Chapter 15: Know Your Enemy

I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from writing this whatsoever. The Harry Potter franchise is the property of Warner Brother's and J.K Rowling.

"What are you, superstitious? You've got more chance of winning the lottery than running into him!"

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He's being strangled by Devil's Snare... He's looking at his parents smiling at him inside the mirror of Erised... Grindylows are dragging him into the dark depths of the Black Lake... The Grim is staring at him from an alley near Privet Drive... Uncle Vernon is putting bars on his windows...

"Enough, Potter." Snape's cold voice said, snapping him out of the mental attack. "You are improving, but it is still not enough."

Harry grit his teeth. Maybe if the greasy git took it slow, steadily increasing in difficulty, instead of throwing his best at Harry, he'd be up to par much quicker.

Snape looked at him, an odd expression on his face.

"Have you been attempting to clear your mind, every night before bed?" Snape asked.

"Yes, sir." Harry responded.

"Good," Snape said sternly, "now, Potter, I want you to close your eyes and envision a room. The safest place you can think of, put whatever protections you can think of on it in your mind, be creative, Potter."

Harry was confused, these instructions were quite different than any other he'd received thus far from Snape, but he did as told.

"Once you have that room, I want you to imagine your memories in physical form stowed away there. That can be either a lockbox of sorts, or just you, sitting in that room as a representation of your memories."

A brief pause, as Snape let Harry think. This change of tact was shocking, to say the least.

"Prepare yourself, Potter," Snape said suddenly, "Legilimens!"

He was sitting in the dining area of Grimmauld Place, dozens of Order members around him. It wasn't a memory, however, it was his own mind. A thunderous knock came from the door down the main hall, someone was trying to get in! Sirius and Remus both ran to hold it closed. The knocking became louder, stronger, the door was rocking on its hinges now, as if the person knocking was slamming their entire weight against it until suddenly, it burst open. Sirius and Remus were thrown back, and Snape rushed in. Johnny stepped forward, but his head was a flaming skull. He delivered savage blows to Snape, punch after punch against his head, chest and stomach. And then Snape caught one of the punches, was struggling to hold it back. He was growing larger, towering over Johnny now, impossibly cramped as he ran out of room. The dining area was shaking, paintings and furniture were toppling over, and then Snape's giant hand crushed Johnny beneath it, and he locked eyes with Harry.

Dudley was punching him over and over again... Aunt Marge was slowly inflating... He was comforting Hermione after her row with Ron at the Yule Ball... Barty Crouch Jr was raving madly about how he'd be rewarded greatly... He stepped in front of Hermione, blocking her away from Remus in his werewolf form...

"GET OUT!"

Harry was back in Snape's depressing office, he was panting, that experience was like no other.

"Adequate, Potter, though I wasn't going full force, you managed to repel me for a little bit."

Harry openly gawked at what was practically high praise from Snape.

"Still," the potions professor continued, "there is a lot to improve upon. Write down ideas on defences, intricate fail safes, anything you can think of to keep me out. Imagine how it would look every night before bed along with your mind clearing exercises. You are dismissed."

He practically fled from the office, not believing what just happened.

Severus sighed heavily as the boy left. He'd seen too much of Potter's life growing up, it was too distracting to ignore. The way those muggles treated him was disgusting, the look on his uncles face reminded Severus of a similar one usually worn by his own drunken father. He had thought, naïvely, that the boy had grown up spoiled, he had ignored all the signs, how Potter was far too thin, how timid the boy was in front of authority figures.

The first lesson had forced him to reflect for a long time about what he had assumed, and what he now knew. Severus had known Petunia Evans was an envious, petty woman, but he did not think she was capable of this, of letting any of it happen! How could Dumbledore keep the boy there? Knowing what awaited Potter every summer he returned to that horrible house.

Over the following lessons from the first one in mid January, Severus had come to the uncomfortable conclusion that he had been completely wrong about the boy.

But what to do about it now?

Hermione sat in the room of requirement, a smile slowly working its way onto her face.

Kelvin Obe, Devin Lockley, and Jamie Davis all stood before Harry, each one of them varying degrees of nervous.

Harry, for his part, did not try to act intimidating, or rude, he was doing exactly as she had asked from him. He was giving them a chance.

"This is serious," he said not unkindly, "if I'm going to tell you about this, I need your word that you'll keep quiet about it, even from your other friends and family." Hermione saw him look over at Jamie when he said the last part.

The three boys nodded, she had prepped them a little bit before, about just how important this was.

"We run a group after classes," he continued, "a group dedicated to learning how to properly defend themselves, not that rubbish Umbridge teaches."

Hermione repositioned herself in the comfy red chair by the room's fireplace as Harry paused, sighing to himself.

"We call it 'Dumbledore's Army', and whatever you may think about the man, the name really doesn't matter. If you want to learn, to be prepared for the future... this is where it happens."

He was referring to Voldemort, she knew, and Hermione had already spoken to Harry about their opinions on his return. It was half the reason Harry even agreed to see them.

All three boys nodded again, not saying a word.

Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and quill that was laying on a nearby table.

"Sign this," he said, "and you'll be one of us."

Kelvin signed first, followed by Jamie and then Devin.

"Great," Harry said, offering an awkward smile. "Any questions?"

There was an immediate explosion of noise as all three boys asked questions at the same time, none of them relating to Dumbledore's Army. It felt much like their first meeting in the Hog's Head. This time, however, Harry didn't look upset. In fact, Hermione noticed that he seemed close to laughing.

"Is it true you have a Hippogriff tattooed on your chest?"

"Did you really fight one-hundred Dementors with only your fists?"

"Are you and Draco Malfoy secret lovers?"

Harry sputtered out s0mething between indignation and a laugh, even Hermione snorted loudly, barely able to comprehend their words.

"No," he said after catching his breath from laughing, "to all of those. Where did you even hear about any of those?"

"I overheard it from a Gryffindor in my year during a charms class," Kelvin admitted, "if you did have one, it'd be quite cool."

"Georgie McDermitt spread the rumour about it after seeing them swam you from where he was in the greenhouses." Devin said. "He had detention with Sprout."

"Tracey's said it before," Jamie said, "my sister, that you guys have a lot of, er, sexual tension whenever you interacted with each other."

Everyone stared at Jamie, and the boy blushed. "It's just what she said!"

Hermione had to hold back her laughter as Harry looked scandalized.

"Here," she said, saving Harry the trouble of speaking, "take these." Hermione handed each boy one of the custom galleons she made. "Don't spend these," she said, still chuckling, "they'll get warm and buzz when we've got a date down for the next meeting, so always keep them on you if you can."

With that, Harry sent them on their way after checking the Marauder's Map for anyone walking by the entrance for the room. They closed up a few minutes afterwards, once the boys were far enough.

"So," she began slyly, glancing at him as they walked in the direction of their common room, "have you got something to tell me, Harry?"

"Come off it," he grumbled to her, and she laughed.

"I'm not judging you, Harry," she continued, "don't feel ashamed of who you are!"

He sped up ahead of her, which wasn't hard considering Hermione had to stop to wipe the tears out of her eyes.

"H-Harry wait!" She called, still giggling a little. He kept walking, but eventually, she was able to catch up. "Seriously, though, there's nothing wrong with being gay."

"I know that," he said, scowling, "but never mention it with Malfoy and me involved."

She nodded, and they walked in silence for a few moments.

"Is there someone else, then?"

"Hermione!"

"Surtr." She said to the portrait of the Fat-Lady, who opened obligingly after being given the correct password. Hermione recalled the fire giant with perfect clarity. He was an important part of Ragnarok, after all, being the one that destroyed Asgard. Harry followed behind her, heading for a seat near the fire. She was about to follow suit, head still full of Norse myth, when Lavender Brown caught her attention.

"Hey, Hermione," she said cheerfully, standing very close to her side. Hermione wasn't particularly close friends with her dormmates, Lavender and Parvati being a little too giggly and gossipy for her liking, but she knew them fairly well after sharing a room for five years.

"Hello, Lavender," Hermione responded, feeling a little wary. She didn't dislike the girl by any means, but her propensity to gossip was a reputation that preceded her.

"Me and Parvati were wondering..." She said, grinning slyly.

Oh, no.

"Who that boy you were with on Valentine's Day was?"

Hermione had been dreading this. She'd known multiple people had seen them together, but she'd hoped that they would just mind their business.

Lavender must have thought she was too shocked to speak, for the girl continued on hastily. "You see, Parvati is of the opinion that he was the same boy who'd come to the Hog's Head when you were first recruiting for the D.A. But I personally think it isn't; this one has a brown leather jacket, and he's a bit taller and had stubble.

All true things, but Johnny had gotten a little taller since October, she'd noticed, that was all. The stubble was a new development as well... Hermione hoped he never shaved it.

Oh, no. What was she thinking?

"Uh, Hermione?" Lavender asked, looking worried. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Oh, of course," she said, face burning, "he was the same person, Lavender, he's a friend of the Weasley's and met us over the summer." A rather weak lie if anyone bothered to ask Ron, Hermione immediately regretted telling it. She'd have to remember to speak to Ron about it to make sure he knew to not contradict her.

Lavender looked giddy now. "Parvati was right! Wow, he's American, isn't he?"

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding, "from New York City." She'd always wanted to go, the museums and art galleries held so much history and creativity.

One had to be careful when telling Lavender anything, as they whole school was likely to know all about it by the end of the week. Memories came back to her from her years in primary school, having a crush on one of the most popular boys in her grade. Hermione had naively told a rather talkative girl in her class about her feelings, and at the final recess before they were to go home for the day, she was encouraged to confess to him.

Needless to say, it did not go well.

"Is he your boyfriend or something?" Lavender asked, looking rather like Rita Skeeter when she knew she had a scoop.

"No," Hermione said resolutely, "definitely not." She was sure her face was betraying her right now. It didn't bear thinking about, he likely didn't even see her that way.

"Really?" Lavender asked, looking surprised, "I just thought by the way you hugged him, and how pleased he looked, well, I guess I just misread it."

She then walked off back to where Parvati was sitting in the corner, and expectant look on her face.

Hermione, for her part, just stood there a little dumbstruck.

He looked pleased?

"D'you reckon the muggles in New York would even care if wizards revealed themselves to be real?"

He looked down at Tonks where she lounged on a sofa, dressed in grey sweatpants and a loose fitting tank top, her hair an interesting shade of orange. Her legs were resting on his own, putting a distracting pressure on his legs. It was a rare moment that she was able to be here at all, what with how busy work had become after the breakout. She was reading a newspaper purchased from a nearby store, on it was the newest attempt to destroy the world, successfully quelled by the Avengers and their efforts. The Badoon, they were called, or something else equally as dumb. They hardly damaged anything in their invasion.

"I doubt it," he said after a moment, "the amount of shit they've seen, alien invasions, men in flying suits of armor, nothing can surprise them anymore."

Tonks hummed in agreement. "Makes me wonder why the wizarding government there even cares about secrecy, the muggles wouldn't even bat an eye."

Johnny snorted but did not say anything, Tonks clearly did not know the United States government at all.

Hermione could probably spew something out about the various atrocities committed, straight from a book she'd gotten while travelling or something. He could see why Ron found it a bit annoying sometimes. Johnny shook his head absently, he was thinking about her again. He'd been doing that a little bit. Errant thoughts of what she'd think of a situation that was happening in the moment for him, like Sirius finding it terribly funny to wake Johnny up one morning with a blast of water from his wand. (She'd disapprove, and then take the time to dry him off with a spell). To be fair to Sirius, Johnny had flung a dollop of mashed potatoes at him from a spoon at dinner the night before after a particularly godawful pun about his own name.

"I'm serious."

"No you're not, I am!"

A knock at the door interrupted his musings. It wasn't quick and loud like Moody's usually were, and Johnny knew Kingsley was even more swamped than Tonks these days, being a senior auror.

"Were we expecting anybody?" He asked Tonks as he rose from his seat on the couch, pushing her legs off of him.

Tonks too, looked confused. "Nobody said anything to me..."

Molly and Arthur were at their own home, the only other people in the house right now were Sirius - who was feeding Buckbeak - and Karkaroff, who was taking a nap last time Johnny checked.

The knock was so soft and quiet, even Mrs. Black did not wake from her portrait's position on the floor above overlooking the main hall. Johnny walked towards the front door, and peered through the peephole.

The sight of Albus Dumbledore greeted him, the old man was looking around idly without a care in the world.

Johnny was more surprised than angry at the return of the Order's leader. He'd thought it'd piss him off when Dumbledore finally came back, Johnny thought of a dozen hard hitting questions to ask. But now, the only feeling that registered was shock.

He opened the door, because really, what else could he do?

"Ah, hello, Johnny." Dumbledore said politely. "Just the person I wanted to see."

"Really?" He asked a little dumbfoundedly.

"Of course," Dumbledore said patiently, walking inside as Johnny stepped by to allow him in. "It is with the upmost importance that I speak with you about what happened on the night you were attacked." Dumbledore looked at him expectantly then, and Johnny belatedly realized he was expected to speak now, and so he did.

Johnny told Dumbledore about the snake, and carefully omitted Mephisto's involvement. By the end of it, Dumbledore just nodded, as if he'd already known and just wanted confirmation.

"Are you free right now, Johnny?" Dumbledore asked.

"Uh, I guess-" He started, but a sleepy voice interrupted him.

"Who is it, Johnny?" Tonks half-yawned, coming into the hall, laughably underdressed in the presence of their leader.

"Oh," Dumbledore said, looking a little surprised but also amused. "I didn't realize I was interrupting, my apologies, Nymphadora."

Tonks reddened, and so did Johnny at the implication.

"Absolutely not," he said to Dumbledore. She was a bit older than him, not by much, she was twenty-one and he was seventeen, but still. No. He saw her as more of an annoying sister anyway. Besides, he knew she liked Remus anyway, the pining was obvious to anyone with eyes. Even more obvious was how much the man clearly did not return those feelings.

"I could have gone the rest of my life without him knowing my name, Professor," Tonks said, hair now red, face contorted in a grimace.

Dumbledore's smile widened. "It's a wonderful name, Ny-"

"No!" She said loudly, covering her ears and walking upstairs. "I'm going to get changed!" She called down.

"There's no need," Dumbledore said back, "I was just about to leave anyway!" He then looked back at Johnny pointedly.

Johnny nodded, and they walked out the front door.

Johnny landed on his ass in a heavily wooded area a moment later. He despised magical travel.

Dumbledore waited patiently for him to stand before speaking. "We are here in the woods off Little Hangleton," he said, "a quaint town, if one marred by a mysterious tragedy."

None too pleased about the rough landing, Johnny was only half paying attention to the words. That is, until Dumbledore continued on.

"This is the place where Lord Voldemort's parents lived," He said.

Now that, was certainly interesting.

"When you killed Voldemort's snake, Nagini, that night guarding the department of mysteries, it confirmed something for me that I had long speculated." Dumbledore said, leading him through the woods towards a broken down looking shack in the distance.

A group of frogs hopped by, normal looking enough. Snakes slithered passed, hissing up at them but never acting hostile. A raven croaked from an unseen location in the trees.

"I believe Voldemort is using a most ancient and vile form of magic to prolong his life," Dumbledore continued, "something called a Horcrux."

Johnny had no idea what that was, so he kept walking without saying a word, waiting for Dumbledore to keep going.

"A Horcrux can be anything; a pebble, a key, even something alive like a snake. What makes it truly evil is the steps necessary to create one." Dumbledore looked around a little warily this time as another croak from a raven sounded off, closer this time. "Murder, nothing short of cold-blooded murder is required to create a Horcrux, for an act such as that is evil enough to split ones soul and have it latch onto an object. If one were able to create a Horcrux successfully, they could make it into a pebble and toss it into a lake, and it would likely never be found. By doing that, even the killing curse will not be able to defeat you, for someone with a Horcrux will stubbornly cling to life."

"So..." Johnny said, mind racing to take it all in, "so you're saying he's got one then, Voldemort?" It was genuinely a terrifying thought, even to him. How could they win a war against someone they couldn't kill?

"More than one," Dumbledore said as they climbed up a rocky path that was jagged and bumpy. "Almost three years ago, Harry brought me what I now recognize as irrefutable proof of a Horcrux. Tom Riddle - Voldemort's real name - had left a piece of his soul in a diary, designed to allow him access to a person's mind, allow him to takeover for short periods of time and reopen a long hidden chamber at Hogwarts. One that freed a terrible creature and unleashed it on my school. To make a long story short, Harry killed the creature, and destroyed the diary with its tooth, delaying Voldemort's return a little longer."

Johnny knew Harry lived a bit of a crazy life, kind of had to being who he was, but what he was hearing now was absolutely unbelievable.

"I learned then that basilisk venom was able to destroy a horcrux, something I have remembered for today." He pulled a jagged tooth out from his robe pocket. It was grimy and slightly dripping a purple liquid. "You have killed Nagini, that is another Horcrux destroyed as well, and today, we have found a third."

They were finally at the shack, and it looked to be in even worse condition from up close.

"A long and winding trail of memories has led me here," Dumbledore said, "the abandoned Gaunt family home. Once, they were a noble pureblood family, but now, their only living member is Voldemort himself."

Dumbledore walked up to the door, his wand now in his hand. "Voldemort would have put many protections on this place to keep people out," he said, "this may take a while."

He waited patiently for a few minutes as Dumbledore waved his wand around in intricate patterns, the tip of it flashing various colors and slashing them through the air. He occasionally muttered to himself. Johnny briefly entertained the idea of transforming into the Rider and just walking in, but before he could suggest the idea, Dumbledore was done, a small smile on the old man's face.

"Clever, Tom," he said to himself, clearly lost in his own memories. He turned to Johnny. "We should be safe to enter now, I appreciate your restraint and patience to not transform, as that would have alerted Voldemort, thus showing our hand far too early."

He opened the door easily, and entered, Johnny quickly following behind. "But won't he feel us destroying whatever Horcrux is here?" Johnny asked. "I mean, it's his soul we're talking about."

"A good observation," Dumbledore said, "however, it is my belief that Voldemort has been away from these fragmented souls for so long, that he can no longer feel them anymore. At least, the older ones. I'm quite certain he was not very happy with Nagini's death, but we might be in the clear on that one, as I do not believe that Voldemort suspects you knew the snake was a Horcrux, because he has shut himself off from Harry to not reveal his anger at the snake's death - a theory given to me by Severus - Therefore, it is safe to go after the others, as they were made at least over a decade ago."

It was odd to hear Dumbledore acknowledge that a dark wizard knew about him, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

Dumbledore raised his wand forward, and an almost imperceptible wave of energy shot out across the room. At first, Johnny was confused, but then he saw it. Under the floorboards, was a blinking murky yellow light. It was pulsating, and Dumbledore moved towards it. Another wave of his wand, and two floorboards removed themselves.

A golden and black box was there, glinting in what little light that was able to come through the dirtied and cracked window.

Dumbledore performed another array of spells, and then, seemingly happy with what he'd learned, reached into the floor to grab the box. He pulled it out carefully and opened it.

Inside was an ornate looking ring with a black stone in it. Dumbledore's eyes widened considerably at the sight of it, and he made to put it on.

Johnny's hand shot out and grabbed the old man's arm. "Are you fucking crazy? You want to put that on?"

For a moment, Dumbledore looked angry with Johnny.

"You don't know what it could do to you," he continued, "let me just destroy it, you brought me here for a reason-"

"No!"

Johnny flinched as Dumbledore shouted, yanking the ring towards him, his eyes a little manic.

"No," he said more calmly, "This stone - you don't understand, fire would completely destroy it - I-I did not realize..." He trailed off, and Johnny now felt uneasy. The stone was what had him all worked up?

"Use the fang then," Johnny suggested, looking at him warily, "crack it open and take the stone out if you want it so badly, but is ring the Horcrux or not?"

"I... I believe it is," Dumbledore said, now sounding much more like his normal self. "I apologize, Johnny, I did not mean to worry you. This stone is something very important to me... something I never thought I'd obtain."

He slipped the basilisk fang out from his robe, raised it high above his head, and swung down upon the ring, cracking it in half, black smoke fizzled out and the ring gave a muted scream of pain. The stone tumbled out, and Dumbledore was quick to snatch it up,

"We've done it," he said, looking at Johnny.

But Johnny didn't feel accomplished at all, he just looked on at Dumbledore with concern and confusion.

"How many more to go?" He asked.

Dumbledore chuckled darkly. "Three."

Johnny swore.

He was studying in the library with Tracey... a man dressed in an expensive suit shouted a warning to a man in a leather jacket as Harry slithered towards them... His head was being shoved into a toilet by Dudley...

Harry swore, finding himself face down on Snape's cold floor.

Snape himself merely smirked at him, though it did not have its usual malice behind it.

Harry was unsure what to make of this newfound attitude of the potions professor. While the man still clearly took great pleasure in Harry's misfortune, it was not nearly as mean spirited as it used to be. That is to say, Harry still vaguely wanted to hex him, but now with probably just a strong stinging hex instead of one that would make him grow boils everywhere.

"Do not be too hard on yourself, you have been improving." Snape drawled.

"Kissing the floor doesn't feel like progress to me, sir," Harry grunted.

Snape's smirk grew slightly. "It wouldn't, but do not take me for a liar, Potter. As you have been getting more creative with your defences, I have been forced to increase the intensity of my mental attacks. This is a good thing."

Harry refrained from once again pointing out how he'd ended up after the latest attack. He looked up, and was surprised to see that Snape's black eyes were searching Harry's face, but not in their normal scathing manner. They were curious, as if Snape was seeing him for the first time.

"What did you do to warrant your head being shoved into a toilet, Potter?" Snape asked at last.

Harry was so surprised by the question that he made a noise from his throat that was half-snort half cry of indignation.

"Wha - what?" He stuttered in confusion.

"Why did your pig of a cousin see fit to shove your head into a toilet, Potter?" Snape repeated somewhat impatiently.

Where was this coming from? Why did Snape even care? Harry did not know, but he found himself answering anyway.

"For daring to do better in English class, I guess," he said after a moment, remembering the day well. It would be the last time he got higher grades than Dudley while they still went to school together.

Snape looked angry, but not at Harry, for once.

"Potter, I-" he began, but a blood curdling scream from the floor above interrupted him. At once, Snape was on his feet, looking at the ceiling. "What the-?"

There was a commotion above them, and Harry could hear a muffled bang.

"Did you see anything unusual on your way down here, Potter?" Snape demanded, now looking back at him.

Harry shook his head. Somewhere above them, the woman screamed again. Snape strode to his office door, his wand still held at the ready, and swept out of sight. Harry hesitated for a moment, then followed.

The screams were indeed coming from the entrance hall; they grew louder as Harry ran toward the stone steps leading up from the dungeons. When he reached the top he found the entrance hall packed. Students had come flooding out of the Great Hall, where dinner was still in progress, to see what was going on. Others had crammed themselves onto the marble staircase. Harry and Snape advanced through the crowd, and finding himself next to some rather tall Hufflepuff boys, he made it to the front of what was a ring formed by all the onlookers.

Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the entrance hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at something Harry could not see but that seemed to be standing at the foot of the stairs.

"This - this can't be happening!" She cried shrilly. "I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming?" A high girlish voice said, sounding callously amused, and Harry, moving slightly to his right, saw that Trelawney's terrifying vision was nothing other than Professor Umbridge. "Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow's weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable you would be sacked?"

"You c-can't!" Professor Trelawney howled, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, "you c-can't sack me! I've b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!"

"It was your home," Professor Umbridge said, and Harry was revolted to see the enjoyment stretching her toadlike face as she watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, onto one of her trunks, "until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this hall. You are embarrassing us."

But Professor Trelawney merely continued to sob. Professor McGonagall rushed forward from the crowd, bring forth a handkerchief for the Divination professor.

"There, there, Sibyll," she said softly, "calm down, it's not as bad as you think, you won't have to leave Hogwarts."

"Oh really, Professor McGonagall?" Umbridge said in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. "And your authority for that statement is...?"

"That would be mine," a deep voice said.

The crowd parted for Professor Dumbledore, who had not been seen for weeks.

Harry had not felt so utterly triumphant before as Dumbledore smiled politely at Umbridge.

"Yours, Dumbledore?" Umbridge said, giving the most false laugh Harry had ever heard in his life. "May I remind you that-"

"I am well aware of your ability to fire my teachers, Professor," Dumbledore interrupted, "however, you do not have the power to banish them from the grounds, and it is my wish that Sibyll remains at Hogwarts."

Professor Trelawney tried to argue, but Dumbledore would not hear any of it.

Umbridge looked furious, and Harry didn't bother holding back a smirk. A glance to his left showed that Snape too, shared the sentiment, a glint in his eye and the barest curl of his lip.

Albus stared at the black stone sitting on his desk.

He'd found the last one.

Years and years of searching, Albus had pretty much given up after giving Harry his invisibility cloak four years ago. The Deathly Hallows were simply not in the cards for him.

Until today.

He frightened Johnny a little, Albus knew. Perhaps one day soon, he'd explain it to the boy.

Albus didn't dream of taking back Harry's cloak, but just to know that he and Gellert had been right about the Hallows all along was gratifying in its own right.

But there was still one more thing to do.

He picked up the stone gently, and focused.

Something shimmered in front of his desk, the form of a young girl appeared.

"Ariana," he said breathlessly.

"Albus, you dope," she said, looking and sounding the same as he remembered. "When are you going to learn? You can't save everyone."

Just like that, before he could get a word in edgewise, his sister disappeared. But he didn't cry out in anguish, didn't weep. Albus Dumbledore chuckled, shaking his head.

"Never, my dear sister," he said, "never."