Chapter Thirty Three: The Day

The following morning, waking in his dorm, Harry knew that he had something more to take care of before breakfast.

Dressing quickly, he headed out of the dorm, leaving the others snoring behind him, and sprinted down the stairs, through the Common Room, out the portrait hole, and on to the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

Where the gargoyle once more moved aside without bidding.

I have to ask Dumbledore about that... he thought, before sprinting up the stairs and into Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, Harry... I've been expecting you..." the elderly headmaster smiled.

"It's ready?"

"Yes... now..."

"Who...?"

"Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, who are both early risers, have agreed to assist us. You are ready?"

"Yes," Harry sat across from Dumbledore, who in turn, handed him a piece of parchment. Harry quickly read it over.

"It is as you wished?"

"Yes... thank you..."

"Ah..." Dumbledore looked up as the door opened and two others came through. "Professors... thank you for coming so early."

"Do not mention it, Albus... Good morning, Mr Potter," Minerva McGonagall nodded.

"Good morning, Professor. Good morning, Professor Sprout..."

"Yes, yes... now, Albus...?"

"Yes... just... Harry... if you would sign right here, Pomona... Minerva... yes," Dumbledore took the parchment and fanned it for a moment. "And that is all."

"It's... legal? As of now?"

"As of the moment Professor McGonagall's signature was completed, Harry."

"And you'll..."

"I will see to it that your wishes are... carried out, Harry. In my stead..."

Harry's eyes clouded. Chances were that Dumbledore would be with him in battle, and could just as easily fall with him.

"... in my stead, should it be required, my representative at Gringotts, who is in charge of all of my own legal affairs, will take responsibility for the direction of your estate."

And Harry, having just signed his last will and testament, nodded, thanked the others, and turned to leave.

Suddenly, he turned back. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I meant to ask you... the gargoyle...?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I made some promises at the end of your fifth year, Harry... it is best that I am always accessible, should you need me."

Harry nodded, and saying nothing, left.


He met the others in the Room of Requirement just before classes. Ginny came in, looking curiously at him, and headed over to the small table where breakfast pastries were waiting for them. They never ate breakfast or lunch in the Great Hall any longer. They couldn't rely on being left alone.

"Where were you?"

"Here," he said, taking a muffin that she held out to him, and leaning down to kiss her lightly.

"You were up early," she commented, sitting down at one of the tables and nibbling at her breakfast.

"I had to talk to Dumbledore."

"About?"

"About the future," he smiled at her. For once, he actually felt optimistic that there might be a future.

Ginny looked strangely at him, but didn't comment, and at that moment, Remus arrived for their DADA lesson.

They worked well together. Remus even commented on it after class.

"You've learned a lot. You fight well together as a group. But don't let that take away from your abilities to duel independently. You never know when you'll be... caught alone."

He didn't elaborate, but they all knew what he meant. There was every chance that any one of them might be the last person standing against an army of Death Eaters... fighting for their life.

"Professor..." Blaise glanced around the room. "I was wondering... how does one go about getting a second wand?"

Remus' eyebrows rose.

"Mr Zambini, I'm sure that you're aware, but I will remind you. It is a Ministry offence to carry a second wand."

Harry looked at Remus, surprised. He hadn't known that. Unconsciously, he touched the wand in his left pocket. He always carried his wand in his right... he was right handed, and it was easy to access that way. The wand in his left pocket wasn't there as a wand... it was there as a reminder... of what could happen if one turned their back on the wizarding world.

Yew. Sixteen inches.

"But the aurors..."

"You're not an auror. Aurors have special priviledges based on their training," Remus looked around. "Should any of you choose to pursue that training officially... then you will be licensed to carry a second wand. Until then..."

"Are you licensed?" Ron asked.

Remus turned to him, silent.

"We..." Ron began, turning pink.

"No secrets here, Remus," Harry said softly.

"No, Mr Weasley, I am not a licensed Auror."

"But..."

"I took the training. Unfortunately, a week before we were to receive our... credentials... it was discovered by the Ministry that I have a... debilitation."

"Debilitation?" Susan Bones looked oddly at him. "What kind of debilitation could keep you from being an Auror, yet still teach DADA?"

"Well..." Remus glanced at Harry, then sighed, looking around the room. "It was frowned upon... having a dark creature in the Auror ranks."

"But..." Terry Boot began, then flushed. "So the rumors were true?"

"Yes, Mr Boot. The rumors that caused me to resign my position as DADA teacher after your third year were, indeed, true. I suffer from Lycanthropy. I am a werewolf."

There was a moment of silence around the room, broken only when Ron scoffed.

"Which is a bloody awful reason for keeping you from becoming an Auror," he said. "I've seen you in action..."

"What?" Terry Boot again.

"At... at the end of our fifth year... in the Department of Mysteries," Ron swallowed. "Remus was there."

"I agree, Mr Weasley," Remus smiled gently. "That it is a bloody awful reason to keep someone from being what they wish to be. But do not fool yourself. The world you are inheriting has many injustices... that is one of the lesser ones. My generation has faith that yours will change some of those injustices... and the generation after will change more. Perhaps, someday, we will end up with a world we can all be happy in."

At lunch, for some inexplicable reason, Harry felt the need to be home... at Potter Manor. With this in mind, he turned the Room of Requirement into the Quidditch Pitch beside the lake, and laid back on the warm grass, Ginny sitting next to him plucking grass and tossing it in the breeze.

"Where is this?" Seamus turned around, looking at the manor house some two hundred yards away, and the two smaller homes... the stables, and the thatched cottages in the distance.

"This is my home," Harry said.

"I thought you grew up in Surrey?" Blaise Zambini asked, looking around. "This isn't Surrey."

"No," Harry smiled, his eyes closed, the sun warm on his face. "It's Cornwall."

"Where is this?"

"My father's home... my ancestral home. Potter Manor."

"Potter...?" Blaise looked at him. "Malfoy told us you were a mudblood."

"Really?" Harry laughed. "Well, Malfoy was wrong."

"You... you're a pureblood?"

"Oddly enough, no. I'm not. My great grandmother was a muggle. So therefore, despite it being back that many generations... I'm still considered a half-blood."

"But..." Blaise looked around. "How...?"

"You know, Zambini..." Harry sat up, looking around with interest until the picnic baskets appeared. "There are successful muggles, as well... they don't all live in squalor, and some people... some wizards... even choose that way of life."

"What?" Blaise's shock showed openly on his face.

"They're called Abiciludum," Hermione said quietly, smiling gently at Harry, her pride showing in her eyes. "Harry's aunt is one. She turned her back on the magical world... by choice."

The others were silent, wondering why, how, someone could do something like that.

"But why would she do something like that?" Susan Bones asked. "Why would anyone?"

"The reason most people do most things, in the end," Harry said quietly. "Love. In one form or another... it's always because of love."


Harry and Ginny took a walk around the lake after they finished their lunch, holding hands and largely silent until Ginny paused, looking across the, admittedly small, lake at the others still lounging there.

"It amazes me," she said.

"What?"

"That the Room of Requirement is capable of this."

Harry nodded. "I know. Feels odd, doesn't it? I mean... I feel like we're walking around the lake at home... but in reality..."

"Home?"

"Yes," he nodded. "It feels like home now. It didn't at first. I can remember the first time I saw it thinking that it didnt' have anything on the Burrow..."

Ginny snorted.

"But... it's mine. You know?"

"Yes. It's nice to have something of your own."

"Yes," Harry looked down at her. "It is."


After dinner that evening, Harry felt the need to be alone. He kissed Ginny on the forehead and told her he was going outside for a while.

"Want me to come?" she asked.

"Nope... I'm fine. Just want some air," he smiled.

Ginny nodded and turned back to the book on Occlumency that Harry had loaned her. "I'll be here if you need me."

He walked for what seemed like hours. Thinking. Thinking of Aunt Petunia and Dudley, and how they would cope, and knowing that it was no longer his problem. Thinking of Remus and Tonks, and hoping... almost against hope... that that would work out. Remus deserved some happiness but, if possible, pushed people away even harder than Harry had.

And about his Aunt Daisy. She had looked so much like his mother... he had wanted her to be so badly...

He made his way back to the castle, towards the front doors, and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air. It was warm during the day, but the evenings were still quite cool... and damp. It was always damp here.

As he turned to the doors, he was startled by the image before him. It couldn't... she couldn't possibly be here... could she?

"Aunt Daisy... what are you doing here?" he asked, looking at her. She didn't glow... she was corporeal... as solid as he, but she had lost her glow. Her red hair fell about her shoulders, and she'd been running... he could tell by the hem of her robes, they were tattered, and and blackened with mud. She was breathing heavily.

"I am needed here," she said between breaths.

"But... I thought..."

"You thought wrong, Harry. I have been... summoned. Imust stay until the end."

"The end?"

"He approaches... you must go now... gather your friends. Gather the Twelve... I will do what I can."

"But..."

"Harry... go! There is nothing you can do here for the moment, and there will be nothing at all you can do here if you do not have your friends by your side!"

Harry, suddenly realizing what she was telling him, turned, heading towards the main doors.

"And Harry?" she called.

"Yes, Aunt Daisy?" he turned, his hand on the wrought iron handle of the door. She stood there, her long hair blowing about her shoulders, her green eyes flickering, the rose in her cheeks nearly gone. Her face was pale, but determined. He might almost be able to believe that she was his mother, looking like this.

But, no. She wasn't. She was Daisy, and very, very different from Lily. As different from both of her sisters as it was possible to be.

"I would have loved you, Harry," she said softly. "If I could have... If my fate had allowed me a different path... I would have loved you."

Harry stared at her, silent and motionless. He could feel the emotion welling up in his throat.

She was his aunt, and she would have loved him.

"Go," she said shortly, turning back to the darkness, apparently seeing something there that he could not. He turned, and ran.


It seemed as though something had called to them all. As Harry entered through the front doors, he turned, to see the others approaching from the Great Staircase, and Dumbledore striding through from the Great Hall.

"Dumbledore! He's coming... they're coming!"

"Harry?" Dumbledore stiffened as he took in what the young wizard was saying.

"Harry?" Ginny slid up next to him, pressing her hand into his. "I'm here."

"We all are, Harry," Ron said from behind them.

"The Weasleys... and the Order. They must be made aware..." Dumbledore began.

"There's no time," Harry said. "Voldemort... it's time," Harry said the fateful words. "Daisy... Aunt Daisy came from the forest... she's left her portal, Professor. She can't go back... but she came to warn us... and to fight. She said she'd do what she could... but we don't have long."

Dumbledore's eyes looked panicked for a moment, and then he looked into the deep green eyes of James' Potter's son. The child he had sworn to see to this point, to see trained to face this...

And knew that, no matter how much time he were given, it would never have been enough.