Sorry for the long delay, everyone. This was a long chapter and since we're into the DH story line I've found it a little difficult to retell the events while still changing up enough to make it new. There are a couple small changes, mostly toward the end. As always, thanks to everyone for the reviews and follows.
It's my intention to post a chapter a week from here on out. I do hope you'll stay along for the ride as I do have a few upcoming chapters I'm excited for you to read that I think really augment the DH events. Not a lot of Harry and Hermione interaction in this chapter but I'll remind you that this is a slow development. Don't worry - they do have a good moment in this chapter.
Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other property as owned by JK Rowling, whom I and countless adults and children owe the love of reading and writing. This story is for my own enjoyment.
Chapter Six: Goodbye Dursleys
"BOY!"
Harry gave a deep sigh as his uncle's voice carried up the stairs. Uncle Vernon had been more on edge than Harry had ever remembered. His relatives had been furious when they discovered that he had arrived at their doorstep early and were if anything, more livid about the fact that he had as Vernon put it, violated the sovereignty of their house by letting himself in without their permission. The meeting between the Dursleys, Kingsley, and Mr. Weasley had also been quite the chore. Hours passed as they tried over and over to convince the Dursleys their lives were in danger. As they wouldn't hear a word from Harry, it was left to Kingsley and Mr. Weasley to persuade them. Since then, Harry had spent the last four days rehashing the same arguments every time Vernon had changed his mind. Tonight was the night they were due to depart, and Harry was willing to bet as he came into the kitchen that Vernon had changed his mind yet again.
"Sit down, I want a word," said Vernon, his face growing steadily more purple with each word. Harry on the other hand, did not sit. In past summers, Harry would have obeyed his uncle or aunt's commands, but he had changed considerably over the past several days, in large part due to Dumbledore's passing and the weight of his task bearing down upon him with each wasted day at the Dursleys.
"Please," added Vernon with great effort. Surprised to hear such a word from his uncle, Harry sat at the kitchen table.
"I've changed my mind," said Vernon. "I don't believe a word of this—this claptrap."
"Here we go again," said Harry shrugging his shoulders.
"Don't use that tone," screeched his aunt. Vernon shot her a quick look and waved her down.
"I was up late last night—couldn't sleep—thinking it all over—and it came to me," said Vernon as though on the verge of an epiphany. "I think it's a plot to get the house!"
"This house," asked Harry incredulously.
"Yes, this house," barked Vernon. "Prices are skyrocketing in this neighborhood, and I think it's all an elaborate scheme to get us away on holiday while you or your freakish lot pull some hocus pocus and your name will be on the deed!"
"I already have a house," said Harry. "Why would I want this one—all the happy memories?" He glared between his uncle and aunt.
"You'd sell it for your own gain," said Vernon.
"I have plenty of money," said Harry. "I have a vault at Gringotts containing a small fortune—I think I'll manage."
"Alright," said Vernon waving his portly hands. "This say—Lord Thingy—the one who killed your folks—you claim he's back and that we're in danger—"
"We've been through this already," said Harry losing his patience. "Mr. Weasley and Kingsley explained it all to you, as did Professor Dumbledore last summer, that once I turn seventeen, the protection around this house will end and you'll be in danger. Voldemort won't have any hesitation to take you hostage, to torture you, and ultimately kill you, simply to get to me. He'd certainly expect me to come and rescue you." Harry wondered for a moment if he would try to save them; meeting Vernon's eyes he was sure his uncle was wondering the same thing.
"Say, for the sake of argument that we agree to have this protection," Vernon continued after a moment, "why can't we have ministry protection? It only seems appropriate as our lives have been placed in danger simply for harboring a marked man."
"You're welcome to it," said Harry. "You heard Kingsley—the ministry's been infiltrated. I've been in danger my whole life and the ministry has yet to keep me safe, but if you want to take your chances then don't let me stop you."
"Alright then," said Vernon. "Why can't we have this Kingsley bloke?"
"He's protecting your prime minister."
"Exactly—he's the best."
"Well you can't have him," said Harry quickly. "Diggle and Jones are more than up to the task."
"If it's as bad as your lot say it is, why haven't we heard anything about it, eh?"
"You have been hearing about it," Harry retorted. His patience had thinned. He pointed to the television in the living room. "You've seen the derailments, the explosions, the crashes—that's Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It's sport to them, killing Muggles like you. People are disappearing and dying every day. And this is just the beginning. He's got giants, Inferi, and Dementors at his disposal. If you don't remember what Dementors are, you can ask Dudley. I'm sure he remembers." At this point, Vernon and Petunia turned to their son.
"There's—more of them?"
"Hundreds," said Harry. "Maybe thousands by now. They feed on fear and despair—"
"Alright, alright," said Vernon flustered now, "you've made your point."
"I hope so," said Harry. "I really do, because when I leave they're all coming for me and this place will no longer be safe. They won't care that you never liked me, they won't care that you never wanted me here, but they'll use you if they think they can get to me and kill you afterwards. If that doesn't work, they'll just kill you anyway. You can't hide from these people by ordinary ways—you remember the last time you tried to outrun wizards—you need help and the Order is offering it."
"But what about our work—Dudley's school—I don't suppose your lot understands how important a job is or—"
"They will kill you," shouted Harry, "just like my parents."
"Dad," said Dudley, "Dad—I'm going with these Order people."
"Smart move, Dudley," said Harry. Harry knew the argument was over; with Dudley scared and willing to take any help, uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia would simply fall in line. Harry looked at the kitchen clock.
"Right, they'll be here in five minutes." Harry retreated from the kitchen with nothing else to say. He returned to his room and double checked that he had everything ready; Hedwig was in her cage, his Firebolt leaned on the wall next the bedroom door and his rucksack had been packed and ready on his bed.
"We're almost free," Harry said to his snowy owl. "You'll never be in a cage again." She responded with a soft hoot and ruffled her feathers in a clear display of restlessness. Five minutes quickly passed and the doorbell rang below. Harry dashed back down the stairs and greeted Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones.
"Harry Potter, an honor we meet again," said Dedalus, bowing in the doorway. Hestia likewise greeted him with a broad smile.
"I appreciate you doing this," said Harry inviting them in quickly. "They're just through here in the living room."
"Excellent," said Dedalus as they followed Harry into the living room.
"Good day to you, relatives of Harry Potter," said Dedalus, outstretching his hand with great enthusiasm. Vernon considered the man through bulging eyes but did not respond. Realizing that he was not going to be shaking hands, Dedalus quickly recovered. "All packed? Ready to go? Tight schedule of course—Harry will have already told you then plan, I'm sure—good lad that he is." Dedalus did not see the dumbfounded look upon Harry's aunt and uncle, clearly surprised that anyone would ever describe him as "good".
"We'll be first to leave," continued Dedalus without pause. "We'll use Muggle transport—drive about ten miles out before Disapparating to the safe location have set up for you. I trust you know how to drive?" Dedalus turned to Vernon inquisitively. Vernon turned purple for the umpteenth time that evening.
"Yes I know how to drive!"
"Splendid," replied Dedalus unaware of how flustered Vernon had become. "Very clever of you—I wouldn't know where to start—difficult contraptions these Muggle carriages." He then turned to Harry. "You will wait for your guard, Harry. There has been a small change regarding your exit plan."
"I thought Mad-Eye was taking me with Side-Along-Apparition?"
"Can't do it, Harry," interjected Hestia. "Mad-Eye will explain it to you." Harry nodded.
"The plan," resumed Dedalus, "is that you will depart from the house at the same time as your family's Disapparition—the idea being that the charm will break the moment you all head for safety." He turned to the Dursleys. "Ready to do?" The Dursleys did not answer, though Vernon's head snapped toward the door indicating they were.
"We'll just wait outside the hall," said Hestia, "while you say goodbye."
"Don't bother," said Harry.
"Well, good-bye, then," said Vernon who looked as though he were about to shake Harry's hand, but then reconsidered quickly. Dudley and Petunia joined Vernon at the door.
"Why isn't he coming with us," said Dudley rather suddenly.
"What's wrong with you," asked Vernon. "He doesn't want to come." He swiftly turned to face Harry with a sudden unsure look in his eyes. "You don't, do you?"
"Absolutely not," said Harry.
"See, Dudley," said Vernon, putting a hand on his shoulders as he directed Dudley towards the door, "He doesn't want to come." Dudley however, didn't budge.
"Where's he going?"
"Surely, you know where he's going," said Hestia now looking between Harry's relatives with a newfound curiousness.
"Well he's off with your lot, isn't he," said Vernon. "Now come along, son, it's time to go."
"Off with some of our lot?" Hestia's forehead flushed red beneath her dark brown hair.
"It's alright," said Harry, wanting to diffuse what he knew could become a very heated exchange. "It doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters," retorted Hestia in a raised voice. "Don't they realize what you've been through? The dangers you're in? Don't they know what you mean to wizards everywhere?"
"No—they think I'm a waste of space, really," said Harry. "It's best not to enlighten them now—it won't change anything."
"I don't think you're a waste of space," said Dudley. "You saved my life." At that moment all the inhabitants of Number Four, Private Drive, fell into awkward silence. Petunia looked on the verge of tears while Vernon stood with a befuddled expression.
"Blimey, Dudley, what's gotten into you," asked Harry.
"Dunno," he shrugged.
"So sweet," whimpered Petunia, "saying thank you—"
"I beg your pardon," said an outraged Hestia, "he didn't say thank you at all, just that he wasn't a waste of space!"
"Yeah, well, from Dudley—" said Harry trying to explain but he was interrupted.
"Enough already," bellowed Vernon. "Are we leaving or not?"
"Yes, yes," said Dedalus. "Best be off, we're already running a bit behind." He turned to Harry as the Dursleys began making their way out the door. "Best of luck, Harry Potter. We're all behind you."
"Yes," said Hestia beside Dedalus now. "We'll be ready when you need us."
"Thank you," said Harry. "I hope they don't give you too much trouble."
"Oh we shall be the best of chums before the trip is over, I suspect," said Dedalus as he shook Harry's hand with both of his. "It's my pleasure to help Harry Potter—our world rests on your shoulders."
"Right," said Harry, "thanks." Dudley was the last to leave. He approached Harry, timidly, and then held out one of his pudgy hands. Harry took his hand bewildered by his cousin's sudden change in behavior.
"Take care, Harry," said Dudley. "See you later."
"Yeah, maybe," said Harry taken aback. "See ya, Big D." Then, as though realizing what he'd done, Dudley hastily scampered out the door after his parents. Harry watched from the kitchen window as they loaded into Vernon's car and took off down the street. Once they had disappeared from view, Harry returned to his room, snatched up his broom, slung his rucksack over his back, and picked up Hedwig's cage and made his way back into the kitchen and waited.
As night fell Harry heard the distinct rumble of an engine outside. He stood with his nose an inch from the kitchen window overlooking Private Drive, watchful for any unusual movement. A moment later, Disillusionment Charms abated one-by-one, revealing members of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry rushed to the door and swung it wide open as they entered as they all filed in.
Hermione was first inside, flinging her arms around him. Ron followed closely behind giving him a brotherly clap on the back. Hagrid wrestled his body through the doorway but greeted Harry with his usual bearded smile. Fred and George joined them a moment later, followed immediately by Bill and Fleur. Tonks, Remus, Mr. Weasley, and Kingsley came next followed at the rear by Mundungus Fletcher who was clearly being routed by Mad-Eye.
"I wasn't expected all of you," said Harry. "Diggle said something about plans changing but this isn't what came to mind." He rounded to Kingsley, "I thought you were guarding the Prime Minister?"
"You are much more important," said Kingsley seriously.
"Harry, guess what," said Tonks stepping forward and waving her left hand at him. A slim silver band glistened beneath the kitchen light.
"You were married?" He looked back and forth between Tonks and Remus.
"It was a small ceremony," said Remus. "We're sorry you could not be there."
"Yes, well it's all bloody romantic, but it'll have to wait," growled Mad-Eye as he took his place front and center of the group. He looked at harry intently with his real eye while his magical one whizzed in circles. "As Dedalus told you, we've had to ditch the original plan; Thicknesse has gone over—either under the Imperius Curse or his own choice and he's made it an imprisonable offense to connect this house to Floo, place a Portkey, or Apparate in and out—all for your safety of course—pointless, given your mother's charm does that already. What's he's really done is all but guarantee you can't leave this place without the Ministry, and consequently, the Dark Lord knowing it."
"What about Scrimgeour," asked Harry. "Wouldn't the Minister of Magic already know about the wards?"
"Scrimgeour's dealing with a hailstorm right now," replied Kingsley. "He depends on people like Thicknesse managing everyday events while he's trying to organize contingences and counter measures against You-Know-Who. He's an excellent Auror—knows the dark arts better than most—but he's still just one man. It's likely he's completely unaware of the security change regarding this house."
"And no one thought to inform him," asked Harry, surprised.
"Can't get an audience with him at the moment," barked Mad-Eye. "Likewise, we can't communicate something this important by other means in case it's intercepted. Regardless, we've let slip a false trail to make the Ministry think you're leaving on the thirtieth. However, it's not likely that You-Know-Who won't have placed a few lookouts; they know the approximate location of the house so we can't take any chances. We've established several safe houses—all connected to someone in the Order—given all sorts of protective enchantments and charms we can think of—they'll have a hard time getting to you, let alone even finding you." Harry however, could clearly see one significant factor they all seemed to have overlooked.
"So they won't know what safe house I'm in," said Harry speaking up, "but don't you think that'd be obvious pretty quickly once they see all fourteen of us heading to any of these locations?" Mad-Eye's magical eye had now turned to examine Harry.
"Ah, yes, well I haven't told you the key point yet, have I?" He reached into the inside of his cloak and withdrew a large clear flask, the contents resembling thick gluttonous mud. "I heard rumor you are familiar with this particular brew? You see, there won't be fourteen of us flying to the same safe house; there will be seven Harry Potters flying through the night sky, each accompanied by an Order member."
"No," said Harry, the sharpness of his voice even surprising himself. Hermione quickly came to his side.
"Harry, I knew you wouldn't like this, but try to listen and—" but Harry gave her a fierce look that quieted her immediately.
"I'm not letting anyone risk their lives—"
"Because we've never done that before," said Ron. Harry rounded on him.
"No, this is different, Ron—pretending to be me," said Harry, speaking faster than usual, "—you'll be placing a target on your own back."
"None of us fancy it, Harry," said Fred smirking, "Imagine if we were to end up stuck as a specky, scrawny git forever?"
"I won't allow it," said Harry. "I've got to give you my hair for this to work and—"
"Well I guess we've all got to go home now," said George. "I mean, if Harry here won't cooperate, thirteen of us won't be enough against the Chosen One." Harry clenched his fists with this remark. He caught Ron and Hermione's worried looks from the corner of his eye.
"You think this is a joke, George," asked Harry, feeling his own face turn red, "because it isn't funny."
"If it comes to force, so be it," growled Mad-Eye stepping closer to Harry. "Everyone here is of age, Potter; they know the risk."
"But it's mad," argued Harry.
"It most certainly is," said Mad-Eye. "You-Know-Who is out there, waiting for you to make your move, and he has half the Ministry keeping a lookout for you—if we're lucky he'll have taken the fake bait and we'll make it to the safe houses without incident—but we can't be too sure. The protective charm on this house is about to break, and as I said, he knows the approximate location of this place. If we're attacked tonight, they won't be expecting seven of you. At any rate, You-Know-Who has made it clear that he wants to kill you personally, so anyone disguised as you won't be danger of being killed by Death Eaters—it'll be the exposed Order members that'll have the targets on their back. Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into seven." Harry briefly caught Hermione's eye and looked down at his feet.
"So, Potter, some of you hair, please," Mad-Eye commanded, holding the open flask in front of him. Grudgingly, not seeing how he could change Mad-Eye's mind, he reached up and yanked a small tuft of hair and tossed it into the flask. The potion hissed and smoked once Harry's hair hit the potion's surface. It bubbled for a few moments and turned into a clear bright gold.
"You look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry," said Hermione.
"Had Polyjuice before, eh, miss innocent," teased Fred.
"It was only to discover if Malfoy was being the Chamber of Secrets," quipped Hermione as her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. "And we weren't too far off base with our suspicions, were we—the diary did come from Draco's father after all—and Goyle's potion looked like bogies."
"Careful, Fred," warned George, "you'll wind up at the receiving end of her wand."
"Alright, fake Potters line up over here," said Mad-Eye, pointing to the kitchen counter while ignoring the twins. Fred, George, Fleur, Mundungus, Ron, and Hermione lined up single file in front of the aged Auror. He handed the flask to Fred. "Fair warning—Polyjuice Potion—tastes like Goblin piss."
"I sense a story behind that," said George as his twin brother took a swallow and chocked, "personal experience, perhaps?"
"Shut it and drink," growled Mad-Eye. One-by-one each of the volunteers took a swig from the flask. Harry watched as Hermione and Mundungus sprouted in height while Ron and the twins shrunk considerably as their hair darkened. All their faces contorted in varying distortion as though made of melted wax. A few moments later and Harry saw six Harry Potters looking back at him. Mad-Eye quickly handed new identical clothes to each of the imposters, along with matching glasses. Harry had never felt more violated as they changed into identical clothes without any consideration for his privacy.
"I knew Ginny was lying," said Ron, carefully examining his bare chest. "You don't have a tattoo."
"Ginny has never seen my chest, Ron," said Harry quickly.
"Harry, your eyesight is terrible," said Hermione as she put on the glasses. "We really should get you some new ones, these are hideous." Finally, all the fake Potters were dressed and looked inseparable. Mad-Eye gave an approving nod and separated them into pairs; Mundungus and Mad-Eye, Fred and Arthur, George and Remus, Fleur and Bill, Hermione and Kingsley, Ron with Tonks, and finally, the real Harry was partnered with Hagrid.
"Death Eaters will be expecting you to be on a broom," explained Mad-Eye, "so you'll be with Hagrid on Sirius' old motorbike—that'll be the last mode of transportation they'd expect the real you to take." With the plan finalized, Mad-Eye led them all to the back yard. There two Thestrals, multiple brooms, and a large blue motorcycle with a side car awaited them.
"So this was Sirius' bike," asked Harry.
"That she is, Harry," answered Hagrid. "An' the last time yeh was on it, I could fit yeh in one o' me hands. It on'y seemed right ter take yeh away from here the same way I brought yeh." He beamed down at Harry, his beady eyes just a little teary. "I wished I'd let Sirius take yeh, Harry. You'd never have had ter live with them Muggles."
"Even if you had, Hagrid, I wouldn't have been able to stay with him. Remember, everyone thought he was my parent's secret keeper and had killed Peter Pettigrew." Hagrid mumbled. Harry released Hedwig from her cage and scrunched himself into the side car with his broom and rucksack.
"Arthur's tinkered with it a bit," said Hagrid, pointing the purple button. "Ain't no Death Eater be expectin' that."
"Be careful, Hagrid," said Mr. Weasley as he mounted his broom. "Putting too much magic into a muggle item can be disastrous and I'm still not sure it was a good idea." Harry smirked as he remembered the flying Ford Angelina and knew Mr. Weasley was speaking from experience.
"That's enough chit chat," growled Moody as mounted his own broom at the front of the group. Beside him, Mundungus looked as uncomfortable as he'd ever been. "Good luck, everyone—see you all at the Burrow in about an hour—on the count of three now. One…two…three!"
The motorcycle roared into life as Harry was forced back into the seat of the sidecar as the bike lifted from the ground with tremendous force. They ascended into the night sky as Number Four Private Drive quickly faded from view. For a few moments while Harry watched his imposters and their guards fly around him, he let out a sigh of relief; they had left undetected.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind where they surround by multiple hooded figures. The Death Eaters had surrounded them. Green lights soon filled the sky in every direction. Hagrid swerved the bike violently, tipping them nearly sideways as Harry's broom fell and hurtled to the earth below. He managed to cling to his rucksack with one hand as the other one held him to the side car. Hagrid reamed on the throttle as they barreled through the cluster of Death Eaters in front of them. Two green jets of light screamed past Hagrid's head as two Death Eaters gave chase. Harry looked over his shoulder; each pair of the Order had dispersed into different directions.
"Watch it, Harry," shouted Hagrid as they dove to avoid a third Death Eater who charged them head on. As the masked rider flew past Harry sent a stunning spell after him but missed.
"Hang on, Harry," shouted Hagrid again as they swerved left and then right.
"Hagrid, We've got to turn around," Harry demanded. "We've got to help the others."
"Can't do it, Harry—Mad-Eye's orders—I'm ter get yeh there safe!" Again the trio of Death Eaters were close on their tail as they hurled killing curses at Hagrid. Harry shot another stunner at them, splitting the group as it flew down the center.
"Just kill 'em both," shouted one of the Death Eaters behind him. "Potter will be on a broom." Harry turned just in time to see the nearest Death Eater shoot a killing curse directly at him. A moment passed between the Death Eaters curse and Harry's unconscious decision to duck when a Hedwig came between them. The curse hit the snowy owl dead center and Harry watched as his companion—his only living connection to the magical world during those terrible summers at the Dursleys, fell from the sky.
"Hold tight, Harry," yelled Hagrid as he slammed his fist into the purple button. Harry was nearly flung from the sidecar from the force of the dragon fire that erupted from the bikes exhaust. In just a few seconds they were propelled far ahead of their attackers. They were not alone for long however, as moments later two new Death Eaters pursued them. Harry continued his volley of stunning spells hoping to hold them off as long as possible. As one if Harry's stunners flew by one of the Death Eaters he caught a glimpse of the attackers face; Stan Shunpike.
"Expelliarmus," shouted Harry. The Death Eaters immediately pulled back.
"It's him, the real one. Hold your wand." Hagrid took advantage and slammed the dragon-fire a second time.
"I think we lost 'em," said Hagrid as the dragon-fire extinguished. "We're nearly there." But Harry did hear him—his scar burst as though exposed to open flame. Forcing his eyes open he saw him; flying with his body cloaked in black smoke with no broom to support him—Voldemort. Hagrid bellowed in fear as he lunged the bike forward into a vertical dive. Harry lost all sense of direction between the div and the searing pain in his forehead. He didn't know where Voldemort was. Eyes closed, he prepared for what he knew was coming. And then his wand dragged his hand into a raised position; brilliant golden fire shot towards Voldemort in a spiral from his wand. He heard a scream and Voldemort hissed "Selwyn, give me your wand!" Harry looked in the direction of his wand and saw the red glaring eyes staring back at him, their murderous intent unmistakable. Voldemort raised his wand, and then—he vanished.
() () ()
It had been a long night at the Burrow; Harry and Hagrid had been the first to arrive by Portkey from Tonk's parents. Remus had interrogated him to see if he'd been an imposter after he'd supported George into the living room, his face covered his blood and a missing ear cursed off by Snape. Kingsley and Hermione had been the next to arrive. Hermione had unreservedly flung herself into Harry's arms and stood as a shield to him when Kingsley pointed his wand at Harry. Remus had quickly diffused the situation. Mr. Weasley and Fred arrived next, followed by Ron and Tonks. Last to arrive was Bill and Fleur. They had all gathered around George in the living room when Bill announced that Mad-Eye had been killed. They all had shared a toast to the fallen warrior—the ever vigilant survivor. He and Remus had left immediately hoping to retrieve the body. Harry made an effort to go too but it was quickly shot down.
"I've got to go too," said Harry. Nearly everyone in the room quickly rounded on him but Harry held his ground. "I can't stay here. You're all in danger while I'm here."
"Nonsense," said Mrs. Weasley. "You-Know-Who's got no way of knowing where you are."
"That's right," said Mr. Weasley. "You could be at a dozen places each with significant protection.
"It's not me I'm worried about!"
"We know that," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "If you left tonight it would make our efforts seem rather pointless."
"Yer not goin' anywhere," growled Hagrid.
"Yeah, don't forget about my ear," said George.
"Mad-eye wouldn't want—"
"I KNOW!" They all fell silent again. Hagrid however, did not let it last long.
"Wait till it gets out yeh did it again, Harry," said Hagrid. "Fought him off when he was right on top of yeh!"
"I didn't do anything—it was my wand—it acted on its own."
"That's impossible Harry," said Hermione. "You mean you did magic without meaning too; you did it instinctively."
"No," said harry shaking his head. "My scar was hurting, I couldn't see where he was, my wand spun in my hand and shot golden flames at him. I don't know any magic like that."
"Sometimes, it is possible to produce very powerful magic when under significant duress," said Mr. Weasley.
"ENOUGH," said Harry, louder than he meant to. They all fell silent again. "I want to be very clear—I can see it on your faces; I don't have any special power so you can all just take the thought right out of your heads." Harry turned on his heels and raced upstairs to Ron's bedroom. He flung himself onto the spare bed that he'd always slept in and threw his face into the pillow. Mad-Eye was dead, Hedwig was gone, and they all believed him to have power he couldn't hope to imagine.
A few minutes later Hermione came in and sat at the edge of his bed. He knew it was her because her hand and glided comfortingly up his back.
"Don't be mad at them, Harry, they don't know the truth," she said.
"But they have a pretty good idea," said Harry, his voice muted by the pillow, "even if they don't know the details."
"They suspect, like everyone else," she said. "They can see it on your face, Harry. At least the adults do. I'm not sure Ginny does. They can tell you're holding a heavy burden." Harry didn't respond.
"Tell me about your wand, Harry," said Hermione after a moment. "You said it wasn't you but wands are not known to act on their own, it certainly isn't normal."
"Since when has anything in our lives ever been normal, Hermione?"
"Not since Halloween of first year," replied Hermione. "Even so, a wand has to have an intent—they only channel and focus magic, Harry."
"I've told you what I know, Hermione." He shook his head. "Dumbledore would know."
"Harry, please look at me." Harry turned his head from the pillow. Hermione got down on her knees beside the bed while one of her hands continued to rest on his back.
"I wish he was still here to help you, Harry," said Hermione. "Seeing as he's not, you'll just have to settle for me."