Chapter Ten- Confederates

Ron raised his arm and punched Harry soundly across the jaw.

Harry stumbled back a couple of steps, his hands fisting and his muscles coiling. Forcing his immediate reaction down, he took a deep breath and raised a still tense hand to his face.

"Wonderful to see you too, Ron."

A flicker of embarrassment flashed into the redhead's eyes, but he raised his chin and the glint became steely. He lunged for another blow, startling the others, but Harry had regained his bearings. He easily caught Ron's wrist before the punch could land, and the boy was brought up short. As Ron's eyes widened, Harry increased the grip, garnering a slight wince. Harry suddenly released his hold, realizing that it was rather similar to Snape's earlier treatment of him. Mentally shaking his head, he braced himself should Ron attack again. When the boy seemed to hesitate, Harry watched him with an eyebrow slightly quirked.

Ron stared at him, fidgeting nervously under the other wizard's intense gaze. He glanced toward Hermione, who was looking shakily between the two, before turning back to his old friend. Harry merely watched him, content with disquieting the redhead with his further lack of response.

Finally, Sirius took it upon himself to break the tense silence. "Well, that was interesting. Hello Ron, Hermione. See you've been told about Harry."

Hermione startled at his voice, then gazed at him in slight incredulity. Sirius shot a quick grin at her, and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm sure Ron didn't mean anything, Harry," Sirius stated.

"I sure as hell meant that, Sirius." Ron corrected angrily. "And I can speak for myself."

"Well, you didn't seem like you were going to. Perhaps now, though, you'll tell me why in Myrddin's name you hit me," said Harry, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes and leaning his weight to the left.

"I . . . who?" Ron asked, confused.

Hermione glanced at him sharply. "You aren't saying you don't know who Myrddin is, Ron! You're a seventh year! Not to mention a wizard-born. Honestly, that is just wrong." She shook her head with a chastising look. "That was another name for Merlin, of course. Not often used in the current age. Typically only used in old literature, not in speaking." She glanced at Harry, who merely looked at her mildly.

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "Who cares? Really, Hermione, this isn't the time," he sneered at her, though he still glared at Harry.

"Ron. What is wrong with you?" Harry questioned. "I know this is a shock, but really, I thought you would take it better. As in, not attack me."

Ron shifted, glancing to the side, then back at Harry. "I, er, well, damn." He let out a hard breath, staring Harry in the eyes. "You were gone for two bloody years, Harry. Two years! And you never let us even know you were alive!"

Harry glanced over Ron's shoulder to Dumbledore, who was seated in his chair, watching them. "I don't know how much the headmaster told you . . ."

"Oh, don't give me that you couldn't!" Ron exclaimed, cutting Harry off abruptly. "For safety. That's a load of sod." Ron snorted, tightening his crossed arms. "Like you couldn't have done something. Anything to let us know you were not dead or tortured or whatever! You never bothered with following rules before. I thought you cared about us!"

Harry stiffened, narrowing his eyes. "Of course, I care about you, all of you, you brazen simpleton. Don't you dare presume to tell me what I should have done. You have absolutely no idea of what I went through. And there wasn't a day I didn't wish to return, or contact someone. Now, I find I rather miss where I was." The last was said as an afterthought.

Ron dropped his arms to his sides, and answered in a hiss, "Then go back there, mate, if this is so bad. Hope you have a nice life." With that he pushed past

Sirius, who looked rather surprised. The door to the office slammed after Ron's retreat.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He felt Sirius place his hand back on his shoulder, from where it had been removed. Sighing once more, he looked at Hermione, who was somewhat pale.

"You can go after him, Hermione. It's all right."

She turned her gaze on him. "No, Harry. I'm staying for now. Just, just . . . what happened?"

Harry rubbed a hand over his eyes and asked, "What have you already been told?"

"That you were rescued from, er, where you were, and taken to some arcane stronghold of wizards. That they are very secretive, and for safety, you couldn't contact anyone. And you continued your education with them, until you could return."

"That's all we've been told, as well," Sirius said.

"That is all I can say, to anyone." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, then dropped his hand.

"But . . ." Sirius started.

"But nothing. Sirius, I explained. Hermione, it is too dangerous. Neither of you understand, there are things that have to be, in order to save lives. I'm sorry."

"We can't understand if you don't tell us."

"Then you aren't meant to understand right now." Harry shrugged off his godfather's hand, and looked at the headmaster.

Hermione gazed at her friend, her mind in overdrive. She knew something was going on, but she didn't want anything to happen if she found out what that was. Finally, she sighed and nodded. She vowed to herself that she would find out when possible, but for now she'd accept it. Harry turned to her at her movement. He offered a small smile, one she noticed was not shown very strongly in his eyes, not like before when she had known him. Hermione stepped forward once again and embraced him. He returned it tightly.

"I'm glad you're back, Harry," she whispered, backing away afterwards. "No matter what. And so is Ron, he just . . ."

"I know, Hermione. He'll deal or he won't, we can't do anything about it." Harry gave her another smile. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah, you too." She glanced around. "Well, I better go, Potions starts in a bit."

Harry shot her a sympathetic look. "You probably shouldn't be late for that. Snape, er, Professor Snape hasn't changed much in two years."

"You've seen him?"

"Unfortunately."

Hermione gave him an exasperated glance, but chuckled, as did the older wizards. She patted Harry's arm, smiled and waved at the others as she left the office.

Once the door closed, Harry and Sirius moved over to the headmaster's desk. He greeted them cheerfully and offered them seats, which they took easily.

"Well, to what can I owe this visit, my boys?" Albus asked, smiling.

"Harry wanted to see you, Albus. Said it was important, though I thought he should have stayed in bed," Sirius groused, glancing toward his godson.

Harry shook his head. "Sirius, I said I was fine. Anyway, headmaster, I need to speak with you." He locked eyes with the eldest in the room, running a hand over his cheek to his neck, then raised his eyebrows.

Albus nodded, noticing Harry's gesture. Rightly figuring it meant that they needed privacy, he turned to Sirius. "Sirius, can I ask you to tell the other teachers that Harry is well? I hadn't the chance since Severus told me, and I'm sure they would like to know."

Sirius nodded, and glanced at Harry. "Okay, I'll be back in a while then. You'll be all right, Harry?"

"Honestly, what do you think, Sirius?" Harry answered, smirking. Sirius shot him a glare, then a smile, and left the room.

Once they were alone, Albus gazed at the younger wizard. "Is this about the attack? Because I have no idea how Voldemort knew you were back, let alone where you were."

"Partly. And I might have some idea."

"Oh, well, go on."

"I suppose Sirius and Remus explained about the fight?" Harry questioned, taking some tea that the headmaster held toward him.

"Actually, I watched the incident in a Pensieve. I trust you remember those?"

"Quite." Harry smiled, sipping his tea. "Well, then you heard everything and saw how the attack was coordinated. Malfoy didn't really say anything, except that he was there because of my return. Which means Tom sent him. But what was interesting was the attack itself."

Albus leaned back in his chair and nodded. "Yes, most unusual. Voldemort's followers don't often act as they did."

"Exactly. Besides Lucius, who was clearly a scout, the others used muggle techniques. At least what most wizards consider as such. I mean, daggers? And there spaced arrivals. I don't remember studying attacks of death eaters like that from the first round with Tom."

Albus raised an eyebrow and noted Harry's use of the Dark Lord's given name. Taking a drink from his own cup, he listened as Harry went on.

"They were skilled with the weapons, much better than if they were unfamiliar with them. They've been taught, and I can't see Tom doing that. And then there was the mental plane."

Setting his cup down in its saucer, Albus leaned forward. "Mental plane?"

Harry nodded grimly. "It seems Tom quite easily tapped back into our connection. Whilst unconscious, we met in this odd chamber. He appeared just as I realized it wasn't physical and that it wasn't only mine."

"Well, that explains some." Albus looked considering. "Once Sirius and Remus returned to Grimmauld Place with you, we had Poppy Pomfrey heal your wound, as it wasn't safe to move you. She was able to close it, though we had to wait for Severus to brew potions to take care of it. You were calm for a long while, though we couldn't wake you, then started convulsing. Your pulse and such was increasingly sporadic. Severus had gone with his potions just as she and Sirius came to tell me to get someone from St. Mungos."

Harry nodded. "Yes, that would be when Tom decided to show me his skill with the mental pain. Not my idea of a good time. My power sent us from the plane before he could kill me. We landed in our bodies. But that wasn't all."

The headmaster gazed at him, raising an eyebrow in question. "What was it?"

"We had time to speak, before his little show. From what I could get out, he has a source. A realm jumping source."

Albus blinked, leaning forward once again. "How do you know?"

Harry sighed. "He indicated that he knew of my doings in the other realm. I said that his sources must have been mistaken, but he said they were never wrong. Therefore stating he had some."

Bringing his cup once more to his lips, Albus' gaze unfocused as he thought. The two men sat in silence for a moment, before the headmaster spoke. "That explains how he knew of your return, unless it was through your scar."

"Couldn't be," Harry said, shaking his head. "I have mental shields that block things like that, the plane was as much mine as his, that was why we could meet there. But he can't sense me. Possibly his source can, that is all I can guess about how he knew of Diagon Alley. And it's likely that the source is not human."

"Most like. Jumping is too rare in humans; possibly a Vampyr?" Albus questioned, though he didn't expect an answer.

Harry looked around the office, then gazed at the headmaster. "We can be sure of one thing. Any of his allies do not bode well for us."