Chapter six: An Uninvited Guest

Harry woke just after four in the morning, and quickly decided that further sleep would be unlikely. Throwing on his robes, he decided to head down to the kitchens and see if one of the house elves would be able to garner him a cup of coffee to start what passed for morning.

However, on the way his train of thought was derailed by a slight sensation, almost like the brush of a feather, across his scar. Clearly, Troy had finally returned from wherever he had disappeared to, and Harry decided to clear the air with the half-demon man. The tingle led him to the North Tower, where in the waning moonlight, he saw Troy perched on the edge of the palisade, looking out into the horizon.

"Just get back?" Harry asked softly, so as not to startle Troy right off the ledge.

"About an hour ago." He answered. "I take it Albus told you everything about me."

Harry nodded. "He did. Rather silly to be all worried now that I know everything. I've been taught better than that."

"I wasn't insulted, if that's what you're worried about." Troy replied. "You and your friends actually took it quite well. Even Miss Fitzsimmons… I've seen great men several times her age cower in my presence."

Harry laughed. "I asked her after… well, you know… what possessed her to cast a light spell. She quite smugly replied that your eyes reminded her of what she had read in some of her Muggle fantasy books, and that 'light really is just another type of heat, after all'."

Troy chortled, "That doesn't surprise me. Muggles might not live in a magical world, but they do have their advantages. I dare say that there are parts of the Muggle world that are superior to this one; one of them being the pursuit of learning how and why things work the way they do."

"I assume you frequent the Muggle side of life, then?" Harry asked, taking a place just behind and to the right of the black clothed man.

Troy nodded, "I'm just Troy Ailona there. Granted, I have a bizarre eye condition that renders me very sensitive to light, but I'm perfectly normal in every other regard. No questions, no fear, a couple odd stares from strangers, but quickly dismissed soon after."

Harry laughed, "Sounds like an idea I could use."

"Get tired of being the famous Harry Potter every so often?"

"A little more than every so often, actually… I'd wager at least once per day I wish I could just disappear." Harry sighed wistfully, "Especially since people have lately been recognizing me for something I particularly don't want to be remembered for."

Troy finally turned to face Harry, his red eyes passive. "From what I heard about Voldemort, he had it coming."

"I won't argue with that… I just don't like being attached to the stigma of a killer."

Troy's eyes narrowed visibly. "I'm afraid you won't get much sympathy from me."

"At least you have a reason." Harry amended. "I just did it because I wanted to. You understand me? I wanted Voldemort dead, and I was going to make sure I did it, and did it good. Clearly we all have that dark side to ourselves… but I'm being routinely connected to that alter ego. How do you manage that without going mad?"

"I'm not sure I can help you in that regard." Troy said with a shake of his head. "The people who know me for what I am know enough about me to distance my demonic heritage from the person I am trying to be."

"Oh." Harry answered then added earnestly, "Well, I do suspect we have more in common than you'd think. After all, we both have sides to themselves that we'd rather not acknowledge, and wish never existed, right?"

Troy's eyes softened, and he replied in partial agreement, "Sure."

"Will you join us for the Christmas celebration? Or are you… well… not hungry?"

"I do eat normal food, if that's what you're getting at." Troy said with a roll of his eyes. "And… I'll think about it."

"Good. Because I suspect that there are those of us in this world who will accept you for what you are, without the need of ignorance." Harry placed his hand on Troy's shoulder before finishing, "But you need to give us a chance."

With a gentle, friendly pat, Harry stepped away, and retreated to the castle interior to be ready for the children who were no doubt already beginning to awaken in anticipation of the coming day.

Harry knew he was supposed to be an adult, but there still was an excitement about Christmas morning that he had never been able to entirely banish. Thus, he wasn't nearly as upset with the younger students (and even some of the older ones) when they began bustling about at 6:30 in the morning, mulling about and eventually stirring the entire school to alertness, as some of the older professors had been.

The Great Hall, which never seemed crammed even when the entire student body was present for a meal, felt slightly cramped with the mass of presents and other goodies as the students charged towards the trees set up for each of their respective houses. Harry noticed that there was already a fair deal of bustle around the Gryffindor tree, and thus wandered in that direction.

From the confusion, Julie emerged with a flat, yet reasonably thick present that he recognized. She dashed over to Harry, and gave his waist a tight hug. "Thank you, Professor Potter! Thank you very much!"

Harry laughed, and replied, "You don't even know what it is yet."

"But it's from you, so I know it will be good!"

"Well, I'm flattered in your confidence in me, but why don't you open it anyway?"

Julie nodded, and with a youthful vigor, ripped the entire front of the wrapping paper away with one almost violent swipe. She gasped in delight as the cover of Quiddich for the Ages was exposed, and she once again hugged Harry.

"Julie… Julie… there's more. Why don't you check the bookmark I gave you?"

Curiously, she slowly flipped open the front cover, and her jaw dropped in amazement. Inside was a gift certificate for one thousand galleons towards the purchase of a broom.

"First years are generally not allowed to have brooms, but there's nothing against the rules against have the means to purchase one." Harry explained. "I suspect you'll be able to garner a pretty impressive tool over the summer with that."

Another voiceless hug was his reward, and he responded with a somewhat sheepish rub on the top of her head.

"I see someone likes her present." Hermione quipped from behind him.

"I rather figured she would." Harry replied, looking down on Julie with a broad smile. "Now why don't you go find some of your other presents?"

Julie shook her head violently, "I know what Professor Granger wants, and I want to be there when we all give it to you."

"It was her idea, you see." Hermione said. "We all pitched in a little, even Professor Snape." Hermione jerked a thumb over to the Head of Slytherin House, who was glumly looking over the proceedings from one of the tables reserved for the Christmas breakfast that would take part after all the gift giving.

Harry suddenly felt a strong compulsion to have a long discussion with the Potions professor, but there was a stronger compulsion pulling him towards where the other professors had gathered… or more precisely, two compulsions, one latched on to each arm, and tugging insistently on his robes.

Deciding that further resistance would soon require the mending of garments, Harry allowed Hermione and Julie to guide him towards where the Headmaster's table usually sat, but in this case was replaced by a massive specimen of white pine, it's needles flashing yellow, red, green, and blue at random intervals.

Hermione pawed through the pile of presents under the tree, disappearing up to her shoulders in the mass of gifts. Ron stifled a giggle as she continued to rummage, which earned him a scathing glare from the woman in question before she dove back in. With a triumphant, "Aha!" Hermione squirmed out from under the tree, bearing a wrapped gift that looked suspiciously like a broom.

"I know it's pretty obvious what it is…" Hermione said with an embarrassed shrug after handing off to Harry. "It just arrived about an hour ago… those things are on such insane backorder, and finalizing the sale was a bear."

"I had to pull quite a few strings to get my team owner to push the order through… and I had to sign another year extension to my contract to get him to do so." Ron explained, and seeing Harry's almost shocked disbelief, added, "No worries, I was going to sign an extension anyway, of course, that'll be our little secret, okay?" He then elbowed Harry in the ribs conspiratorially and winked.

His head swimming, Harry slowly unwrapped the bright silver wrapping starting from the top of the handle. With a sigh, Julie groaned, "Adults… they have no idea how to open a present…" She then grabbed the shimmering paper along the bristle end of the broom, and with a loud ripping sound, tore the bottom third of the paper away.

With a smile, Harry joined Julie in her efforts, ripping and tearing from the top until they met just above the middle of the handle. Harry went silent as his hand ran along the crimson painted handle, with the words "Firebolt 4500 Deluxe Editon: Professional Standard" etched in gold at the top.

"No… that thing must have cost…"

"47,000 galleons, if I remember correctly, Mr. Weasely?" Dumbledore asked, and seeing Ron's nod, continued, "Of course, due to Mr. Weasely's memorable sacrifice, the price was lowered considerably."

"I can't possibly accept this…"

"Of course you will." Hermione giggled. "Besides, I don't want to have to tell Troy that his charitable donation was rejected."

Harry's eyebrow rose quizzically. "Troy?"

"You see, after we pooled everything together, we were still roughly 5,000 galleons short, and Ron had already done his share in contributing and all."

Ron cut in, "I was willing to pay the remaining difference… but noooooo…"

"Hush!" Hermione snapped back. "Anyway, we started making little collections among the houses, discreetly of course. Even a few Slytherins chipped in. Professor Snape gave almost a hundred Galleons himself. Even with that, we only managed another thousand Galleons or so, and were in a right fit as to what to do. I was actually about to cave into Ron's request, when late last night, Troy pops in from wherever he had gone, and drops this heaping bag of gold in my lap."

"I still have no bloody idea where he got all that money." Ron said with an amazed whistle. "All he would tell us is that we'd be amazed the sort of loot you compile after saving the Western World a couple twenty times."

With that, Harry broke into a full toothed grin. "Well then, I better take it, just to appease the masses who signed away life and limb to get it here." He gingerly ran his hand once more along the handle as if afraid it would break.

"Well, did Professor Potter get a new toy?" Draco sneered from behind him. "You kill a few people, and you're so admired that they'll bend over backwards for you. Funny how that worked for You-Know-Who as well…"

Harry suddenly felt like someone had just ripped his heart out… leaving a gaping emptiness behind. In his own twisted way, Draco was right. What had separated Harry from Voldemort in those minutes that Harry became a murderer? Sure, he had been given many reasons from his friends, but deep down, Harry had rejected all of them.

He had been protecting his friends… perhaps to an extent, but there was little doubt after the third Killing Curse that Voldemort had been in no condition to do anything to anyone.

It had been for the good of the world… Once again, there had been no reason for Harry to go to such an extreme. He wanted Voldemort to suffer… to hurt more than any person ever had… but more importantly, Harry had wanted the satisfaction of the suffering to come from his own hands.

He had been understandably angry… That had been it, but it had hardly been an excuse. Harry had come to the conclusion that rather than Voldemort was indeed his opposite, but not in the way that Dumbledore had always surmised. Harry and Voldemort had been two sides of the same coin, the power of their emotions driving them… Harry's had been love for his friends and for the life he had come into… Voldemort's had been his hatred of all those things, and what they stood for. And for roughly five horrifying minutes… Harry had been everything Voldemort had been.

Harry's introspective was interrupted by the tingling of his scar, and Troy's voice coming from behind Draco. "If you're looking for trouble, Mr. Malfoy… why don't you just step outside and I'll give you all the trouble you could ever possibly want." The cambion growled, his face twisted in a threatening grimace.

Not surprisingly, Draco slightly cowered from the half-demon, and slowly slinked away towards the Slytherin tables where he suspected he would find support. Troy shook his head, glaring at the retreating form. "You know, when a man with demonic blood through his veins can find more merriment in the holiday season than someone… that person is living a truly empty life indeed."

He turned a nervous eye towards the gathering, and was suddenly nervous, rubbing the back of his head. "Quite a festive scene you've concocted, Albus. I… guess I wanted to see what all the fuss down here was about."

"You're more than welcome to join us, Troy." Harry affirmed. "It's going to be a bit before the food comes out, though."

"Should have told us you were coming." Ron said sheepishly. "We would have had a present for you too."

Troy waved it off, "It's hardly necessary."

"Nonsense. Everyone should have something for Christmas." Ron protested.

"And I repeat, it's hardly…" Troy began then looked down when he felt someone tugging on his trenchcoat. "Oh, hello, Miss Fitzsimmons."

"This is for you." Julie said, holding up a small rectangular box wrapped in a red and green striped paper and topped with a golden flower bow and ribbon. "When I learned that you had a hard time seeing in bright light, I had Professor Flitwick help me."

Inquisitively, Troy split the paper with one fingernail, and popped open the top of the black felt box. With his free hand, he gingerly removed a pair of black rimmed wrap around sunglasses with lenses almost as black as the frame.

"It has an adjustable darkening enchantment to suit you in just about any lighting, and it contains a physical binding so that they won't fall off by accident."

With a humored grin, Troy replaced his eyewear with his new ones. His features suddenly smoothed, and Harry came to conclusion that Troy had likely been squinting the entire time. "Impressive. Most magical items are worthless to me… their enchantments tend not to have any effect whatsoever."

"Flitwick said that's just because most enchantments aren't cast with your kind in mind." Julie said with a shrug. "I'm glad it helps."

Harry took the opportunity of having everyone's attention away from him to sneak away from the gathering, and made a slow, deliberate path to where Snape was somewhat forlornly sitting by himself at one of the farthest tables from the action.

If Snape knew Harry was approaching before the younger wizard dropped down onto the bench across from him, he didn't show it. Snape didn't even acknowledge Harry's existence for another five seconds before he asked somewhat dourly, "What?"

Harry gave a lopsided grin, and said, "I guess I need to thank you. A hundred galleons is quite a sum, especially on a professor's salary."

"It's not like I had anything else to spend it on… nor, I will admit, was it your fault some vengeful Dark Lord pretender decided to destroy your broom."

Finally, Harry asked one question that had been nagging at him for a while. "Tell me about my father."

Snape eyed his colleague warily, as if waiting for some sort of trap. "I suspect there is a plethora of other people who were closer to him than I."

"Not necessarily." Harry answered. "I come to realize that there are many facets to every person. I've already heard plenty about the wondrous virtues my father had, but I know that he showed you a very different side of himself."

"I was not his friend, Potter." Snape warned. "I suspect you'd be quite insulted to hear what I have to say about him."

"I'm not my father, Severus."

Snape frowned at the use of his given name, but then said, "No… you are not. Very well, but do not say I didn't warn you…"

Snape's monologue of thinly veiled disgust ended roughly ten minutes later. In that time, James Potter, the braggart and bully, were clearly etched in Harry's mind, no longer just vaguely passed over quirks in other people's recollections.

"Well, if it is any consolation, I apologize. No one should be treated like that… regardless of who they are." Harry said.

"It's not. As you so well put it, you are not your father." Snape grunted. "Well, I hope I've eased your mind. Your father was hardly the perfect hero… nor was your mother, for that matter… you don't have to be either."

"So… was it that obvious what I was looking for?" Harry sighed.

Snape huffed. "I have a confession to make. I envied your father… just as I envied you. You had fame, wealth, and happiness… and I wanted it. But… I was just fooling myself, it appears."

"How so?"

"You may have fame… that much is clear. You might even have wealth… I know your parents left you a king's ransom. But happiness… perhaps it is still just as elusive for you as it is for someone like me. Now, I don't believe for one second that you'd really trade your life for mine… but maybe you don't have it as well as I had thought."

"And you don't have it as well as you should." Harry answered. "You deserve better for what you have done."

"My actions to help fell Voldemort was merely penance for earlier sins." Snape denied. "But I suppose it is nice for you to say so." Snape then scowled. "I suggest you get out of here. I have a reputation to keep."

Suddenly Snape jumped to his feet, and bellowed. "I've had enough of your prattling! That obnoxious Granger friend of yours badgered me until I finally gave her some coins to go away! Nothing more!"

Harry pulled away in mock exasperation, but nonetheless, the two professors shared one brief meeting of eyes that implied that perhaps things had changed between them… and finally for the better.

When he returned to his friends, Ron asked, "What the bloody hell was that all about? You were gone for a while."

Harry smirked. "Let's just say, Snape and I have come to an understanding."

"If that's the case… I don't ever want to understand him one bit."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Where did Hermione go?" He suddenly asked.

Ron jerked a thumb over to the northwest corner "She just drug Troy over there about a second ago. Why do you ask?"

"I need to thank her for putting everything together for me." Harry replied then pulled one blue wrapped package out from under the tree. "Besides, you and I still have to give her our present."

Ron slapped his forehead, "Of course! Well, lead on then."

They began to move quickly towards their friend, who had her back to them and was shuffling her feet timidly. Thus, she didn't even know they were there as they closed to within feet of her.

Meanwhile, Troy said with mild frustration, "So, are you going to ask me your question, or are you just going to stammer incoherently until the feast starts?"

"This is hard… okay?" Hermione replied. "I… just… I understand you can read minds."

"Somewhat." Troy answered. "Depends on how profound the thought is. Why do you ask?"

"How profound does the thought need to be before you pick up on it?"

Troy shrugged. "There's no solid line of demarcation that I can tell."

With another deep breath, Hermione finally asked, "How many of my thoughts have you read?"

With a knowing grin, Troy replied, "Ah… now I see." His face then shifted upwards, looking directly at Harry and Ron. With a playful tone, he said, "Fear not. He won't find out about it from me."

"Oh no…" Hermione groaned in despair. "Am I that obvious?"

"Obvious about what, Hermy?" Ron quipped.

Hermione froze in complete terror. She slowly turned around, and met Harry's and Ron's eyes as they looked down on her expectantly. Her face turned almost as red as a beet, and she started to wring her hands guiltily, her eyes darting back and forth between Harry and Ron like she was a mouse surrounded by hungry cats.

Any words she might have uttered were quickly forgotten when they all noticed Troy's head suddenly jerk towards the main door to the Great Hall, less than a second before it was slammed open like it had been hit by a hurricane.

The hall died to an eerie silence as a figure cloaked completely in black took leisurely strides down the aisleway, and Harry instantly recognized the blood red eye etched on the back once the figure had passed. Clearly so did his friends, because Hermione gasped, and Ron made a sound somewhere between a cough and a cat hacking up a hairball.

"Merry Christmas, Albus Dumbledore!" The figure said with mocking cheer, outstretching his or her arms for maximum effect. "Best of the holidays to all the denizens of Hogwarts!"

"How…?" Dumbledore gaped. "You could not have gotten through the…"

"Come now, Mr. Dumbledore." The figure chided. "Surely I have demonstrated that there is no place beyond my reach… my hand reaches further than even my 'mentor'…" The figure suddenly seemed thoughtful. "Yes, perhaps it is time I abandon this title of 'Disciple'… and make my own name." With that declaration, the figure tossed back the hood and white mask covering his face.

Even Draco looked like he had been slugged in the gut. "Father… how…?"

Funny, that was similar to the question on Harry's mind…

"Hidden under cloak and cowl for five years… waiting for my chance… it has at last come. I am more than any dark wizard ever before. I am more than even death itself…"

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he said, "Funny… Voldemort thought the same thing…"

Lucius laughed spitefully as he slowly turned to face Harry. "That mudblood? Like all weak pathetic muggles, he couldn't and wouldn't embrace everything around him. I, on the other hand, have fully accepted the gift and power I knew he would be unable to use properly. To think he actually thought he controlled his destiny… he was nothing but a pawn… a pawn to an even greater power… the Order of the Crimson Eye!" Once again, he threw his arms open in a grandiose manner.

"As boorish and as arrogant as ever." Hermione growled, her hand tensing against her wand in her pocket, ready to attack the instant he made any threatening move.

Lucius's eyes shifted to her, and his lips curled into a sickening leer. "And you still have yet to learn your place, mudblood filth. The Order of the Crimson Eye is all that is truly significant in this world… we are the ultimate power that none can resist!"

The wizard casually lifted his wand, but before he had even brought it to a ready position, Troy launched into action. Harry had only been clued by the rush of wind as the cambion flashed by, and closed the distance with a speed that even surprised Lucius. With one punch, Troy connected with lethal force, literally punching through the dark wizards' form, his fist bulging the back of Lucius's robes with the sickening crack of bone and ripping of flesh.

Yet, Lucius looked down at the wound, as if amused. With a casual tone, he said, "Yes… the demon spawn. Let me assure you that the Crimson Eye has something special planned just for you…"

Soon after finishing that statement, Lucius disintegrated, leaving nothing but a sandy substance where he had once been. Troy clenched his extended fist a couple times, as if trying to grasp something only he could see, small grains of the sand falling from his hand as he did so.

"Well, that was… informative." Ron remarked, jolting everyone from the awkward silence that had filled the hall. "At least we know who's after you now, Harry."

Harry's eyes turned toward Draco, trying to gauge the young Malfoy's reaction. Draco appeared genuinely surprised, absentmindedly fiddling with the glowing pendant on his chest, suggesting that he had no foreknowledge of his father's plans.

Harry had not entirely shared in the stunning revelation. Deep down, he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop regarding Lucius Malfoy. Ever since Lucius had disappeared, eluding capture as Harry's attention had been drawn towards Voldemort, Harry had figured that Lucius had been planning something.

Dumbledore stood slowly, and for the first time that Harry could ever recall, Albus looked fundamentally shaken. It seemed like it took the Headmaster great effort to recover his voice, but admirably managed to sound unperturbed. "Children, I suspect that the feast will begin shortly, and I still see a few neglected presents underneath various trees. Miss McGonagall, Mr. Flitwick, may you watch over things for a few minutes?"

Quietly, Harry watched Dumbledore turn to Snape and say something. Snape nodded, then stood, and took step behind the Headmaster. Troy then took step, still looking down inquisitively at his hand, and finally, Dumbledore motioned at Harry, Ron, and Hermione as he passed.

It was a solemn procession towards the privacy of Dumbledore's office, even Peeves giving them a wide berth once Dumbledore made it painfully clear with nothing but his eyes that now was not the time for pranks.

Once their destination was reached, the headmaster took great pains to make sure that all the protections in the room were in place, understandably concerned that Lucius had decided to look around before making his presence known.

Apparently satisfied, Dumbledore made one last check of the stairwell, again closed off from the lobby then said, "I assume you reached the same conclusion I did, Troy?"

Troy nodded. "Lucius Malfoy has transformed himself into the one existence on this mortal coil that I cannot defeat through sheer force."

"Meaning…?" Ron interceded.

Snape sighed disparagingly, and replied, "Lucius Malfoy has become a lich."

"Wizards who wish to surrender their souls to remain on this world can in effect fuse themselves into an existence somewhere between life and death." Hermione explained before Ron could ask. "Their bodies are no longer living in the natural sense… but they're clearly not dead."

"The practice of forging undead is a branch of necromancy that even most Dark Wizards shy away from due to its unreliable nature and potential for disaster. Of the undead, a lich is by far the worst, as the mystical powers that fueled the wizard in life are largely boundless once the limits of their flesh are removed." Troy added. "You yourself battled a partial-lich, Harry, whenever you matched wits with Voldemort."

"A partial-lich?" Harry asked. His Auror studies were proving quite lacking in this field of discussion.

"From what I can discern, Voldemort performed some of the procedures to become a lich, but not all of them. Thus he had some of the protections on his body and soul like a lich, but without quite as much power that would have come in his full form."

"Then why stop?" Ron queried, "Voldemort valued power after all else, after all."

"Incorrect." Troy responded, "He valued his own life over power, and while becoming a full lich would have given him power far greater than anything on this mortal coil, it would have also given him a great weakness as well… a weakness that would render all his power moot if discovered."

For a brief moment, Harry allowed himself a shred of reined hope. "And that weakness would be?"

Again, Hermione inserted herself into the conversation. "As I said earlier, to become a lich, a wizard must surrender his soul from his body. That life-force is then forged into an artifact called a phylactery. If you destroy the phylactery, you destroy the lich."

"Well, that sounds simple enough." Ron remarked warily. "Too simple, actually."

"It's not simple." Troy acknowledged. "Lichs rarely carry their phylacteries on them. They're usually very well hidden, out of sight and mind, perhaps even to the lich itself."

"I am curious as to how our 'caretaker' is so learned in the ways of lichs, especially when most dark practitioners are even uncertain as to what makes them what they are." Snape said softly.

"Let's just say around November of the year 1917 in 'Mother Russia', I happened across a lich that I very nearly didn't survive meeting. When said lich was finally destroyed… his notes were uncovered. I took great effort to learn from them in order to prevent a repeat of my first encounter."

Hermione's eyes bulged in amazement. "You fought… Rasputin? Incredible, so few ever lived to tell the tale of crossing his path that so little is truly known about him."

"When we have dealt with this current problem, I'll willingly subject myself to whatever curiosities you may have." Troy said then added thoughtfully. "Perhaps that old journal could even be of help to us now. There were portions of his notes that contained arcane lore that even to this day I likely do not understand… but perhaps some of you would. The more we know about the type of monster we're dealing with, the better."

"Agreed." Dumbledore replied, "Meanwhile, while there is much we do not know about the Order of the Crimson Eye, we can still learn as much as we can about the forces that are aligned with it."

"What about the students?" Hermione asked.

"I am going to appeal to Minister Fudge to allow me to cancel the remaining year." Dumbledore said reluctantly. "Malfoy has demonstrated that Hogwart's is not as safe as I had initially thought it was."

"Then I'll leave." Harry answered. "I'm the one he's after."

Dumbledore shook his head. "That would not be prudent. Perhaps he is out to end your life. But, now knowing the face of our enemy, I am completely certain that Hogwart's itself will be a target of his wrath. I will need all the allies I can muster in its defense. Meanwhile, I will do what I can to keep my students out of harm's way."

"So, I take it our plan of action is in place?" Troy remarked. "Well, then I suggest the rest of you try and at least pretend to enjoy the rest of day for the students remaining here, while I get to work. I'm not sure how long it will take me to convince my superiors to release Rasputin's journal… but I will return with as much haste as I can manage."

"I wish you a quick journey. Now, I ask the rest of you to take over for McGonagall and Flitwick, and send them up to speak with me. There is much we have to do, and not much time to do it in."