Chapter 29 – Forcing the Issue
The morning after Harry's vision saw Jean-Sebastian Delacour gathered with his wife and Sirius Black in the Ambassador's Mansion, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was happening with Harry. He had always known that Voldemort had an unhealthy fascination with his ward, but things were becoming a little too personal and close to home for the French Ambassador.
The night before, after Harry had been sent back to his bed for the rest of the night, Jean-Sebastian had immediately Floo contacted Sirius at his residence in France, and his friend had Flooed to England through the private Floo connection Jean-Sebastian had installed at the mansion as a safety exit. Together with Apolline, they discussed the situation long into the night, finally deciding that they had to approach Dumbledore to obtain the answers—if anyone knew them, it was the Headmaster.
They were preparing to go to Hogwarts the next morning, and Jean-Sebastian's mind was working over the events and the answers he wanted from Dumbledore, but he was concerned about their ability to obtain the answers in the face of the man's obvious reticence. In particular, a snippet of the previous evening's conversation stood out in Jean-Sebastian's mind.
"You know Dumbledore will not give up his secrets lightly," Sirius said while leaning back and rubbing his eyes tiredly.
Jean-Sebastian peered sharply at his friend. "He would try to keep as important a matter as this from us, Harry's guardians?"
"It's the way he is," Sirius reply with a shrug. "During the first war with Voldemort, he played his cards very close to his vest."
"You would fight for a man who did not trust you with knowledge you needed to fight effectively?"
Though Sirius did not dispute Jean-Sebastian's words, he did attempt to explain his reasons for following the Headmaster. "Dumbledore was the only one who was doing anything. It was a dark time. You could never know who was secretly allied with Voldemort, and the Ministry was fighting a losing battle. Dumbledore gave us information at certain times which helped us fight the Death Eaters, but the most important secrets he kept to himself."
Considering Sirius's comments, Jean-Sebastian was not impressed with this knowledge. A firm believer in the necessity of people knowing what they were fighting against and what they were fighting for, to Jean-Sebastian such secrecy was almost incomprehensible. Perhaps it was better that he remove his family along with Harry back to France to protect them. He decided to wait until after the conversation to make any decisions, but given the events of the previous evening, he knew that a refusal by the Headmaster to be explicit could very well push him in that direction.
"You must not think that Dumbledore is evil, or that he deliberately conceals things that others need to know," Sirius spoke up again, interrupting Jean-Sebastian's thoughts. "There are times when his reticence can be maddening. But there are also some things which I believe he keeps to himself because they are vital to our efforts and to prevent the enemy from gaining an upper hand. He just sometimes takes this to extremes."
"Well, he had better be prepared to share with us," was Jean-Sebastian's firm reply.
"If he doesn't, he'll have me to contend with," Apolline stated, her voice low and menacing.
Now Jean-Sebastian understood that Dumbledore had fought against the darkness for a good part of his life, and that he had fought the good fight, and emerged victorious more often than not. However, he could not countenance such secrecy in the man, not if he was to be effective in protecting not only Harry, but his family, and those under his employ at the manor. In a sense, all those who had followed him here from France had put their lives on the line in supporting him in his role as ambassador. And as for Harry, Jean-Sebastian was genuinely impressed with the young man and wanted what was best for him. If there was anything in Dumbledore's secrets which affected him, he had a right to know, and Jean-Sebastian would be damned if he allowed Dumbledore to obfuscate and hold onto his secrets like a man adrift at sea holding onto a branch of a tree. To effectively oppose the darkness, it was necessary to share all pertinent information. And in the back of his mind, Jean-Sebastian was feeling a certain measure of guilt that he had kept the prophecy from Harry, especially so soon after promising that he would be open with the young man. That needed to be rectified.
A quick Floo call later and Jean-Sebastian and Sirius were stepping through the Floo to Dumbledore's office. Fortunately, Jean-Sebastian had convinced Apolline to remain at home with the children rather than accompany them—his wife, though intelligent and thoughtful, possessed a fiery temper, which in a large part was a trait of her Veela heritage, and Jean-Sebastian doubted her ability to remain calm in the face of what he suspected Dumbledore would have to tell them.
"Jean-Sebastian. Sirius," Dumbledore greeted them as they stepped through into the Headmaster's office. The elderly man appeared exhausted, as though he had been up most of the night. And Jean-Sebastian suspected he had, with the news which Harry had sent to him the previous night, and the efforts he knew the Headmaster had been making to keep the situation as quiet as possible. "I cannot say that I'm surprised to see you here this morning."
"Nor should you be," Jean-Sebastian responded. "Sirius and I are very concerned about the situation with Harry and we need to know what is happening. The place Harry described in his… vision, sounded like the Hall of Prophecy. Can we assume that his dream had to do with the prophecy you referred to last summer?"
Dumbledore nodded. "I suspect it did. Nagini seems to have been a scout and she came across Arthur by chance."
"But what was Arthur doing there in the first place?" Sirius asked.
"Members of the Order have been keeping an eye on the hall," Dumbledore responded. "Though I did not know that Arthur was going to check on it last night, from what I understand, he was working late, trying to complete some tasks before the holidays, and decided that it would be the perfect time to check quickly and make certain nothing was amiss. It was simple coincidence that Nagini happened to be there at the same time."
Sirius and Jean-Sebastian shared a look. "He's after the prophecy?"
"I can only assume. He must realize that he does not have the full text, and rather than risking another confrontation with Harry, he must be determined to know the full contents. Harry has stood up to him several times and lived, after all. That must be difficult for one of Voldemort's ego to take."
"Is the prophecy in danger?" Jean-Sebastian demanded. "Should we take Harry in to retrieve it?"
"I would recommend against that at this time," was Dumbledore's firm response. "Nagini appears to have been an advance scout and the magics protecting the prophecy orbs are ancient and powerful. It will take some time for the dark lord to circumvent them.
"Besides, taking Harry to the Hall of Prophecy would almost certainly attract attention and there are certain… elements at the Ministry that remain ignorant of the prophecy. It is in our best interests to keep it that way."
It was obvious that Dumbledore was referring to Fudge, though the existence of the prophecy was best kept from everyone who was not currently in the know. And Jean-Sebastian could not fault Dumbledore's logic—the man had clearly thought this through and his reasoning was sound. This was not what Jean-Sebastian had come here to know, and as such, he was more than willing to drop the subject in favor of more important concerns.
"Very well," said Jean-Sebastian, after receiving a silent nod of agreement from Sirius. "That is not what we wished to discuss this morning anyway, though it is good that you are keeping us advised of what is happening with the prophecy. I am more concerned over the fact that Harry dreamed the attack, but also that this is not the first time that he has seen Voldemort in his dreams. Would you care to explain what you know of this most troubling phenomenon?"
"It is not unknown for powerful wizards to see a glimpse of future events. Harry may have a slight gift of prescience, which allowed him to witness what he did."
It was clear that Dumbledore was prevaricating and Jean-Sebastian was in no mood for his attempts to put them off. "You are correct, but that is not what has happened in this case," Jean-Sebastian replied, unable to keep the gruffness and impatience from his voice. "Harry clearly stated that not only did he witness the attack, but that he saw it from Nagini's point of view. For a time, he even had difficulty separating himself from the snake. That is not a prescient vision, Dumbledore, and the other times he has seen Voldemort do not fit into your explanation either."
The Headmaster sighed and he leaned back in his desk, wearily rubbing his eyes. After a moment, he replaced his half-moon glasses, and peered back at them, clearly not wishing to have this discussion.
"It appears that Harry has a… connection—for lack of a better term—to Voldemort."
"And what does the snake have to do with it?" Sirius asked.
"Nagini is Voldemort's familiar, and as such, if Harry has a connection with the dark lord, then logically, that connection extends to the familiar."
There was just enough hesitation in Dumbledore's answer that Jean-Sebastian knew, even if he had not already suspected, that the man was not telling them everything.
"Would you care to speculate on exactly what this connection is?"
"I'm not certain it would be prudent to do so at this time."
Jean-Sebastian glared at the Headmaster with some asperity, noting through the corner of his eye that Sirius was exhibiting the same frustration. "Headmaster," he began in a very deliberate but determined manner, "Sirius and I are responsible for Harry's welfare and we are not able to perform those duties to the best of our ability with incomplete information. If you know something, I insist you tell us."
The look with which Dumbledore pierced them was unexpected, laced with frustration, and perhaps a little resignation. However, it clearly spoke to the fact that they had convinced him to share his secrets with them. Or maybe it was more that they had given him no choice—Dumbledore was a wizard who had grown accustomed to keeping his secrets and making the decisions he deemed best. But Jean-Sebastian was not one to simply follow blindly; if Dumbledore wanted that sort of follower, he would have to look elsewhere for it.
Drawing his wand from somewhere within his robes, Dumbledore shot off several spells in succession. Jean-Sebastian, who was watching the old wizard closely, was impressed by the extensive array of privacy charms, imperturbable charms, and wards—it was apparent that this was of grave import to the Headmaster.
"I can tell you what I know," Dumbledore began in a hard tone, "but for the most part, I only have guesses at this point. If I am right, then this knowledge could mean the difference between victory and defeat. If Voldemort were to learn what I suspect, it would become much more difficult to counter what he has done. I must have absolute assurance that you will not spread this knowledge to anyone!"
Jean-Sebastian turned to Sirius and, seeing his acceptance, turned back to the Headmaster and gave him his assurance, though with a caveat.
"I will agree with you given one condition," Jean-Sebastian finally answered, noting the stern glare of disapproval the Headmaster directed at him. It was clear that he was not used to being contradicted.
"If I do not accept your terms, then I will not share anything with you," Dumbledore stated. "This matter is that important and it is already against my better judgment to be telling you of it, let alone anyone else."
"Harry needs to know, Albus," Sirius spoke up from Jean-Sebastian where he had remained silent to that point. "And before you start in on how he's still just a child and cannot be burdened with the responsibility, keep in mind that he has not been a child for a very long time. He's much more mature than either James or I was at his age, and his experiences and other recent events have greatly accelerated his experience."
The belligerence drained away from Dumbledore, once again making him appear tired and old. "I was afraid you would assist on this."
Dumbledore sat in his chair, seemingly staring at nothing, but Jean-Sebastian could tell that he was furiously considering the situation and presumably the ramifications of revealing to the young man what Jean-Sebastian thought they should. Jean-Sebastian sympathized with him and given that this was obviously a weighty matter, could not fault him for his caution. But it was right—somehow, not even knowing what Dumbledore was to impart to them, Jean-Sebastian knew deep within himself that Harry needed to know this information.
Jean-Sebastian glanced over at Sirius, but while the other man did not speak, he shook his head. As Sirius knew Dumbledore better than he, Jean-Sebastian decided to let him work through his thoughts.
Finally, Dumbledore appeared to come to some resolution, and though he did not appear happy about it, he once again focused his attention on them, his manner serious and grave. "I will tell you what I know and agree that Harry should be told. However, once you are aware you may agree with me that it should be kept from him."
"We will see," was Jean-Sebastian's firm reply, "but I doubt it."
"You also know that anything you tell him, he will tell your daughter and Miss Granger?"
"I suspect," Jean-Sebastian admitted, "but I know that Fleur can keep it to herself, and Miss Granger has struck me as an intelligent young woman, who is completely devoted to Harry. I think we can trust them both to remain quiet, especially if Harry's welfare depends on it."
Sirius laughed his agreement. "You've got that right. Those two are almost joined at the hip. If there are any secrets about Harry which could hurt him, Hermione will keep them as close as you or I. And given the tone of Harry's letters, his closeness with Fleur appears to be approaching the same level. I doubt you have anything to worry about with either of them."
It was with a frown that Jean-Sebastian considered Sirius's words. It was uncomfortably close to some observations Jean-Sebastian had made of Harry and Hermione the previous summer, and at certain times he had seen them since they had left for Hogwarts. They were close; Jean-Sebastian had known this from the beginning, since Sirius had spoken to him about enacting the betrothal—he had wanted to know if he was interrupting any childhood romances for Harry should he go through with the betrothal. While Sirius had glibly laughed it off, telling him that Harry was not attached to anyone, Jean-Sebastian had thought his answer a little too pat at the time, and that feeling had not faded when he had witnessed Harry's interaction with the young witch. Was there something more than just friendship between them?
It did not matter, Jean-Sebastian decided. Harry was well able to determine his course of life, and as marriage to Fleur did bring its own… unique set of problems—as Jean-Sebastian was acutely aware—if Harry chose a path different from the one he himself had chosen, then Jean-Sebastian could not fault him for it, especially if he did possess feelings for the girl. It was better to not get involved—Harry was trustworthy, and Fleur was more than mature enough to manage her own affairs. That did not mean Jean-Sebastian did not want to know what was happening between them, and he suspected he knew just who to ask…
"Very well," Dumbledore was saying in response to Sirius's words. "But truly the fewer people who are aware of this, the better. Jean-Sebastian, I assume that you will wish to inform your wife, but other than that, no one is to know. Am I clear?"
Once he had extracted the required promise, Dumbledore was all business. "Now, you must understand that I have no proof, and I do not know that there is a way to obtain the required proof. However, I have a set of circumstances that rather neatly fit my suspicions."
Taking a deep breath, Dumbledore looked each of them in the eye in turn and continued, "I believe that Harry's scar is no ordinary scar. In fact, I suspect that on the night his parents were murdered, that Voldemort created a Horcrux which inadvertently lodged itself behind Harry's scar."
"Mon dieu!" Jean-Sebastian exclaimed in time with Sirius's, "Merlin!"
Grimly, Dumbledore nodded. "I take it you are aware of the nature of a Horcrux?"
"A soul anchor," Jean-Sebastian responded. "A method a dark wizard will use to try to cheat death by imbuing a portion of his soul into an object, thereby keeping his own soul from passing on to the next life when he dies. To enable himself to detach a portion of his soul, he has to commit the most offensive crime, which is the most damaging to his own soul—he has to murder someone in cold blood."
"Are you serious?" Sirius exclaimed in horror as Jean-Sebastian finished his explanation. "I found some references to Horcruxes in the Black family library and knew it had something to do with soul magic, and was particularly foul, but I didn't know it was this bad."
Dumbledore's eyes snapped to Sirius and he peered at the other man with a blazing intensity. "There are references to Horcruxes in your family's library?"
"References, yes. But nothing more than that, to the best of my knowledge. My family has been dark for several centuries, after all."
"They must be destroyed," Dumbledore stated decisively. "Knowledge of this magic must be eradicated at all costs to prevent others from making use of it."
Holding his hands up in acquiescence, Sirius said, "I agree with you, Dumbledore. When I was there last year, I went through the books as something to keep me busy. Anything with dark magics or anything I thought was cursed, I set aside and sequestered under the family wards. That will do until we have time to do a more thorough investigation."
"Agreed," said Dumbledore, before he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "I am rather surprised at both of you knowing of Horcruxes."
"I was Director of France's DMLE for a time," Jean-Sebastian responded. "Knowing of dangerous magics like Horcruxes was part of the job."
"I understand. But I'm sure that you can now see why this information must be kept a secret."
"I can," began Jean-Sebastian, anger beginning to build within him. "But I must admit that I wonder why you have never told Harry of this."
"What was I to say, Jean-Sebastian?" Dumbledore snapped. "I couldn't exactly tell him that I believed he hosted a portion of a madman's soul when he arrived at Hogwarts at the age of eleven. Besides, I cannot be completely certain and I did not wish to burden him, especially since I do not yet know how to remove the Horcrux."
"I suppose not," Jean-Sebastian agreed with some reluctance. And he had to admit the Headmaster had a point. But the situation was now changed and Harry much better able to bear the burden; and besides, the young man deserved to know something which would have such a profound impact on his life. "But you do believe it can be removed."
"Every magic can be countered, Jean-Sebastian," Dumbledore rumbled, slipping into professor mode. "You should know this. I have not yet discovered a way to remove it, but that does not mean that it does not exist. And ever since I began to suspect this I have not been idle—I have picked up every book on dark magic or esoteric treatise on the soul that I can find, and explored every lead I was able to uncover in an effort to locate a counter-spell. I recently received a tip of several more books for which I have great hopes."
"So Harry is a Horcrux and until he is free of it, Voldemort cannot be killed," Sirius summed up the situation. "Well that's just bloody great."
"That's actually a fallacy," Jean-Sebastian stated. When Sirius looked at him askance, he explained. "Nothing prevents Voldemort from being killed, it is just that he cannot pass on until the Horcrux is gone."
"That may be even worse," was Sirius's glum reply.
"And unfortunately, Sirius, I believe it is much worse than that," Dumbledore stated.
"Worse?" Sirius exclaimed. "How can it be any worse?"
"Simply, I don't believe that Harry's scar is the only Horcrux the dark lord created," was Dumbledore's quiet response.
As Jean-Sebastian and Sirius looked on with dread, the Headmaster produced a small key and opened a drawer on the side of his desk. He produced a small diary from within its confines and placed it on the top of his desk between them. It was small and black, and its pages were warped. It had a large whole in its center, appearing like it had almost been burnt through the leather and paper. It was charred and tattered, and from the chair in which he sat, Jean-Sebastian fancied that he could detect a miasma of evil oozing from the ruined book, almost like the distant smell of a dead animal which had been left to rot in the hot summer sun.
"This is a Horcrux?" Jean-Sebastian asked softly.
"Was a Horcrux," Dumbledore corrected. "This is the diary which Harry destroyed in his second year, after he killed the basilisk. I believe this diary is the first Horcrux which Voldemort created during his years at Hogwarts."
Jean-Sebastian immediately understood the implications. "Mon dieu! How many of these abominations did he create?"
"Of course I only have guesses and conjecture," Dumbledore replied. "But given what I know of the dark lord, and knowing his skill in Arithmancy, I can speculate that he would have used a number which was significant."
"That would mean three, seven, or thirteen," Jean-Sebastian said with a nod.
"Correct."
"Hold on a moment," Sirius interrupted. "How could he make so many? Making a Horcrux splits the soul. After the first he would only have half a soul, a quarter after the second, an eighth after the third, et cetera. How could he split it so many times?"
"Ah, and that is what most would think," Dumbledore responded. "But unfortunately, your assumption is another fallacy. No one really knows the nature of the soul for certain and I do not wish to go off into a tangent, but even if a piece of the soul is broken off from the rest, you cannot assume that it is split exactly in half. My research suggests that actually the soul is fractured into many smaller pieces, and that one of these is drawn off to create the Horcrux, leaving the rest in the body. With a little time, these pieces will once again grow together, though the soul missing a piece of itself renders the creator a little less human each time he creates another."
Considering the situation and what Dumbledore had told them, Jean-Sebastian knew there was potentially no limit to the number Voldemort may have created, other than his own will to continue to pursue his "immortality." "So he could have created many."
"I don't think so," Dumbledore responded. "Though of course I cannot predict with any degree of accuracy just how much information he was able to unearth regarding Horcruxes, he may believe what Sirius stated about how much of the soul is consumed in the creation of a Horcrux. At the very least, I think he would have been cautious of creating too many, given the effect even one has on the person. I believe that too many would leave the creator as almost unrecognizable as human, and quite possibly completely insane. Voldemort fears death and wishes to live forever, but not at the expense of his sanity."
"Three or seven then?" Sirius asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "My guess is seven, including the portion that still resides in his body. If it was three, then with Harry and the diary, there would be no more. I suspect, however, that he has used various enchanted items of great significance to create his Horcruxes, almost in the manner of trophies. I am searching for some confirmation on what I suspect, but have no further, more concrete information to share with you at this time. At the very least, I also suspect that Nagini, his familiar, is also a Horcrux. He appears to have much more control over the snake than he would if it was just a simple familiar."
"But that could then be the reason why Harry was able to dream of the snake," Jean-Sebastian exclaimed. "If they both have Horcruxes in them…"
"That is possible," Dumbledore conceded. "But really immaterial, in any case."
"So what do you plan to do?" Jean-Sebastian asked, knowing that he would give his full assistance to whatever Dumbledore intended.
"I shall continue to search for Voldemort's Horcruxes, and destroy them when I find them," Dumbledore told them. "In the meantime, however, we have other important tasks which must be completed, convincing the Minister of the threat of the dark lord, and moving the Ministry to war footing in order to oppose him, being highest on the priority list."
"Like we have any hope of doing that," Sirius grumbled under his breath, and privately Jean-Sebastian agreed with him.
"Fudge's obstructionism makes it difficult, but we must persevere if we are to hope to counter the Dark Lord," said Dumbledore. "But of more immediate importance is the fact that the secret of the Horcruxes must be safeguarded. Harry's connection with Voldemort is potentially a very dangerous security link, and it must be closed if he is to know the secret. I do not believe the Dark Lord is aware of the connection as of yet, but should he learn of it and know that we are aware of his Horcruxes, it could be disastrous."
"Occlumency?"
"In a word, yes. If Harry applies himself, he should be proficient enough very quickly to withstand all but a concentrated frontal assault, which could only be done if they are in close proximity with one another. I can have him start working with Severus once he returns to the castle after the New Year."
"Albus, are you barmy?" Sirius demanded. "Snape hates Harry with a passion, a sentiment which is returned in equal measure, I might add, and rightly so."
"I am aware of the antipathy between them, Sirius, but I believe that Severus is most capable of doing this. And if I order him to do so, I believe he will set aside his feelings and do as I ask. He wishes for Voldemort's defeat as much as we do, I assure you."
"No," Jean-Sebastian contradicted. "Sirius is right, and I will not allow this man any more authority over Harry than he already has."
"Jean-Sebastian, I understand your reticence in the matter of Severus and his relationship with Harry," Dumbledore said in a soothing tone of voice. "But Severus is very skilled and is more than capable of teaching him properly. I cannot do it myself as I have far too many other items to deal with—Severus is really the only choice."
"Not the only choice," Jean-Sebastian disagreed. It was time to be firm—Snape could not be allowed to instruct Harry in so delicate and critical a matter. "Fleur can teach him. She has been learning Occlumency for several years now and is now quite skilled—I began teaching her before she attended school. I will speak to her and ask her to teach Harry when he returns to Hogwarts."
Even Dumbledore had to admit that this was a superior plan as, regardless of whatever hold he had over Severus Snape, it would logically be easier for Harry to learn from someone he trusted. They agreed that Jean-Sebastian would approach Fleur to enlist her help, and that they would begin when they returned to school in the New Year.
"Then I believe we have our plan," Dumbledore stated.
"We do," Jean-Sebastian responded, before fixing Dumbledore with a knowing look. "When did you intend to inform Harry?"
"I believe it would be better to wait until after Christmas," Dumbledore responded somewhat reluctantly. Jean-Sebastian knew he had been hoping that the discussion had changed their minds about the need to inform Harry, but Jean-Sebastian had to give the man credit for not obstructing them any further. "This will be Harry's first Christmas with your family, and I would prefer to wait until after to burden him with this so that we do not ruin his enjoyment of the holidays."
That in and of itself told Jean-Sebastian that, whatever mistakes he had made with Harry in the past, Dumbledore had the boy's best interests at heart. He agreed that there was nothing lost in waiting an extra ten days or so and let the matter drop, and soon he and Sirius took their leave and Flooed back to the Ambassador's Manor, and Sirius, subsequently back to Chateau Delacour. Jean-Sebastian sat wearily in the chair at his desk, considering all that he had learned that morning. The whole situation had suddenly become a lot more complicated, and there was nothing he could do about it, though his every instinct screamed at him to leave England behind and protect his family. But his course was already set and honor—not to mention his sense of loyalty to Harry and his own common sense—dictated that he stay the course.
Having had a full day to catch up on sleep and to come to terms with the vision he had seen, Harry woke on Thursday morning feeling much better than he had the previous day. The thought of being pulled into the mind of a large, mutant attack snake was still frightening to be sure, but he had been able to at least console himself with the fact that some good had come from it. He was truly fond of Mr. Weasley and was happy he had been able to do something to help his friend's father. In fact, Hermione was arriving with her parents to the manor that day and Harry had obtained permission from Jean-Sebastian to go and visit him today before they were to depart for France on the following day.
Hermione arrived by Portkey late in the morning with her parents in tow, and was welcomed to the manor by the Delacours. Harry, of course, was excited to see his friend, though they had only been separated for a few days, and was greatly anticipating the coming holidays—he just knew it would be the best holiday he had ever had.
"Wow, someone is excited!" Hermione said with a laugh once Harry had completed his rather exuberant greeting.
"I'm always excited to see you, Hermione," Harry replied with a grin.
He turned to greet her parents politely, and was afforded the same warmth in response. Her parents, William and Elizabeth, were friendly and open, and insisted that there would be "none of that Mr. or Mrs. Granger stuff," instead telling Harry that he should call them by their given names. William was tall, slim and athletic, and possessed a certain air which projected confidence, not to mention a little intimidation, for anyone who would possibly take a fancy to his little girl in the coming years. That it may be Harry himself who would ultimately fall into that role, if Fleur's wishes came about, was not exactly a comforting thought. It was even more uncomfortable to consider it when Harry thought of the fact that in the Christian Muggle world, monogamy had been an accepted practice for many years, and that they would not likely accept such an arrangement with any degree of sanguinity. Elizabeth, by contrast, was warm and friendly and extremely engaging, not to mention being a carbon copy of Hermione, possessing the same brown hair and warm brown eyes, not to mention her height and facial features. Though to be completely accurate, Harry supposed that it was Hermione who was a carbon copy of Elizabeth, rather than the reverse.
After a few moments of polite conversation, the three teens—accompanied by Gabrielle, who tagged along behind them—excused themselves and left the room to go catch up on the events of the previous few days. Hermione had not had anything remarkable happen in her first few days away from school; she had mainly occupied herself by spending time with her parents and getting some Christmas shopping done, though she was laughingly adamant in not spoiling the surprise of what she had purchased for them for Christmas. Harry was well aware that she was not about to share such intelligence with him, but he teased her about it anyway, earning himself a mock-serious reproof in response.
When the conversation turned to what had happened at the manor, it became much weightier. His explanation of the dream and the actions he had taken to inform the Headmaster and his guardian of the attack prompted sympathy from Hermione, and a little deeper hero-worship from Gabrielle, who had not managed to wheedle the story from him the previous day. She was more than a little perturbed at the fact that she had slept through all of the excitement, regardless of Harry's protests that he wished it had never even happened.
"That's awful, Harry!" Hermione commiserated once he had completed his tale. "But thank goodness you were able to help Mr. Weasley."
"Yeah, that's the good part of it, I guess."
"It will be okay, Harry. Remember, you have Fleur and me looking after you. Voldemort wouldn't dare try anything!"
"Why?" Harry teased with a grin. "You'd study him to death if he tried anything?"
Hermione sniffed with disdain. "I'll have you know I am more than capable of hexing his bits off if he doesn't behave himself."
The conversation was light and silly, but it provided Harry with exactly what he needed—a relief of stress and a little lighthearted banter at the expense of what had been a very serious situation. Harry suspected that Hermione well knew what he needed and had provided it deliberately. She was such a good friend—he was not sure what he ever would have done without her.
Later that afternoon, the group, including Harry, Hermione, Fleur and Jean-Sebastian, gathered together to Floo to St. Mungo's where Arthur Weasley was staying and due to be released the following day. Harry was looking forward to seeing the jovial wizard, and replacing the last image he had of the man with something infinitely happier.
They arrived at the hospital and were directed toward the room in which Mr. Weasley was staying. As they walked, Harry looked around with interest, noting the white walls and narrow hallways. With the exception of the lack of electronic equipment which would have been a fixture in any modern hospital, St. Mungo's was not very different than any hospital he would have seen in the Muggle world.
They rounded a corner and approached Mr. Weasley's room, and as they were walking, the door opened and the Weasley matriarch stepped into the corridor. Her face lit up in genuine pleasure at the sight of Harry, though he did notice a tightening of her eyes when she glanced at his companions. At his side, Harry could almost feel Hermione stiffening as she saw Ron's mother—she had not seen the woman since the infamous howler had arrived, after all, and Harry knew that her feelings for Molly Weasley were somewhat less than cordial. Molly did not acknowledge Harry's companions—she instead ignored them completely and approached Harry with a large smile on her face, and with her arms held out wide for one of her infamous hugs.
Neatly sidestepping her, Harry held up his hand and, catching Jean-Sebastian's eye, he motioned for the man to precede him into the room. The older man seemed to catch his meaning as he shepherded Hermione and Fleur from the corridor, leaving Harry with a confused and slightly flustered Mrs. Weasley.
"Harry?" she said with a small frown. "Is something wrong?"
"Unfortunately, there is, Mrs. Weasley."
She smiled at him and patted his arm. "What is it? I will do whatever I can to help."
"I certainly hope you will," was Harry's response. He kept his voice calm and even as he was speaking, knowing that she would likely not take kindly to what he had to say. But though he was only fifteen, and she would undoubtedly think that he was overstepping his place, she needed to hear this.
"You see, Mrs. Weasley, I could not help but notice your rather cold greeting toward not only my betrothed, but also to my best friend."
Her eyes narrowed and she peered at him with some affront. "I assure you that I was not unkind to them."
"No," Harry agreed, "but you have been unkind to them, especially to Hermione with that howler you sent to her. And to be perfectly blunt, you've never apologized to her for that, even thought you publicly humiliated her in the Great Hall in front of all the students."
"Harry Potter!" Molly screeched. "I will not have you reprimanding me! You are just fifteen years old and should remember your place. I raised you better than that!"
"You didn't raise me, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied in a quiet voice. She was taken aback, to the extent that she almost physically took a step back, and her face fell. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but it's the truth. I spent two weeks with your family before second year, and two more before fourth. I'm sorry but four weeks out of the fifteen years of my life does not qualify as you 'raising me.'"
Molly sputtered at this, but could come up with nothing to refute his claim, as it was the simple truth. Instead, she glared at him and snapped, "You should be more grateful that we took you in and treated you like one of our own!"
"I am very grateful," said Harry. "I needed friends badly, and your family provided them. And though it was only for a short time, you also provided a loving, nurturing environment, and I appreciate it very much."
"But now that you have family," she spat the word resentfully, "grander than the Weasleys, you have thrown us over entirely. I should have expected it, I suppose."
"And that is where you are wrong," Harry responded, still keeping his composure, but injecting a hint of steel into his tone. "I still consider Ron to be one of my best friends, and Ginny has become more of a friend since the summer. I don't think I even need to mention the twins—even though you think they are wild and lack seriousness, they are the best friends a bloke could hope for. I would not be here if I had 'thrown you over.'"
"Then why are you giving me this attitude, young man?"
"Because you hurt my friend and haven't apologized, and you continue to treat my betrothed as though she is unworthy. Nothing could be further from the truth," Harry emphasized. "Fleur and her family are among the best people I have ever known and I am honored that she is now my intended."
Though she said nothing, Molly's affront was evident in her stiff posture and her scowl of disapproval. Harry did not want to offend her or belittle her, but he was more than willing to take her to task for her behavior. It was a mark of how much he had changed. The old Harry Potter would never have spoken this way to his friend's mother; it would have seemed too much like talking back to his uncle—something to avoid at all costs, due to the man's temper.
"Mrs. Weasley, I want to maintain good relationships with your family, and I think I have for the most part. But I also require you to treat my intended with the respect she deserves and apologize to Hermione. Until you can do so, I don't think we have anything further to say to each other."
"I suppose you want a public apology?" Mrs. Weasley accused in a dispirited tone. "Perhaps I should send another howler apologizing or take out an ad in the Prophet?"
"How you do it is your choice, of course," Harry said. "But I don't necessarily think that humiliating yourself is required. But an apology needs to be made directly to Hermione, however you accomplish it."
Having had his say, Harry nodded to his friends' mother and entered the room, leaving her in the corridor, looking downcast and staring at the floor.
The mood in the room appeared to be somewhat tense as the Weasleys in attendance—besides Mr. Weasley, the twins, Ginny, and Ron were all there—appeared to suspect what had kept him. His easy greeting to the entire room served to dispel some of the stress, while Mr. Weasley's answer and predilection to joviality went a long way toward restoring equilibrium to the room.
"Well here's our hero!" Mr. Weasley joked, showing a large smile to Harry.
Blushing slightly, Harry responded, "I'm no hero, Mr. Weasley. I just happened to be in a position to send a bit of help."
"Ah, but you are a hero to me, Harry." He leaned forward and extended a hand, which Harry grasped firmly in his own. "Thank you for once again coming to the aid of me and my family. I truly appreciate it, young man."
"Oh Harry, you're my hero too!" one of the twins piped up in a contrived tone of worship.
"Simply dreamy!" exclaimed the other.
"We're so thankful for your manliness and your tendency to save us from monsters!"
"But I really think you've gone about it all wrong."
"Too right, Gred," continued the first, with a sly wink at his brother. "You're supposed to slay the beast first."
"And then ride off into the sunset with the fair maiden."
"You've already got the maiden," said Gred, with a sly wink at Fleur.
"But you've still got some work ahead of you for the rest!"
Mr. Weasley shook his head at his twin sons. "Can't you two ever be serious about anything? Even your father's savior?"
"Of course we can," said Forge agreeably.
"But the tension in the room needed deflating," agreed Gred.
"You've been saved, all is well, and it's time to let the gloominess go!"
"Hey guys," Harry said, pointedly ignoring their byplay. He also greeted Ron and Ginny in the same manner, before sitting on a nearby chair. "How are you feeling, Mr. Weasley?"
"Pretty good now, actually. I get released tomorrow, so I'll be home in time for Christmas."
"Christmas in St. Mungo's!" spoke up one of the twins. "That would be pretty bad."
"For once, I have to agree with you, son. Happily, I won't have to experience it."
Tactfully, after thanking Harry for his assistance, Mr. Weasley proceeded to let the matter drop, which was truly a relief for Harry. He did not feel as though he had done anything heroic, after all—he had merely seen something in a dream and acted upon it. Anyone could have done the same in his position.
The visit continued for some time and though the atmosphere might have been gloomy in other circumstances, it was quite cheerful for the most part. Mr. Weasley spoke of his latest interest in Muggle contraptions, the twins were their usual irrepressible selves, and laughter and conversation abounded between them all. Ron and Ginny privately extended their thanks to Harry, after which they spoke of their plans for Christmas.
They were nearing the end of their stay before the door to Mr. Weasley's room opened and Mrs. Weasley walked in, followed by a tall, red-haired man, who bore a remarkable resemblance to the Weasley patriarch.
"Bill!" Harry greeted him, remembering fondly the previous year when Bill had come to Hogwarts to watch the third task.
"Hey Harry," Bill stated as he walked over and grasped Harry's hand, enveloping him in a gruff hug. "Thanks again, sport. It seems like battling basilisks and dragons is not enough for you—now you've come to my father's rescue."
"I didn't do a whole lot, Bill," said Harry, as he colored in embarrassment.
"You did enough, Harry, and that is what's important."
Nodding, Harry accepted the praise before changing the subject. Bill was like a much-loved elder brother to Harry, and he appreciated his willingness to allow the subject to drop, much as his father had.
What Harry did not miss was the frequent looks that Bill stole when he thought Fleur was not looking, though to be honest, Harry did remember similar behavior from the man the previous year, during the day before the third task. He was not overt in his interest, and he obviously knew that Fleur was now betrothed to Harry. But it was also obvious that he was a little smitten by the young French Veela, and Harry wondered what might have happened, and if Fleur would have returned his interest, had the situation been different. As he was discreet, and Harry was well aware of the interest his betrothed generated, he said nothing, though he did share an expressive glance with Fleur when no one else was looking.
The visitors only stayed for a few more minutes before they excused themselves, amid much wishing of happiness for the holiday season, and promises to meet up again at the express. As they walked away from the room, Harry reflected on his friendship with the quirky family. They really had provided him with help and love when he had needed it, regardless of his words to Mrs. Weasley—or perhaps, in accordance with them. Hopefully, Mrs. Weasley would see the wisdom of his words—if he was allowed to be so conceited in considering his thoughts "wisdom"—and apologize. She had been the first mother-like figure he had ever had, and he would prefer to maintain good relations with her. Only time would tell.
Updated 07/04/2013