Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas or J.K. Rowling.
Harry sits alone in his cell at Aberforth's headquarters on the Isle of Drear, recovering from the effects of a stun weapon, as well as the drugs of which he has been injected with.
Enter Ginny.
Ginny. Finally awake, are you?
Harry tries to use the Magic, only to discover that he is unable to sense anything about Ginny. In fact, he is unable to sense anyone anywhere. He has been completely cut off from the Magic.
That's right. Welcome back to the world of mere mortals. Don't like it, do you? It's not easy to suddenly lose everything that once made you special, is it?
Harry rises.
If the purpose of all this activity is to impress me with your remarkable powers of recuperation, you don't need to bother.
Harry. Nothing so devious. The purpose of all this activity is to get me back on my feet. [studies Ginny] Don't tell me. Let me guess. You're Ginny Weasley.
Ginny. That doesn't impress me, either. Aberforth already told me he'd mentioned my name to you.
Harry. [nods] He also told me that you were the one who found my Firebolt. Thank you.
Ginny. [glares at him] Save your gratitude. As far as I'm concerned, the only question left is whether we turn you over to the Ministry or kill you ourselves.
Ginny rises, her rifle ready.
On your feet. Aberforth wants to see you.
As Harry stands, he notices that his lightwand is clipped to Ginny's belt.
Harry. I can't say that either of those options sounds appealing.
Ginny. There's one other one. You try to escape . . . and I kill you right here and now. Move. Aberforth's waiting.
Ginny leads Harry out of his cell and toward Aberforth's quarters.
He's in the great room. Straight ahead.
Ginny ushers Harry inside Aberforth's quarters.
Enter Aberforth, flanked by MacBoon and Quintius.
Aberforth. Ah, Potter. Come and join me.
Harry approaches Aberforth.
Welcome back to the land of the living. I must apologize for having kept you asleep all this time. But I'm sure you appreciate the special problems involved in making sure an Auror stays where you've put him.
Harry. Of course. Though if you'd just asked nicely, you might have found me quite willing to cooperate.
Aberforth. [smiles] Perhaps. Perhaps not. Please sit down.
As Harry steps forward, MacBoon growls.
Easy, MacBoon. This man is our guest.
MacBoon ignores Aberforth, his attention on Harry.
Harry. I don't think it believes you.
Quintius growls.
Aberforth. Perhaps not.
Aberforth glances around the room.
Borgin. Come and take them out, will you?
Enter Borgin.
Borgin. Sure. [to the Quintapeds] Come on, fellows. How about we go for a walk, huh?
Exit Borgin and the Quintapeds.
Aberforth. My apologies, Potter. They're usually better behaved than that with guests. Now . . . please sit down.
Harry sits and accepts a cup of butterbeer from Aberforth.
It's just a mild stimulant, something to help you wake up.
Harry drinks.
Harry. Would you mind telling me where my droid is?
Aberforth. Oh, she's perfectly all right. I have her in one of my equipment sheds for safekeeping.
Harry. I'd like to see her, if I may.
Aberforth. I'm sure that can be arranged. But later. Perhaps after we've figured out just exactly what we're going to do with you.
Harry glances at Ginny.
Harry. Your associate mentioned the possibilities. I'd hoped I could add another to the list.
Aberforth. That we send you back home?
Harry. With due compensation, of course. Say, double whatever the Ministry would offer?
Aberforth. You're very generous with other people's money. The problem, unfortunately, doesn't arise from gold, but from politics. Our operations, you see, extend rather deeply into both Ministry and Council space. If the Ministry discovered we'd released you back to the Council, they would be highly displeased with us.
Harry. And vice versa if you turned me over to the Ministry.
Aberforth. True. Except that given the damage to your Firebolt's radio, the Council presumably has no idea what happened to you. The Ministry, unfortunately, does.
Ginny. And it's not what they would offer. It's what they have offered. Thirty thousand.
Harry. I had no idea I was so valuable.
Aberforth. You could be the difference between solvency and failure for any number of marginal operators. There are probably dozens of brooms out there right now, ignoring schedules and prior commitments to hunt for you. [smiles] Operators who haven't given even a moment of consideration to how they would hold onto an Auror even if they caught one.
Harry. Your method seems to work pretty well. I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me how you've managed it.
Aberforth. [smiles] Secrets of that magnitude are worth a great deal of gold. Have you any secrets of equal value to trade?
Harry. Probably not. But again, I'm sure the Wizards' Council would be willing to pay market value.
Aberforth drinks.
Aberforth. I'll make you a deal. You tell me why the Ministry is suddenly so interested in you, and I'll tell you why your Auror powers aren't working.
Harry. Why don't you ask the Ministry directly?
Aberforth. [smiles] Thank you, but no. I'd just as soon not have them start wondering at my sudden interest . . . particularly after we pleaded prior commitments when the request came in for us to help hunt you down.
Harry. [frowns] You weren't hunting for me?
Aberforth. No, we weren't. One of those little ironies that make life so interesting. We were simply returning from a cargo pickup when Ginny dropped us out of Apparition on the spur of the moment to do a nav reading.
Harry studies Ginny's face.
Harry. How fortunate for you.
Aberforth. Perhaps. The net result, though, was to put us in the middle of the exact situation that I'd hoped to avoid.
Harry. Then let me go and pretend none of this happened. I give you my word I'll keep your part in it quiet.
Aberforth. The Ministry would find out anyway. Their new commander is extremely good at piecing bits of information together. No, I think your best hope right now is for us to find a compromise. Some way we can let you go while still giving the Ministry what they want . . . which leads us back to my original question.
Harry. And from there back to my original answer. I really don't know what the Ministry wants with me. [hesitates] I can tell you, though, that it's not just me. There have been two attempts on my sister Hermione, too.
Aberforth. Killing attempts?
Harry. I don't think so. The one I was present for felt more like a kidnapping.
Aberforth. Interesting. Hermione Granger Weasley, who is in training to be an Auror like her brother. That could explain . . . certain recent Ministry actions.
Silence.
Harry. You spoke of a compromise.
Aberforth. Yes, I did. It's occurred to me that your privileged position in the Wizards' Council might be what the Ministry was interested in, that they wanted information on the inner workings of the Wizengamot. In such a case, we might have been able to work out a deal whereby you went free while your snowy droid went to the Ministry for debriefing.
Harry. It wouldn't do them any good. Hedwig has never been to any of the Wizengamot meetings.
Aberforth. But she does have a great deal of knowledge of you personally. As well as of your sister, her husband, and various other highly placed members of the Wizards' Council. It's a moot question now, of course. The fact that the focus is exclusively on the Wizards' Council's Aurors and potential Aurors means they're not simply after information. Where did these two attacks take place?
Harry. The first was in Nottingham, the second in Avalon.
Aberforth. [nods] We've got a contact in Avalon. Perhaps we can get him to do some backtracking on the Ministry. Until then, I'm afraid you'll have to remain here as our guest.
Harry. Let me just point out one other thing before I go. No matter what happens to me - or what happens to Hermione, for that matter - the Ministry is still doomed. There are more regions in the Wizards' Council now than there are under Ministry rule, and that number increases daily. We'll win eventually, if only by sheer weight of numbers.
Aberforth. I understand that was the Dark Lord's own argument when discussing your Army. Still, that is the crux of the dilemma, isn't it? While the Ministry will wreak swift retribution on me if I don't give you over to them, the Wizards' Council looks more likely to win out in the long run.
Ginny. [contemptuous] Only if he and his sister are there to hold Millicent Bagnold's hand. If they aren't . . .
Aberforth. If they aren't, the final time frame is somewhat less clear. At any rate, I thank you for your time, Potter. I hope we can come to a decision without too much of a delay.
Harry. Don't hurry on my account. This seems a pleasant enough region to spend a few days in.
Aberforth. Don't believe it for a moment. My two pet Quintapeds have a large number of relatives out in the forest. Relatives who haven't had the benefits of modern domestication.
Harry. I understand.
Aberforth. And don't count on your Auror skills to protect you, either. You'll be just as helpless in the forest, probably more so. There are, after all, considerably more hinkypunks out there than there are here.
Harry glances at the tree behind Aberforth, in which a hinkypunk is perched atop.
Harry. Hinkypunks? What is it?
Aberforth. The reason you're staying where we put you. They seem to have the unusual ability to push back the Magic, to create bubbles, so to speak, where the Magic simply doesn't exist.
Harry. I've never heard of them.
Aberforth. Not very many have. And in the past, most of those who did had a vested interest in keeping it that way. The Aurors of the Old Ministry avoided the region, for obvious reasons, which was why a fair number of smuggling groups back then had their bases here. After the Dark Lord destroyed the Aurors, most of the groups pulled up roots and left, preferring to be closer to their potential markets. Now that the Aurors are rising again . . . perhaps some of them will return. Though I dare say the general populace would probably not appreciate that.
Harry studies the tree, noticing more hinkypunks with the first.
Harry. What makes you think it's the hinkypunks and not something else that's responsible for this bubbling in the Magic?
Aberforth. Partly local legend. Mainly, the fact that you're standing here talking with me. How else could a man with a stun weapon and an extremely nervous mind have walked right up behind an Auror without being noticed?
Harry. You had hinkypunks aboard the Hog's Head.
Aberforth. Correct. Purely by chance, actually. Well . . . perhaps not entirely by chance.
Aberforth glances at Ginny.
Harry. How far does this bubbling extend?
Aberforth. Actually, I'm not sure anyone knows. Legend says that individual hinkypunk have bubbles from one to ten meters in radius, but that groups of them together have considerably larger ones. Some sort of reinforcement, I gather. Perhaps you'll do us the courtesy of participating in a few experiments regarding them before you leave.
Harry. Perhaps. Though that probably depends on which direction I'm headed at the time.
Aberforth. It probably will. Well, I imagine you'd like to get cleaned up. You've been living in that flight suit for several days now. Did you bring any changes of clothing with you?
Harry. There's a small case in the cargo compartment of my Firebolt. Thank you for bringing it along, incidentally.
Aberforth. I try never to waste anything that may someday prove useful. I'll have your things sent over as soon as my associates have determined that there are no hidden weapons or other equipment among them. [smiles] I doubt that an Auror would bother with such things, but I believe in being thorough. Good evening, Potter.
Ginny retrieves her rifle.
Ginny. Let's go.
Harry. [rises] Let me offer you one other option. If you decide you'd rather pretend none of this ever happened, you could just return Hedwig and me to where you found us. I'd be willing to take my chances with the other searchers.
Aberforth. Including the Ministry?
Harry. Including the Ministry.
Aberforth. [smiles] You might be surprised. But I'll keep the option in mind.
Harry and Ginny depart from Aberforth's quarters.
Exit Aberforth.
Ginny leads Harry back toward his cell.
Harry. Did I miss dinner?
Ginny. [snarls] Something can be brought to you.
Harry. Thank you. I don't know why you dislike me so much . . .
Ginny. Shut up. Just shut up.
Ginny shoves Harry into his cell.
We don't have any lock for the window. But there's an alarm on it. You try going out, and it'll be a toss-up as to whether the Quintapeds get to you before I do. [smiles] But don't take my word for it. Try it and find out.
Harry. I'll pass, thanks.
Ginny departs from the cell, sealing Harry inside.
Exit all.
