said coldly. Fudge's mouth snapped shut.

"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpled. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors—"

"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage. "The second step you must take—and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"You—you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants—people hate them, Dumbledore—end of my career—"

"You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood—"

I felt my headache returning. "That's enough!" I shouted. Dumbledore blinked and the air of power diminished slightly. His eyes weren't twinkling but they weren't blazing anymore either. "We are not here," I said, anger and frustration clearly in my voice, "to argue and shout, acting like a bunch of first years!"

I looked at the Headmaster. "Look at this man," I said, pointing to Fudge, "you already know, without a doubt, that he will ignore this very real issue, the issue of war, until it comes waltzing on his doorstep!" I spun angrily and took a step toward Fudge. He matched it with a step backwards.

"And you," I practically snarled, "are behaving like a bigoted, ignorant, coward!" There were many gasps in the room, but somehow, I knew that Harry was mentally cheering me on. Fudge seemed to deflate and expand with fear and angry. "You are going to do nothing, no matter what any of us say. Merlin himself could come down here and tell you the truth and you still wouldn't believe it!" I lowered my voice to a normal tone that still carried loudly around the silent room.

"You would willingly put our entire world in danger to keep your image, but— how do you think the public will feel when they find out that you led them into a false sense of security, and allowed them to remain ignorant in the shadow of war?" I glared at the Minister in disgust. "Minister, you had better plan your next moves carefully, because I swear by Merlin, that if you make the wrong one, you will no longer be in office!"

Fudge seemed to angry and shocked to speak, and settled for storming out of the Hospital Wing. On his way past Harry's bed, he paused and dropped a sack of gold coins on the foot of his bed. "The winning for our… champion." He sneered before leaving in an angry blaze, slamming the doors behind him.

I whirled around and faced the people in the room. "Listen, you all know that Fudge will do anything in his power to either sweep this under the rug, or make us all out to be liars. I have a plan, and I have no doubt that most, if not all of you will be receiving letters from me over the summer." I ran my hand through my now wild, disheveled hair and blew out a breath.

"Now more than ever we have to stick together," I said, looking at each and every one of them. "Now is not the time for House rivalries, old suspicions, betrayal, or half-truths and outright lies. Now is not the time for coddling and trying to shield us. There is no shielding us from the war that we all know is coming. Without a doubt in my mind, I know that Voldemort," a few flinches, "will come for my Harry. I will gladly die to protect him from anyone, even that evil bastard!"

I took a deep breath. "Voldemort will come for us, and trying to hide us away because you all think we're children is not going to help at all. I'm not saying we need to be trained as weapons or soldiers, but we need to learn how to defend ourselves."

"Fudge— Fudge is not a threat at the moment, and I will see a new, better Minister in office, but until then, we need to prepare for the worst, because that is what's surely coming to us. We have to work together now, for the sake of those we love and care about, and the world we don't want destroyed by this war." I finished.

I saw the strong determination in Ron and Hermione's eyes, and the blazing love in Harry's, and I knew that if nothing else, those three would have my back. Looking at Dumbledore, I saw that he once again, looked every bit his age. I knew that he would be a great and powerful ally, if he'd start telling the whole truth, but the honest fact is that he was getting on in his age, and war was no place for the old man.

"As much as I fear admitting this," Dumbledore said softly, "Miss Grey is right. There is work to be done. Molly... Am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry—"

"Leave it to me," said Bill. He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, pulled me into a quick hug, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room. I was about to offer my aid, but something told me to save it until Dumbledore and I could speak privately.

After tactfully dismissing McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore had Sirius reveal himself to Snape, who immediately drew his wand. I calmly stepped between then, and pushed Snape's wand out of my face. "We are on the same side now. There is NO place for childish rivalries in war." I said.

"What is he doing here?" Snape hissed.

"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other." Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing. "I will settle, in the short term," said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any us."

Very slowly—but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill—Sirius and Snape moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly. "That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, looking between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher—the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

"But—" said Harry.

"It'll be fine Harry," I said quickly, shooting him a look. "Sirius will want to do his part in helping prepare. We'll see him soon enough."

"She's right Harry," Sirius said, discreetly giving Harry a look as well. He pulled Harry and I into hugs, before he transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone. "Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready... If you are prepared ..."

"I am," said Snape. He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely. I wondered at the vague assignment before I remembered what Dumbledore had said at Karkaroff's trial.

"Wait," I said, biting my lip. "Are… are you sure he has to do this?"

Dumbledore and Snape gave me piercing looks before the former sighed. "I would never ask Severus to do something like it, if it weren't crucial to the war effort."

I tentatively stepped forward, and hesitantly put my hand on Snape's shoulder. He seemed more shocked than anyone else in the room, especially as I squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. "Just—just be careful Professor. You might not be the nicest Professor around, but I doubt we could find one as knowledgeable as you. You…you're needed for more than just this." I said. Though he remained stoic, I could tell that Snape deeply appreciated everything I'd just said.

He simply nodded curtly. "Good luck," Dumbledore and I said in unison. Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius and it was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the Diggorys. Harry, Gia—take the rest of your potions, and get plenty of rest. I will see all of you later."

"Professor?" I said softly. Dumbledore peered sadly down at me, perhaps thinking about the task ahead. "Can you—" I blew out a shaky breath, "can you tell the Diggorys…Harry and I, we…" I felt the tears and rage coming again, "we tried to…save—"

"I will certainly pass on the message, Miss Grey." Dumbledore said kindly. He gently patted my shoulder, and swept out of the room. It seemed that Dumbledore's presence had forced me to appear and remain, because as soon as the door closed behind him, my strength disappeared, and my knees buckled. Tears were already splashing onto my clothes by the time Ron and Hermione hurried over to me, and eased me back into bed with Harry.

Mrs. Weasley, trying to discreetly wipe her eyes, said she'd return to check on us in a little while, leaving the trio and me together. I buried my face into Harry's neck, and as the tears came fast, I felt another wetness seeping into my hair, and tightened my arms around Harry as he did the same for me. We shifted and I heard a huge clinking crash hit the floor.

"Err Harry," Ron asked softly, "what do you want us to do with your winnings?"

"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."

"It wasn't your fault. Harry," Hermione whispered.

"I told him to take the cup with me," said Harry.

"Harry," I said in a choked, watery whisper. Even the effort to speak brought more tears to my eyes, "C-Cedric told you to take the cup too. What if you had listened to him and gotten hurt or killed? Would you have blamed him?"

"No," He gasped out, and I could hear the pain in his voice.

"You know," I whispered, "as well I do that Cedric wouldn't want us to feel guilty over his death. We gave him his final wish; we got his body back to his parents…"

My body shook as the sobs I had been furiously holding back overwhelmed me. Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep in the chairs on one side of our bed, leaning on each other for support. I felt Harry's own pain and misery rising and mixing with mine as we cried ourselves to sleep. As I slept, images of the Third Task rapidly flashed through my mind, pausing only long enough to taunt me before being replaced by another gruesome image. It was as I watched Cedric being murdered over and over again, that I bolted up in the middle of the night. I was sweating and shakily pushed sweat-plastered curls from my face as I got out of the Hospital Wing bed.

I had forced Harry to take Dreamless Sleep over an hour ago because he'd woken to his own nightmares, and I looked sadly at his still-troubled face. The ward was empty except for the four of us, and I supposed that Madam Pomfrey was asleep in her private quarters. The room was dark, only lit by the luminescent moonlight that shone through one of the many large windows. Feeling oddly compelled, I walked over to the largest window away from my friends and curled up on the padded sill. It was a full moon that night, and I felt powerful, I felt the magic and strength crackling beneath my skin. I felt better as the moonlight washed over me, and tilting my head back, I inhaled deeply and let out all of my misery and grief.

It came out as a long, haunting completely wolfish howl that echoed painfully through the night and out onto the grounds. As my own howl faded minutes later, an entire chorus of understanding howls reverberated from the Forbidden Forest, as the werewolves of the night shared in my misery. They hadn't known Cedric, but all of them had lost pack at some point and they understood the pain I felt. And as the night wore on, we howled our misery through the grounds of Hogwarts. Around four in the morning, I felt much more cleansed but I refused to move from beneath the moonlight.

My eyes were drifting shut when I felt strong arms slide beneath me, lift me up, and set me down again. Harry had climbed onto the windowsill with me and settled me in his lap. As I cuddled into him, he tucked the blanket he had brought over around us. "…such a beautiful and haunting sound…" Harry murmured.

Tilting my head up, I stared at his moon-washed features and turned back towards the window. Inhaling again, I let out another wolfish howl, this one still sad but slightly hopeful. It was met with another chorus of howls from the forest's werewolves. Harry hummed behind me, and I felt the vibration go through his chest. He tightened his arms around me, and we finally fell into peaceful sleep beneath the moon's loving embrace.

The next morning, I awoke in the warm embrace of Harry as the morning's sunlight beamed down on us. I almost thought Harry was asleep until I felt the normal rate of his breathing. He was very much awake. "Good morning love," I whispered, unwilling to break the morning's peace.

"Good morning," Harry whispered back.

Looking over, I saw that Ron and Hermione had crawled into one of the unoccupied beds in the middle of the night, and were holding each other tightly, perhaps more affected by recent events than I had originally thought. Harry and I remained on that windowsill for most of the morning, even eating a small breakfast that one of the school's house-elves brought to us. It was around nine that Dumbledore quietly entered the Hospital Wing. When he looked at us, I saw the sad look in his eye and knew that it was genuine. Dumbledore had faults, like the rest of us, his major fault being his drive to shield us from the world, even if it meant giving us half-truths, but I knew that he wasn't a bad man. He truly cared about all of Hogwart's inhabitants.

He didn't seem surprised that we were awake and he didn't say anything about Ron and Hermione, though a ghost of a smile flitted over his face before disappearing. "Good morning Professor," Harry and I murmured.

"Good morning Harry, Gia," he said. He peered at us before sighing. "I've come bearing the request from the Diggorys that you both meet with them as soon as possible."

I saw Harry pale beside me, and I sighed. "Are they here, now?" I asked. Dumbledore nodded.

"They stayed the night in one of our spare quarters." He said softly.

"We owe them that much," I said sadly, "at least an explanation… Can you give us an hour, Professor? I'd like to shower and change before meeting with the Diggorys."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, dear. When you are ready… report to the smaller conference room on the third floor. Do you know where it is?"

We nodded.

Dumbledore squeezed both of our shoulders encouragingly before walking towards the door. "Professor," I called. The old man stopped and turned to look at me. "Thank you…for believing us about—about everything." I said. He simply nodded and left.

Very reluctantly, I stood up and stretched before gently pulling Harry to his feet. I looked at Ron and Hermione, and decided to wake them. As Hermione's brown eyes opened slowly, she blinked at me. "We…the Diggorys want to meet with Harry and me, so we're going up to East Tower to shower and stuff. I figured you two would want to be in your own bed." I explained.

Hermione, noticing her predicament, blushed and nodded. "I'll get Ron up, and we'll be up in a few." She whispered.

The walk to East Tower was an alarmingly short one, and soon enough, we found ourselves standing in our bathroom. Undressing, Harry and I climbed into the steamy shower stall. Immediately, I rested my head on Harry's chest and we held each other as the hot water cascaded on us. We stayed like that for several minutes before washing and leaving. Inside our closet, I decided that it would be only right to wear the traditional black color used for mourning.

I pulled on a simple black dress and my black dragon-hide boots, before slipping a plain black robe over it, leaving it open in the front. Harry put on slacks, a dress shirt, and a robe, all black of course. I felt him staring at me as I fixed his tie, and when I was done, I pulled my hair back in a ponytail. After making sure we had our wands, Harry and I left our rooms to find Ron and Hermione cuddled together, asleep, on one of the common room couches. We left them alone this time as we left East Tower, and we walk hand-in-hand in silence to the third floor.

Outside the conference room door, I heard crying coming from the room and I sighed. "Let's get this over with, Harry. I don't think I can take anymore sadness."

I slowly opened the door, and we walked into the room that held only a large table, some chairs, and a long table along the right wall that held food and pastries. I curtsied respectfully and Harry bowed as we entered. Mr. Diggory was the one sobbing, I saw, and it seemed as though Mrs. Diggory's grief was beyond tears. "Oh Gia," she whispered, "it's been so long. Please, come in and sit."

The following meeting had to be, perhaps, the most depressing moment of my life since my parents' deaths. Mr. Diggory sobbed through most of the meeting, but something that relieved both Harry and I was the fact that neither parent blamed us for what happened to Cedric. On the contrary, both of them thanked us for returning Cedric's body to them. After having the two swear a magic oath, we told them most of the whole story.

"It's what he asked us to do, Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. We simply gave him his final wish." I said softly.

"He suffered very little then," she said, when Harry had told her how Cedric had died. "And after all, Amos... He died just when he'd won the tournament. He must have been happy."

When we got to our feet, she looked down at us and said, "You two look after yourselves, now. And stick together…"

Harry seized the sack of gold on the bedside table. "You take this," he muttered to her. "It should've been Cedric's, he got there first, you take it—"

But she backed away from him. "Oh no, it's yours, dear, I couldn't... You keep it." I knew why she wouldn't take the winnings. She didn't want a constant reminder of what this tournament had done to her son, had done to her family. Harry and I returned to the Hospital Wing afterwards, where Madam Pomfrey wanted us to stay one more night to observe us for lingering trauma. We tiredly agreed, and spent the rest of the day simply lying in each other's arms, staring off into space. Ron, Hermione, and even Luna visited frequently.

That night, Harry turned to me. "What did Mrs. Diggory mean when she said that it's been so long?" he asked. I sighed and tucked my head under his chin.

"Cedric and I use to play together when we were kids. That's why we seemed so close this year, why we called each other brother and sister. We practically grew up together. Cedric was the first person to make me smile after my parents died…"

We returned to East Tower the following evening, and Ron and Hermione told us that Dumbledore had spoken to the entire school at breakfast that morning. He had merely requested that they leave Harry and me alone, that nobody ask us questions or badger us to tell the story of what had happened in the maze. Most people, we noticed, were skirting us in the corridors, avoiding our eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as we passed. I guessed that many of them had believed Rita Skeeter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous Harry was. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how Cedric had died. Those days particularly annoyed me, and I'd had to furiously clamp down on my rising temper a few times when I caught people carelessly pondering if Harry hadn't killed Cedric himself in order to win.

The moments I liked best were when the trio and I simply relaxed and talked about other things, or just sitting in silence as the boys played chess and Hermione and I read books. I frequently took Harry out to the pitch so that we could fly around for a while, and on some days, we were silently joined by Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George. I had stopped pushing for training for a few days, but had eventually dragged them all up to the Room of Requirement, stating that wallowing around wouldn't accomplish anything. The motion proved helpful as we all furiously blasted apart waves and waves of practice dummies. It was almost therapeutic to blast them apart, because it seemed as though we all had a lot of steam to blow off. After that, we threw ourselves back into training, partly as a coping method, and partly because none of us wanted to be in a position like this again.

In those days, I exchanged many letters with various people and groups that I was well acquainted with, either through personal, business, or through my travels. I spoke to many higher-ups and Department Heads in the Ministry, they were all ready to see Fudge go. I scheduled a meeting over the summer with the goblins at Gringotts. And I especially made contact with as many werewolf clans as I was acquainted with. They respected my family for being what we were, and I even asked them to keep an open mind should a man named Remus Lupin approach them. I never once asked any of them to fight if the war should pick up. First, I wanted to feel them all out, and then I could settle for dissuading them from joining Voldemort.

"Mum wanted both of you to come to the Burrow for the summer." Ron said one day as we lounged in our common room. "She went to ask Dumbledore if the both of you could come straight there, but…but Dumbledore wants you back with the Dursleys."

I felt a brief spark of anger before crushing it. "He's not going back." I said finally.

As there was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, we had those lessons free. Most days, we spent those periods training more, but some days, we went down to see Hagrid. We used one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin. It was a bright and sunny day; Fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly. "Who's that?" called Hagrid, coming to the door.

He strode out to meet us, pulled Harry and me into a hug, ruffled Harry's hair, and said, "Good ter see yeh all. Good ter see yeh."

We saw two bucket-size cups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fireplace when we entered Hagrid's cabin. "Bin havin' a cuppa with Olympe," Hagrid said. "She's jus' left."

"Who?" said Ron curiously.

"Madame Maxime, o' course!" said Hagrid.

"You two made up, have you?" said Ron.

"Dunno what yeh're talkin' about," said Hagrid airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When he had made tea and offered around a plate of doughy cookies, he leaned back in his chair and surveyed Harry and me closely through his beetle-black eyes. "You two all righ'?" he said gruffly.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"No," I said honestly, "but we will be."

Hagrid nodded at me. "Tha's righ'. Knew he was goin' ter come back," said Hagrid, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up at him, shocked. I wondered if Hagrid was more perceptive than any of us knew.

"Known it fer years. Harry. Knew he was out there, bidin' his time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Migh' be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledores plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. 'S long as we've got him, I'm not too worried."

"No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," he said. "What's comin' will come, an we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me wha' you two did, Harry, Gia." Hagrid's chest swelled as he looked at Harry. "Yeh did as much as yer father would've done, an' I can' give yeh no higher praise than that."

Harry smiled back at him. It was the first time he'd smiled in days. "What's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?" he asked. "He sent Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madame Maxime to meet him—that night."

"Got a little job fer me over the summer," said Hagrid. "Secret, though. I'm not s'pposed ter talk abou' it, no, not even ter you lot. Olympe—Madame Maxime ter you—might be comin' with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded."

"Is it to do with Voldemort?"

Hagrid flinched at the sound of the name.

"It's the giants, isn't it?" I said calmly. They all stared at me, but Hagrid looked nervous. "Dumbledore's asked you to go talk to them, perhaps persuade them not to fight for Voldemort."

"Migh' be," he said evasively. "Now... Who'd like ter come an' visit the las' skrewt with me? I was jokin'—jokin'!" he added hastily, seeing the looks on our faces.