Following his confrontation with Dumbledore, Harry redoubled his focus on trying to get the hang of his fae abilities. Whenever he had a moment to spare, he was up in the Room of Requirement, though he rarely used his wand anymore.

Knowing that there was no plan to fall back on made his situation feel much more precarious. That feeling was only exacerbated by the reminder he had gotten from Dumbledore's explanation of the original plan: Harry Potter was not realistically a match for Tom Riddle.

Harry found himself frequently getting distracted during his meditation sessions. Sometimes it was the looming threat, sometimes it was his worry about his friends, sometimes it was something altogether different.

A week after the argument in the Headmaster's office, Harry was sitting in the Room of Requirement, meditating and trying to feel his way through to a possible new magic. He had just finished a Defence lesson with Hermione.

Somewhere in the darkness beyond his closed eyes, Harry heard that Hermione had started pacing. His imagination brought an image of her dancing through a meadow in time with the sound of her footsteps in the Room. Harry could recognise it as the clearing in the Forbidden Forest where the Guardian Oak stood. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight and there was a mischievous smile dancing on her lips as the flowers around her swayed in time to her movements. Harry couldn't resist daydreaming about taking Hermione in his arms and holding her tightly while that smile turned from mischievous to downright sultry.

"OOF!"

Oof? Harry opened his eyes to see Hermione sprawled on the floor, her robes flared up around her knees. "Hermione! What happened?" he demanded as he jumped to his feet to help her up.

"Tripped," Hermione gritted out tersely as she pushed herself back up to her feet.

Harry began looking around for anything that Hermione might have tripped over. His eye was caught by a small, thin line of green that disappeared under Hermione's robes. "What's that?"

Hermione carefully lifted the hem of her robe and the two friends saw that the small green line was some kind of plant that had wrapped itself around Hermione's ankle and calf. "Harry? Is this- did you do this?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I don't think I did. I wasn't trying to trip you."

Hermione nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. "Just in case, try replicating your thoughts."

Feeling a little embarrassed, Harry closed his eyes. It took a moment for his thoughts to calm down, but before long his mind's eye was once again showing him a scene of Hermione and himself in the Guardian Oak's grove. It was so real that he could smell the mossy earth and the blooming flowers. He imagined her arms slipping around his neck as his came around her waist. He even imagined her breath quickening as they leaned in for a kiss.

A slight gasp drew him from his daydream and left him goggling at what he saw. The small plant had grown to the point where it was wrapped around all of Hermione's body. Judging by the way she'd brought her hand up near her face to inspect the vine wrapped around, the plant wasn't hurting or restraining her.

"This is amazing," Hermione said when she noticed that her boyfriend was staring at her with his jaw swinging open. "Harry, I think the Oak King may have given you the power to control plants."

"A-are you sure," Harry asked, trying to force his thoughts to focus on what was happening. "This doesn't look like a weapon."

"Were you thinking about hurting me?" Hermione asked, her mouth quirking into a teasing grin.

"Of course not!"

"Well, that might be a reason why it didn't." Hermione lightly caressed the vines on one of her wrists. "Try thinking about restraining me."

"Excuse me?!"

"Try to keep me from moving," Hermione repeated. Her teasing grin turned into something that was more of a sultry smirk. "If you can properly tie me up, you can do anything you like to me. Anything at all."

Harry wondered when air had gotten so hard to breathe and why his clothes felt like they were restricting him more than the vines on Hermione. His girlfriend's eyes glittered with a cheeky challenge.

Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to steady his out of control heartbeat. Okay. Okay. I can do this. Just focus. If the vine wrapped around her when I thought about hugging her, maybe I should want to hug her tightly? He tried to imagine squeezing Hermione as tightly as he could.

A hand lightly grazed across his chest. "I don't think that's working," Hermione's voice whispered huskily. "Try something else."

"I'm not sure what I can do, Hermione. I don't want to do something that will really hurt you."

"Do you think you'll lose me if you make a mistake?"

"I think it's a possibility."

Everything was quiet for a moment. "Harry," Hermione broke the silence, sounding tense, "if you don't master this you will lose me." What? "He will win. He'll take my memories again." No... "I won't know who you are." No! Not again! "I won't know that we ever went on dates to Hogsmeade. I won't know that you were my teacher." NO! I won't-… I can't-... "He might even put something in my head to make me hate you. All because you didn't- hrrk!"

Harry jerked back, his eyes flying open as he stared at Hermione who had been lifted of the floor, the vines visibly digging into her skin, even around her throat. "HERMIONE!"

Before he could even finish screaming her name, the vines dropped limply to the ground, leaving Hermione to sprawl forward while gasping for air.

"Hermione! Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I-"

A trembling finger landed on his lips. "Shhh. Don't."

"But-" The finger pressed more insistently, causing Harry to fall silent.

"This is my own fault, Harry. I noticed the vines tightening when you thought about losing me and I goaded you on purpose."

Harry shook his head and gathered Hermione to his chest. "I should have been more in control."

"And if you had been, would we have figured out how you can use this magic?"

Harry drew back a little to scowl at her. "Some weapon if it only hurts the ones I care about."

"It will hurt your enemies if you turn it on them."

"Hermione… I don't think I'll ever want to not get rid of Riddle. That's more or less the exact opposite of what I felt just now."

"I think," Hermione began in a tone that Harry knew meant she was trying to express her thought process in the smallest steps she could, "that the reason those vines tightened on me was that you wanted me to not go anywhere. I also think that there are plenty of circumstances where you won't want Riddle or the Death Eaters to go anywhere either. Situations like that time you fought him in Hogsmeade. You sent me away and said that you would hold him back. You wanted very much for him not to leave and find someone else, someone who wouldn't be as prepared as you are to face him. That tells me that you would be able to hold him in place with this spell as long as you keep in mind that letting him move means that he is a threat to those you care about."

Harry resisted the urge that welled up inside of him to declare the idea nonsense and tried to really think about it. In the end he could only come to one conclusion. "I'm not sure yet how well this will work, but I'll be damned if I have a better plan. Any ideas for how to train this?"

"Well, we are in the Room of Requirement. I'm sure we can come up with something."

"You can tell me all about it on the couch."

"The couch?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow.

"You promised that if I could restrain you I could do anything I want to you. Right now I want to hold you and make sure you're alright before we go any further."

Hermione's face flushed red, though a pleased smile was turning her lips up. "Alright. On the couch."

They sat down and Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione. He felt her nestle into his side and sigh out contentedly. He was close to drifting off when he was startled upright by a high-pitched voice.

"Harry Potter, sir?"

Harry whipped around in surprise, causing Hermione to jerk back with a loud "Harry! What-" and found himself facing an unknown house elf. "Yes?"

"The Headmaster is wanting Harry Potter to go to his office as soon as possible."

That can't be good. "Alright. Would you let him know that I'm on my way?"

"Yes, Harry Potter." The elf popped out, leaving Harry alone with a worried looking Hermione.

"Harry? Do you know what the Headmaster wants?"

"No," Harry said distractedly, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "Whatever it is, I doubt it's good news. The staff don't usually use house elves as messengers. Last time he did, it was because something was crashing down around our ears."

Hermione nodded. "I'll head up to the common room. Come find me when you know more?"

"Of course," Harry agreed. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "See you in a bit."

"Yeah…" Hermione murmured out, pulling him in for a quick, tight hug, worry printed clearly on her face.

Harry gave her a final nod and ran out of the Room. He kept up his pace until he reached the gargoyle. "Chocolate flake!" The words hadn't fully left his mouth when the gargoyle leapt to the side. Definitely not good.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Harry found himself face to face with the door to the Headmaster's office. He was about to burst in when it registered that he could hear raised voices inside the office. The door muffled them enough that Harry couldn't make out exactly what was being said, but it was clear the Headmaster wasn't alone. Remembering what had happened when he burst in with the diadem, Harry decided to give himself and his teacher some room to work with and knocked.

"Ah, come in, Harry," Dumbledore's voice called out.

Harry opened the door and entered. He was thankful for his training in occlumency with the Headmaster since the increased emotional and mental control allowed him to catch himself before he could stand there gawking in surprise.

The office was filled with people, several of whom he didn't recognise. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk with Professor McGonagall standing next to him. In front of the desk, shivering and wrapped in blankets were Minister Fudge, Mister Weasley, a witch he thought might be Susan Bones' aunt and two more witches Harry suspected might have been at his hearing before his fifth year.

Mister Weasley gave Harry a very tired smile, while Madam Bones just studied him over the rim of a steaming mug. The other three glared at Harry as if his presence was a personal insult. "You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" Harry asked lightly, as if he couldn't see the visitors.

"Yes, Harry. I believe that your presence may prove useful for this discussion."

"Useful?!" Fudge exploded. "How is this brat supposed to be useful for anything?!"

Dumbledore just arched an unimpressed bushy eyebrow. "Ah, I apologise Cornelius. My hearing isn't what it used to be. I thought I'd heard you say that Lord Voldemort had just destroyed the Ministry and logically concluded that we may wish to hear any insights the person who has most often faced that particular adversary in recent years may wish to provide. If you said something else, please do correct me."

The visitors flinched back violently at hearing Riddle's nom de guerre but Fudge managed to rally himself. "Potter's a child! He can't have-"

"Cornelius, shut up," Madam Bones interrupted. "Right now we haven't got a leg to stand on. Since we came here to ask for help, we'll take what we're given."

"But-"

"But he can't be back?" Harry interrupted mockingly. "But I must be a liar? But Voldemort is only alive in my overactive imagination, so the Ministry is fine and you're just here for a cup of tea?"

Fudge flushed, but didn't respond beyond his expression pulling into a snarl.

"The Ministry clearly owes you an apology, Mister Potter," Madam Bones said tightly. "I hope that you will accept a deferment of that until after we have dealt with He Who Must Not Be Named?"

Harry glanced at Dumbledore, but the Headmaster was carefully studying his steepled fingers. Guess that's his way of telling me that I have to make up my own mind about this. Harry let out a tense breath and shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, ma'am, I don't give a damn about the apology. I'm pretty hacked off that two years that could have been spent working to end Riddle have been wasted, but we can use all the help we can get and wasting more time and energy at this point isn't going to get us any closer to being able to get on with our lives. I'm not going to put up with anyone wasting our time insulting my sanity anymore though."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said happily, his eccentric-old-man-act firmly back in place. "Now that we've all decided to work together, perhaps you could provide us with a thorough description of what happened at the Ministry? The more details we have, the better our chances of divining what Lord Voldemort intends."

Harry briefly wondered what Dumbledore was hoping to achieve by constantly referring to Riddle as Voldemort. Harry himself had done it to needle Fudge, but Dumbledore might have a different reason. Then again, he might be just as annoyed as I am after being called a madman for two years by these people.

He leaned back against one of the book cases and crossed his arms as he prepared to listen.

Madam Bones took the word after a prolonged look at Fudge that clearly invited him to start the story. "It was quick. Erik, our watchman, didn't even have time to sound the alarm. They swarmed the atrium with numbers and the only reason we were able to mount any kind of resistance was that Arthur's son had the presence of mind to take the stairs to the Auror Department. We lost a lot of people who crammed themselves into the lifts out of sheer habit." She paused for a moment to shoot Mr. Weasley a smile. "You did well with him, Arthur."

"We're very proud of all our children," Mr. Weasley said with a small smile. "Molly isn't likely to let him out of her sight for a while yet though."

Madam Bones inclined her head in a measured nod, before turning back to Dumbledore. "I joined my Aurors in the response. I- Albus, it is difficult to describe. The Death Eaters… well, it was a shock to see them there. They didn't even dare assault the Ministry when they were at the height of their power twenty years ago and even after the incident last summer..." She shook her head disconsolately. "It was shocking, but we could more or less meet them on even footing. He Who Must Not Be Named though, he was entirely beyond us."

She took a deep breath. "I don't know how he was doing it, but it looked like he was casting wandlessly." Bones' eyes turned slightly unfocused as she appeared to be peering into her memories. "I don't know if it's relevant, but he was casting nothing but ice spells. Hearing myself say that makes it sound rather limited, but the variety was astounding."

Harry caught Dumbledore's eyes flicking over to him and knew what the older wizard was thinking. That lines up with our suspicion that Riddle summoned the Holly King and asked for some kind of winter related power. It's not exact, but it's something.

"I can see that it means something to the two of you," Bones spoke up shrewdly, her narrowed eyes darting between Harry and Dumbledore.

Harry decided to let Dumbledore answer the question as he had more experience dealing with these people.

"Yes, Amelia, it does a rather neat job of supporting a hypothesis we've been working with for a while now."

"And?" Bones asked pointedly. "Are you going to share?"

"After you finish. I fear that sharing this information now would derail your story."

Bones eyed the two Hogwarts wizards suspiciously for a moment before continuing. "Right. Well, with He Must Not Be Named taking part in the battle himself, we couldn't hold out. Morale was plummeting while casualties were mounting. I ordered my people to evacuate who they could while a small group tried to hold the entrance to the stairwell. We managed to get several hundred out through the Floo department. Several hundred out of several thousand." Bones looked at them hopelessly. "The five of us are the only ones left that held a rank of Assistant Department Head or higher."

"But you survived and all is not yet lost," Dumbledore said gently, drawing her attention. "You have come to us with a warning. Several members of the Ministry have already come to Hogwarts with their families and will find shelter within her walls."

Bones nodded. "We destroyed the Floo Department's controls before getting out of there ourselves. I found the Minister and we came here…" She trailed off with a shrug that indicated that she had caught up to the present moment.

Harry tried to work through what she'd told them. He suspected that the members of the Ministry who had arrived would more than likely also be members of the Order. Reinforcements are going to help. Especially since we haven't been able to prepare the way we would have liked.

Aside from that and Bones' description of Riddle's powers confirming our hunch this is bad news all around.

"What are we going to do now, Albus?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair and looked up at the ceiling. "Your thoughts, Harry?"

Seeing that he had just become the centre of attention Harry realised that he was going to have to answer. "He's going to hit Hogwarts or Gringotts next. The Ministry was probably a trial run since it was a less significant threat and-"

"Now listen here, boy," one the witches Harry didn't recognise interrupted. "An all out assault on the heart of wizarding culture is not some kind of trial run. You Know Who was clearly trying to take over the government and would have succeeded if we hadn't escaped."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and then you came here to hide behind children because when you're being honest you know that you haven't the first clue of what's going on with Voldemort or how you're going to stop him."

"Harry, that is not the most helpful attitude to take, is it?" Dumbledore asked mildly, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

"I also said that I wasn't going to let them waste our time with this bollocks," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, you did," Bones admitted. "Madam Summerby, I'll repeat what I said to Cornelius: we haven't saved anything yet and the continued existence of your authority is likely entirely dependent on Potter and Dumbledore's assistance."

Summerby appeared to want to say more but quailed under the combined glares of Bones and McGonagall.

Bones turned her attention back to Harry. "You said you think this was a trial run. Trial run of what exactly?"

"His new abilities," Harry answered, slightly reluctantly. "Like the Headmaster said: we've thought for a while now that he gained some kind of new power around Christmas."

"Yes," Bones said in a musing tone that was belied by the sharp, attentive gleam in her eyes. "Albus?"

"It has been our working assumption for several months that Lord Voldemort has contacted the fae known as-"

"Fae?! This is not some children's story hour Dumbledore!" Fudge snapped.

"Headmaster, this isn't going to work," Harry said angrily. "They don't want our help so just let them go home and figure it out for themselves. It will at least stop them from getting in our way."

"Hmph," the second witch Harry hadn't recognised huffed. "Of course a delusional child-"

"My last 'delusion' killed most of your government. If I was as slow on the uptake as you're determined to be, I'd still be in my second year," he snarled, cutting the woman off.

"Cornelius, perhaps it would be better if you took Madam Summerby and Madam Davies and enjoyed a nice, calming cup of tea," Dumbledore said with a frown, his tone disapproving.

"Now see here, Dumbledore, I'm the Minister. If there are decisions to be made about the future of Magical Britain, I shall be the one to make them."

"That's us done for," Harry muttered.

"Why you-" Fudge didn't get to finish, slumping in his chair as a Stunner from Madam Bones knocked him unconscious. The two witches with him drew their wands, but didn't get to fire off any spells as they were similarly Stunned by Professor McGonagall and Madam Bones.

"How he ever managed to advance through Magical Accidents and Catastrophes without learning how to deal with a crisis still escapes me," Bones sighed out. "I'll deal with them later. Right now I want all the information I can get on what we need to expect from He Who Must Not Be Named. Albus, you were saying?"

Dumbledore spared a glance for his Deputy who was glaring a hole in their guests, before he spoke up again. "Ahem. Yes, we believe that the Dark Lord has contacted a fae known as the Holly King, a being whose supremacy in the Otherworld causes winter in ours."

"And how did you come to this conclusion?"

Harry and Dumbledore shared another look. "Because his counterpart, the Oak King, told us as much, though not in so many words," Harry admitted.

Bones' piercing gaze settled on him. "You've summoned a fae?"

"That time he summoned me," Harry said, forcing a casual shrug.

"Summoned you how?"

"Several of the centaurs who live in our Forest came to parley and carried the message," Dumbledore answered smoothly.

Bones nodded. "It does sound rather incredible," she said in an apologetic tone.

Dumbledore inclined his head. "There is much in this world that must be experienced for it to seem credible," he said. "However, I trust that it has not escaped your notice that there has been an unabated layer of snow and frost over the land despite the calender having carried us well into April.

Bones blinked slowly, as if she was filing that little tidbit away carefully. "I could argue right back that the most reasonable deduction from unseasonable weather might not necessarily include the fae."

"True," Dumbledore allowed with a twinkle in his eyes that showed he was enjoying the exchange. "It might be considered circumstantial evidence at best, but it is evidence nonetheless. Now, I believe Harry has not yet finished his analysis. You have mentioned that Tom was testing his fae powers before moving on Gringotts or Hogwarts. What else?"

Harry took a moment to order his thoughts. "We're not ready to face him. The Headmaster and I have been doing what we can to weaken him, but we weren't expecting to face him battle; not yet. If he's choosing the battle, he probably thinks he has the advantage. At this point he may be right."

"What would you do?" Bones asked seriously.

"Warn Gringotts. It may not save them entirely, but it would be the decent thing to do. And if he does go there and they manage to give him a fight that will buy us some time. In the meantime we should assume that Riddle will show up here first and plan accordingly." He looked over to Dumbledore. "How'd I do?"

"A very good analysis, Harry. Full marks," Dumbledore answered with a smile. "You left out that Tom's assault on the Ministry may also have been intended as a rallying cry to such elements of our society as do not commonly communicate openly, but that is not an easily quantifiable threat. Also, this battle may yet provide us with an opportunity to end him, but given the tenor of the conversation so far, I believe you may have left that observation out on purpose."

"There's something about the two of you treating the potential end of everything we hold dear like a classroom exercise that worries me," Bones said, shaking her head in dismay.

"Hmph. These two together are more trouble than you know," McGonagall muttered sourly.

"Minerva?" Bones asked, a tendril of worry underlying her voice.

"We're not that bad, Professor," Harry protested at the same time.

McGonagall just glared at him. "Acromantula conversation."

"Please let it go already," Harry groaned, rubbing at his eyes with one hand.

"Minerva?!" Bones asked a little more shrilly.

"Come, Amelia. I think you may want to hear this with a nice warm drink on hand."

Harry decided that pointing out that Bones' mug was somehow still steaming would only lead to more problems. As the two witches headed for the exit, he cast a slightly despairing look at his Headmaster.

"Ah, Amelia? Minerva?"

"Yes, Albus?"

"Would you be so good as to keep your word and take the others with you?" Dumbledore asked, indicating the unconscious bodies. "You did say you would deal with them."

Bones flicked her wand and all three rose into the air like a set of eerie marionettes.

"I repeat myself, gentlemen. One of you gets hurt, the other will answer to me for it." With that McGonagall led a worried looking Madam Bones from the office.

Harry had almost forgotten Mr. Weasley's presence when the older man sighed. "Albus, I don't know what you did to anger her this much, but I have to admit I'm a little worried. For Harry, if not for yourself."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Harry asked Dumbledore.

The Headmaster took off his glasses and busied himself polishing them on his robe. "Ah. I'm afraid that question may not have any answers you wish to hear, my boy."

"Harry, if my boys had done half of what you have, we'd be just as worried about them, if not more so," Mr. Weasley said, sounding both unsure and concerned.

"Ron has done at least half of what I have," Harry replied.

"I know," Mr. Weasley said a little shakily. "You have no idea how much it terrifies us. Molly always had a protective streak, but she certainly gave our older boys more room."

"What do you mean?"

"It hasn't struck you as odd that Molly would be so strident that you lot should know absolutely nothing about this war?"

"I- I hadn't really thought about it."

"I realise that you may be busy for the foreseeable future, but if you happen to find yourself with a moment: spare a thought for why it is that Molly is not nearly as worried about Bill raiding tombs or Charlie playing with dragons as she has been about Ron, Ginny and yourself learning something that could drive you to act on your own." Mr. Weasley seemed to consider saying more, but ended up shaking his head. "I'll leave the two of you to your plotting, but please remember your own safety in whatever plan you come up with."

The red-haired wizard got up and walked out of the office, rubbing his forehead. Harry waited for the door to close behind Mr. Weasley before speaking up again. "So? Should we plan for what's about to land on our heads?"

"We should. I am curious how you would approach the matter."

Harry took a moment to think it over. "When you mentioned that Ministry workers were already sheltering here with their families, I assumed that you were talking about Order members. Was I right?"

"Certainly some of them are. Others have simply heard the oft-repeated assertion that the two safest places in wizarding Britain are Hogwarts and Gringotts and expected a warmer welcome here than at the bank."

"They're probably not wrong," Harry said. "Last few times I was there, I didn't get the idea I'd be offered a cup of tea anytime soon. Will the ones that aren't members of the Order help us if push comes to shove?"

"I imagine that they do not yet know the answer to that themselves, Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "Many of them will not have faced such a stark choice during the last war. I can only say that it is a hopeful sign that they have not yet simply surrendered to their fate."

"Let's at least find out who really doesn't want to be part of a battle. And maybe also who can't for whatever reason."

"You are referring to the younger students?"

"Yes," Harry admitted reluctantly, hoping the Headmaster wouldn't bring up the conversation they'd had right after the Oak King had removed the horcrux in Harry's scar. "It'd be better to have them somewhere safe than running around a battle they can't meaningfully affect."

The older wizard let the chance for an 'I told you so' pass by unremarked. Instead he said: "A sensible precaution. What else?"

Harry stopped to give it some thought. "This is a magical castle. Can it be used as a fortification against magic?"

"I see that Ms. Granger has yet to press you into reading Hogwarts: A History," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Yes, the castle does have some defences we may call upon."

"Then- um…"

"I think you have reached the obvious conundrum, haven't you, Harry?"

"You mean: 'how I'm going to actually manage to kill Riddle and his bloody snake'? Yeah. Don't suppose you've had some kind of inspiration?"

Dumbledore shook his head mournfully. "The best we could hope for is that you and I should be able to face Tom together. Fate may have decreed that this is not my Dark Lord to defeat, but I can at least help create an opening for you."

"That'd be nice," Harry said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Indeed. Unfortunately, I do not hold Tom's obsession as you do and it is likely that he will set all his followers to attack me the moment I take the field."

"While he'll want to finish me himself," Harry concluded. "Didn't think I'd be saying this at the time, but I'm almost sorry I asked the Oak King to remove that horcrux."

"I am not," Dumbledore said sternly. "Certainly, I had a plan to make the most of a terrible situation, but the first goal had to be the destruction of that horcrux, preferably with you surviving unharmed. You came up with your own solution and it has worked admirably. Remember, I was working with hypotheses, not certainties in formulating that plan."

"But you don't have another that will get me in with a chance to end this, do you?"

"I do not," Dumbledore admitted. "I do, however, have tremendous faith in your talents and instincts. How are you coming on with your attempts to master what the Oak King imparted to you?"

"It seems to be some kind of control over plants," Harry said. "I've got a ways to go before I can say that I've mastered it."

"Well done, Harry! Control over plants, you say?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I made a plant grow out of the floor and wrap around Hermione." He felt his face heat up. "There seems to be a connection to my emotions or wants. We only got this far an hour or so ago."

"That is marvellous progress, my boy," Dumbledore beamed. He looked as excited as Harry had ever seen him. "You are pioneering a wholly new magic."

"Yeah. Think we can get Riddle to keep away until I have a better hold on it?"

"I do not. On the other hand, I doubt that his next strike will follow in the next few days, unless he has managed a greater muster of his forces than we could reasonably be expected to have missed. It will take him time to gather the strength to face Gringotts or this castle, so what I can do is excuse you from your classes for the next few weeks to give you as much of a chance to master this as possible."

Harry nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility increase. "I'd better get back to it then, sir."

"I think, Harry, that when we are alone, you should call me Albus. My friends do."

"I- yes, sir. Albus."

"Good. Best of luck, Harry."

Feeling wholly confused, Harry made his way out of the Headmaster's office. He turned to march up the stairs. Hermione said she'd be in the common room. I'll swing by there to pick her up and then we can get back to practicing.

:-:-:-:-:

Harry had quietly let Ron and Hermione know about Dumbledore letting him out of class so he could focus on preparing for the inevitable battle. He wasn't sure what he had expected their reactions to be, but both of them shouting lectures at him about his lack of panic, trying to drown the other out, somehow hadn't entered into his predictions.

When they had finally calmed down, Harry had tried to make his friends see that this wasn't a case of him being thrown out to the wolves by the wizarding world at large, but one very specific criminal coming after him no matter what and that he was better off being as prepared as possible.

When Harry said that, Ron had fake-coughed something about murder into his hand. Harry hadn't heard what Ron had said exactly, but it had led to Hermione pummelling their friend with a pillow while repeating "Not. Funny. You. Prick," with every blow. Neither one would tell Harry exactly what was going on and, not having time to spare looking into the matter too much, Harry decided to let it go.

Harry had started out in the greenhouses, trying to see if he could replicate the experience he had gone through with the Devil's Snare. He found that he could understand most plants that Professor Sprout kept. The whole thing reminded him eerily of his Parseltongue abilities and he kept quiet that there were now more species that he could communicate with. At the very least the Devil's Snare he had worked with had been happy that he'd come back. Perhaps the plants in that greenhouse had a way of talking to each other, because most of the other plants also seemed eager to welcome him to their domain.

After his reconnaissance in the greenhouses, Harry ventured into the Forbidden Forest and tried to get plants to grow at will. He was helped tremendously by having refreshed his memory of which plants had which properties.

By the end of the month, two weeks of solid practice later, Harry had managed to learn how to get tree roots to move, gotten vines to wrap up targets and bamboo shoots to grow at such an accelerated rate that they shot out of the ground like spears. He had also discovered that it was easier to work with existing plants than trying to manifest them out of nothing. That realisation had led to him trying to scatter seeds on the ground only to discover that the ease of that strategy fell somewhere between native plants and magically generated plants, especially with the ground still hard from the persistent cold.

Hermione and Ron did their best to help when they could, but both had to focus on their studies as well. Hermione had even offered that they could stop their Defence classes, but Harry wouldn't hear of it. He argued that he needed to spend at least some time doing something that wasn't talking to the Forest.

Those moments with his friends were just blips on the way to getting familiar with his new powers and trying to keep his nerves from screaming through every unattended moment. The solitude of his time in the Forbidden Forest became both a blessing and a curse in that regard.

It was during one of his training sessions that Harry was forced to confront the fact that he was running entirely out of time. He was working on weaving roots of nearby trees together to form walls and even whole igloos, a shape mostly inspired by the still horrifically cold weather and an unheroic desire to get out of it.

He was about to attempt the construction of his fourth such shelter when a flash fire right in front of his face had Harry leaping back in shock. "Fawkes," he gasped out when he recognised the bird that had taken shape in the middle of the conflagration, "don't do that to me."

The phoenix let out a trill and dropped something on Harry's head before disappearing in another blaze. Harry blinked the spots out of his eyes, feeling more than a little confused about the whole thing. Crouching down he picked up the packet the Headmaster's familiar had left behind. It was an envelope with the seal already broken. Inside Harry found a short note.

Professor Dumbledore,

Gringotts is officially under new management. Consider it hostile to our side. Death Eaters have been entering freely and I have been fired. Contacts have gone to ground. Will attempt some more contacts before returning to Hogwarts.

Bill

Behind the letter was a photo. Harry studied it for a few moments trying to work out what he was looking at: Gringotts front steps lined with pikes holding up severed Goblin heads. He stuffed the message and the photo back into the envelope and tried to figure out why Fawkes had decided to bring them to him.

Is that really the most important thing? I need to go find Dumbledore. If Riddle's got Gringotts, he'll be coming here soon. Turning back to the castle, Harry set off at a run. He barked out the password as soon as he caught sight of the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office, leaping past it onto the stairs before it had even settled itself next to the opening.

Harry raced into the Headmaster's office and found that he had once again burst in on the senior staff.

"Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, one eyebrow starting to climb like a threatening thundercloud.

"I have asked Harry to join us, Minerva," Dumbledore interrupted smoothly. "He will be a central figure in what is to come and should at least have a voice in this discussion."

Harry, meanwhile, had realised that the occupants of the room didn't quite match up with his initial assumption. Madam Bones was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk, studying him silently, and "where's Snape?"

The fact that none of the teachers would quite meet his eyes and that there was no reprimand to address the man by his title gave Harry the answer before Dumbledore finally spoke. "It would seem, Harry, that Severus Snape left this castle last night. Judging from the personal items he took with him, we are currently working on the assumption that he will not return."

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself not to point out the many, many, times he'd warned the older wizard that Severus Snape ought not to be trusted. "Is that a significant problem for us or simply one more Death Eater on the other side?"

"Severus knows much about this castle and its inhabitants," Dumbledore admitted. "It is possible that he could help Tom find a way inside that we had not thought to cover. He does not know about our project."

Harry nodded in understanding. "They already had Pettigrew so we knew that was a risk either way. I can set something up that will at least ensure that they're not going to get in here unnoticed," he offered. "Riddle's likely to be the real problem though."

"Wait. Pettigrew?" Bones demanded sharply.

"Perhaps this is not the best time, Amelia," Dumbledore said. "Suffice it to say that Peter still lives, is a rat animagus and likely knows more about this castle than most of the staff."

"What-"

"I'll tell you the whole story later, ma'am," Harry offered impatiently. "I can have Ron and his brothers keep an eye on the secret passages in and out of the school if we can find a way for him to call for backup. Pettigrew knew a lot, but so did Fred and George."

"And yourself, I suppose?" Professor Flitwick asked with a chortle.

"Couldn't comment on that with so many professors and an auror present, sir," Harry grinned back to a groan from his Head of House.

"Ahem, if you are quite done?" McGonagall asked, eyebrow still arched. "Shall we finally be told what this project the two of you have been working on entails?"

"Regrettably not, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "I must ask that you trust that Harry and myself will deal with such matters as are left to us in that regard."

"You expect us to formulate a strategy to face one of the most formidable wizards who ever lived without all the information?" Bones asked sceptically. "You already revealed part of this project to us: the involvement of fae. Can't you fill in the rest as well."

Dumbledore was already shaking his head. "You are not wholly correct, Amelia. The involvement of the fae has not been part of our project, but a parallel issue that we have to deal with."

"Fine. Let's deal with that first then. How are we going to deal with You Know Who's new powers?"

"Harry?"

Harry could read the look on Dumbledore's face to mean that it would be up to him to decide how much to reveal. "There's a long complicated story behind all of this that we don't need to get into, but the fae that Riddle petitioned has an enemy among its own kind. One who has given us a chance to fight back against those new powers. It's not perfect yet and that is one of the reasons we mentioned that we weren't ready to challenge him, but it's something."

"Will this something be enough?" Bones wanted to know.

"It'll have to be."

"Very well. That's the fae powers accounted for," Bones agreed dubiously. "What's next?"

From there the group fell into a discussion of what allies Voldemort might be able to leverage against them and what options Hogwarts had that might serve as counters. Throughout the discussion, Madam Bones frequently tried to catch Harry or Dumbledore of guard with a question that was clearly fired off in the hope that they might reveal more than they had said.

If I hadn't spent so much time this year learning how to control my thoughts, I might have tripped up already, Harry thought to himself after the sixth such question from the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Still, better her than Fudge, even if she is suspicious of us.

By the end of the discussion a rough plan had been agreed to and the group disbanded to inform their respective contacts of what was needed. Harry set off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, hoping that the Weasleys would be somewhere nearby. He got lucky when he saw a particularly familiar head of red hair moving through a crowd of students ahead of him.

"Ron!" Harry called dodging several younger students to catch up to his mate who had just turned around to wait for him. "C'mon. I've got something I need to ask you."

Ron fell into step beside him and shot him a look. "Does this something have to do with the fact that we're about to have a battle?"

"You already know about that?"

Ron snorted derisively. "Bill just arrived and told us about what happened at Gringotts. Every member of the Order that's come to the school is running around in a right tizzy since about two hours earlier. Who wouldn't know?"

"Point," Harry admitted. "We'll talk about it in the dorm."

Ron shrugged, but didn't argue. They made their way up to Gryffindor tower, barely stopping to wave at friends they passed. When they were finally ensconced in their dorm, Ron turned and gave Harry an expectant look. "Well?"

"Okay, so yes, it is about the battle."

"I knew it! You need me to fire off some kind of super spell?"

"Do you know a super spell?" Harry asked curiously.

Ron blinked. "I was hoping you'd teach me something actually."

Harry shook his head in amusement. "Sorry, mate. I think if there was a super spell that could knock out Riddle, Dumbledore would have taken care of it years ago."

"Suppose you're right," Ron admitted.

"As it happens I have a mission I want to ask you to lead here in the castle."

"What?! Harry, I'm not some little kid that needs to stay behind! I'm bloody well of age."

Harry held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Whoa, let me finish. I just got out of a meeting with Dumbledore and a few others. Snape's done a runner. They're worried that he might sneak into the castle with a few pricks to take hostages."

Ron was staring at Harry with hope in his eyes. "You want me to off Snape."

"I want you take the Marauders' Map and guard against anyone who tries to sneak in."

"Yeah, but you think it'll be Snape."

"Him or Pettigrew. Or both."

"I'll take either," Ron said eagerly.

"Just make sure they don't get to the younger students. Some of the teachers will be here as well to serve as extra protection. They'll have been told that you'll be keeping an eye on things. They think it's because of Fred and George telling you about the secret passages though."

"True in a way," Ron grinned. "I get to command the teachers?"

"Pretty sure you'll still get detention if you try to make them get you pumpkin juice," Harry warned with a matching grin.

Ron waved a dismissive hand. "It'll be fine. You've got yourself a commander."

Harry rolled his eyes and punched his mate in the shoulder.

"Fine, I'll tone it down," Ron answered, grin never wavering. "You have to run off again?"

"Yeah. There's a lot still to do."

"Fine. You're playing a game of chess with me first thing after the battle though."

Harry felt touched. "Don't worry, Ron. I remember: me alive, him dead."

"Exactly!"

"I'm working on it," Harry said, giving his mate a wave as he left the dorm and getting a salute in return.

For the next two hours, Harry had his hands full directing families to the Great Hall where it had been decided it would be easiest to set up a third layer of protections after the outer wall and the doors of the keep.

When he had finally finished dealing with all the tasks that had been assigned to him he turned his steps toward the main courtyard to meet up with Dumbledore and get ready for the battle itself. Looks like things will finally end.

AN:

Harry's control over plants is largely inspired by the myth of Hades and Persephone, especially by the way Persephone's mother Ceres stops things from growing when Persephone is in the underworld and makes them sprout again once she returns. The other option would have been fire powers related to the sun, but I haven't found a lot of sources claiming that the ancients understood the influence of our favourite star in quite that detail.

Voldemort's assault being a method to gather allies is based on the real-world phenomenon of terrorist attacks resulting in larger recruitment for the responsible organization as the media coverage spreads their name and goals more effectively than they could themselves.

The Ministry can also no longer deny that Voldemort is back, mostly because it doesn't exist at the time. There is quite a lot of evidence that evidence is not actually effective in convincing people to change their opinion (as demonstrated ad nauseum in internet comment sections). Fudge, Summerby and Davies aren't interested in Harry having been right. That was an aberration. On the whole he is a delusional little child and one coincidence turning out as he predicted is not reason enough to think it will happen again.