Posted 7/15/2014

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This is a work of fiction, based on the book series by J.K. Rowling. Neither do I claim ownership nor do I intend to.


Chapter Forty-Five - The Mirror

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The holiday spirit reigned outside, and in the windows around the small court, lights and candles shone while in the court and under the trees, children were playing and chasing each other. Yet the occupants of Number Twelve knew better than to leave their safe haven. Even after all those months, guards were posted outside, watching for signs of the elusive Boy-Who-Lived.

Ron had growled loudly, complaining about their continued presence, although in part because he couldn't leave until the lookouts were gone. Harry had to agree; didn't they have better things to do?

Hermione had taken to work on delicate potions, claiming the need to restock on healing supplies. Harry guessed she just wanted to keep busy; the fate of her parents was likely heavy on her mind, and Harry hoped they were safe. He hadn't heard anything to the contrary, at least, but Hermione's mind had probably begun conjuring horrifying scenarios. With the Grangers being Muggles, they were excellent targets, and Harry found himself hoping for the best.

Daphne had changed, though, and mostly for the better, in Harry's opinion. Daphne hadn't visited him in the night since she had told him about her fears, but they had exchanged pleasantries during dinner, and just the day before, he had shown her his training room on the second floor. She had also taken to call him by his given name, something his friends had been very surprised about. She also acted more openly towards Harry, but not them, which he found funny. True to his word, he refused to give them more than a short explanation about coming to an understanding with her. Hermione had needled him for details – which he kept from her, no matter how often she asked – and Ron had frowned and warned him about a possible ploy by the crafty witch. They were probably too used to reserved Greengrass keeping her distance, but Harry knew Daphne had finally started trusting him a bit; he also knew better than to gamble that trust by revealing what he had learned during their talks. Under the guise of boredom, he had started renovating the house, in part to make Daphne's life easier and more comfortable and to show he did care about her well-being, but it was surprisingly difficult – the Blacks had put up so many wards and enchantments that even something as simple as fixing the wallpaper required careful preparation to work around existing magic. While Hermione had found it a delightfully interesting challenge, Kreacher had spent about as much time helping as he had grumbling about the changes. While it was still a work in progress and far from the most important project, Daphne had picked up on Harry's intentions – it seemed to have contributed the her sudden friendliness towards him.

That had been more fun than it should have been, Harry mused, glancing at the grumpy woman huddled under a tree outside – one of their guards for the day. Not only did Harry like talking to Daphne and see her opening up a bit, it also unnerved Ron who refrained from saying anything, preferring to throw suspicious glances. Maybe it had been for that reason that Daphne and Harry had started acting slightly more familiar with each other than they were in reality, in Harry's case partly to see how long it would take for Ron to crack. Daphne was probably the same. It was no secret that Ron distrusted her and anyone from Slytherin, and Harry was pretty sure it was in large part due to his rather annoying prejudices. While Daphne had certainly not made a good impression during the first weeks, Harry also knew she wasn't evil. Harry knew Ron could be very unpleasant to people. He'd laughed about Neville's accidents – Harry had as well, if he was honest – he had ridiculed Luna at least once despite her being odd, but nice. Similarly, Hermione had taken months to stop mocking Luna's beliefs to her face. But both Luna and Neville hadn't held it against any of them. And Hermione had found it in her to forgive Ron for his numerous insults or insensitive moments, one of which had almost led to her getting killed by a Troll. Granted, Harry mused, it had helped somewhat that Ron had come to her rescue, and if the debacle of the Yule Ball was any indication, she'd forgiven more and faster once she had started fancying Ron. And she had forgiven Harry for equally not acknowledging her as a girl.

Hermione and Ron; Ron and Hermione. Their dance around each other had been somewhere between an amusing sideshow and annoying in the past. It had been amusing to see Ron get jealous over heartthrob Krum. Their shouting match afterwards had been very enlightening. In fact, it was somewhat of a shame that Hogwarts hadn't had another Ball yet, if only because Harry hadn't had a chance to see whether Ron had understood Hermione's anger and realized her wish to go to a ball with him. Then again, Harry was also quite happy there hadn't been another ball yet. For one, if Ron wouldn't have asked Hermione to a ball, he'd had needed good reasons not to or Harry would have been forced to take Hermione's side. If he had asked, however, Harry would have felt compelled to make sure Ron would have been on his best behaviour – a choice between two friends either way. For another, it would have meant finding a date for himself – Harry hadn't been that successful the last time, and he doubted he would have been that much better the second time.

He really didn't have the best history of dealing with girls, Harry reflected. He'd angered Parvati and by extension Padma, his failed relationship with Cho had caused more trouble than it had been worth, and given enough time, he'd certainly find some way to hurt Daphne's feelings, pushing her away again and losing weeks of progress of getting her to open up.

Was it odd that he listed Daphne with his date to the Yule Ball and his... whatever Cho had been? He didn't want to call her his girlfriend, so maybe his first crush was the most accurate. So, was it odd to include Daphne in that list and not among his friends, some of whom – Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Tonks – were girls? There was little doubt that Daphne and he were friends, so she should be on one of those lists. But then, that night Daphne had confided in him about her worst fear had also made him aware of something else. True, he had known he was married to her. He had also known that she was a girl in the same way that he had known Hermione was a girl back in fourth year. He hadn't noticed it with Hermione until she had pointed it out to him; he blamed their friendship for that. He'd become aware of it all on his own with Daphne. He had already felt a connection to her before, yes, but that night had made him aware that she was indeed female. She did look female, for one, and she did have that secret smile from time to time; she had that aura of distinct femaleness he hadn't noticed before – he didn't know how he could have missed it, really – and after he had become aware of it, Harry had trouble pushing the truth out of his mind. Daphne was indeed a quite attractive girl – a young woman, actually – and his wife. Maybe it was just the general air around the house with Ron and Hermione dancing around each other that caused that awareness; they created a strange mood of anticipation. It had been there before, a tension, like heavy air before the rain. It hadn't bothered Harry much before; their lives were their own, and he had other things on his mind. Now, however, it did. Daphne was a young woman – gruff most of the time, perhaps to keep people at a distance, but also rather nice.

Ron's comment from fourth year popped into Harry's mind about picking a girl based on looks alone. Ron had been an idiot, Harry thought with a chuckle. Cho and Parvati were pretty, but he hadn't had a fun time with either for one reason or another. No, looks alone were worth nothing when you didn't get along.

A car passed underneath, spraying a gangly, pockmarked boy no older than twenty reading a newspaper. The water seemed to run off him without problem. Their watch was slacking, Harry noticed, and wondered how long they would either come or give up entirely. Why didn't they give up? For months the house had been watched, yet no one had been seen around, so why hadn't the guard been called off?

The front door opened, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Leaving his spot, he walked downstairs, finding a beefy, bald man with an impressive beard standing in the hallway.

"Ask away," he grumbled, pulling his trousers up a bit.

"The last thing I got from my godfather?" Harry said, wand trained on the man.

"The last object he gave you in person was that mirror, the last he gave you in his life was the chance to survive by sacrificing himself, the last you received from him were all his worldly possessions. Unless, of course, you consider Smith's book about the mind arts a separate thing, which you received afterwards, but seeing as how it should be part of the Black possessions you got as part of the inheritance, it shouldn't count." It was Hermione all right. He lowered his wand.

"Good to have you back. Everything went all right?"

She frowned, which looked very natural to the man. "I brought what we'll need to last a while. I just hope they won't be too angry about the theft. I mean, I would have left some money, or I could have made two trips, but..."

"I know. My idea, remember?"

"There is something else, though." Even through the grumble of the man's voice, he heard Hermione through. "When I was there, I noticed some people looking at me oddly. I'm not sure, but I think they might have noticed something was off. And then there was this." She pulled out a Muggle newspaper. "It was sheer luck I saw it, really. See here? A mysterious murder, thought to be connected to a drug cartel. The father is missing, likely abducted, but the mother and the children were found dead."

"No sign of damage, I presume?"

"Far from it. There are little details in the report, but it has Death Eater written all over it. The report says drug cartel, but that sounds more like a cover-up than anything."

Harry leaned back and against the wall. "You think so? You think they're on the move again?"

"Look, Harry, it might be coincidence, but it's highly suspicious." She was in the middle of changing, a mix between man and woman, old and young.

"We'll keep an eye open, then," he told her. "Anything else?"

"The weather forecast predicts mist," she replied, smiling wryly.

Harry chuckled humourlessly. After over a year of strange mists popping up all over the country without any explanation, that prediction was no surprise or risk for the papers. Harry had hoped the Dementors would be reined in once the control over the country was in their hands with their strings being pulled by Lord Voldemort. Then again, the last week had seen another attack on the full moon, likely by Greyback. No survivors, the newspapers had written, but Harry wasn't so sure about that. He could see Greyback using the opportunity to bolster his numbers.

"They've adapted quite well, haven't they?" Harry mused. "Even though they don't know why it's happening..."

"They write it into their forecasts?" Hermione finished his thought. "Yes, that's true."

Just then, Ron came marching up from the kitchen. "Oh, good. You're back. Anything important?" He sounded about as bitter as was to be expected, still being stuck in the house. Ron was not made to sit still and inside.

"Nothing concrete, luckily," Hermione told him. "But I fear they might have found our trail. There were people looking at me strangely, I think it is quite possible they've figured out how we are staying afloat, so..." She glanced around nervously. "You could help me unpack," she said, suddenly more decisive, as she nudged Ron towards the kitchen.

"Have fun," Harry said, ready to leave, but Hermione cleared her throat.

"You could help us," she said glancing towards Ron who gave a small nod. "Between the three of us, I'd be a lot faster. And... we miss spending time with our friend." She sent Harry a meaningful look.

"Well, fine," he gave in, following both of his friends into the kitchen. When he entered, Hermione was already busy putting up privacy spells as well as an alarm on the stairs. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about," she explained, "and I thought it might be better to keep it between the three of us for the time being. Here's the Daily Prophet." She put the paper down on the counter. "It's finally in there," she added, tapping a spot on the first page.

Glancing down, Harry began to read out loud, "Terrorist strike on the Ministry, three casualties." He looked up. Hermione raised an eyebrow, a fat sausage in her hand, urging him with an impatient wave of the free hand to continue, while Ron was busy unpacking. "According to reliable sources, earlier this week, the office of the Muggleborn Registration Committee within the Ministry of Magic was the target of a terrorist attack, killing three workers and wounding numerous others. Out of respect for the families, no names were given. While the investigation is still going on, a connection to the killing of another esteemed Ministry official is likely. 'We are still at the beginning of our investigation, but the similarities are too many to discount a connection,' a Ministry spokeswizard stated late last evening. 'If this is the case, then we are at war. If this was the work of the same terrorists, then the Ministry itself is under attack, and with it all of Wizarding Britain. We urge anyone who has information to do the duty of an upstanding citizen and step forward. If these attackers are indeed willing to declare war on Wizarding Britain, we are certain they will soon learn the power we as a proud society possess.'"

"Three people, Harry," Hermione broke in. "Three, not one."

He pursed his lips. "Well, it didn't go as smoothly as I'd hoped."

"Not as... Harry, one was already questionable," Hermione argued. "Three is a bit too much, don't you think?"

"Hermione's right," Ron added. "Killing's bad news for everyone. And if they think you're declaring war on the Ministry..."

"Then they'll think that," Harry interrupted him. "I can't change that. Well, I hadn't planned for it to end up like this..."

"Three dead," Hermione reminded him. "I should hope you hadn't planned for it."

"Well, they seem to think it was an attack against the Committee. It could be worse. Those other two will either be seen as collateral damage or part of my tactic. Let's hope the Ministry will conclude it's the latter."

"You can't be serious about that," Ron spoke up after a moment of silence. "Collateral damage?"

"Well, I can't change what happened, but... yeah," Harry defended. "Maybe they were decent people who just happened to work in the one office that is tasked with hunting and punishing Muggleborns. Maybe they were jerks. Either way, I can't change it. Right now, they're working for the enemy. They might even be the enemy. Maybe this attack'll keep the Committee from working for a while. Less trouble all around. Wouldn't that be even better than just sending them a warning?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged uneasy looks.

"There's something else," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"It's about the war," Ron added hesitantly.

Harry kept from rolling his eyes. "Fine. What is it about, then?"

Hermione fidgeted and busied herself with unpacking more of the supplies. "Well, we're staying hidden to give us time to prepare, and we understand that. You might not be ready yet to end it, but shouldn't we," she hesitated, "shouldn't we plan for it in any case?"

"Yeah," Ron spoke up. "Most of the time, you keep to yourself. That, or there's Greengrass around."

"I'm," Harry began, but Hermione raised her hand.

"It's not about her," she told him. "Whenever we do sit down to talk or plan, it involves your attacks on Death Eaters, but not the general war. Shouldn't we start thinking about a schedule some time? About what still needs to be done to bring down their master instead of...?"

"Pruning a tree," Harry offered, to which he got a thankful smile. "Well, I don't think there is really much to talk about, to be honest. The snake first, then the Head Hypocrite."

"We know that much," Hermione pointed out, "but that's not a lot to go on. We can't wake up one morning and decide, 'Well, why not kill the snake?' We'll need a bit more. How are we supposed to get to the snake?"

"How will we get away?" Ron added.

"How will we kill the snake without giving away that we know about its true nature?" Hermione continued. "And we don't have a large margin of error. It has to work on the first try; it has to work, full stop. It may require some preparation, and maybe we should start thinking about it."

"And how about some other plans just in case?" Ron brought up. "In chess, well, you have to plan ahead, but you also have to think about what the other player might do. We can't just storm their hide-out."

"Right," Hermione said, sending Ron a smile, "and that's ignoring that we don't know where he's hiding at any given time."

"Snape might know," Harry pointed out half-heartedly.

"Assuming he can tell us," Hermione began, only for Ron to interrupt.

"And that he'd tell us, git that he is," Ron added, grumbling.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Assuming he isn't bound by some oath or something similar, we still wouldn't have all that much time to act before Riddle moves to another place. There wouldn't be enough time to make a decent plan in such a short amount of time, I think, so we'd need to be ready to act on a moment's notice."

"So, a schedule," Harry replied, sighing. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's time to flesh it out a bit, but there isn't really much to say right now. So, as for Nagini, we'd need to know where she is. We'd need to know how to get to her, how to kill her without drawing attention, and how to escape without getting caught." He leaned back, thinking. "As for the first part, Snape's our best bet. Maybe he can't tell us where his master is, but we don't have many other sources."

Hermione nodded. "So we'd have to get Professor Snape involved. Fine. He might give us some idea on how we might get to the snake, so let's ignore that and how we'd get there and escape. Until we know where she'll be, we can't really make any plans about that."

"How do you kill a snake?" Ron spoke up, scratching his head.

"How do you kill a snake without making it suspicious?" Hermione corrected.

"That's what I meant," Ron told her, rolling his eyes.

Harry intervened before they could start an argument. "There are many ways to kill Nagini, but the second part is a lot trickier. I'd say we could make it look like an accident, but..." He shrugged.

"This is too serious for jokes, Harry," Hermione pointed out.

"True, but... Nagini's a snake. She doesn't have that many enemies who'd want her dead specifically. The Death Eaters go out, they make enemies. There are a lot of reasons why someone might want to kill another human – greed, revenge, the feeling of power, to silence a witness. None of those really apply to a snake."

They looked at each other until Hermione sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. "Fine. What about Riddle, then? If we can't storm their hide-out to get to the snake, I doubt we could attack them to get to Riddle either."

"We could try some creativity," Harry reminded her. "Snape could drop off a bomb. Undetectable Extension Charm, a bomb hidden in whatever we can hide it in. Wasn't that your idea from February?"

"I hadn't meant it seriously," Hermione replied. "And I doubt he opens his mail himself, so we'd need a lot of explosives to get him. It'd leave a lot to chance, and we might kill Professor Snape as well."

"You're acting as if that'd be something bad," Ron laughed, but he glanced around nervously.

"Well, fine," Harry conceded. "We'd need to make sure Riddle is really dead in any case. Fine. So Nagini first and Riddle after that. Maybe some of his followers on the way, but I'm not quite sure what you're expecting of me here. It's not like we can really make solid plans; it's mostly simple goals we're dealing with. Plans, you say."

"Yes, something so we can work towards it," Hermione told him.

"Well, if you have an idea..." He blinked as he felt something in his pocket warm up. Hermione and Ron exchanged a quick glance, and as if on command, all three pulled out their enchanted, linked coins. Still warm to the touch, the message on them was still fresh.

Found it. Want to talk? – N

After a moment of stunned silence, Harry and Ron dashed from the room, Hermione in pursuit. Running up the stairs to the second floor, they stormed into Harry's bedroom. Except for one detail, everything was as it had been that morning. Instead of showing a dark corridor with unremarkable odd and ends, the mirror showed three faces grinned back.

"Hey, Harry," Neville greeted with a small wave. "Sorry it took so long. The Carrows were quite intent on keeping an eye on us as much as possible."

Harry stared back, trying to commit the faces to memory. Neville had a few noticeable scars and bruises; his eye was swollen. To his left stood Ginny. Her robes were a bit ruffled. A small scar ran over her nose and she had a split lip. To Neville's right stood Luna. Part of her face sported a burn, and the hair next to it was singed.

Despite everything, Harry felt himself smiling at his friends. "Good to see you again," he told them. "Looks like we have a lot to talk about."

Meanwhile, Ginny sent her brother a short nod.

"That we do," Neville agreed. "You have to thank Ginny that we can, actually, she found the second mirror." He stepped aside to make room for the redhead.

"It was nothing, actually," she said, trying unsuccessfully to look humble. "We spent many hours looking through the trash in the room, and yesterday, I thought, 'Well, what if the mirror is somewhere high? Maybe it's hidden behind some other stuff.' So I grabbed a broom and flew around a bit. I found it that way. Just luck, I guess. We were bound to find it one day, after all."

"Well, it was still good work," Harry told her with a nod, making her smile. "Have you figured out how to close the connection yet?"

"Don't want us peeking in your bedroom?" Neville guessed with a grin.

"Something like that," Harry replied. "It'd make putting your mirror somewhere else a bit less problematic."

"We've thought about that," Ginny spoke up. "We're not quite sure about Luna's dorm mates."

"They're nice most of the time," the girl added in her dreamy voice, "but they don't help us."

"Right," Ginny continued. "And we think Neville is under constant watch. It's just Seamus and him in there right now. True, Seamus is a Prefect right now, but the Carrows might not trust either of them."

"They've searched my room more than anyone else's," Neville said, chuckling.

"So," Ginny added, scratching her chin, "we might have to bring it to my room for the time being and hide it there. There's one that's pretty similar to this one – Demelza's, in fact."

"How's she doing?" Harry asked, thinking of his old teammate.

After a moment of silence, Ginny replied, "Fine. She's distanced herself from us, though, and plays the obedient student. At least once she's told on me."

"On my orders," Neville added with a glance at a frowning Ginny. "Anyone who's close to us is being watched, anyone who's keeping their distance might avoid suspicion. If having some of our allies running free means us getting in trouble, so be it."

"That's a risky plan, though," Hermione spoke up. "It can backfire if someone looks too closely and sees the pattern there... or really turns on you."

"Ah, don't sweat it," Neville said. "No one knows about it apart from those in on it. No one knows who else is involved – Demelza doesn't know Seamus looks the other way some of the time and vice versa. As long as they keep their involvement secret..."

"Someone might still find it out," Harry pointed out.

"There's nothing in writing for them to stumble upon," Neville argued, "and we're careful with what we eat or drink, so unless they can enter our heads..." He broke off. "They can do that, can't they?"

"Possibly," Harry agreed with a wry smile.

"Legilimency," Hermione added, "the art to enter someone's mind and extract any secret they want to. It's difficult, but not impossible."

"It's also forbidden to learn," Harry told his friends, "but..."

"Yeah, as if the Death Eaters'd care about that," Neville laughed humourlessly.

"What's going on at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked. "We're hearing very little about that."

Neville exchanged looks with Ginny and Luna. "Well, I... Well, fine. We're busy trying to cause trouble whenever we can. The Carrows are trying to stop us, naturally, and it's becoming increasingly harder to get away with it. In September, we started with ten supporters."

"It didn't help that many from Dumbledore's Army are already gone," Ginny pointed out. "And some like Dean were Muggleborns, so they're missing as well."

"Right," Neville agreed. "In October, shortly before the altercation with Greengrass, we had about thirty-eight people here or there. After that, well, some of them began second-guessing. Right now, we're seven we can count on somewhat." He chuckled. "It's us three, of course, even if we're watched constantly. Then there's Waters from Hufflepuff."

"She played Chaser last year, right?" Harry asked, remembering the girl.

"That's the one," Neville agreed.

"She's playing this year as well," Ginny added. "I'd have loved to show them what Gryffindor can do, but I was banned from playing." Ron cursed loudly despite Hermione's admonitions, and Ginny nodded with a sour face. "That was Snape's idea. Pretty much everyone who might have been any good was banned. Demelza's Captain now, the only one with even a hint of experience or talent." She grumbled something unintelligible, but Harry caught the gist of it and frowned.

"So Snape's trying to keep Gryffindor out of the competition, then," he said, nodding. It made sense.

"He gave Gryffindor a chance to play at all, I think," Neville mused.

"It's been over a century since one of the houses had been forbidden to play at all, though," Ron said, glaring at the wall. "And back then, they had tried to kill a teacher."

Neville shrugged. "That's the least of our concerns, though. It's war in here as well. They got rid of Professor Babbling..."

"We know," Hermione replied, "and replaced her with another Death Eater."

"Hastings, yes," Neville said. "Can't tell you much about her, though. I don't think she's leaving her office much."

"She's tutoring some people," Luna spoke up. "She carefully picked those she offered her help to. Her regular lessons are lacking, though."

"So only those who might help their cause are actually taught what they might need," Hermione concluded, "and everyone else is intentionally kept out of the loop. Why does that sound so familiar?"

"Business as usual, one might say," Neville laughed, rolling his eyes. He hesitated. "There's also something else, though. I'm... not sure whether you heard about it, and I hadn't wanted to coin you. The Daily Prophet kept it quiet for the most part, but..."

"Hagrid," Harry sighed.

"Right," Neville said after a moment. "I'm sorry. There was nothing we could have done. It was only afterwards that we learned about what had happened. It made eight people return to our side, but it didn't stick, unfortunately. Susan and Hannah – Bones and Abbott, I mean – they stuck with us the longest. Susan slipped us the criminal records of the Death Eaters here, don't know where she got them, and we wrote the charges around school, but the Carrows figured out who was behind it, I think. They..." He hesitated. "We had a Hogsmeade weekend a few days ago – Christmas shopping. Hannah and Susan didn't return." Hermione groaned next to Harry, but Neville continued, sending her a small smile, "We don't know what happened, but shortly after, Professor McGonagall indicated all further Hogsmeade weekends would be cancelled, and that the Carrows had been furious. We think Susan and Hannah managed to get away, but we don't know and can't check. They are missed in any case.

"So now it's us three, Waters from Hufflepuff, and she brought Aidan Knight – her friend, I think. Doesn't talk much, but does his job. They're both all right, I guess, but they don' t hold a candle to Davis and Bulstrode." He chuckled, watching Ron gape and Hermione blink rapidly. Harry tried to collect his thoughts.

Ginny shook her head. "Didn't see that one coming either," she told them.

Neville nodded, "I didn't believe it when they came to us. I thought it was a ruse, but they've proven themselves."

"They're not suspected," Luna pointed out, looking at the frame of their mirror, "and they're missing their friend Greengrass and hoping to hear from her. They help because they've found something to fight for. It's love and revenge, I think – lovenge."

"Can't say I expected that, but it's good to know," Harry said, clearing his throat. "It makes things a lot easier, I guess, and takes a load off my shoulders. I've tried figuring out how to do it for a while... Please warn Bulstrode and Davis to be careful around Malfoy..."

"You mean because he lost it?" Ginny asked, sending him a long look.

"Err, something like that, yes," Harry told them. "So you've figured that out already. I mean, of course you have."

"Hard to miss, really," Neville replied, chuckling. ""Nowadays, he's mostly calm. Eerily calm, in fact. He's gotten some of the students to work for him, and they're running around causing problems wherever they go. It's not them we have to worry about, though. Those who openly side with him are easy to manage; it's those who secretly support him that are a danger since we have to be careful about whom to trust. Malfoy, yes, he's a problem for us here. Then again, whether he had something to lose in the first place..."

Harry raised his hand. "It's not important right now. I wanted you to pass a warning on and make sure they stay safe. He might vent his anger at Daphne on them." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hermione and Ron tensing, but wasn't sure whether they were worried about Davis and Bulstrode or because he had referred to Daphne by her first name. He suspected the latter.

An ugly look passed Ginny's face. Luna nodded, humming to herself.

Neville pursed his lips. "We thought as much already," he said, frowning. "We're already keeping an eye on him and his minions. But we'll pass the warning on, don't worry."

"Who sent the warning?" Luna spoke up. "Is it from your wife?" She ignored the strange looks she received.

Harry blinked, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why he was surprised. Of course Luna would know Daphne was with them; if there was anyone Harry had ever met who would mysteriously know things, it was Luna.

"About equal parts from her and me, yes," he told them.

"So she's alive then? You were behind her dropping off the face of the earth?" Neville asked tentatively.

"I might have had a hand in that," Harry replied, smiling.

"Of course he was," Ginny snorted, a strange admiration on her face. "Harry can't let anyone die, and if anyone can do the impossible and just know when and where he's needed, it's Harry."

"How's she doing?" Neville continued.

Harry shrugged. "Well, better. Hermione patched her up. She's mostly keeping to herself and preparing for her revenge on Malfoy. Not sure when it will be, but with a bit of time, she should beat him soundly. If she wants revenge, I'm not going to stop her. One less Death Eater to worry about, isn't it? Other than that, she's healed up and ready to be unleashed on the wider world."

"Well," Neville spoke up, scratching his chin, "that's good to know. I can't promise Malfoy'll be around any more when she's ready, not if he's forcing our hand, but... Well, if she wants Malfoy, she can have him for all I care. So she's with you, then?"

"We're providing shelter for her, if that's what you mean," Harry compromised. "You know how I am about my allies. She has pointed out that she didn't join the resistance, on the other hand."

Neville frowned, obviously thinking about Harry's words. It was strange seeing him weighing the words carefully, and it made Harry happy to know the resistance at Hogwarts had such a competent leader at hand.

"She's your responsibility," Neville decided. "Your decision, but it's not completely unexpected, to be honest. She didn't strike me as the daring type and more concerned with keeping safe and out of the way. That's what I gathered from the way she dealt with the contract business, at least."

"Let's not waste any more time on her, what's going on with you?" Ginny interrupted, smiling weakly. "We know even less about what you've been up to."

Harry exchanged a quick look with a hesitant Hermione and a moody Ron. He knew they were all thinking along the same lines – what could they tell their friends and family?

Hermione took it upon herself to find the right words. "We're hidden, you know as much. We're preparing for the war and trying to stay out of trouble. Right now, we're trying to advance some plans and prepare for what will come. We don't know how long it will take until we can make the change everyone is waiting for."

"We know almost nothing," Ron grumbled. "No one tells us anything."

After a moment of tense silence, Harry said, "At least something good came of this day – it's nice to see you again. All of you. Now we can keep in contact."


Perhaps he should change his schedule, he wondered. He knew the spells, he could perform them, and for all his work with the memories, he learned less each week. Tom had settled on his preferred skills around the time he was reviewing at the moment. Oh, he did pick up the occasional trick here and there, but compared to earlier years, there was a lot more action and less learning. Another matter and problem for Harry was the chaos that was left. At first, he had gotten a huge amount of already partially integrated knowledge. Harry had known about the Horcruxes, so those memories had been easy to fit in. Harry had known about a lot of the Death Eaters, so those names and faces were easy to remember as well, and from there, their comrades were also recalled without difficulty. Harry had more than fleeting knowledge of the schoolwork, so a lot of those memories had been sorted right from the start. After that first assault of fresh memories, Harry had worked chronologically, week after week, year after year. It made sense and worked decently for a while until Harry had reached Tom's mid-thirties. Integrating those memories had become gruelling work as the different branches of magic started to blend together. And then, he had had to integrate Runes and Arithmancy on the side, just so he could understand what Tom had been thinking. Since then, Harry had followed those random thoughts and inspirations, sometimes to a brilliant breakthrough, other times to failure or an amusing outing with Tom's followers to kill or torture some people. Instead of an ordered recollection, he was left with odds and ends, and roughly twenty-five years of them. With less spells to train, maybe he should increase his reading? It made sense, Harry mused. If he wanted to have an advantage against Lord Voldemort, he needed something the older man had not learned yet, unless Harry wanted to trip him up with superior reflexes.

The Black family library would have to have some secret he could use, right? There had to be something he just hadn't found yet in one of those books.

Still lost in his thoughts, he walked into his training room, only to find it less empty than he had expected. Greengrass stood there, cursing one of the dummies idly.

"I heard Granger return," she said. "I guessed you would come up here."

"And I did," he agreed. "What do you want?"

"We have both been training for weeks, each on our own," she began, and he could already see where she was heading with it. "I want to test my strength against something else than parchment or flower pots or conjured birds. I want an enemy to see what I can do, really, and how far I still have to go."

"It wouldn't be a fair fight," Harry tried, but she waved it off.

"Not if you don't follow the rules, no," she agreed with a challenging eyebrow. "Then it wouldn't be fair, so you'll just have to stick to the rules and everything will be fine."

"Rules? I wasn't aware fighting had rules," he pointed out.

"It has," she replied, stretching slightly, "or else, how could you ignore them in a serious fight like you advised me to. Just to make sure you don't cheat; no wandless magic..."

"It's not cheating," he protested.

"No deadly spells, naturally," Daphne continued as if she hadn't heard him, "although Stunners and the like are fine. It's about accuracy and speed, not about overpowering the other." She smiled at him, happy with herself.

"It's still not really fair," Harry said, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"We'll see about that. So come on, duel me and show me what you can do!" She dropped into a duelling stance he recognized as fairly advanced. So maybe she had learned a thing or two.

"And then you'll leave me alone?" he asked, pulling his wand.

"You haven't won yet. And remember..."

"No cheating, no wandless magic, yes." He mirrored her, choosing a weak stance. If she wanted to duel and test her abilities, he had little reason not to see just what she was capable of, especially since he was curious about her skills. He knew what to expect from Ron and Hermione, but Daphne was still an unknown factor to him.

They watched each other, both looking for an opening in the other's defences. Daphne cast the first spell, a tickling hex he easily sidestepped, waiting for the follow-up. He hadn't misjudged her, and her petrification spell sizzled against his shield, followed by what looked like a disarming charm that missed him. The irony wasn't lost on him as he danced around the room, blocking or evading her barrage of spells.

She was good for her age, he had to admit. He remembered better duellists, of course, even without Voldemort's memories, and her style still left room for improvement, but she was doing fairly well. Her speed was adequate; she had focused on nonverbal casting and a constant stream of a wide variety of spells. Blocking a Stunner, he had to stumble to the ground to evade a vicious-looking curse he preferred not to be hit with even if he didn't recognize it.

"Stay still, damn it!" she yelled at him from across the room, sending a petrification his way, followed by a fountain of water.

Harry rolled away, still only defending. Still, her speed acceptable for a follower – applying the standards of Harry, not Tom, granted – so she should do fine against one of Voldemort's chosen. And he was also happy to notice she didn't rely on harmless prank spells.

Another opening, he noticed as he read her body language while she tried to douse him. Yet there was a certain elegance in her movements – whereas Hermione moved efficiently, relying on solid stances she changed between and a strong footing, and Ron used simple, powerful stances that reflected his stubborn nature, Daphne slithered this way and that, teeth ready to strike.

Blasting himself off the ground with a spell, he evaded a cutting curse that might have cost him some fingers or perhaps a hand; he shielded against a Stunner and had to fall sideways, a banished book passing where his head would have been moments earlier.

He was fed up; it was time to change the tactic. Defending had rarely been Tom's forte – Why defend in the first place? That was for lesser beings – and Harry's patience had grown thin once he had seen enough. He swished his wand, and a cloud of birds burst from his wand. Hidden from view for a moment, he began his counter-attack. Switching Stunners, Disarming Charms, Petrifications and bothersome hexes, he forced her back step by step by his own stream of spells. Slow at first, he increased his speed. The fight changed, their roles switched. She was forced to defend; he was on the offence. Her defence was less advanced, Harry realized, not surprising if she had only trained against birds and other conjured animals, but she still did fairly well with her snake-like movements.

Dodging a desperate cutting curse of hers by inches – a complete surprise and very promising to see her try something of her own – that took off the tips of his hair, Harry used conjuration once more. Clumps of snow, tightly packed, appeared around him, circling in wide arcs. A few Stunners sent in her direction later, he added a few more snowballs.

"No you won't," Daphne yelled, throwing a wall of fire at him. So that was why he liked her, Harry thought with a grin, sending a single snowball towards her in a wide arc. The rest he sent at her fire, and their forces met in a cloud of steam. It wasn't enough, of course, not to protect him, but it was enough to buy him time – he threw himself to the side. His single snowball reached her and hit the side of her head. It was enough of a surprise to commence his final attack. Stunners rained down on her, and, too fast for her to notice, he animated the floor underneath her feet. It trembled, she lost her footing –

He hit her before she could stop it.

"Not that bad," he conceded, watching her wipe the blue paint from her face. True, her aim was off some of the time, and she seemed to have a problem with incorporating defensive spells; the latter was probably the result of training against targets that didn't fight back, the former something she needed to improve on, but it was a start.

"I almost had you," she argued.

"Hardly," Harry replied. "But not bad. You could move a bit more fluidly if you wanted to, I think, so you'll get rid of the last edges, but apart from that, you're not bad. There's something, though; whenever you have to shield your left, your aim is off on the next spell."

"I still would have had you," she spat, both the words and a bit of paint. "It was only a question of time until I would have had you."

"Another round then? All out?"

She glared, but got to her feet, panting slightly. "This time I'll trounce you." She dropped into her stance.

Harry sank into one of the forms Tom had learned on his travels on the continent.

Again, Daphne began the fight, following her first Stunner with a Babbling Hex and a Disarming Charm, all three more powerful than any other spell she had cast at him. Anger, it seemed, lent her more strength. If so, then he shouldn't have to worry about her fight with Malfoy.

He shielded against the first and the last, intentionally taking the Hex. He didn't need to talk, after all. Instead, he retaliated. She evaded more gracefully than necessary, almost dancing out of the path, shielding against his next spell, a Stunner. It was all the distraction he needed. Wordlessly, he conjured a dog and sent it at her – a second attacker for her to worry about. She vanished the animal easily, but before she could do anything else, a heavy blow threw her off her feet and against the wall behind her.

"Tabelda fefernin a nedanbleda," Harry told her with a straight face. And, shaking his head, he added, "Plegphra jar adudon kabenpo munil, par donao dor."

"If I lift the spell, will you shut up?" she groaned.

He shook his head. With a swipe of his hand, he lifted it himself. "I already said it, not that bad. Another mistake you make, though. Your speed is good, but you are too focused on one enemy. Vanishing the dog? Why not send it against me? Or, if you wanted, turn it into a wall or blow it apart to act as a cover for a while? You also work almost exclusively with spells. Stunners, Disarming Charms, Cutting Curses will help a lot, but they can be blocked. Why not use some conjuration of your own? You're not the only one not used to dealing with more than one enemy."

"Well," she replied, shaking her head, "I'll have to keep it in mind. Conjuration in battle, hmm."

"It does open a lot of opportunities for you, yes. Unless you have a problem with it," Harry told her, but she waved him off.

"Hardly. Transfiguration is one of my favourite classes, along with Charms." Seeing his look, she added, "I know I should say Potions, but my House loyalty does have its limits. I prefer a wand."

"Switch it up, all right? You were doing better in the beginning, actually, before I fought back."

"Another round," she demanded.

Harry rolled his eyes, but walked to a position somewhere to the side, ready for the next duel.


Well, seems like Harry and Daphne are making progress now. Also, yet another communication channel has been opened, even if it's just another to the school again.