Chapter Title: Chapter 9: Top Secret
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: HBP Spoiler
Summary: Emily continues to remind Harry of Hermione both with her tenacity and studiousness. Professor McGonagall calls Harry into her office for a very tense meeting, one that leaves Harry both shocked and angered, and afraid to talk to his wife.
"What did you say?" Harry blinked several times, his mind racing. As quickly as he could come to his senses, he modified his expression from one of suspicion – the ever-present habit of any good Auror, former or otherwise – to one of feigned confusion.
"I said, I was just wondering what you know about Time-Turners."
Harry paused, still restraining his suspicion and surveyed those intense, sapphire eyes, which gazed, curiously, back at him. He had to resist the temptation to look beneath the surface of those blue spheres and probe the mind within. Harry had always despised himself for using Legilimency, even against the vilest of death-eaters. To employ it so blatantly on an unsuspecting student would be unthinkable to him; yet here he was considering it. He wrote it off as an old habit. "Far more than I can tell you, I'm afraid, Miss Vance," he said grimly. She looked suddenly suspicious. "There are things I learned as an Auror that I cannot reveal," he lied.
He justified this misdirection because, for most Aurors, that statement really would have been true. In Harry's case, he had known about Time-Turners for much longer, and had rare, first-hand knowledge of their use.
"Oh, I see," Emily said dejectedly.
"If I may, why do you ask?" Harry said with trepidation.
"Well, I think it's fascinating," she said with slightly repressed enthusiasm. "Don't you?"
"To an extent." Harry dropped his quill and rose, strolling out from behind his desk with his hands in his pockets. Resting against the front edge of his desk, he leaned forward until he was only a foot from Emily's face. She was not at all disturbed by his proximity and gazed patiently at him, guessing correctly that he was stalling for time. "Are you familiar with the phrase 'If it seems too good to be true—'"
"'It probably is,'" she finished the sentence for him.
"Your parents taught you well."
"Thank you professor," she said nobly, looking down for a moment.
"That isn't a concept witches and wizards your age frequently deal with. Up to this point, the magic you've encountered tends to be fairly straightforward, with no severe trade-offs."
"Yes sir."
"Time-turners are rife with complications. They are one of the most closely guarded magical items the ministry regulates." He paused for effect. "The use of a Time-Turner is never taken lightly. I have seen them in action and even the most careful application can have disastrous complications that are simply too numerous and complex to predict. Using a Time-Turner for seemingly good intentions can still cause great and lasting harm. Even wizards who strive to avoid meddling will frequently cave-in to temptation and bend the rules to prevent something happening. Some get lucky," he paused and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, "but I fear to think of what would happen when things go otherwise."
They both sat and thought for a few, silent minutes. Harry stood again and wandered over to a book-covered wall, gazing from volume to volume, not really reading the titles.
"Time-Turners are a complicated and relatively unknown subject. If you were any other student I might consider ordering you to choose another topic for your essay. In your case, however, I don't expect I'd get you off the subject even if I did make such an order." She nodded with a wry smile. Harry grinned back as he continued. "Miss Vance, please promise me you won't get in over your head. I'll write a note to Madam Pince to help you with any sources in the restricted section. I don't know what, if any, books might discuss Time-Turners. Unfortunately, I cannot share my own sources with you. I appreciate your drive, but if you can't get enough information by the weekend, please choose another subject." Emily smiled enthusiastically and slipped her book back into her bag. "Now, what about this writer's-block you've got?"
"Actually, I think I'm over it, and I think you're right about a subject change."
"You're not even going to try it?" Harry said incredulously. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you about it. I simply wanted you to understand the seriousness of this subject. I have every confidence you can do this well."
"Well, Professor, I didn't mean a complete subject change, just a different angle. If it's all right, I'd like to write about the more abstract, paradoxical nature of Time-Turners, rather than about how they work. I know the assignment was to study the actual use of an item but…"
"Say no more." Harry waved his hands in the air. "For this subject, I think we can bend the rules a bit. After all, it's only fair, since you can't as easily study this item, as your peers will with theirs. I think it will be a fascinating exploration. I look forward to finding out what you think on this one."
Harry continued to grow more and more comfortable with his job as the fall progressed. Before he knew it, he found himself standing in the Entrance Hall one Saturday with a sheaf of parchment, checking off names as students made their way down for their first Hogsmeade visit.
"Having a good day Professor?" Otis said genially as Harry checked off his name.
"Never better, thank you Mr. Crawford. You and Mr. Ellington are off to the Quidditch supply store I expect."
"Yeah, Frank wants to look into getting a better broom. I told him his Cleansweep would be fine but he won't listen to me."
"I got some extra money for my birthday and I want to have every advantage I can get," Frank said nervously. "Surely you can appreciate that Professor."
"I can, but it's not just a good broom that wins games Mr. Ellington. I've had to play against superior brooms before. If you train hard and play smart, you can out-fly them every time. Why don't you see how things go in the first game? If you're still convinced you need a new broom after that, then by all means… but you should save your spending money for other things if you've already got a decent broom."
"See," said Otis, "even Harry Potter thinks you've got a good enough broom. Excuse me Professor, I'm simply trying to prove a point." Otis looked confidently into Harry's eyes and Harry nodded quickly to indicate that he should feel free to forego the formalities for a moment. "Save your money for something more important. Know what I mean?" Otis winked and nodded in the direction of a very pretty third-year Ravenclaw girl that had just passed by. Frank blushed crimson and looked mortified as Otis raised a knowing eyebrow toward Harry.
"Miss Vance, how are you doing today?" Harry moved away quickly to spare Frank any further embarrassment on his, Harry's, account.
"Alright," Emily responded breathlessly, stuffing an old book quickly into her bag. She looked slightly apprehensive.
"Don't worry dear, your Grandmother sent in your permission form earlier this week, I made sure she knew. Missing out on Hogsmeade visits for one year is tragic enough. I didn't want that happening again this year."
"Thanks Professor. I really appreciate it. I love her very much, but she really can be forgetful sometimes."
"Enjoy the village."
Several days later, Harry's mood was sky high as he, and the rest of the school, looked forward eagerly to the weekend, and the first Quidditch match of the year. Things were slightly tense between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but the snide comments and even a few practical jokes in the Great Hall merely made Harry and the other teachers laugh. These incidents paled in comparison to the ones they each remembered from just a few years ago.
"Just ignore them Mr. Meeks." Harry had said on Wednesday morning as he made his way up to the staff table. "What are you so nervous about anyway? You're not even playing."
"He always gets wound up the week of a game," Lauren Walker patted him admiringly on the back. "Don't you Eddie." Edward turned quickly away from Harry and busied himself with his porridge.
That afternoon, Harry was whistling happily to himself as he walked down the hall toward his office after his final class of the day. He had caught up on grading all of his papers and his next assignments wouldn't be due until the following week. Harry was very much looking forward to finally having a quiet evening at home with Ginny. He almost didn't notice the note stuck into his doorjamb.
I need to see you in my office. –M.M.
Confused, but undaunted by the note, Harry turned on his heel and whistled his way up the stairs. The flames of the torches lining the hall seemed to dance joyfully alongside him as he approached the stone gargoyle. Without missing a beat, Harry sang the password and rode the stairs up to the Headmistress's office.
"Professor, please come in," said Professor McGonagall without expression as she opened the large wooden doors. Harry stopped whistling, mouthing the word "professor" silently as his gaze followed her feet around the desk and finally lighted upon her face, which was more stern than usual. All in all, Harry knew something was wrong and he was at a complete loss as to what it might be.
"Good afternoon… Headmistress," Harry said tentatively. She smiled darkly at him, correctly reading his worried expression but maintaining her stony appearance. Harry gulped silently and settled into a rigid, wooden chair. She had not bothered to produce the more comfortable ones he had seen in the past.
"I want to preface this conversation by saying that I think you have done a fine job these first two months. You've adjusted admirably and you seem to be winning over the students' respect quite well."
"Thank you." Harry tried hard to relax in the stiffness of his chair.
"The school governors and the Ministry of Magic, have expressed a concern with me that is somewhat troubling. There is suspicion regarding your relationship with Miss Emily Vance." Harry looked shocked and nearly leapt from his chair, but something deep inside McGonagall's stare suggested that she greatly disliked what she was doing right now. He swallowed his anger at the accusation and decided to hear her out. "Some of the school governors are more than a little bit paranoid. I've tried to keep them calm on this, but I have to take their concerns seriously, especially with such a new teacher."
"I'm sorry…" Harry broke his silence, "but what exactly are these concerns?"
"Well, there's no doubt that the two of you have hit it off rather well on the teacher/student level. I, personally, have no problem at all with that. Certain students need that sort of interaction. Emily more than qualifies."
"Professor, if you're saying what I think you're saying, it's simply preposterous. Granted, I do very much enjoy Miss Vance's company…" Harry noticed that McGonagall's eyes darted up when he had said "Miss Vance." He was reassured when he realized that he had maintained that sense of professionalism without thinking about it. He silently hoped that Professor McGonagall had noticed the same thing and not thought of it as a shallow cover of a man who was now completely on the defensive.
"I understand, Harry," she was quite deliberate when she used his first name, hoping again to reassure him. "The two of you have a fair few things in common, and I daresay she reminds you of Hermione at that age," she paused momentarily and adjusted her robes. "Please know, I have every intention of supporting you on this, but summarily dismissing the governors' concern will only make them more suspicious. I'm sure there is nothing to hide."
"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, "I just don't understand what could make them think…"
"There is a part of the story you haven't heard yet. The ministry hasn't done anything because, as of yet, they have only suspicion and theory and no proof to support their claims. They did, however, find it important that they notify me, as well as the governors, of the problem." Harry, who was now completely and utterly baffled, simply shook his head, unwilling to believe what he was hearing. When Harry said nothing, McGonagall continued, "It seems that a top secret volume from the Ministry of Magic, which went missing a number of years ago, has recently turned up."
"Which one is it?"
"It has no title, which, of course, has made it difficult to search for secretly," McGonagall said smoothly.
"Oh, that one," Harry said with astonishment. "That was a huge nightmare when we found out. I remember it like it were yesterday; it was my first month at the Ministry."
"This is where we come to the problem. You see, the book was found with Emily."
"You're kidding." Harry had temporarily forgotten the accusatory nature of this meeting and was now in full Auror mode, trying to work out the mystery.
"I am not. A ministry official was walking through The Three Broomsticks on Saturday when he spotted it at her table. Apparently she was working on an essay of some sort on Time-Turners."
"Yes, that's for me."
"Time-Turners?" McGonagall said with a curious and knowing glare.
"She wanted to do it. I assure you, I warned her of the problems involved," Harry said defensively.
"I admit, she does remind me a lot of Hermione as well," Minerva sighed, "but there is some concern about her getting so deep into such a secretive subject. Normally, they wouldn't have made a big deal out of it, but that book includes, among other top-secret information, some of the original source material on Time-Turners. Some within the ministry, and a few of the governors find the circumstances a bit… suspicious."
"Suspicious how?" Harry said hotly.
"They think it's interesting that the book went missing right when you joined the ministry, and it finally shows up when your prize student needs to do some research on a less than standard topic that just happens to be included in that book. All of that may simply be coincidental," McGonagall paused, "but some aren't inclined to think so. I'll come right out and say it. They think, for whatever reason, that you stole that book and now you've given it to Miss Vance. Some have even gone so far as to suggest that it might have been a personal favor."
"This is absurd, and that accusation is disgusting and completely baseless. I assure you I did not give her that book," Harry spat. "I've never even seen it. They questioned me about it back when all of this started and it never came to anything. Haven't these people heard of double jeopardy? And where do they get off… I mean… they don't know the first thing about…" Harry growled at no one in particular. "Some one actually said that?" His shock and rage was now making his breathing quite ragged.
"Please Harry, try to be calm," Minerva said comfortingly. "I have argued each of these points with the ministry and with the Board of Governors. They have each agreed to withhold any action until conclusive evidence can be found. I brought you here because I thought you had the right to know, but there's nothing we can do at the moment except wait."
Harry paused for a moment to catch his breath. He suddenly felt as though he had just run up to the office from Hagrid's cabin. "Thanks Professor, for your confidence, but with all due respect, it's not particularly comforting right now." Harry leaned forward and buried his ashen face in his trembling hands, running his fingers through his untidy hair. "I feel like I need to do something," he stammered.
"What did you have in mind?" McGonagall asked skeptically.
"I don't know, but I feel like I should get out in front of this, not look like I'm hiding from it."
"Please Harry, I don't think it would be wise to speak publicly on this. I'm sure it will all be cleared up and most people won't even hear the first thing about it. Believe me, it wouldn't be good for anyone; you, Ginny, Miss Vance, Hogwarts, the Ministry…"
"I couldn't give a damn about the ministry!" Harry spat. The words echoed for a moment in the cavernous room. Harry though he heard a couple of light gasps from the portraits around him. He paid no attention to any of them, save one. At just that moment, without thinking about it, Harry looked up at the solemn face of Dumbledore, which was neither smiling nor frowning. Dumbledore gazed back at Harry for a moment with an expression of intense calm, and closed his eyes again. "Maybe you're right," Harry said after a moment. "but I can't simply stand by while this… this… investigation, or whatever it is, is going on. I'll get to the bottom of this." Harry rose from his chair, a determined look on his face, speaking very quickly. "If I have to question half the ministry I'll figure out how she got that book and prove that it wasn't…" Harry froze in thought and stared off into space.
"Wasn't what?"
"Surely she didn't say…"
"Didn't say what? Who? Harry, are you alright?"
"She wouldn't… There'd be no reason… Would there?"
"Harry?"
"Professor, you haven't told me what Miss Vance has to say about this? She couldn't possibly have told them that I gave her that book." Harry looked at her with fire in his eyes.
"I am not privy to the details of the Ministry's interview with her, but as she is my student, I insisted on being aware of what was going on at all times." She walked around her desk and stood beside Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "I can't believe they'd still be this unsure of what to do if she had implicated you in any way. That, I think, would be enough evidence for them to take action, and that hasn't happened. Please, Harry, try to be calm about this."
"Can I talk to her about this?"
"I'm not sure that would be wise."
"Why not. It's not like I'd be tampering with the witness or anything. They've already talked to her." Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again in thought. "You could supervise," Harry offered. "I suppose it would look a bit suspicious… But I need to find out what's going on. Please, Professor…"
"I'll see what I can arrange," Minerva said, looking away. "Why don't you go back to your quarters? I'm sure you should discuss this with Ginny. Miss Vance isn't here anyway. She's gone home for a few days to rest. She's taking all of this rather hard herself. She was most upset after they had finished questioning her." McGonagall's expression turned to one of deepest concern and she looked at Harry with pleading in her eyes. "Please Harry, go and talk with Ginny, do nothing for now; that is my advice. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything."
Harry let out a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a groan of frustration. Slowly, and in deep thought, he turned and walked to the door. He looked up as Professor McGonagall touched his hand in a comforting way, and opened his mouth to thank her, but no sound came out. He simply nodded and walked out in silence.
The light from the torches that lit the hallways no longer seemed to dance with glee on the walls. The shadows grew dark and sinister, flicking about in a menacing fashion as the weight of everything that had just been said pressed heavily on Harry's hunched shoulders. A single tear rolled along his cheek as he realized one of his greatest fears might be coming true. Could the magic of Hogwarts Castle be so quickly and suddenly extinguished? Harry felt suddenly betrayed by the first place that had ever brought him happiness. He had once grown to know this place as his only true home. Now, he wanted nothing more than to simply run from the castle and never look back, and he hated himself for it.
Harry wandered the halls aimlessly for several hours. Students greeted him from time to time. He smiled weakly and waved in return, but could not bring himself to speak. Not knowing what he would say, he had avoided going home to Ginny. He simply couldn't believe what had just happened.
As he wandered, kicking an untied shoelace back and forth with each step, he found himself in the middle of an empty corridor just as a swarm of students began returning from dinner, heading for their respective common rooms. Hoping to avoid any further confrontations, Harry quickly ducked into the nearest doorway and, without realizing it, found himself in his own office. Now he was stuck between a crowd of students on one side, and a most unpleasant conversation on the other. Knowing he would have to face her eventually, Harry steeled himself and slid his wand along the molding in the corner, revealing a most depressing-looking, stone staircase.
The lights were dim when he stepped into the living room. Harry checked his watch with concern; it was a few minutes before seven. A dull clunk sounded from the kitchen and Harry guessed Ginny must have been in there making dinner. Hoping to put off what he had to do for one moment longer, he walked quietly toward the bedroom to drop his things. Hearing another clunk he turned his head instinctively and looked behind him at the kitchen door, walking full force into Ginny in the darkened hallway.
"Ouch… Harry, you startled me. You're finally home. What kept you?"
"I'm sorry sweet-heart. I didn't mean to bump into you. It's awfully dark in here." Harry turned quickly into the bedroom and made a fuss over hanging his cloak neatly as he faced away from the door.
"Harry, is everything alright?"
"Sure, it's fine… Did I forget to get more oil for the lamps?" Harry walked quickly over to a lamp on the wall opposite the bed and checked the reservoir.
"Don't lie Harry, and don't change the subject. Something's wrong?" Ginny said with growing concern.
"What makes you say that?" Harry said, trying to sound surprised.
"Harry, you haven't even looked at me since you got here," Ginny said grimly.
Harry paused, his hands frozen. After a tense moment of silence, he finished adjusting the lamp and, with a great effort, finally looked up at Ginny. Her eyes drew him in, full with the warmth of love, and the darkness of concern.
"Harry, what is it?" Ginny walked over to him and took him by the shoulders, looking up at his drawn expression.
"Ginny, there's something I have to tell you."
For nearly an hour Harry filled her in on the details of everything Professor McGonagall had said, interjecting his speculations and theories in between, reading between the lines here and there. Her reactions were somewhat subdued and she stayed quite silent, sitting next to Harry on the edge of their bed. Now that he was going he simply wanted to get it over with and he was grateful for her quiet patience. When he finished, he looked up to see a tear drip from her cheek and fall silently onto his hand, which she was holding in hers.
"Ginny… I… You do believe me… Don't you?"
"Harry…" She looked up into his pain-stricken eyes and smiled, not the rigid, formal smile he had gotten from Professor McGonagall, nor the pained tug of the cheeks which was all he had managed as he passed students in the hallways, but one of warmth and love. Leaning in and wiping his eyes, she kissed him softly. For a moment, Harry's expression was one of shock, but he quickly melted into her arms and returned the kiss with tremendous passion. He felt the tension and darkness that had enveloped him over the past few hours flow out of him like water through a sieve. "I love you so much," Ginny punctuated the silence that followed.
"You believe me then?" Harry said hopefully.
"Of course I do. You're really very sweet Harry."
"Excuse me?" Harry said with a raised eyebrow.
"How can I not believe you when you're so worked up over all of this." Ginny rose, pulling Harry up behind her and out into the living room. "I've seen you with Emily in your office. I admit I was a little worried at first. She was calling an awful lot. But then I remembered back to when we were in school. In my third year, I must have gone to see Professor McGonagall twice a week. Percy was gone and I guess, I just missed mom and dad, and it was nice to have an adult to talk to. I can't imagine what it's like for Emily. She must miss her parents a lot."
"Yeah," Harry said darkly. Ginny wrapped her arm around Harry's side and rested her head against his shoulder.
"That's when I realized why she kept coming so often. She knows you relate to her in ways other adults can't."
"I thought of that too," Harry said softly, leaning into her warm embrace. "I guess, the same thing kind of happened with me. At some point I realized she was one of the few people who knew how I felt. I do very much enjoy her as a student, but only that. I hope you can trust me on that."
"I do trust you Harry. Why would I not." She squeezed him tightly. "Now, come and have some dinner. It's been stirring on the stove for ages."
She led Harry into the kitchen and began quickly clearing things away from the counter and grabbing plates and bowls from the cupboard. Harry noticed she looked oddly frantic as she set things up, as though she hadn't expected him for dinner at all. He reached into another cupboard for glasses, but she quickly shoed him away.
"Don't worry dear, I'll get it. You sit down. You've had an awfully hard day." Harry laughed at the sudden resemblance she had to her mother.
"Why are we eating in the kitchen? Is there something wrong with the dining room?"
"Oh no, I just thought this would be more cozy."
Harry shrugged and smiled at her as she bounced this way and that. Finally the soup had been poured, the bread sliced, and Harry was filling two glasses to the brim with pumpkin juice. Harry's spirits soared as he felt a giant weight had lifted from his shoulders, and he quickly forgot everything that had happened that afternoon. After dinner, Ginny relented when Harry insisted on doing the dishes, and left him to his work. As he stood at the sink, drying the last of the silverware with a hot jet of air from his wand, Harry heard a soft yelp from the next room.
"Are you alright?" he called.
"Fine," came Ginny's voice. Harry peeked around the corner and into the dining room just as Ginny was folding their best tablecloth and hastily stashing it in a cupboard. Curious, he walked into the room to see two place settings and two candles on the buffet, one of them smoking slightly.
"What's going on?"
Ginny yelped again and spun around. "Harry, you scared me."
"Ginny, what are you doing? Why were these candles lit? Did you already have dinner set up in here? Why did we eat in the kitchen then? And why the candles?" Harry thought quickly, trying to remember if there were an anniversary or something he had forgotten.
"Oh… well… I was just…"
"Sweetie? What's going on? You had a nice romantic dinner set up in here. Did I forget about something?"
"No, really, it was nothing. I just… changed my mind." Ginny looked pained and rubbed her hand absently along her side for a moment.
"Ginny, I can tell when you're lying too you know. What's going on? I hope this thing with the book and Emily didn't ruin your evening. Did you have something special planned?" Harry asked.
"Well… I uh…" Ginny looked into his worried eyes and realized he wasn't going to let it rest. "After everything that happened today I didn't want to complicate things further." She studied her toes for a moment.
"Complicate them how? Ginny, what's going on?" Harry asked more urgently.
"Harry…" she walked over to him, took his hands in hers and kissed him gently on the cheek. Cradling his head and rubbing her face against his, she whispered softly in his ear, and his eyes instantly grew to the size of Galleons.