Chapter 52

Meetings before Breakfast

Harry came to consciousness, suddenly, with a vague feeling of unease. Someone was watching him. He tried to shift a little in the warmth of the blankets and felt a weight on his stomach. He opened his eyes and saw two huge green globes directly in front of him.

"AAAAH! Dobby! How many times have I told you not to do that?"

"Many times, Harry Potter. Many times. But Dobby could not help himself. He could not. Dobby can hardly believe that Harry Potter is alive. Dobby should have known better than to think that the great wizard Harry Potter could have been defeated by the Dark Lord. No, no. Those who say those things did not know what a great wizard Harry Potter truly is."

Harry struggled to sit up even though Dobby was still sitting on him, and reached for his glasses. When things came into focus, he looked again at the house elf. "It's good to see you, Dobby. How are you doing?" Dobby was looking clean but he could by no stretch of anyone's imagination be called neat. The elf had a passion for all items of clothing now that he was allowed to wear it and seemed to collect any and all that he could find. And he insisted on wearing most of his entire collection at all times. The only allowance he had made for the fact that it was now summer was that he only wore one knit cap rather than the 20 or 30 or so that he tended to wear in the winter. He still had on multiple socks, though, and none of them matched. Harry forced himself to keep a straight face as he looked at him.

"Oh, sir, sir. That such a great wizard as Harry Potter should ask how Dobby is doing. Such a great honor, sir, that you should even remember his name!"

"Of course, I remember your name, Dobby. After all, you saved my life, remember?" That was their own little private joke. Dobby had actually put Harry's life in danger on a few occasions through the years although he had always been trying to help. He had been helpful, of course, helping with the Gillyweed during the Tri-Wizard Tournament and warning of a raid by Dolores Umbridge just the year before. But Dobby always laughed and flushed when Harry said this to him.

"It was nothing, sir. Nothing that any good house elf would do for such a wizard as Harry Potter. You let Dobby know if he can do anything else for you."

"Of course, of course."

"Dobby brought you these." Dobby held out two socks, a pair in a way, though the patterns did not match, that had obviously been knitted in great haste. "Dobby stayed up all night knitting them for Harry Potter. Dobby thought Harry Potter might need more socks."

"Thank you, Dobby." Harry took the socks from the elf and looked them over. One sock was green and showed Harry in his Quidditch robes flying on his broomstick. The other was red and showed Harry pointing his wand at a very disgruntled-looking dragon . They were obviously scenes from the battle the evening before and Harry was truly touched. "They're beautiful, Dobby. You must have worked very hard. I'm impressed."

"Then Harry Potter will wear them?"

"Um, well, these are more winter socks, aren't they?" At Dobby's brief nod, Harry smiled. "Then I will wear them this winter. You're a good friend, Dobby. Thank you so much."

"Well, Harry Potter, Dobby must be getting back to the kitchens. Others will wonder where Dobby has gone. The elves are preparing a very big breakfast today. It is a celebration. All the professors are back and students are hungry again." Harry nodded vaguely, glancing at the clock. His meeting with Dumbledore was in 30 minutes. He would have to hurry to get there on time. "Dobby also knows that Harry brought back a Cassie. A pretty girl." Harry suddenly blushed.

"I brought her to protect her. She will be going home today. But she is very pretty, isn't she?" Dobby didn't answer -- he was already out the door. Harry got out of bed, stretched, and looked around his dorm room. Everyone else was still asleep and although Harry was tempted to wake Ron up, he resisted. He was the only one that needed to meet Dumbledore this early. No point in waking anyone else. A gentle hooting drew his attention automatically to Hedwig's cage and he suddenly realized Hedwig must have returned from a night of hunting. She had returned to her cage. "Ah, Hedwig. I missed you." At this, Hedwig flew over, landing on his outstretched arm and giving his ear an affectionate nip. He petted her for a minute or so and then reluctantly put her back in her cage where she again hooted and then closed her eyes.

Harry pulled on his clothes quickly and tried to do something with his hair. He gave up after a few minutes. Then he brushed his teeth and slipped his robes on over his jeans and T-shirt. He went downstairs to the common room and was pleased to note that overnight a good many of the black ribbons had been removed. There were still a few around the pictures and the black banner was still there, but it looked a lot more cheerful than the night before.

He exited the portrait hole and hoped that by the time he got back, someone else would be available to open it. He did not want to say the ridiculous password that Hermione had suggested when people still thought he was dead. It would just be too embarrassing. He strode down the familiar hallways toward the Headmaster's office, looking at everything with new eyes and feeling a strange love for the place. He had always loved Hogwarts and considered it home, but after being forced to be away for so long, Harry felt that way even stronger now. In a surprisingly short amount of time he was looking up at the gargoyle that protected the stairs to Dumbledore's office. "Canary creams" he said and the gargoyle moved aside, the wall slid open, and Harry stepped onto the stairs which slowly began to rotate upward.

A few moments later, Harry stepped into the familiar office. He had been here a little over 12 hours ago but he felt a lot calmer now than he had on the last occasion. But he did have a lot of questions. And he thought Dumbledore would be willing to answer them.

"Harry." Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore standing at the top of the small circular staircase that graced his office and he smiled broadly.

"Professor Dumbledore." Somehow, in those simple addresses of each other, a warmth of feeling passed between them, an understanding that was deeper than words. There was no need for them to say how much they had missed each other, how scared they had been for each other, how disappointed they were at the outcome of yesterday's battle, or anything else. No, it was all unnecessary.

"I told you yesterday that I would talk to you this morning about several different issues." Harry nodded. He had a lot of questions, but now that the time had come to ask them, he didn't really know where to start. He hoped Dumbledore would begin but after a few moments passed, Dumbledore still hadn't said anything. He tried to catch one the many questions that were fluttering around in his brain like errant sparrows, but they kept eluding his grasp. Finally, Harry managed to say something.

"What sorts of issues, Professor?" Dumbledore smiled kindly at him.

"I'm pleased, Harry, with the outcome of yesterday's battle, even though we didn't manage to succeed in our ultimate aim, killing Voldemort."

"Yeah, uh, yes. You said something about keeping Voldemort away from Hogwarts. That somehow that was important." Suddenly, the sparrows landed in a neat little row, and Harry had a million questions to ask. He just hoped they stayed in place until this one was answered.

"Ah, yes. I thought you might catch onto that. Well, Harry, I'll try to make this fairly simple." Dumbledore sat down in his chair and pulled a small silver gadget over to him. He started fiddling with the delicate dials on it. For some reason, the sight of the gadget reminded Harry of the time a year before when he had completely destroyed the office and that made him think of what he had told Hermione the night before when he was destroying Dumbledore's office again! Harry had a sudden sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked around quickly at the bookshelves, his face flaming. Everything seemed to be in place. The pillows were back to being pillows, and the books all seemed to be looking like, uh, books. He wanted to apologize for making a big mess and not cleaning up after himself but Dumbledore started speaking and Harry didn't want to interrupt.

"Hogwarts, as you may have guessed, is much more than just a school, Harry. You have often heard it said that Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain. Part of that, I must say in all modesty, is due to my presence here. But part of it is just because . . . . it is Hogwarts. When the four original founders wanted to organize a school, they searched all over Britain and, I believe, in some other countries as well. They settled on this location, finally, because there is strong magic here, naturally, in the rocks and the grass and the water. I will not try to explain this to you. I dare say you would not understand it. As far as I know, there are only two alive who do understand it. I am one of the two. I think I understand it, at least in part. I think, well, I am quite sure, that Voldemort understands it. I think that somewhere, sometime, someway in his quest for the ultimate knowledge of evil and power and immortality, he came across this information in a text somewhere. He must have realized that he would never control, could never have complete control, of the wizarding world until he controlled Hogwarts." Harry started at that. He couldn't have been more surprised if Dumbledore had told him that Snape was his long-lost brother.

Dumbledore noticed and smiled again, still fiddling with the dials. "Yes, it's true. The founders used the strong magic already here and strengthened it, uh, perhaps a word you would understand is focused it. They took it and focused it and somehow, I could not even begin to tell you how they did this, but they formed it. They put it into the very stones of this castle." He smiled again, vaguely, out the window, and Harry had the impression that he was looking somewhere very far away from this office. "Voldemort wants the strength in these stones, Harry. Oh, yes, he wants immortality, and he wants power, and he wants people to fear him. But more than anything, he wants the stones of this castle. He wants the strength of these stones. If he can add their strength to his . . . ." He sighed deeply and in the early morning sunlight, Harry saw the lines of exhaustion on his face again. "He will not stop trying to take over this castle until he either succeeds or he is dead. It is that simple. And so, once again, we come to the root of the matter." Harry swallowed. It always came around to this. His job. His. Alone.

"Yeah." Harry stood. "I've got to kill him. It always comes down to that, doesn't it? I can do it. I almost had him last night. He was frightened. He ran from me. I would have had him . . . if he couldn't have apparated." He didn't mention that he had been distracted by the sudden appearance of his godfather. There would be time for discussing that later. When it didn't hurt quite so badly.

"Yes." Dumbledore didn't say anything more.

"We should have had people behind, someone to keep him from going back out the gates . . . if he couldn't have gotten out of the gates . . . maybe it would all be over now."



"That was part of the plan. We actually had a group of Aurors and townspeople coming from Hogsmeade. They were to come in through the gates and block any retreat. Unfortunately, even though they felt their path to the castle was clear and that they would be able to take it without a fight, the Death Eaters were worried about some resistance coming behind them once people figured out what was happening. So, Voldemort or one of his inner circle, set up some very powerful wards and force fields We had not expected that, and our people were not able to get past them quickly enough. They did arrive at the very end of the battle, you may have noticed."

Harry nodded vaguely and sat back down. He couldn't remember much after Fawkes . . . just the screaming he had done and the bright green spell he had cast. He wished he had cast it one second sooner. "I can't remember . . . I don't . . ."

"Well, it's no matter." They both sat silently for quite a few minutes. Dumbledore had stopped fiddling with the dials on his gadget and Harry stared out the window.

"Um, speaking of coming up behind you . . . ." Harry started, unsure of exactly what he wanted to ask, but knowing that he had to find out. "There were no . . . Slytherins, not at battle, not at dinner. But they are still at school."

"Yes. We were worried about the students in that house." Dumbledore had a rather peculiar look on his face and Harry couldn't decipher it. "Some, perhaps, would have fought on our side, protecting the school, but . . . . some would be fighting their own parents . . . or uncles or cousins. Could we ask that of them? Could we . . . take a chance? We decided that no, we could not. So, we simply sealed them in their common room. They could not exit last night after 5 until this morning. They were served dinner last night and I am sure that none suffered too greatly for their ordeal. Of course, they will come out again this morning for breakfast and they will have to deal with some rather, um, unpleasant news."

"You mean, about their parents?"

"Yes. And the fact that a certain Harry Potter is still alive. I think that not all the . . . students will be happy about that." Harry smiled vaguely. Any other time, any other circumstances, perhaps he would have laughed. But he didn't really think that even the sour expression on Malfoy's face would make him feel better at this moment. The weight of his responsibility and all of its consequences settled heavy on his shoulders this morning. He shrugged and then grimaced to himself. That would not help matters.

"But, Snape . . . he should have. . . fought with the teachers. I mean, he's a member of the Order. He could have helped." Harry's voice grew louder at the end of his sentence. He still, if he was honest with himself, blamed Snape for everything that had gone wrong the year before even though he knew that he himself had certainly made the ultimate fatal errors. Anytime that a fault of Snape's could be pointed out, Harry made sure to do it.

"Yes, perhaps." Dumbledore was patient with Harry's feelings about Snape and somehow it always made Harry feel ashamed. "But, if he had been seen, actively fighting against Voldemort, with the Order . . . . Well, there would have been no possibility of his ever spying for us again. And," he raised his hand when Harry was about to speak, "in spite of everything, he is a good spy. No, a great spy. And, he is a valuable resource. We simply locked him in his office after administering a very strong sleeping potion. He can, in all honesty, say when questioned that he was unconscious through the entire battle and thus could not have helped the Death Eaters."

"Oh." Again, there were several long minutes of silence and Harry looked over at Fawkes' perch where the now-ugly baby bird slept. "Um, Professor Dumbledore? Did they really change that much?"



"Did what really change that much, Harry?"

"Oh, my letters. My letters to you."

"Yes. Every day in your letters you asked to come back, asked if some other way could be found, said you hated it there. Then, one day, you . . . just said that the weather was nice there. At first, I thought you had just reconciled yourself to your fate, unpleasant though it may be. But, the next day . . . .Well, the next day I knew that you had met someone, a friend perhaps, but I suspected something more." Harry flushed beet red and he stared hard at an imaginary speck of dust on the surface of Dumbledore's desk. Dumbledore pulled out a small packet of envelopes and Harry realized with a shock that they were addressed in his handwriting and that these were the letters he had sent to Dumbledore each morning. Dumbledore opened the one on the top of the pile and pulled out the folded parchment inside.

"Dear Professor, I am well. I hope you are, too. Nothing too exciting is happening here."

"That's it? From that, you could tell about . . . Cassie?" Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

"You asked how I was doing and you studiously avoided telling me anything at all. Classic signs of someone who is trying very hard to not say anything. Signs of someone who is very happy themselves, perhaps in love, and wanting everyone else to be just as happy."

Harry shook his head. "You got all that from three sentences?"

"I have, over the years, spoken and interacted with many students, Harry. Things don't really change very much when it comes to dealing with human emotions like love."

"Oh. I don't know if I . . . love her."

"Um, well things would be difficult, it is true. And, your feelings for Miss Weasley . . . Yes. But there are different sorts of love, you know. You loved Sirius and he loved you. You love Remus. You love your friends Ron and Hermione. You can love Miss Robinson also." Harry knew that what Dumbledore said was true, but he also knew that he had never even considered doing to any one of those people his headmaster had listed the sorts of things he had done with Cassie, so he wasn't sure that this was a fair comparison. He nodded instead of saying that, though, meaning to drop the subject. But then suddenly it all came rushing out.

"But I did love her. I . . . she doesn't want to love me. Not in that way. She says that I . . . need Ginny and she's right, in a way, I guess, and I don't know what to do now. I mean, she's got to go home, today, and then I'll never see her again and . . . ." Harry's voice trailed off miserably. This was all very embarrassing to admit. Dumbledore was nodding sympathetically, though, rather than laughing.

"And actually, on top of all those already very confusing thoughts, I need to add one more. We need to discuss Miss Robinson in some depth this morning. Professor Lupin should be here soon. He is important to this discussion." Harry remembered then that Remus had said he would be here for this meeting. He wondered what he could possibly contribute to the discussion of his very confused love-life. Remus didn't really seem to have had that much experience . . . but Harry trusted Remus and just hoped that he wouldn't laugh too loudly when he heard of Harry's predicament. The office door opened, and Remus Lupin stepped into the office. Harry wondered momentarily if somehow Dumbledore had a signal rigged outside in the hall. If not, the timing was a very strange coincidence. But Harry didn't want to spend time wondering about that. He wanted to know what Remus would say about Cassie.

Remus smiled happily at both Dumbledore and Harry and then clapped Harry on the back. "It's so good to see you, Harry. It almost makes me believe in miracles." He sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs and looked between Dumbledore and Harry. "So, what's going on?"



"I believe you have met Miss Cassie Robinson?" Lupin nodded at Dumbledore's question.

"Yes, last night at dinner. Pretty girl, blonde, blue-eyed." Harry blushed.

"Perhaps I should let Harry explain further." Harry grimaced. Great.

"I met her in London." Lupin nodded again, not understanding the problem, obviously. "I was supposed to be dead. I was living as a Muggle." Suddenly, the light dawned in Lupin's eyes.

"She's a Muggle." This time it was Harry doing the nodding. "She's a Muggle. And she's here. And she knows about you. And Voldemort. And Hogwarts. And magic." Harry nodded after each brief statement, his stomach sinking farther and farther toward his feet.

"I had to do it. I mean . . . she would have been killed, at least. Maybe worse. It was Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle. She was in my house when Ron and Hermione came and the portkey, somehow it alerted the Death Eaters and they couldn't get in but we couldn't get out and it was all right for us but she couldn't go home and . . . ." Somehow the whole story came tumbling out, almost faster than he could spit out the words and then he was telling about the sudden terror with the portkey and then he fell silent and he felt the two older wizards' eyes on him and he wasn't sure what to do next. So he did nothing.

Finally, into the silence, Dumbledore spoke. "She needs to be taken home, Remus. She will have to be taken home the same way she came, using a portkey. As soon as possible. And when you get her there, you will have to modify her memory. She will need to forget everything. I think she should not even remember that she ever met Harry." Now Harry felt absolutely nauseated and he was glad that he didn't have any food in his stomach.

"No!" It was sudden and sharp but Harry didn't take it back. "No. I don't want her memory modified. I don't want her to forget me." He realized the complete and total impossibility of what he was asking but he could do nothing else. "She's a good person. She's trustworthy. And she's good at keeping secrets. She kept some of mine."

"You know, Harry, that . . ." Harry interrupted Remus before he could finish his statement.

"I know. But I, I need her." Two puzzled gazes met his. "Not that way. It's different now. I really do love Ginny . . . and Cassie knows that. And then last night Ginny, well, she kissed me and I kissed her back . . . and, I don't know, it just felt right." Harry blushed at the thought he was saying all of this to Dumbledore and Remus. However, they both nodded with comprehending expressions and Harry wondered for a brief moment before continuing on if perhaps both men had more experience with relationships than he originally thought. "And, uh, she's easy to talk to. She understands me. I . . . I want to be able to write to her and tell her things. She's smart. She's the one who thought of flying out and the one who said we should wear the Quidditch robes. I've never met a Muggle like her before."

"But is it fair to her? After all, she has seen a lot of things that are difficult and may be painful for her to remember." Harry hadn't thought about that until Remus said it.

"Oh."

Dumbledore spoke again. "Perhaps this is not a decision that we should be making for Miss Robinson, but one that she should be making for herself." After a moment's further thought, he repeated himself. "Yes, I think that would be the best option. She needs to make the decision for herself. We will meet again at, um, 11:00 this morning. That will give me time to get some Ministry business settled that I cannot put off any further. And then we will present the options to her, get to know her a little better, and help her make a decision that is best for everyone. Remus, please be sure to be here so she can get to know you better. She needs to trust you implicitly. And Harry, please bring Mr. Ron Weasley, Miss Ginny Weasley, and Miss Granger as well as Miss Robinson to the meeting. I think they may all have some insight into the discussion." His face cleared as though the subject was dropped completely. "All right, Harry, if you go downstairs now you will meet your friends as they head down to breakfast. I think perhaps that you should not mention the subject of the meeting to any of them beforehand. It might cause concern and worry when today should be a day of happiness." Harry left the office quickly and stepped onto the slowly spiraling staircase, exiting through the door behind the gargoyle. He crossed the hall quickly, descending the stairs to the entryway where, just as he knew he would, he found Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Cassie all heading into the Great Hall for breakfast. They smiled up at him and Harry smiled back. His stomach growled and Harry thought how pleasant it would be to eat a breakfast he had not had to cook. Just as he reached the bottom step, though, his pleasant mood was spoiled as he heard a familiar drawling voice echo through the room.

"So, it's true. I heard the portraits but thought they were confused. But it's true. The great Potty, Saint Potter, has learned how to rise from the dead!"