For two whole days Harry completely ignored all the new information Dumbledore had given him. He couldn't understand what it meant so he contented himself with the thought that Hermione would be able to understand and translate it for him.
To keep his mind occupied, however, Harry had been reading some of the books in the small but very interesting library that belonged to Eleanor Cantwell.
There were some books of recipes, which he ignored; some were biographies of famous witches and wizards, which he glanced at. Deciding it was interesting to read a little more about some of the chocolate frog card characters Harry put the books to one side; he'd read them, he decided if he got the time.
The books that held Harry's interest the most however were the many - surprisingly many – books on defensive and offensive magic.
With Eleanor help and guidance Harry had chosen four books and had taken them back up to his bed where he liked to sit and read. For the first time Harry felt there may be a chance that he'd be allowed to return to school. It was true that he had yet to prove his innocence but somehow Dumbledore and the Order had been able to get the hunt for him called off. The Aurors obviously knew where he was, it was Tonks who had brought him here after all, and he was therefore technical under House Arrest and not allowed to leave.
But the previous night after dinner Harry had been given an envelope containing his OWL results and decisions as to his subjects for the next two years followed. Harry reasoned and Eleanor agreed, that they wouldn't be so cruel as to get Harry to think about his future if they truly believed he would be locked up in Azkaban.
Harry was still worried though. His main worry stemmed not from the false charges that had been brought against him but from the possible genuine charge regarding his use of an Unforgivable Curse. He couldn't forget that he had used the Cruciatus curse on a fellow human being even if she, Bellatrix Lestrange, was an escaped convict at the time.
When this thought crossed his mind Harry would put aside his books and pace back and forth on the bedroom floor. He didn't do it for long however because his feet, although healing quite nicely according to Madame Pomfrey, still caused him a fair bit of pain.
Eleanor always seemed to know when Harry had these dark and depressing thoughts and would appear at the door with a mug of tea, a pile of toast, a piece of fruit or, as on one memorable occasion, a slice of his favourite treacle tart. It tasted just the same as at Hogwarts and Eleanor confessed that she got her recipe from the house elves by hiding in the kitchen under Moody's invisibility cloak and watching what they did. Harry had to laugh at that, it seemed such an innocuous use of the cloak compared to uses he'd put his cloak to.
"You must remember though Harry that when I was at school it was in a time of relative peace. There was no Voldemort (Eleanor never had any trouble saying the name). Grindelwald was on the rise, it's true, but he had yet to show his hand fully. In the muggle world they had experienced one Great War and no one could conceive that another was looming on the horizon.
All that changed within five years of me leaving school.
Instead of a quiet life as a wife and mother I became …" her voice trailed away as she changed her mind about telling Harry too much of her past, but Harry heard the words regardless.
'An Unspeakable. What a ridiculous name! What we did was Unspeakable. I know I'll never forgive myself for the things I did – no was forced to do! What is it about this young man that makes me want to tell him everything? I've not thought of those times in so long and he just looks at me with those emerald eyes of his and here I am ready to bear my soul. So many deaths, so many families ripped apart. As if he could ever really understand!'
A tear had started in the corner of one eye. Gently Harry leaned forward, wiped the tear away and said in a whisper "I'm sure you did what had to be done – not what you chose to do!"
"And so will you Harry, so will you." Eleanor replied.
It was only after she had left the room and returned to the letter she had been writing downstairs, that Eleanor realised that Harry had responded to words unspoken. Instead of picking up the quill from where she had left it, Eleanor reached for the pot of glittering floo powder from above the mantelpiece.
—o-O-o—
As had happened so often since he had been living at Hill House, Harry's thoughts turned once more to Ginny Weasley.
If he closed his eyes he could almost feel her in his arms. He had been so fearful that, despite Sirius assurances, his shared dream talks with Ginny had been just his imagination running wild. To know, to really know, that all they had shared was real, gave Harry a sense of belonging to someone for the first time in his life.
True he belonged to the 'Dream Team' as Snape had called Ron, Hermione and him but as Ron and Hermione grew closer, Harry had felt the beginnings of a subtle but definite separation. Now they were a couple, even if Ron was slow to recognise the fact, Harry felt like an outsider looking in.
At the same time that Harry came to enjoy and relish his new-found belonging with Ginny, another part of him grew increasingly worried.
It all boiled down to that damned prophesy!
A marked man, that's what he was and did he have the right to involve Ginny and put her at increased risk?
First there was Cedric. Next came Sirius. Now Sam was missing, as was Remus! How many more?
Almost as though these dark thoughts opened a doorway, Harry's scar hurt him horribly and he curled up on his side, knees drawn tight to his chest and squeezing his eyelids tight together.
He was pacing back and forth in a towering rage. In his right hand was a serpent-headed cane, which he struck against the high black leather boots he wore under his voluminous black robes. He was utterly furious!
Incompetents and fools! He was surrounded by imbeciles and idiots!
Not one of these worthless creatures could even begin to comprehend the damage they had done to his plan. It was all mapped out in the minutest detail and now it had to be totally re-structured.
Weeks of planning ruined!
Before him knelt two black-robed figures. They wore no mask but sheets of long white-blond hair hid their faces. Their eyes were downcast, their identities obscured.
"My Lord." Whispered the male figure and Harry immediately recognised the voice of Lucius Malfoy. "It is my understanding that Potter will most likely be permitted to return to Hogwarts on the 1st of September. The Ministry will be sorely stretched to provide adequate security for the students passing through the barrier to the platform. That may be the most advantageous time for your servants to act."
Voldemort's mood suddenly changed as he got the perfect idea.
"Lucius you may yet prove to be a credit to your lineage. This is what I want done and if you do as I ask precisely then we will not have to capture Potter.
He will be begging to come to me!"
Voldemort threw back his head and laughed, long, loud and maniacally.
Harry's ribs ached horribly as the insane laughter erupted from his own lips. A sharp pain like a knife being thrust in his side made Harry draw a sudden breath; he looked up and realised he had an audience.
Albus Dumbledore was crouched at Harry's side, standing in the doorway was Eleanor and …
"Hermione!" Harry said in not much more than a whisper.
Harry's bushy-haired friend almost knocked Dumbledore over as she rushed to Harry's side.
"Oh I knew it! It's your scar again, isn't it?" She reached up a hand and placed her fingertips against his skin. A blindingly bright white light flared behind Harry's eyelids making him brush her hand away. Hermione looked down at her fingers that were sticky with Harry's blood.
"What was that?" The two friends chorused. Then as one they turned to look Dumbledore in the eye.
There was a distinctly calculating look on the Headmasters face as he asked quietly "Tell me what happened when Miss Granger touched your skin, Harry."
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances again before Harry replied "There was a flash of bright light and I felt a …?" Harry's words failed him but Hermione continued, "… warmth flooding through me as though I had just stepped out into a warm summer's day."
Harry nodded. "That's it exactly!"
"Curious. Have either of you felt anything like this before?"
"No sir." Said Harry.
"No, not while I've touched Harry but …" Now it was Hermione's turn to be lost for words.
"When you have perhaps been in physical contact with someone else?" asked Dumbledore.
As Harry looked at his best friend he noticed a distinct blush colour her cheeks, not as bright as Ron's perhaps but a blush all the same.
"With Ron a couple of days ago and then again last night." Answered Hermione.
Last night? Harry's mind was racing now. What was Hermione doing spending time with Ron in the middle of the night?
"Ah, yes. Mr. Weasley's 'nightmares'! stated Dumbledore flatly but the double meaning was plain for all to see.
"Ron had woken the whole house up at about 3 this morning. He was really agitated. It was much worse than normal."
"Go on, Miss Granger, what happened next?" prompted Dumbledore, gently."
"I'd woken up just before I heard the first shouts from Ron's room – don't remember what woke me exactly – anyway, I'd been awake for a couple of minutes when I heard Ron shouting. At first I couldn't make much sense of what he was saying but when I went up to his room, Ginny was already there. I nearly turned to leave but Ginny said 'He needs you!' That was all. So I went and sat on the other side of the bed – Ginny was on Ron's left – so I sat on the right. Ginny took my right hand and placed it on Ron's forehead and that was when it happened. Ginny and Ron felt it too, I'm sure of it. What does it mean Professor?" said Hermione a frown creasing her forehead.
"I'm not sure." Said Dumbledore pensively. "I have some theories which I need to examine thoroughly before I speak to you further."
Harry made a sound of exasperation; his meaning however was crystal clear. More secrets!
Dumbledore did not ignore Harry this time however but merely stated: "Have either of you ever heard of the Sixth Power?"
They both shook their head.
"No? Well I'm not surprised." Said Dumbledore. "The knowledge has passed into Legend. I'm not trying to be evasive Harry, I'm afraid my power of recall is not as it once was. I must consultant my predecessors and not a few text books before I can make a more informed guess as to what is occurring."
Harry and Hermione realised the subject was now closed to discussion.
"But perhaps now would be an excellent time for you, Harry, to recall what, if anything, you saw when your scar bled." Prompted the Headmaster.
Harry told exactly what he could recall just after Eleanor had entered the room with Moody. At the end of his recitation the silence was almost palpable.
It was Hermione who eventually spoke first. "What on earth could Voldemort mean by Harry beginning to go to him? Harry would never joint Voldemort not for all the gold in Gringotts! Not unless …!"
Harry met Hermione's gaze and they both knew that the only thing that would make Harry beg to go to Voldemort was if any of his 'family' were put at risk. Voldemort knew Harry would go to the end of the earth for his friends. Hadn't he done just that last June when he believed Sirius was in danger?
"I see that you have accurately perceived the risk Miss Granger. It is not Harry that needs protection now it is you and his other friends. To that end I believe it would be appropriate to call for a full meeting of the Order. So, if you will excuse me, I have a few people to contact." As he finished speaking Dumbledore stood slowly and bowing slightly in farewell, left the room with Moody and Eleanor.
Finally Harry and Hermione were alone.
"Well?" said Harry.
"Well what?" replied Hermione.
"Has Ron… you know?" prompted Harry, dying to find out what had gone on between his two best friends.
"Honestly Harry, you're almost as bad as Parvati and Lavender!" said Hermione indignantly.
"No need to be insulting Hermione!" said Harry going into a mock huff and making Hermione laugh when he pretended to sweep his hair back over his shoulder with one hand a-la-Parvati!
"Do you a deal Harry. I'll tell you, if you tell me about you and Ginny!"
"No fair!" exclaimed Harry. "I asked first."
But Hermione had crossed her arms in that familiar posture of stubborn determination.
"Oh. OK." Now it was Harry's turn to blush. Harry had climbed back on to his bed and sat with his back to the headboard, knees drawn up to his chest like a barricade behind which he wanted to hide. Hermione was sitting on the bed, one leg tucked up underneath her, eyes on Harry's face and posture reading meaning into every gesture, every glance as well as every word.
During all the time Harry spoke, only once did Hermione ask a question.
"Have you spoken to Sirius since Hastings? Since you first saw Ginny?"
After a moment's contemplation, Harry replied "No. Do you think it's important?"
"I'm not sure. It seems a little odd, don't you think, that you speak to Ginny but Sirius is never there?"
"Well he did say that it's different for him, he couldn't touch me or anything but Ginny can."
At this Hermione raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question.
"What? Just because I said we could touch …"
"How was it?" Teased Hermione, "Wet?" she queried, harking back to Harry's first kiss with Cho in the Room of Requirement. Harry's answer was so serious though that she rapidly cast off all pretence at levity.
"Hermione have you ever wanted something so badly that you end up being afraid that if the day ever came when your dream came true, the reality would be an enormous let down?"
"Oh, Harry! I am so sorry, I just presumed from what Ginny said, …" she once again failed to finish her sentence.
"What did Ginny say? Tell me?" In his desperation Harry had reached forward and grasped Hermione's upper arms in a surprisingly strong grip.
"Ouch! Harry, you're hurting me!" moaned Hermione.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to." Apologised Harry as he let her go.
"Well you should be." She scolded gently but rubbing her arms all the same. Harry had such a look of contrition on his face that Hermione took pity on him and told him exactly what Ginny had said.
"Really? She said that?" Harry was blushing now.
"Last year you worried that you were no good at kissing and this year I'm told that Harry James Potter is the best kisser in Hogwarts!" said Hermione.
Harry lay back against his pillow, still with a soppy grin on his face.
"I take it that she didn't tell you when she was here then?" queried Hermione.
"No. We didn't get any time to be alone. Most of that day was taken up with me recalling everything that had happened since I left Privet Drive. I shall have difficulty believing that I'll never have to return there and that the Dursleys …"
"… Are dead. I know there was no love lost between you but it's odd that they left you everything in their wills don't you think?" Said Hermione quite matter-of-factly.
"What?" said Harry, totally dumbfounded.
"Well, that's part of what Dumbledore was trying to tell you, Harry. The Dursleys left everything to you. You now own number 4 Privet Drive!"
"But I thought it would all go to Aunt Marge and I know she planned on leaving everything to Battersea Dogs Home."
"Have you forgotten that Marge died too?" queried Hermione. "Apparently it's be proved that Marge died first and since she left everything to her brother, your Uncle Vernon, and only if he pre-deceased her would everything go to the dogs home. That means that you also inherit Marge's home, her smallholding here in Essex, and all her dogs. Her next-door-neighbour is looking after the place until you decide what you want to do with it."
"But why?" challenged Harry. "What made them leave it all to me? They always hated me."
"Well that's true but apparently Mr. Dursley hated the tax man even more. He actually stated in his will that he rather it be, - what were his words? – Oh yes, squandered by a no-good layabout than one penny piece of it go to the thrice-damned tax man!"
Harry started laughing again at that but rapidly stopped.
"It only hurts when I laugh." He grimaced through his grin.
"Harry, be serious for one minute will you. There's a lot more that you need to understand. The Dursleys are not the only ones to include you in their wills." Said Hermione.
Harry looked puzzled again but paid close attention to what Hermione told him next.
"NO! NO! No way! I can't! It just isn't right! I killed him. How can I possibly benefit from his death? Give it away – to the Weasleys – to Dobby for all I care – I won't take it!"
Harry's fury at being told he was to inherit half of Sirius' not inconsiderable estate showed signs of rapidly getting out of hand.
The two friends had been sitting side-by-side on Harry's bed during Hermione's explanation but now Harry was back to pacing back and forth. As his temper flared small ornaments scattered around the room were shattering. At least two of the stained-glass panels in the bedroom window had cracked and little puffs of smoke were rising from the plaited rag-rug on the floor.
It was only Hermione's quick thinking and expeditious use of her want that saved the day. Harry was so blind to what was occurring around him that he hadn't even noticed the blatant use of magic by an underage witch out of school!
Eleanor had informed Hermione that Hill House had some rather special wards placed upon it to keep things "discrete and away from prying ministry eyes". Hermione couldn't wait to ask about them and had been promised a 'nice long chat' later.
After about fifteen minutes of Harry's ranting and raving – most of which was purely emotional with not a jot of logic – Hermione had had enough. She cast a quick silencing charm on Harry, which instantly infuriated him even more. In his annoyance Harry succeeded in smashing the light bulb in the pendent fitting in the ceiling and the pair were plunged into darkness – well almost!
Hermione had heard the expression 'incandescent with rage' but had never actually witnessed it before. She said nothing however. Now did not seem to be a good time to mention that Harry's fury was making him glow with an ethereal blue/green light – especially his eyes!
"Lumos." Said Hermione and her wand light illuminated the room once more. On the desk was an oil lamp with a box of muggle matches. Eleanor had explained their presence saying she had muggle friends and also squibs in the family and the electricity was therefore necessary. The area she lived in though, was prone to power-cuts, hence the lamp and matches.
Harry had a face like thunder as he sat with his arms crossed. "If looks could kill," thought Hermione but all she said was "I'll take the silencing charm off if you promise to listen and not start shouting at me again. I'm only the messenger remember and you did ask me to come here Harry."
Harry seemed to deflate – his anger gone and his temper back under control. Hermione said a quiet 'Finite' and Harry whispered, "Thanks."
Hermione continued as though nothing had happened.
"Right then. It appears that Sirius had re-written his will just after we returned to school last January at the end of the Christmas holiday. I suppose what happened to Mr. Weasley brought home how important it is to have a will drawn up to make sure last wishes are met. Most of it is very straightforward. There are a number of legacies and bequests. The ones you'll probably like best are …"
Hermione had assumed her best lecturing voice as she told Harry some of the details.
All the Gryffindor Quidditch Team equipment is to be disposed of and replaced with state-of-the-art brooms, robes, protective gear and practice Quidditch balls.
The institution of the Lily Potter Shield to be awarded to the person or persons to do the most to advance inter-house unit, the recipient to be nominated by anyone attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The nominee to be approved jointly by the House Prefects, the Head Boy and Girl and the four Heads of Houses.
The institution of the Marauders Memorial Mug to be awarded to the person or persons who most clearly deserve the title of Prankster(s) of the Year. To be voted for by the entire school. Recipients may be from the study body or the faculty. Remember the Marauders Motto
"We do not cease to play because we grow old, we grow old because we cease to play!"
Harry's eyes were glistening with tears now; some were of joy that his Mum's sense of fair play be recognised and honoured but also for the imagined reaction of Snape to the MMM!