DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Harry felt his feet land hard on the floor and he struggled to stay standing. He was at Privet Drive. He wasn't in some cramped closet. Everything seemed to go okay, apart from the fact that he was quite close to the front door and facing it.
He heard screaming.
Before he had even looked around the room he had his wand out. When he whirled around to aim his wand at the source of the noise, it stopped abruptly.
Petunia stood in front of Ginny, pale and trembling with her mouth open in a now silenced scream. Vernon was nearby with a lamp raised above his head as if he were ready to strike Ginny with it.
"They started yelling the second I showed up," said Ginny angrily. "If they keep it up someone will get suspicious."
"Put it down!" Harry shouted as he turned his uncle. Vernon slowly lowered the lamp, though the scowl on his face remained. Harry lowered his wand, and Ginny did the same. "We're not here to attack you. Leave her alone, and she'll be gone in a moment."
"I won't put up with this!" Vernon howled. "Get OUT!"
"Go on," Harry told Ginny. "They can't hurt me. I need to talk to the Aurors and you need to get back."
Ginny took one last opportunity to glare at the Dursley's before she put her wand back in her pocket. "Goodbye Harry, I'll see you soon," she said and then vanished.
Petunia made a sound like a gasp and a squeak and then collapsed in a nearby chair with her head in her hands. Vernon simply stood with his hands clenched. Harry placed his box of gifts by the stairs and draped his robe over it. He could see Dudley's pudgy face looking at the box from under a small table.
Wearing only his Muggle clothing now, he opened the door. "I'm going out for a bit," he told his uncle. The fact that he simply stated it instead of asking didn't seem to cheer Vernon up at all. "And tell Dudley that he'd best not touch that box. I have no idea what it will do to him." He heard a frightened squeal from Dudley as he closed the door.
For once he walked directly out to the Aurors, in full sight and without any attempt to disguise himself. The Aurors seemed to understand something important had happened.
Harry told them what he'd seen. They had both paled on hearing that the Dementors were preparing to attack and Clarence Stafford Disapparated (as Harry expected him to) as soon as he heard everything Harry had to say. Harry didn't stick around for Clarence to return, but as he paced about his room, he checked to see that he had.
Harry didn't know what to do. He found that he hated waiting for the dream more than the dream itself. He looked out his window, and watched as two people who must have been Aurors walked up to his "guards" and seemed to strike up a friendly conversation before walking off. Stafford and Montnor looked alarmed when they noticed him looking out his window, but Harry quickly shook his head. He still hadn't seen anything.
Somewhere out there, a number of Dementors were headed somewhere. It was probably the house of some family, whose father or grandfather had somehow angered or annoyed Voldemort in some small fashion. They didn't know what was coming, but Harry did. The Order was out there as well, but Harry had to remain here, waiting for his top box seat to whatever horrors Voldemort had planned.
He knew he had to find some way to pass the time. He was going spare here just pacing his room and waiting to see Voldemort's snakelike face poking through whatever wall he might be looking at. He finally decided that only reading Potions of Power would fit his current mood. Perhaps the thought of a year of class with Snape would dull the paranoia in his head.
He layed down on his bed with the large Potions text in front of him. With a determined sigh, he opened it to where he had last left off. It really wasn't all that interesting, and he wasn't looking forward to the day when he'd face Snape in class, but this was perhaps better than simply waiting for news of the Dementors.
Harry read silently and diligently. He focused mostly on staying awake, and scolded himself when his head would nod drowsily. At times he would turn back and reread pages, realizing that he didn't remember reading them the first time. He was very close to sleep, but no dreams were coming to him.
Voldemort was out there. Harry began to wonder if by forcing himself to stay awake was preventing the visions from happening, then he struggled to decide whether that was a good thing. Part of him dearly wished that he didn't have the link with Voldemort that allowed these things to happen, yet he also knew that it might be the only advantage the Order had against Voldemort.
He turned back to his book, but had trouble focusing on the words. He must have taken his glasses off. He reached to his eyes, but found his glasses right where he expected them. The whole world was going blurry. He searched for his wand, but it was not where he expected it.
The Mirror his mind shouted, though Harry didn't know why.
Harry thought heard muffled shouting. It must be coming from outside. He tried to get to his window, but found that he couldn't determine just where his window was. It didn't matter; the voices were growing louder. His hearing seemed to actually be getting better.
"Patrick! Run! Tell the Ministry!"
A sinister laugh filled Harry's mind. "Do you think they can save you? They barely believe I exist, and those who do are off hunting my Dementors."
Voldemort. Fear seized Harry for a moment, but then he felt the familiar detached but restrained feeling of one of his visions. He must have fallen asleep, and the vision had started so gradually that it caught him unaware.
"Crucio!!"
There was a man on the floor, screaming in agony. Voldemort was standing over him. Harry looked about trying to quickly assess the situation. There was a woman bound in a chair nearby with a small number of Death Eaters. More of them were running out the door into the night.
Voldemort broke the curse, and the man choked and gasped.
When the Death Eaters returned, Harry was shocked to find that they had not been chasing down a man, but a small boy, not quite old enough to go to Hogwarts. He was struggling against the two Death Eaters holding him.
The man on the floor was still struggling to breathe. How many curses had he taken before the vision had started? He saw the young boy. Harry could only assume it was his son by his reaction. The woman sitting nearby in the chair was shouting. "Coward! He's just a boy! Or are you afraid of fighting with honor?" Voldemort ignored her.
The man on the floor had recovered enough to push himself to his hands and knees. He was staring at Voldemort's feet and between gasping breaths, he choked out two words: "Albus...Dumbledore..."
Voldemort grimaced as if slapped. "Crucio!!" He only held the curse for a short time before kneeling down by the man's face.
"Dumbledore!" he said with disdain. "He couldn't even save the Longbottoms. He has at best slowed me down. He cannot stop me."
The woman said in a low voice, "Someone will."
"There is no one who can stand against me now," he said slowly.
"Harry Potter can," said a small but angry voice. The child had spoken up. Several of the Death Eaters around the boy laughed softly.
Voldemort turned to him. "Ah. Harry Potter," he sneered. "You are right, boy. Potter has stood up to me. And he has indeed defeated me —for a time." He stood up and pointed his wand at the woman in the chair. "Will the great Harry Potter save your mother?"
"He would if he were here! He can do anything!" the boy yelled.
Voldemort laughed. "I had once thought something similar. He did the impossible, after all. If one can accomplish the impossible anything else should be simple, but he couldn't save his Mudblood mother and he didn't even try to save the Diggory boy," he sneered. "Perhaps I'd overestimated his abilities. It was not him who defeated me, but a desperate act by his mother. He has only escaped me by luck and quick feet. He cannot run from me forever."
He turned again to the man on the floor. "But perhaps he will save the lot of you. Or at least, your child."
The man closed his eyes, and whispered, "Please, not my—"
"Crucio!!"
He was screaming and writhing in pain again.
"Call to him! Call to Harry Potter to save you from agony and madness!" Voldemort shouted as he broke the curse. The man gasped for air.
"Beg for him to save your child! Crucio!!" He laughed as the curse lit up the small room. "Cry out his name! Summon him here!"
The curse was broken again, and the man was trying to get his breath back. With a quiet raspy voice, he said "He...will defeat you... He must..."
"Then call him here!" Voldemort yelled with a laugh. "Let his triumph be your salvation! Pray that he will save your family where he could not save his own!"
Voldemort turned to point his wand at the woman in the chair. "Avada Kedavra." The bonds disappeared as she slumped in the chair and slid to the floor.
"No!" the man shouted. "Harry Potter! Please! Please save my son! Please, save him..."
But Harry didn't get to see what happened. He felt himself pushed from the room and everything went dark. He awoke with a start and found himself lying in his bed. His potions book was in front of him, and his scar was throbbing. His Mirror was in his left hand.
He looked to find Hedwig. She was in her cage, sleeping. He decided that he should sent word to Remus.
He was torn between anger and sadness as he held the Mirror in front of him. Would he be forced to watch every time Voldemort attacked an innocent family? He tried to describe the family as best he could. Much like the first attack, he didn't have any idea who the people were. He wondered if Voldemort knew.
Unlike the first attack, Harry had no idea why these people had been attacked. Had they just been in the wrong place? The Death Eaters didn't seem to want anything from them. They were just torturing them. If they had seemed to take any pleasure from it, Harry might have been able to accept that as the purpose, but there was nothing..
Even more troubling was the fact that Harry was now convinced that Voldemort was taunting him. He was certain that Voldemort knew when Harry was watching, and he seemed to be almost gloating over the fact that Harry couldn't stop him.
And the Dementors. Where had they gone? They weren't there, and Harry felt convinced now that they were sent elsewhere as a diversion. Voldemort must know that Harry could see him. He was toying with him, as if he wanted to force Harry to watch, yet have everyone doubt him.
Harry decided he'd leave that part out again. Part of him (probably due to Hermione's influence) wanted to tell his former professor everything, but he knew that if he did, it would probably provoke action by the Order, or even the Ministry. Even if Harry didn't know what purpose it might serve, he was certain Voldemort wanted just that response.
So Lupin and the others would have to stay in the dark. It was for their own protection for now. If only he would have thought this way a few months ago, Sirius might still be with him. Ginny would understand. Harry wondered if she'd be awake and helping the Order. He'd find out later.
He looked directly at the mirror and spoke clearly.
Harry spoke to Lupin for some time. He relayed the important information to someone at Grimmauld Place, and then continued talking to Harry. Harry got little information from him about what had happened, and the longer they talked the more he wished he was talking to Ginny. However, Harry soon found out that Lupin was only stalling as Ginny was in the kitchen helping Molly with food and drinks for the Order members who were coming and going.
Eventually, they said goodnight to each other, and Harry found Ginny waiting for him with her own Mirror. Ginny was a little more talkative than Lupin, but Harry still didn't learn anything to make himself feel any better. Like the first time, they didn't know who (or where) the victims were. He did find out that one Auror, in his first year of duty had been Kissed when three Dementors cornered him in a village not far from Ottery St. Catchpole.
They had been a diversion. Voldemort had used Harry, and yet another person was dead (or worse) because of it. Ginny had tried to prevent him from feeling guilty about it, but it hadn't worked. If Occlumency couldn't protect him, what could? Even his best attempts to stay awake hadn't prevented the vision from forcing its way into Harry's head.
Harry eventually got some sleep that night, but it was light and he woke up feeling worse than he had the day before. He continued to sleep most of the next day. He was only interrupted once by Uncle Vernon who retreated immediately upon seeing a groggy Harry pointing a wand at him.
Harry spent the next week dreading the next attack, but nothing ever came. He'd expected something to happen afterward to identify it as the start of some organized attack, but nothing occurred. Instead, things seemed to be looking better and better. The sentiment around the Ministry, as well as the Daily Prophet, was that Harry could not be causing the attacks, especially given the advance notice he had given the Aurors on the most recent one.
This had been confirmed by light conversations he'd had with the Aurors across the street. They now shared their orders openly with Harry. They were to report immediately any strange activity or owls they saw to Kingsley Shacklebolt and submit weekly reports to the Office of the Minister.
Harry wondered what they would do about Uncle Vernon. After a week of no "unnaturalness" around Number Four Privet Drive, Uncle Vernon had adopted a new strategy regarding Harry. Upon realizing that Harry was less than a year from his seventeenth birthday, Uncle Vernon (with support from Petunia and some jeering from Dudley) had decided that Harry must be "cured of his condition."
Harry didn't know how Vernon planned to do this, but it seemed to involve a decent amount of chores. He wasn't being worked constantly, but Vernon seemed to be trying to make sure that Harry had a minimum of time to himself. He, of course, had no idea that the mirror on Harry's desk allowed him to spend many of his nights talking to the very same witch who'd turned their floor rug into a rather large lizard.
That was, undoubtedly, the most positive thing to occur since the second attack. Voldemort's lack of activity had left Ginny with very little news from the Order, and they had switched instead to simply keeping each other company after long days. Harry would spend his days washing clothes, or repainting walls, while Ginny spent her days cleaning out the basement of Grimmauld Place and helping Lupin and her mother expand and improve it. At night, they would talk to each other about whatever they were thinking about.
In the middle of a horrible holiday, it gave Harry his first piece of true happiness. He didn't even have to feel guilty. He didn't have to keep anything more from the Order, and Ginny didn't have any news from the Order to tell him. Instead they would talk about much less serious matters.
They discussed the next year's Quidditch team and what could be done about the pair of abysmal beaters they had, and Ginny interrogated Harry over what the O.W.L.s were like. Harry still replied to the owls that Ron and Hermione (and on occasion, Fred and George) sent him, but the letters were short and it still felt as if they were afraid of saying too much.
Ginny, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy saying too much. She talked about Ron and Hermione on occasion, and shared any embarrassing moments they had. In the absence of any dangerous secrets to pass on, Ginny had started letting Harry in on all the things she'd overheard while listening for more serious information.
"Michael Corner is still going out with Cho," she'd said one evening, "...not that I'm terribly interested in what he's getting up to these days, but it was a bit surprising." Ginny also made it pretty clear that she didn't like Cho all that much. "She was always so weepy. I hope she's happier now. Was she like that when she was going out with you?"
Harry found himself struggling to say anything. "I—er... well, you see... Erm..." Ginny waited patiently, but she had an uncomfortable, puzzled look on her face. Harry forced the words to come out. "Yeah, I suppose," he said finally. "Not always, of course— but, yeah."
Ginny looked a little worried, "Boys like girls like that, do they?"
"Maybe some do, I guess," Harry said. This was a subject he found a little uncomfortable, though he didn't want to think about why. "But not me, I think. I wish I would have been able to talk to her like we do.
Ginny seemed to accept his answer, but she didn't say much for the rest of that evening. Harry had wanted to ask her if he'd said something wrong. He was fairly certain since the incident the previous Valentine's Day that girls must have different ideas of what "wrong" and "okay" were. When he saw an owl on the evening horizon, he'd decided that he'd send it back to Hermione and see if she would help him out again. At the time she'd helped him before he'd been going out with Cho, but now he just needed help understanding his friend. Well, he considered Neville his friend, so perhaps Ginny was closer to being a best friend.
His thoughts were stopped abruptly when he realized that he didn't recognize the dark brown owl headed toward his window. He considered closing his window quickly, but the Aurors seemed completely uninterested in it. It must be a Ministry Owl, he told himself.
The owl soared into his room, dropped off a rather large letter with a Hogwarts seal on it, and then leapt into the air again, wheeled about his room and flew back out the window into the hazy sky.
Harry stared at the letter on his bed. It had his O.W.L. results in it. He was certain of it. It would also tell him about the upcoming year. Truthfully, he didn't care much about the O.W.L. results, but he knew they would have a big impact upon his last two years at Hogwarts.
Finally he picked the envelope up, and opened it. Two separate letters fell out, one bound in red ribbon and a ministry seal. Harry truly was more interested in the other letter, but he forced himself to look at the bound letter first.
He found that he wasn't terribly surprised by the results. At least, most of them. He'd gotten six O.W.L.s. He hadn't really expected to get anything in Astronomy, Divination, and History. He'd gotten an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he'd guessed that. His Patronus had distracted all of the examiners.
The best news, however, was also the biggest problem. Harry stared at it for a while before fully accepting it.
Potions Mastery: Outstanding
He'd thought he'd done well, but 'Outstanding'? He could imagine Snape's reaction already. Perhaps he already knew and was hexing Ron and Hermione just for being his friends. Then he remembered the Potions text. He quickly opened the other letter, tossing the first two pieces of parchment aside and reading the list of supplies. He scanned down the list until he found it:
Potions of Power by Shalorian Firecombe (Advanced Potions)
Dumbledore must have known he was going to get the O. He looked through the rest of the results quickly. He'd gotten all the marks he needed to try to be an Auror. Professor McGonagall was sure to be relieved by that. Hermione would be proud of him, too. He couldn't wait to tell Ginny about it.
He finally turned back to the other sheets of parchment he'd tossed on the floor in his haste. The first was the standard greeting to returning students. The second, however, was new. Harry read it immediately and then immediately reached for his Mirror.
"Ginny Weasley," he said clearly. The mirror shimmered but remained dark. Harry thought he saw some movement, and was fairly certain he could hear muffled voices.
Then the mirror cleared suddenly, as if a shroud had been pulled off it, leaving a smiling Ginny Weasley.
"Ginny?"
"Sorry, I had the mirror in my robe pocket. I was waiting for you," she said quickly. "So? What do you think?"
"Erm... What?" Harry fumbled as he wondered what Ginny meant. "What are you talking about?"
"The letter from Hogwarts?" she said with a furrowed brow, "You did get a letter, didn't you?"
"Oh, that. Yeah, I got it," Harry said as he realized that Ginny probably got hers quite some time ago. "I'm not sure I understand it, though."
"The International Confederation of Wizards is going to be assembling at Hogwarts."
"I didn't have any problems reading it, Ginny," Harry said with a little annoyance. Ginny had been the one to freely tell him loads of things he'd never asked her to, but now that he was asking, she was just reciting what the letter had said. "The letter said something about a festival, and... competitions?"
"Right. Bill was telling us about it. The I.C.W. members get together regularly, but usually its just a few of them at a time. Sometimes, though, they call an assembly. When that happens, they all get together to discuss whatever it is they need to discuss."
"While dancing about and turning dragons into armchairs?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You didn't let me finish. It usually lasts quite a while, and it's become tradition for the host to, well, show off a bit. There's usually a good number of feasts, and games, and other fun things."
"And competitions?"
"Yeah, I guess," Ginny said.
"Between the I.C.W. members?" he asked hesitantly.
"Well, no, of course not between them," she said with a laugh, "The festival is supposed to be entertainment. Bill said that when he was there there were races and a ball and the entire grounds became a great party and all sorts of people were invited."
"'Course it will probably be different this time," Ginny said with a wave of her free hand, "There was a lot of celebration back then, but I expect we'll still have fun."
"When was the last time this happened?" Harry asked with apprehension. "Bill was there, was he?" he continued, barely pausing before the final question. "They assembled sixteen years ago didn't they?"
Ginny looked up. "No," she said but her face looked sad, "The last assembly was almost fifteen years ago."
"Right," Harry said as he looked away. The wizarding world had celebrated as he spent his first year with the Dursleys and Sirius spent his first year in Azkaban.
"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," Ginny apologized, "but it'll be great, you'll see."
Harry tried to shake off the mood he'd fallen in. "So... er... what is going to happen?"
"Mum and Dad said that it wasn't really a secret, but that they didn't really know yet. There's going to be Quidditch matches, and feasts, and we'll probably have old wizards walking about the castle. Dumbledore's also arranging some large competition. All the fifth years and higher have waivers to sign."
"Waivers?" Harry asked as he looked about his floor. "I didn't get one of those," he said finally, "Not like it matters. I'd never get my uncle to sign it now."
"You don't have to," said Ginny, a fresh smile spreading across her face. "Dumbledore said yours was already signed."
"Your dad must have tricked him into signing it."
"Or Mad-Eye Moody scared him into it, yeah," Ginny said with a laugh. "But the point is that you don't have to worry, you're all set. Wouldn't be much of a competition, without you, would it? I mean, you don't expect Dumbledore to tell the Council that Harry Potter won't be competing because his Muggle stepfather didn't sign his waiver. You've got to give the audience what they want, you know?"
"Fine, but what exactly won't I be left out of?" Harry asked as he remembered his earlier concerns.
"Oh, right. There's going to be a competition," she said quickly. "I thought I told you that already."
"Yeah, you did. What kind of competition? Like a tournament?" he asked warily.
"I guess," Ginny answered dismissively.
"A wizard tournament?"
"Oh! No! Not like that," Ginny replied immediately. "Well, we might have some task to do, but nothing as dangerous as the Triwizard Tournament."
"Sure," Harry said, though his tone seemed to say something completely different. "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to end up in a bathtub wrestling with an egg while that bloody mermaid laughs at me."
"I doubt that, though I might be able to arrange that. I am a prefect now," Ginny said as she laughed. Harry noticed her blushing slightly.
"Are there going to be dragons?" Harry asked, trying to sound like he was joking.
"No," Ginny said, still laughing, "but there will be a ball."
Harry's head dropped. "I think I'd prefer the dragons."
Ginny continued to laugh at him and though he'd been completely serious, her laughter was cheering him up. Ginny offered to help Harry get whatever supplies he'd need from Diagon Alley. He would send a letter to Lupin telling him the things he'd need and Ginny would make sure Fred and George didn't try anything with any of them.
"You'll want new dress robes, too," she'd reminded him, "for that ball you're already dreading. I need some, too. I saw the most beautiful ones in Madam Malkin's. They were green and fitted. They'd make me look like a mermaid. They were really amazing," she said brightly though she seemed disappointed. "And, well, it's not impossible that I'd get them."
Harry wondered what she meant by that, and tried to ask her politely. She'd responded simply and with determination: "I have to find something to blackmail the twins with, of course. The already owe me a favor, but... well, I don't think it will be quite enough."
"Is that all?" he asked, "You could find eight things between now and the start of term!"
Ginny smiled but gave a discouraged sigh. "I know. But Mum's taking us tomorrow, and they've spent the last two days in Diagon Alley trying to make new wheezes." She tried to look happy. "I'm sure I'll find nice robes, and Hermione and I will find something really great for you. Just make sure you write as soon as you can. I think Lupin was planning on shopping for you later."
He had to admit that he liked the idea of Ginny and Hermione picking out dress robes for him. He certainly didn't want to, and though he really liked Ron, Ron wasn't the person he wanted picking out clothes for him. With Ron picking your clothes there was a good chance you'd end up wearing the Chudley Cannons logo.
Ginny said they were planning on making a day of it. Molly and Arthur were going to visit their sons and they were going to attempt to try and enjoy themselves. She and Ron and Hermione would have plenty of spare time to relax. "I'll bring my Mirror," she said. "Ron and Hermione can get a little... tiring at times. I'll still have someone to talk to, and it will almost be like you're there with me —er—us."
Harry promised to send off a letter asking for the things he needed for the next term, and promised to keep his Mirror handy the next day. As Harry wrote his note to Lupin his mind kept wandering. He had been feeling more and more troubled each time he talked to Ginny. He almost felt guilty about it.
He really enjoyed talking to Ginny. But he hardly ever talked to Ron and Hermione. In the past month, he'd exchanged only four friendly letters with either of them. They were his best friends, but he was spending most of his time talking to Ginny. He found that he had grown fond of his nightly conversations with Ginny. He'd have plenty of time to talk to Ron and Hermione once he was back at Hogwarts.
As he reached the end of his note, he tried to find a way to politely suggest that Lupin have the Weasley's buy the few things he needed instead of Lupin himself. He hoped that his old professor hadn't made any special plans. He finished the letter and was about to send it, when he remembered Ginny's advice.
P.S. If you don't mind, see if the girls will pick out my dress robes. I don't think I'd like Ron or the twins to pick out anything I'll be forced to wear in public.
He smiled and folded the letter. He'd forgotten about the twins. Who knows what they would have done to his robes. He would have had to spend one of their favors just to have them not charm his dress robes to change colors or attack him or even simply disappear.
Harry jumped to his feet. He'd completely forgotten their gift. It was perfect. Ginny would get the dress robes she had wanted, even if it took all of his favors.
He took out a fresh piece of parchment and started writing quickly. Ginny had said the twins had been spending the last few days in Diagon Alley. No one would see them getting a note from him. Harry didn't think Ginny would like the idea of him telling the twins to get her the robes. Ron had never liked such charity, and Ginny could be even stronger willed than him.
In the end, he asked for Fred and George to make sure Ginny and Ron had good robes. He figured it would be less suspicious that way. He'd keep to his room tomorrow so he'd be sure to see the look on her face as she told him that she had the robes she was dreaming of. In a moment his discomfort had fled, and now he felt almost triumphant.
He imagined what she would look like as he collected the two letters. He tried to remember what the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom looked like, but it seemed so long ago. With a friendly nip on his hand, Hedwig reminded him that he was supposed to be quick about this.
He Obscured the letter to Lupin and was already tying it on Hedwig when he let out a short yelp which startled the normally calm owl. He quickly untied it, ignoring the confused look Hedwig was giving him.
"No..." he said, picking up the Obscuring Orb again. "Not this. Not now. Bloody Orb." He held the letter, which was now a postcard depicting a underwater scene, and touched it with the small sphere again. Instead of changing, the scene remained, except for changing from night to day. "No, you treacherous blighter! I can't send this!"
He grabbed the letter to the twins, and was about to conceal it as well. He hesitated, fearing the results. A second later, an anguished cry could be heard from his window. "I'd destroy you if I knew how!" he shouted at the Obscuring Orb. The result was even worse than the first one. This time it moved. He frantically scrawled a note on another piece of parchment, folded it, and Obscured it. This one was just as bad as the second, but no worse.
He didn't have time for this. He had to send the notes. There wasn't any time to rewrite them, and even if there would have been, there would be no guarantee it wouldn't be worse the next time. He didn't know why it happened. He only knew that he desperately wished he could change it. He tied the letters to each of Hedwig's legs with shaky hands.
He waved mechanically to the Aurors as Hedwig left, to show them everything was okay. Then he collapsed on his bed. He looked to his Mirror, wondering if he should try to use it. Ginny would be eating supper now. It would be suspicious if she left, and with his luck, everyone would still be eating when Hedwig arrived.
So instead he simply curled up and stared at the Mirror. Next to it was the quick note he'd tested the Obscuring Orb on. It was a postcard now, depicting the same underwater scene as the letters to Lupin and the twins. He tried to convince himself it was his memories of the Triwizard Tournament, but he knew it wasn't. The twins would see it and they'd guess. Lupin would know, but maybe he'd change it before anyone else saw it.
Floating playfully in the center of the postcard as tropical fish swam by, was a slender mermaid with the sunlight sparkling off the green scales on her tail. If that had been all, Harry might only have been embarrassed. What mortified him was the fact that this one was not blonde, but had red hair, brown eyes, and light freckles across her nose.