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Chapter 25 – Honours

In the Headmistress' office, after the Death Eaters fled, Hermione still had the helmet on, and she had had quite a shock when the two dark wizards had been Kissed, as she had literally seen them entering the Cohort's mind. They weren't in control of it like her, though, only prisoners of it. She sensed that the mind had a different treatment for people entering it voluntarily, but she preferred to explore the mind some more, in search of other souls. She then discovered some souls that had been sucked away from their owners, each soul kept by the one Dementor that had sucked it. However, to her surprise, they were fewer than they should have been, given the creatures' millennium of activity. She explored their history a bit, especially the memories related to souls sucked, and gasped when she saw a dark corridor.

In the memory, she was in a dark corridor, but she didn't need light. On both sides of the corridor, she saw numerous alcoves. The mind told her that the Dementors went into the alcoves to get their load of souls sucked away from them through a strange device.

She didn't see anything else, though, as the helmet was forcibly removed from her head.

She yelled, grasping at it, until she remembered where she was. Albus Dumbledore looked at her anxiously, and she straightened herself. The few other people in the office looked at her with respect for some, and in wonder for the others.

"Sir?"

"Thank you, Hermione, but... what did I told you?"

"I'm sorry, Professor, but they have so much information to give, about the sucked souls, and their organization, and..."

The old man sighed, interrupting her rambling. "I know, Hermione. I suspected so. But a whole hour has passed already, and I didn't want you to miss dinner."

"An hour? Dinner? Sir..."

"I know you are interested in the helmet, but I don't want you to lose yourself in it. You will be able to interact more with it in the near future, but only under my supervision. After all, we have now a group of jobless Dementors standing on our grounds. And the dinner is being served to sustain the many defenders who worked successfully today."

"I understand, sir. And don't worry, I removed the order preventing you from accessing the mind."

He looked at her suspiciously, and she felt she had to complete her sentence, so she described everything that she had done with it. At the mention of the corridor, Moody gasped, and told them about the corridor they went through in Azkaban and the pensieve-like item they got from the study room. At this, everyone was flabbergasted at its meaning. If said item contained the souls of every person whose soul had been sucked by Dementors, and if it allowed communication with them, it would be the most useful tool for learning history ever. However, it also meant that these souls must have been in the item for a long time, thus being prevented from having the afterlife they deserve.

Hermione finished her story, before extracting a promise from Dumbledore to keep her informed of further developments concerning the Dementors. After all, she had been a key in pushing the attack away from the castle, and, thanks to her, they now had a potential army at their disposal. Everybody thanked her before leaving the place, until only she and Dumbledore remained in the office.

He looked at her intently, before speaking again.

"You did great, Hermione."

"Thank you, sir. I did what I could."

"You did more than that. Notwithstanding the helmet happenstance, without your ideas, we would have been crushed under the Dementors."

"The golden griffin helped too, sir."

"Yes, yes. But don't undervalue the impact of your research. That's why you are going to be thanked, both officially and non-officially."

"Thanked, sir?"

He looked at her with his usual twinkle in his eyes. "Non-officially, I would like to offer you the membership to a group of people dedicated in fighting the dark lords. The group, which I preside over, is called the Order of the Phoenix, and most of them had been there to defend the castle. Some even died." He fell silent for an instant, before talking again, in a lighter tone. "I also believe that the order of Merlin third class is awarded for... how is it worded again? people who displayed a cold head in circumstances leading to the safeguarding of a great number of wizards and witches, an important magical location, or both."

"But..."

"There is no 'but,' Hermione. Such an award at your age is truly rare, as only-"

"Let me guess... only three cases of such an award have been given to underage wizards over the school's existence. I know, sir, I read Hogwarts, a History."

"Truly impressive. Quite a book, too. But what it doesn't state, is the age of those wizards. Only one of them was as young as you are, Hermione. The two others were older teenagers in their seventh year, a mere month from their coming-of-age."

"Still, I don't want the additional attention, sir."

"Perhaps, if I present the situation from another angle, you will agree?"

"You may try, but I'm not sure about the agreeing part."

"If I told you that such an award would open you all the wizarding libraries for free?"

Hermione was speechless. She had to remember to breathe at some point. It was like a dream come true. She spoke softly, afraid of shattering the idea.

"All libraries, sir?"

"All public libraries, yes. Even their Restricted Sections."

She reflected about it, and only one cloud was marring her horizon. Yet, it was a large one.

"Sir? What about... Voldemort? If this is done, he will know what I did, and I will be sought after. And my parents will be, too?"

"Hmmm... yes. This is the drawback. We will find something to solve the problem, but are you agreeing on the award part?"

"Well... after you highlighted the bookworm aspect of my person, I couldn't very well refuse."

They chuckled, before he spoke again. "I guess it's a yes, then. Do you allow me to announce it at the feast this evening?"

"I'm not sure about it. I think we have to work the protection first. I'm sure there are some junior Death Eaters in the students somewhere..."

At that, he frowned, and she sensed that it was a tough subject. His answer, then, surprised her. "These have been taken care of."

"Really? How?"

"Really. And I think we should proceed, as the others will be hungry, waiting for my speech. I'll tell you 'How' after dinner, if you agree to meet me in my office then."

"Okay, then. I agree about you telling the school, then. I'm already seen as a bizarre student already anyway."

"I'm sure that your Gryffindor housemates will be most interested in the tale of your bravery in research."

They both grinned, before standing to head for the waiting meal.

A bit later, in an empty office...

Gabriel and Tamara appeared in the deserted office. At least, this time, it hadn't changed. Nobody was sleeping either, and no cage appeared. Gabriel changed immediately into a winged lion, while Tamara watched him, fascinated. Looking at her, he nodded towards a torch on the wall. Taking it, she wondered briefly what kind of living place could be made of stone with wooden torches as only mean of lighting. Using her fire mastery, she lit it.

Following the leonine form of Gabriel out of the room, she gasped when she saw the huge interior of the castle. Looking around, she thought that she caught a movement in the corner of her eye, but it was only a portrait, and she turned away, sighing. She still had the impression of being watched by hundreds of tiny eyes, though, and it was unnerving. Gabriel was crazy to actually want to come back here. Gabriel was...

Gabriel was gone!

She looked around in fright, before hearing his voice coming from downstairs.

"Come down here, Tam. There is nobody already."

She looked over the stone railing, and, looking around quickly found the quickest route to the entrance hall. Gabriel was mumbling alone, pacing back and forth. He stopped and faced her.

"The first time I arrived in this place, the office was dusty and locked. The second time, there was someone, and I barely escaped. The third time, there's a battle raging right where we stand. And now... nothing. Not even a dent in the wall of this damn school. Am I becoming crazy, Tam?"

"Gabe... if I know one thing, it's that you are not crazy. You have much to understand, and you have to recover your own mind, but you definitely aren't crazy."

A pause, while he resumed his pacing.

"Gabe? You've been here only four times?"

"Hmmm? Yes..."

"Were you in this place before? I mean... before last summer?"

"Possibly... I don't know."

"How do you know it's a school?"

He faced her. "I didn't know it was a school."

"You just said it. You said 'not a dent in this damn school wall' or something like that."

"I did?" He frowned.

"Yes."

"Then it means that I went to school here doesn't it?"

"Could be."

"Then I should know where to sleep, and where to eat?"

"You slept at school?"

"Supposing that it's a boarding school, yes."

"Is it?"

"I don't know."

"You know, this conversation is pretty scary, and the setting doesn't help."

"Give us more light."

She closed her eyes, and the flame suddenly got whiter.

"Happy?"

"Yes."

"Now..." He reflected intensely. "It's dark outside so it's evening or night time, but before curfew."

"You had a curfew?"

"Shhh, I'm trying to remember."

"Oh sorry. Go on."

"I'd go... up this stair..." They ascended the stair. "Then this one." They climbed that one too. "Then we pass this doorway, beware of the armour."

"Which armour?"

They passed the doorway and he stopped her, showing an armour seeming to guard an empty passageway. "This one."

"How did you know..." At his frown, she spoke quickly. "Oh! Forget I asked."

"Right. Now, where is that tower?"

"Tow...? Right, I'm mute."

"Down these steps, and up that one stair. Here we are!"

"Here? There's nothing here except the stair we just climbed, a corridor, and plenty of portraits."

"I know, it's strange, huh?"

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Nice, nice."

"What do we do now?"

"Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Where do I go when I'm hungry?"

"The Eating Hall?"

"Thank you, but the question was mostly for myself."

"Oh alright."

"Still, the Hall it must be. A Hall where we all gather. We are four, and we are four hundred." He ignored her inquiring gaze, and continued to think aloud. "So the Hall must be big to accommodate us all. It's the Big Hall? Not quite. The Large Hall. The Tall Hall? The..."

"Grand? Great?" She was beginning to feel annoyed.

"Yes!"

"Yes what?"

"It's the Great Hall! I remember, now."

"Great! Sorry, no pun intended. Where is it?"

"Follow me."

Gabriel started to walk in a direction, ascending stairs and descending others. On the whole path, she felt observed by the still-present hundreds of eyes, as if the castle was kind of... alive. They finally stopped in front of a large set of doors behind which they could hear indistinct noise.

Gabriel felt at home, he knew this place, he was sure of it, now. The darkness engulfing his memory was starting to recede with each step he had taken in the castle. It wasn't complete, however, as he only uncovered little details when he stumbled upon them. He desperately wanted more, and felt that the answer was beyond these doors. Ignoring the worried glance Tamara shot him, he pushed on the seemingly heavy doors, hard.

A bit earlier, now...

The Great Hall had been cleaned, the wounded brought in the hospital wing, and the dead students had been laid in a classroom nearby, alit with candles. After the tables had been put up again, the room had filled little by little, as people had trickled in from the infirmary. The wildest rumours had started on the reasons behind the castle still being up despite the Dementor attack, and the sound only quieted when Albus Dumbledore entered the Hall, followed by Hermione Granger.

Once Dumbledore inside, the doors closed automatically, and he went to the front of the Hall, thinking about everything that had happened today. Turning around on the dais, even before joining his seat, he addressed the students.

"Dear students, dear staff, this day is sad for many of us, but we all fought valiantly, and succeeded in pushing the assailant out."

Cheers erupted in the hall, albeit subdued by the many losses, and Dumbledore let them release their pent-up anxiety, before continuing.

"Unfortunately, in this very hall, the treachery of the dark side did cost us many lives. I'll take the blame for that, but know that the perpetrators had been duly punished, and the Death Eaters responsible for this had been punished even more severely."

This raised a few conversations, as everybody had noticed now the empty space in the Slytherin table.

"We also lost friends and colleagues in the Entrance Hall battle, and we will mourn them properly when everything will be set up accordingly." From the corner of his eyes, Dumbledore noticed a movement at Gryffindor table. Turning his head, he noticed that Ron and Ginny Weasley had stood up. Thinking that it was in homage to Bill Weasley, he continued his speak. "Now, perhaps, you wonder how we could turn those Dementors away? This has been the job of many, but sustained by the work of one person that I want to thank now, before being able to do it more formally later. One student who had devoted every minute of her spare time on studying the dark creatures. One person who had the bravery needed to sustain the creature's effect for a long time without flinching. One... Hermione Granger."

After the shocked silence, during which only Dumbledore and Snape clapped, the Gryffindors applauded their housemate, finally understanding why their resident bookworm hadn't spoken to any of them during the year. They were quickly followed by the other houses as, without knowing the exact details, the students knew that she was responsible for their victory today.

After the applause died down, Dumbledore continued his speech. He was still aware that the two youngest Weasleys were standing, and didn't know why. Perhaps they wanted to speak about Bill? He would have to ask them after he finished.

"There are many questions to which we don't have an answer yet, but I promise we will try to find an answer soon. For instance, why did some of our people work for the enemy, while some of the enemies worked for us, some even sacrificing themselves for our well-being?" He nodded towards Ron and Ginny, but, to his surprise, they weren't even registering what he was saying and were looking at the doors. He also noticed that, at the Ravenclaw table, Luna Lovegood had also stood up and was looking at the doors too, her back to him.

Wondering about this, he continued to speak. "The last mystery is about the golden griffin that has appeared to help us, even helping to revive some fallen defenders we thought lost. Rest assured that we are searching about it right n-"

The doors of the great hall seemed heavy. They were heavy. But they were mounted on magically treated hinges, and opened on the slightest touch. When Gabriel pushed them hard, they opened violently, banging on the walls and surprising everybody, the perpetrator included.

He shuddered under the many gazes, and advanced a few steps into the now silent hall, cautiously followed by Tamara. To every witness, they were like muggles discovering the Great Hall by accident. Three of them, though, thought differently. One of the three wanted to rush to the boy's side, but her human legs weren't fast enough, nor were they powerful enough to jump over the tables. To almost everyone's surprise, Ginny Weasley transformed into a lioness, before roaring and jumping above Gryffindor then Hufflepuff tables in two leaps.

The students who had been saved by the unknown lion in the forest recognized her. Snape recognized her. Gabriel recognized her. In half a second, he was on all fours, and took his leonine appearance. Ginny stopped in front of him and inclined her head on the side, smirking in a lion's way. Gabriel shrugged, before growing his wings again. Everyone gasped.

Once again, they went closer and closer, their hearts beating the same rhythm in the silent hall, until Ron, who hadn't moved yet, started to run towards Dumbledore, yelling.

"No! They're doing it again! Stop them!"

The twins, as well as Hermione, had witnessed the effects first-hand in the alley, and they stood up, trying to cast a shield around the lions, while Hermione shouted "Circle of protection! Cast a circle of protection"

The teachers didn't grasp what the teenagers were saying. Only Snape got the message and started the incantation. But the felines were closing in already.

Hearing all these shouts, Tamara understood what they wanted, and, throwing her torch near the two beasts, concentrated, raising a hand. A circle of flames extended from the torch and surrounded the lions just as they licked each other's face.

The sound was as if lightning had struck the very spot. The circle of flames held half of the damage, but the nearest tables got pushed a few inches away by a gust of powerful wind. The two lions fell on the floor, and the winged one disappeared. Again. In the commotion that ensued, Luna approached Tamara discreetly, and put something in her hand, before speaking to her ear.

"Flee!"

After the noise went down, the wizards began to look at Tamara strangely. The black girl had witnessed the whole scene. She had entered with the boy who had transformed into the winged lion, when the wizards thought of them as mere muggles judging by their earlier gasping. She had blocked a shockwave with a circle of fire, invoked without a wand. To everyone here, she was an oddity. To the most aged and knowledgeable here, she was...

She shuddered, as she saw the intention in some of the older wizards, the bearded one being the most focussed.

She was a prize.

She prepared to turn around and run, when she reflected that she couldn't very well escape in that way, not knowing the building nor the location. They would be faster and their spells were flying. She had only one option. She had hoped never to use it, but now was the emergency case her father had talked her about.

She stood in the middle of the hall, head hung and eyes closed, and she raised her hands. For everyone present, she had abandoned the fight and was surrendering. When they noticed the trembling air around her, though, it was too late already.

The girl was swiftly surrounded by a wave of fire so hot that the nearby chairs and clothes, even a few feet from the flame, went ablaze, to the student's dismay. The circle of flames around the girl continued for a second, then flashed white, before disappearing. At the girl's place, a charred circle remained.

They all looked flabbergasted. They had just received answers to some of their questions, but that raised other ones. The most urgent thing to do, now that the strange girl had escaped, was to help the unconscious lion. Dumbledore conjured a magically lifted stretcher large enough for it, while Snape approached Hermione and spoke to her ear.

"It has been done before, hasn't it?"

At her thoughtful silence, he pressed on.

"That was what had happened in the alley, wasn't it?"

She looked at him in annoyance, and answered, a little too loudly to be private. "Yes! Now, let me think."

He knew her, now, and realized that she was gathering her numerous thoughts, on the verge of finding something. In that state, you could be Voldemort himself, and she'd have answered in the same way.

A second later, she nodded, satisfied with herself. To the still waiting Severus, she muttered "Dumbledore's, after dinner." She then followed the lion-laden stretcher outside, with Ron, Luna, and the twins. Nonplussed, Dumbledore finished his scheduled, although retarded, speech, informing the students that classes were obviously cancelled for a few days. Nobody felt the need to rejoice, though, because the circumstances were extraordinarily sad. The aged Professor then sat down and the plates filled with the evening meal.

Elsewhere...

In a small glade, under a blue sky, two doors were set, opposing one another, separated by ten yards of grass in the middle of which a marble chess board was levitating. The black clad androgyne was there already, looking at the game with a smirk plastered on his face. The old man rushed through the door, fuming. The room immediately lost its pastoral scenery and fell back to its initial stony appearance.

"Annoyed, are we?"

The man took a moment to collect himself, glancing at the board. When he spoke, his underlying anger, as strong as Nature itself, was barely contained.

"How could I not be? Thou gave him the promotion spell... I can only congratulate you."

"I have as much the right to use my trump cards as you. With your schemes inside schemes, I doubt your pawns even know their job."

"Of course they do not! We agreed not to let them know."

"Did we? It seems to me that that clause had been uttered but not brought on the contract."

"Thou didn't..."

"Yes, I did! It's your fault you sign treaties too willingly! Besides, I want to win!"

"Was not the last of thine victories sufficient? Forty millions..."

"Now that I acquired the taste, I can only ask for more."

They went silent, watching the chess figures moving around. After a long pause, the old man spoke again, and gone was the anger.

"Thou know, now that I reflect on the subject of this, getting him out and letting me know about thine modest treachery might have brought worse ideas in mine fatigued mind. We will meet later."

He was openly smiling, now, and the other could only look at him in apprehension, as the scenery changed to a desolated landscape, but beautiful in an eerie way. As the old man left the room, the other spent a long time asking himself why he was now seeing the earth from the moon's surface.

Dumbledore's office...

When Hermione entered the room, she saw that her Potion mentor was already there, and that a bird disappeared in a flash of flames. Knowing about phoenixes and their abilities, she looked at the old man inquiringly, while sitting in one of the available armchairs.

"It's a bit late for correspondence, isn't it Professor?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "True, true. But, after ordering the Dementors into one of the castle's remotest wing, I had to inform the Ministry of the true extent of today's event. I just sent a letter to Arthur Weasley, another to Amelia Bones, and another to... Rita Skeeter."

Snape reacted at that. "You're mad, Albus! That woman will-"

"I made it clear that she was to write what I told her."

That brought a silent pause, before Dumbledore turned toward Hermione.

"I also filled a form that I also included with the Minister's letter, for you to receive the award." He turned toward Snape, and recounted what the girl had done during the battle.

During this, Snape was looking at her wide-eyed, and Dumbledore concluded by "...and, as you already have this award yourself, Severus, you understand I can't ask for you to get it again."

"I understand. I guess congratulations are in order." He rose, ready to shake hand formally with her.

"Order, order... was it a joke, Severus?" Dumbledore's eyes were, as always, twinkling madly.

The Potion Master stopped in mid-stride and turned toward the old man, scowling. From her seat, though, Hermione could notice that the man's ears were reddening. He was blushing!

Wanting to end the uncomfortable situation, she rose as well, and took his hand to shake it. "Thank you, Professor."

"So," started Albus again, looking at her with an amused smile, "are you ready to get your medal next week?"

She blushed, before sitting down again. She looked at the old man. "I'm not realizing. All this is so sudden."

"I understand. If you wish, we can push the ceremony later, like midsummer?"

"No! I mean... I want to be able to get that Library access as soon as summer starts."

Snape looked at the two of them, before fixing his gaze on the old man. "I can't believe you pushed her using that card, Albus."

"Why? It's true, and it worked, yes?"

Hermione looked at them inquiringly, a frown on her face. Dumbledore sensed that he had to explain, or a very clever witch would be coming for his hide.

"Severus suggested that you get that award as soon as we learnt that Voldemort was working on the Dementor as well, based on the fact that your research gave us a head start. But we all know that you'd have refused. I had a quick exchange with Arthur afterwards, and he confirmed that the little advantage I told you about exists. Then the battle broke up, and I didn't have time to speak to you about it until you practically... saved us."

She blushed. She had wanted to express her anger at being manipulated into accepting the award, but finally came to grips with it, because she had really deserved it. Recovering, she addressed the old man. "Am I to receive a protection afterwards, as I asked you before?"

"You don't let anything pass by, do you?"

"Sorry about that, sir, but I have been well trained. Well?"

"We can put your home under Fidelius, but your parents could be target at their job. They wouldn't want to live in a relative prison either, I guess, so I have several ideas about that. The main and foremost is about your identity. I thought about it during the meal, and I think that merely changing your identity would be sufficient, as the usual magical detection spells wouldn't find you, or your parents, then."

"Seems interesting. You have other ideas as well?"

"Truthfully, that one was the most practical. I'd rather have you next to us in the incoming battles, rather than in a remote country."

"Oh! Well... I agree." She thought about for a while, before addressing him again. "I guess we are going to have our memory modified, am I right?"

He nodded.

"I don't really like that, but I don't have much choice either. Are there names on the... what it is? A medal?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her being so thorough. "It's a badge, and there's no name on it, as one can only have and use one when awarded it. The ceremony will take care of that. However, there is a register with all the recipients' names in the Ministry."

She looked at him, having taken her decision. "We'll do that, then. But after the ceremony. I don't want my new name for all spies to see."

Now that it was settled, Dumbledore conjured some tea, and they sipped it in silence for a while.

Snape, suddenly remembering what had happened earlier, looked at Hermione questioningly. "What were you thinking about, in the Great Hall?"

"What? Oh! That... I'm sorry, I was thinking about all the new things I knew about Harry."

"You mean... you didn't know him already before he died?"

She looked at the other Professor, and he shook his head. Apparently, Severus Snape hadn't been made privy to all of the developments about Ginny's case.

"He might be alive."

"What?"

"You heard me. And we might have seen him, in the Great Hall, and in the battle against the Dementors as well. And in the alley where I called you, too. Remember the magical signatures you found?"

He nodded, too flabbergasted to interrupt.

She continued. "We have discovered since then that it could have been left there by an item made by James Potter. For whom would he have made magical items if it's not for his family? He was an Auror, not an artefact builder. Besides, the lion always came for Ginny, each time."

Albus Dumbledore was looking at the excited teen, and decided to share some information as well. "There is more, Severus, Hermione."

At their startled expressions, he raised his hand to prevent interruption, before continuing. "Minerva and I have discovered, a few months ago, that a visitor had entered the castle unannounced, through magical mean, namely a portkey. We discovered that it was a boy, and, after a discussion I got with Nymphadora Tonks... you don't know her, but she was here with the Azkaban mission group. She's an Auror, and a metamorphmagus. Anyways, I discovered that the boy was one, even better than her, and..."

He was interrupted then by Hermione, who had looked thoughtful at one point. "It's Harry, then! He told us... Well, he asked us to keep it quiet, and didn't give us much insight into it, but he told us about it, last year, before... before going to that wretched place."

Dumbledore looked contrite at that. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I would never have..."

"Don't apologize to me, Professor. Besides, it's too late now."

Snape looked at her, and asked "What did he tell you about?"

She looked at them both, before looking at her hands, her mind going back in the past. "He was starting to experiment with the animagus and metamorphmagus transformations. He read a book which unified these transformations into a wider theory."

"Which book?" asked Dumbledore. "I don't know anything about such a theory, or such a book, and I taught the subject for... for a while."

"That's the question. He told us it was written by an ancestor of him."

"Who?"

"He didn't tell."

"Speaking of ancestors," continued Albus, "that boy, who I'm not comfortable calling Harry right now, appeared twice in an old teacher's office. He may have appeared there also during the battle, but we were too occupied to notice. The first time around, Minerva and I went to that office and its door resisted my best unlocking spells for a while. In the dusty office, we found something... disturbing. Do you remember Professor Shaun, Severus? In your first year as a student here?"

The Potion Master seemed to think about it for a moment, before answering. "Not quite, Albus. I recall she taught something related to muggles, and at that time..." He looked at Hermione quite shamefully.

"I understand. She was teaching Technomancy, the art of mixing magic and muggle devices. Quite what you did with the Dementor, by the way."

Hermione interrupted him. "Why don't we have that course now, Professor?"

"I'll answer that tricky question later, Hermione. For now, let me tell you that we found a stack of assignments, and one of them was from James Potter." Dumbledore ignored the scowl from Snape. The Potion Master had hated James Potter for all his life, and the scowl was a reflex now.

"So... what?"

"At the end of his assignment, he wrote something that forced us to discover that Professor Shaun was his mother. Harry's grandmother, thusly. And I am beginning to believe that we are to see young Harry more and more often around."

Snape interrupted him. "Even if it's him, he has changed beyond what we knew of him! In the Great Hall, I didn't think it was him and I'm sure no one else did. Dressed as a muggle, gawking around, much taller, without glasses and with all his scars..."

"It has been a year, Severus. I gather it has been a difficult one for him, from the start."

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"What about the other one? She wasn't quite a muggle, right?"

The old Professor sighed. "You are right, Hermione. When she stopped that shockwave, some of us noticed that she did it without a wand. It's quite rare for a wizard to achieve a great control over magic without a focus, hence the wand. It's unheard of that a young teenage girl could bring up a perfect circle of flames without a wand and in a split second. She did, though, and it pointed to the myth of the elementals. Do you know about it?"

"Are these those ones supposedly controlling the elements?"

"You named it. No wizard had been able to confirm it, so I wanted to question her about it, but she left, through a strange fire construct."

They finished their tea, reflecting about the evasive teenagers.

Standing up, Hermione addressed Dumbledore a last time. "Professor, if we meet Harry... what can we do?"

The old man reflected about it, before answering. "Comfort him. Make him feel at home. Merlin knows he's elusive enough as it is. And then, try to discover his story."

"I was already thinking about that last part, sir."

"No doubt, no doubt. Now, it's getting late, and I guess we are all tired by this troublesome day. Good night."

"Good night, professors."

"Good night Hermione."

Auror Headquarters, the same evening...

The angry Auror, who happened to be the only metamorphmagus of their ranks, entered the old man's office. Even retired, Alastor Moody had been given a room to himself in the Auror Headquarter building. The old man looked at her with his magical eye, while his whole body was looking through an overly large register, his back to her. Noticing her state, though, he put a ruler in the book and turned around.

"What is it, Tonks?"

Her only answer was to slap her hand on his desk. When she removed it, he noticed the item she left there. Straw. Not understanding the meaning of it, he looked at her and repeated his question.

"What is it, Tonks?"

She huffed. She was so angry that she couldn't speak for a short time. He sensed that her fury wasn't against him, however, so he just waited for her to express herself.

"It's... it's the result... of a perfectly cast... Finite Incantatem... on my wand!"

He looked at her, then at the straw, not understanding everything. She huffed again, before dropping in a seat and taking her head in her hands. In clipped sentences, she explained that she had launched into the battlefield earlier that evening, but her wand wasn't working. She had to use her second wand, even if she wasn't as proficient with it. Thankfully, the Dementors had left soon afterwards. After coming back to the Headquarters, she had cast the dispelling spell on her wand, and it had transformed in a small pile of straw. She then looked at him.

"Mad-Eye, you know when I saw straw for the last time?"

He looked at her, his working eye wide in understanding. "In Azkaban."

"Yes. I didn't know why I felt so sleepy, then. I'm sure the old man stole it and replaced it with transfigured straw."

He gawked at her for a second. "You mean that a prisoner now has a wand?"

She hung her blushing head in shame, but nodded. "I want to return there, and check if he's still in his cell."

"Since he had had a wand for a few hours, I don't think he is there anymore, but go ahead."

He wrote a few chosen words on a scroll and gave it to her.

After she left, he returned to the book and used his magical eye to read it quickly. Four hours afterwards, he turned the last page, and slammed the book shut angrily before leaving the room. Obviously, he hadn't found what he was searching.

The cloud of dust that had risen from the book settled, and its cover became visible again. If anyone was there, they could have read "Azkaban Prisoners, Self-Updating Register."

In the basement of a house in northern London...

The man was working on one project for his job. He was, like always, in his heated basement, a large fire blazing in the chimney. But, even in the warm atmosphere, he couldn't miss the rise in temperature. Turning around in surprise, he noticed that a flame had appeared in the middle of the room, thankfully devoid of anything flammable. It was as if the room had been made on purpose.

Of course it had been made on purpose!

The man looked at the expanding flame inquiringly. None of his usual visitors were scheduled for a visit, and his other friends didn't know of this place. There was only one person other than him and them who knew about it, and that was because he had taught her so.

And he had done well, visibly, as his daughter emerged from the now recessing flame, exhausted. He had just the time to catch her before she could hit the floor. She wasn't wounded, but the trip had clearly cost her more energy than usual. He was worried about the circumstances, but didn't press her, as she was in the safety of the hidden room.

He released her on the couch, and got himself a strong alcohol before sitting across from her in his favourite armchair. In the blink of an eye, the fire in the chimney rose in volume, and the temperature mounted with it. Tamara was resting, recovering, and his father was helping her.

After a while, he noticed a bit of paper that had escaped Tamara's hand. Not exactly paper, he reflected, rather parchment...

It suddenly reminded him of unhappy memories, and raised suspicions about her whereabouts. Unfolding the paper warily, as if the small thing could eat him, he read what was written on it, and let it fall in shock. Taking it again in trembling hands, he read it again.

Next time, make sure he empties his energy beforehand. Train him for that, and then bring him to Air elder Joshua Ch'larwen.

The message was short, and out of context. He knew the named individual however, and it made him shudder in anger, reflecting about the past and the political rift between elemental families. His anger made the room atmosphere waver, and Tamara stirred in her sleep, remembering him the circumstances, and forcing him to cool down.

As it was, he still couldn't allow his daughter to meet that man. The rest of the message was strange also, but seemed innocuous enough to be left alone. She would remember having a message, anyway, so he couldn't totally destroy it. He took it away, and copied it, the reference to the Air elder removed. He then threw the original in the air, and it burned to its last constituents, not even leaving ashes.

Mark O'Malley wasn't an elder yet, but as a Fire Master, he had powers on par with his responsibilities, and vice-versa.

To be continued in next chapter: Memories...

So, when will they meet for good?
I already feel your mood,
A little bit more, I say.
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