Chapter 50 – To Triumph Over Evil
"So, I guess that's it then?"
"Remus, we've been through just about everything in the library which has even a shred of information about horcruxes." Tonks sighed and sat back in the chair she occupied. "We've found out what we can. I'm sorry; there's nothing left here to discover."
Bone weary, Remus slumped back in his chair. Though the search for information pertaining to Horcruxes had ultimately yielded results, the results were not what Remus would have wished. When they had started searching the archives—with the help of several members of the society, due in large part to their unfamiliarity with the language—Remus had hoped that they would be able to complete their search and return to England within a few days. He had underestimated the amount of information available within the archives, and that did not even mention the time they had lost due to the full moon and Remus's change. It had been frustrating, but unfortunately nothing compared to the knowledge that the answer for which they searched simply did not exist.
It felt like he was failing Harry. He was well aware that Tonks, Sirius, Dumbledore—hell even Harry himself—would tell him that such feelings were in no way grounded in reality. And Remus himself certainly understood that there was nothing in the situation which could remotely be blamed on him. His heart, though, was having difficulty understanding what his head already knew.
"Remus, talk to me."
Opening his eyes, Remus took in the concerned countenance of his companion. She had been a tower of strength, pushing forward when he had faltered, maintaining their hope with her irrepressible good cheer and her natural ability to see the good in any situation. She was being much more blatant in her regard since they had arrived at the library, but Remus did not have the strength at present to warn her off; he needed a sympathetic shoulder far too much to spurn what she was offering.
"I just…" Remus paused to collect his thoughts. "I had hoped we would find an answer—something which would help us. Something which would help Harry. Not this… this…" Remus shook his head. "What we've found is not an answer. It's just more misery and hopelessness.
"I…" Remus swallowed and hung his head. "I just don't know what to do."
"We've found all we can find, Remus." Tonks' voice was full of compassion—she was well aware of what this meant to him and though she was no more than superficially acquainted with Harry, he could tell that she also felt the affects of their inability to find what they had required. "Unfortunately, horcruxes are not what Dumbledore thought they were, and we can likely blame that on the society. They've been removing every reference they can find for centuries. Frankly, I'm surprised that any reference escaped them when they started this crusade of theirs."
Remus snorted. "And I would say that we should not underestimate mankind's ability to design ways to commit evil and make sure they can carry out that evil."
"I know." Tonks put her hands up in surrender. "But that fact that Voldemort was able to find a reference which he was actually able to use to recreate the ritual is no less than astonishing."
Sighing, Remus turned his thoughts away from his introspection. "So how many do you think he actually has then?"
"We'll never know until we try the spell on him," Tonks replied, making a face. "Dumbledore believes that he tried to make a magically significant number, but if he attempted to make his horcruxes in secret—which seems almost certain—then my guess is that there are actually very few. Harry might be the only one."
And there was the trouble. They now had the means to discover how many horcruxes Voldemort had made available to them, if they were able to get close enough to the man to cast it. They could also identify a horcrux via a similar spell. But the information Dumbledore had given them on horcruxes, though horrible, was nothing in comparison to what they had found. Simply put, the horcrux was far more insidious and evil than even Dumbledore had suspected, and its effects were far reaching and, as far as they knew, permanent.
Even more troubling was the ability for the horcrux creator to effectively make himself immortal, if he were prudent, and if he planned his deeds properly. Indeed, there was more than one instance in Egypt's history in which someone had managed to continue to live due to the creation of horcruxes for several centuries. That Voldemort did not know exactly what he could do with a horcrux was actually a blessing—he would have been a much more formidable and terrible foe had he known exactly what he was creating all those years ago. Indeed, Dumbledore might never have found out what the man was up to, and he could potentially have taken over the magical world through stealth, though his path to do so would have been much longer.
"So, to sum it up," Remus began sardonically, "we have a more terrible spell than even we had originally thought, if Voldemort knew about it he'd become almost unstoppable, and we have no way to remove it from my friend's son."
"Don't forget about the history."
"As if that will do any good," Remus muttered.
"We also have Dumbledore on our side," Tonks reminded him. "If anyone can figure this riddle out, it's Dumbledore. And remember, every magic has a counter."
"If we can find one," Remus replied doubtfully.
"True," Tonks replied in her ever-irrepressible manner. "But there's no sense in wallowing in our self-pity here, continuing to search for something which does not exist. We should return to Britain, give Dumbledore the information that we've discovered, and see if he's as great a wizard as we hope he is."
Remus smiled at her briefly, knowing that he words were a bit of a kick in the pants for him, something that he needed desperately. He was aware of his own disposition, and knew that the years since James's death and Sirius's imprisonment had emphasized his own natural inclination toward negativity. She was right; they had discovered more information than they had previously possessed. The situation was hopeless without it; it was merely almost impossible with it.
"Agreed," he finally said to her. "We should make arrangements with the society to leave as soon as possible."
Filled with a new sense of purpose, Remus and Tonks returned the materials they had been researching—which without magic Remus suspected would have crumbled to dust long before—to the capable hands of the custodian, and left the archives. Less than thirty minutes later, they were once again ushered into the presence of Mohammed, the head of the society, though this time they met with him in his office, and without the rest of the council.
As they entered the office, Mohammed peered up at them over his spectacles from whatever document he had been perusing. They had found a calm and reasonable man in the leader of the society. Whereas some jealously guarded their privacy and seemed to almost live completely separate—even from the magical world—Mohammed was very much a proponent of sharing their knowledge where necessary, with the proper safeguards employed, of course. Remus did not claim to understand the internal politics of the society, but to him it seemed the height of lunacy to wish for the society to take a purely insular stance and refuse to deal with the rest of the world. They were in the business of safeguarding dangerous information in case it was needed to fight evil.
"Ah, Mr. Lupin, Miss Tonks," Mohammed greeted them, motioning to two chairs situated near the center of the floor. His office was more like that of a kindly university professor than the office of a businessman or politician; rather than having his desk in the middle of the room and having his guests seated on the other side like supplicants, his desk sat in one corner, and the area he directed them to contained a sofa, two comfortable armchairs, a small coffee table, and some refreshments preserved under a stasis charm.
"I understand that you've spent some time in the archives," he continued when they were seated. "Can I assume that you are ready to return to your home country?"
"We are, sir," Remus replied, before he belatedly amended it to, "Mohammed" upon the man's mock-disapproving expression. It was another thing Remus liked about him—he was very amiable and unpretentious, preferring to deal with others as an equal, rather than bludgeon them with his supposed rank or experience. He was actually much like Dumbledore in that respect.
"And I presume that you have not found what you were searching for?"
Remus shared a glance with his companion. "Unfortunately not. In fact, what we discovered was something far more sinister than I had ever expected."
"I know of what you speak." Confused, Remus leaned forward to ask him what he knew but Mohammed just waved him off. "Yes, I know I spoke rather obliquely when you first met us, but there are some things we do not speak of. This is one. For most of the council and our members, gathering and safeguarding the information is enough and I will admit that in the past several decades I have been content to let it be so myself.
"As a young man, however, I was a little more… impetuous, I believe is your word." Mohammed sat back in his chair with an introspective, far off look in his eyes and a self-deprecating smile on his lips. "I perhaps had a little more eagerness than sense as a younger man, and I undertook some study in some of the knowledge we possessed in order to better understand what we are fighting against. As our oaths prevent us from passing on that information on in an uncontrolled manner and we cannot use it ourselves, it is permitted."
Nodding, Remus motioned him to continue. Being under a version of those oaths now himself, he was well aware of their thoroughness and the consequences of attempting to break them.
"One such subject I studied was horcruxes, as I was curious about the magic which resulted in the founding of our society. The knowledge has never been needed before now, but I have always been glad I had made the effort, as it illustrated to me very clearly just exactly what we fight.
"On the other hand, the evil required to create a horcrux repelled and sickened me, and it was after I had learned what I could about horcruxes that I ceased my overt studying attempts, though I will often still learn of any new magic which comes to our attention. I know of nothing so heinous as the horcrux, however, which is a distinct relief."
Pulling himself from his introspection, Mohammed turned to gaze at them frankly. "So yes, I understand what you face. You are here because of a young man you consider almost as a son, and yet you now understand the true nature of the horcrux."
"That's something I don't exactly understand," Remus replied with a nod. "If Voldemort found information on how to create a horcrux, why did he bungle it so badly?
Professor Dumbledore did not tell us what he knows of what Voldemort tried to make into horcruxes, but I know that he tried to make several and that they were almost trophies to him."
"As you know from the archives, it was a mistake made by the original creator of the spell," Mohammed pointed out. "I can only assume that whatever Voldemort discovered, it was incomplete and left out the crucial details. For that we must all be thankful."
"That's for sure," Tonks muttered.
"Regardless, as I said, I know what you face, and the information you must impart." Mohammed gazed at them with some compassion. "Therefore, I have initiated an effort within our society. We have people with many talents counted among our members, and I have asked several of our spell crafters and arithmantic experts to delve into the ritual and attempt to create a counter."
"Thank you," Remus replied, moved by this man's attitude. "We certainly appreciate your efforts."
Mohammed waved him off. "It is nothing more than prudent. From what you tell me of young Mr. Potter, he seems important in the struggle against your dark lord and if a way can be devised to remove the horcrux from him, it may benefit others if this ever happens again.
"Now, as to your immediate plans, I imagine you will wish to return to Britain immediately?"
"We do," Remus confirmed. "As this expedition has always been a secret, we will take a portkey to France and then travel by Muggle means to get back to Britain."
"Very well. I will have someone assist you in obtaining a portkey from our Ministry. We will contact you if we discover anything in our search for an answer." Mohammed paused and appeared to consider his words before he once again gazed squarely at Remus and his companion. "You have both shown yourselves to be competent and compassionate individuals. If you are ever interested in becoming agents for us in Britain, please send me word and I will see you initiated into the society."
Although he was intrigued by the offer, Remus knew that now was not the time for this discussion. He confined his response to a brief acknowledgement and an expression of gratitude for being considered worthy of the honor.
Mohammed just smiled. "We are always looking for good people, and you both would be welcome additions to our ranks. For that matter, once you extract the appropriate oaths from those with whom you will share this information, you may tell your Chief Warlock that if he ever tires of government, international intrigue, and the running of his school, that he would be most welcome to join us as well."
With that, their meeting broke up and Mohammed sent them on their way. Following Tonks from the room, Remus turned his mind toward the coming journey and the news he must impart to Harry. It would be difficult and he wished it were otherwise, but perhaps a solution could still be found. One could always hope.
It was much later the afternoon after the attempted abduction and attack against Miss Granger when Albus made his way toward the potions master's office for a quick conference with the unpleasant man. Albus supposed he should be grateful—Severus's knowledge of the counter-curse had contributed to the saving of the girl's life. Of course, if he had never invented the curse with the intention to use it on his childhood nemesis James Potter, all the pain and anguish suffered that day could have been avoided. Or perhaps not—Albus now knew enough of Draco's intentions to know that if he had not known the Sectumsempra curse, he would undoubtedly have used something else and, potentially, something worse. It would not go well for Mr. Malfoy; that was a foregone conclusion.
Returning his thoughts to Severus, Albus decided that did not begrudge the man his feelings—his relationship with James Potter had been explosive almost from the day they had walked through the doors their first year. It had grown ever worse as James had begun to show interest in Lily, and ratcheted up to violent levels once James and Lily had actually become a couple. And James had never been an innocent in the affair. In fact, the boy had been an arrogant bully when he had arrived at Hogwarts. But James had grown and matured, gradually becoming the man he had, a man whom Albus had been proud to call a friend. Severus, unfortunately, had never been able to get past his hatred for his childhood nemesis. He was, at times, a child stuck in a man's body. In that, the contrast between them was great indeed.
When Albus arrived at the door to Severus's office, the potions master readily allowed him entrance. Severus was seated on a sofa in the corner of his office with a cup of tea, and he appeared to be as introspective as Albus had ever seen him. Perhaps this morning's events would remind him of the things which were important…
"Albus," Severus greeted as he walked in, though he did not stand or make any other gesture of greeting.
"Good afternoon, Severus."
The potions master paid him no mind, however. He sat on his sofa and sipped his tea and all the while, his eyes were unfocused, peering off into the distance. It was some time before the man spoke.
"It was somewhat… disconcerting to see my spell used on another person, Albus."
Albus watched the other man for some hint of what he was feeling. But other than his words, there was no other indication—Severus continued to sip his tea and peer distractedly at scenes only he could see. He hoped that Severus was feeling some remorse, but he had always been a difficult man to read, and even as a boy in school.
"Indeed it is," Albus finally responded. "But the more pressing question is where Draco learned such a spell."
Turning his head to face Albus, Severus's eyebrow rose. "If you are asking me if I taught it to Draco, then the question is no."
"Then how did he learn it?"
An indifferent shrug met his query. "The spell is… not unknown to the Dark Lord's forces. I suspect that Lucius taught it to him."
This time it was Albus's turn to raise his eyebrow. "Not unknown? I thought you jealously guarded the secret of your own personal spells."
"I was observed using it during a raid near the end of the first war," Severus replied. "And I will note that by that time I was already working actively for you, and that I purposely missed my target. I did not kill anyone with it."
"I never doubted it for a moment," Albus said. "You answered the questions I had for you at the time truthfully. I was merely surprised that you had consented to impart your own personal spells to others."
"I was not exactly given a choice," Severus said with a rueful grimace.
The man was silent after his words, but Albus had the impression that he was merely thinking of how to respond, rather than possessing any true hesitance over sharing what had occurred. But when Severus spoke yet again, his words, though vague, did illuminate his meaning a little further, though he still kept his emotions in check.
"As a Death Eater, I was… expected to share anything which would allow the Dark Lord's forces to be more effective. That particular curse is not only powerful, but also leaves a very vivid effect on the victim, and also leaves an impression on those who witness it. The Dark Lord commended me for my ingenuity."
This last was spoken with a measure of contempt, but whether it was directed at Voldemort or at Severus himself, Albus could not be certain. To a certain extent, Albus hoped that the man's tone was self-aimed—it was far past the time that Severus began to regret some of his past actions, or at least those which were not centered on what had happened to Lily Potter.
"Of course, most Death Eaters can't be bothered to use it." This time there was no question at whom his barb was directed. "To most of them the spell is too much effort. They much prefer the instant gratification of the killing curse or the Cruciatus."
Severus looked up, and for the first time during the interview, Albus could see that he had the potions master's full attention. "I assume that you have Draco incarcerated?"
"There was little else to be done," Albus replied. "The boy attempted to kidnap Miss Granger, intending to hand her over to Voldemort, and he attacked her with a dark curse, nearly ending her life. If he had had more time to consider it, I do not doubt he would have simply killed her with a killing curse, but he was flustered when Harry appeared so much more quickly than he had anticipated. Even if the involvement of law enforcement was not required in this case, I cannot ignore what the boy is becoming."
Albus paused and looked Severus in the eye. "He has no remorse, whatsoever, Severus. He hates Miss Granger with an intensity that is almost frightening. Had he not acted now, I believe I would have been frightened for her and her entire family during the summer. He has his father's example to emulate, after all.
In fact, Draco's situation, while not identical, was somewhat reminiscent of a younger Severus Snape. Albus hoped that Severus understood that.
"I believe I have told you before where he was headed," Severus replied, this time aiming his derision at the boy under discussion. "He's had his head filled with his father's ideals all his life, and you are well aware of what Lucius stood for. I dare say that you are entirely correct in your speculations—he would have counted it an honor to mimic his father's actions on Miss Granger's entire family personally."
Albus grimaced—he was not unaware of Mr. Malfoy's opinions on the matter. He had just spent some time with the boy and his surface Legilimency made it absolutely clear that there was very little hope of redeeming him. It was a pity for one who was still at such a young age.
"And what about the rest of Draco's friends?" Severus asked.
"They knew nothing of what he planned," Albus replied.
"But surely they knew something," Severus countered.
"Of course. But he refused to share anything with them."
"So will you send them home?"
Albus sighed. This was the difficulty. They obviously supported Mr. Malfoy, not to mention Voldemort's aims, but they themselves had not actually done anything wrong themselves. They could not even be said to have been accessories to Malfoy's crimes, as they boy had shared nothing with them but the normal platitudes of how he had been chosen to act by the Dark Lord. It was difficult to determine the best thing to do, not to mention the fairest course of action.
"Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle will need to be expelled," Albus said after a moment. "Their confrontation with Harry in the hallways when he was rushing to save Miss Granger is another case of spellfire in the hallway, even though they did not know what was happening at the time. This time they've gone beyond the point of no return.
"As for the rest… Miss Parkinson is completely devoted to Mr. Malfoy, as you well know, but though she has always supported him, she has never done anything herself. Miss Bulstrode is a lukewarm supporter at best, and Mr. Nott's position is much the same as Miss Parkinson's. And as for the older students, well they generally tend to behave in a more Slytherin manner, the recent confrontation in the Slytherin common room aside. I have nothing to pin on any of them, though at the very least their parents are Voldemort's supporters. At present, I am considering leaving them with a very stern warning of the consequences of stepping out of line again, and allowing them to stay."
"You will need to be very watchful if they do stay, Albus," Severus commented. "They will take any chance at revenge that presents itself. Especially Nott and Parkinson."
Inclining his head, Albus answered, "I fear you are correct." At that, Albus stood. "Please keep an eye on your house, Severus. Voldemort will make his move very soon and you and I both know that Hogwarts is a very tempting target. We must be vigilant."
Severus inclined his head, but he did not say anything further. By the time Albus had let himself out of the office, Severus was once again immersed in his contemplations. Hopefully, he would begin to undertake the self evaluation which Albus had been afraid would never occur. The man could not become much worse, after all.
A sensation of warmth spread across Harry's face and, feeling lethargic, he basked in the feeling, snuggling down into his pillow, intent on drifting off once again into the blessed oblivion of sleep. And that was when he remembered.
"Hermione!" he cried as he shot straight up in bed, before sinking back down again with his head pounding in protest.
"It's all right, Harry," a voice said from his side.
With some effort, Harry opened his eyes to see Fleur's visage, etched with concern. The blue depths of her eyes captured his own as she watched him.
"Fleur!" he croaked, as he reached out and enveloped her in a fierce embrace. "Where is Hermione?"
"Right here," Hermione's voice said from behind his betrothed.
Harry lifted his eyes and he saw the person of his best friend sitting in the bed next to his. Fleur had moved a chair and had situated it between their beds, though she was now perched on the edge of his bed, and had her arm draped around him.
"Fleur and I were wondering when you would wake up," Hermione continued with a large smile. "But then again, you've always been a bit of a sleepyhead in the morning."
Heedless of the pain in his head, his unsteadiness, or anything else but the need to confirm for himself that she was well, Harry threw off the blankets and stepped off the bed, crossing to Hermione—or perhaps it was more correct to say the he lurched and staggered across the intervening space to Hermione's bed. In the end, however, the effect was the same and he was able to reach her.
He moved across the edge of her bed and engulfed her in his arms, sobbing with relief that she appeared to be well. "I though I had lost you," he managed to gasp out between his sobs.
"I am well, Harry," Hermione assured him, while returning his embrace with a fierce one of her own. "Thanks to you. You seem to be making it a habit to rescue one particular damsel in distress."
Burying his head in her hair, Harry allowed himself to relax and the terror of the day to wash from his body, leaving nothing but contentment at the safety and security of the arms of his beloved. Or more appropriately, one of his beloveds.
At the thought of Fleur, Harry shifted and lifted his head, catching sight of the familiar blonde vision of his betrothed, drinking in the sight of her perfect features and flawless skin. She was watching them as they embraced on Hermione's bed, and Harry saw that for once her countenance was closed. He could make out nothing of her thoughts from the expression on her face.
In mute invitation, Harry reached out to her, opening his arm for her to join him and Hermione on the bed and, after the slightest of hesitation, she acquiesced, smoothly slipping into the space underneath his arm. At that moment, all seemed right in the world. They were both safe and they were here by his side, pressed closely to him. Nothing could be better.
At length, Harry pulled back and examined both of the girls. Fleur appeared to be the picture of health and vitality, much as she always had. Hermione, understandably, was still wan and tired-looking, though the ghostly pale aspect of that morning was gone in favor of a healthier color. When she moved, she appeared to be largely free of pain, though Harry did detect a grimace or two. She seemed to be well on the way to recovery, though Harry was not about to let that assumption stand without confirmation directly from her mouth.
"How are you really, Hermione?" he asked, and then he grinned at her. "You can't get away with my typical 'I'm fine' answer you know."
Hermione smiled at him and then answered truthfully, "I am well, Harry. I do still ache a little and Madam Pomfrey has me on a regimen of potions for the next week, but I feel quite well considering what happened only this morning."
"It's amazing what magic can do," Fleur interjected quietly. "It can harm in the most devastating ways, but it can also heal with amazing quickness."
"Thank goodness!" Harry exclaimed. But there was little mirth in any of them. The events of the morning were far too raw in each of them for any levity. They quietly spoke amongst themselves for some time, relishing in the feeling of comfort and contentment, not thinking about the storm which was undoubtedly brewing over them all. It was not long before they were all rather forcefully reminded by their bodies that they had not eaten anything since that morning—and Hermione since the night before—and they were interrupted by the Headmaster after Harry's stomach decried him loudly for neglecting to appease it.
"I see you are all on the road to recovery," Dumbledore said after he had greeted them, "and that your appetites appear to have returned. I will arrange for the house-elves to bring you all some dinner so that you may fortify yourselves."
"What's happened with Malfoy, sir?" Harry asked, turning his attention from the idyllic interlude he had just experienced, to the reason they had spent the entire day in the hospital wing.
"It would be better if you were all informed later, as you will have visitors," Dumbledore replied. "For now, please eat your dinner. It is best to cover weighty subjects on a full stomach, is it not?"
Harry acquiesced, though not without some impatience, not to mention a look at the Headmaster which demanded an answer. Dumbledore undoubtedly saw it, and after thinking on the matter for a few moments, Harry was thankful for his forbearance. He was a respected wizard in a position of much authority, after all, and Harry was well aware of the fact that his behavior could be described as slightly petulant.
For the better part of the next hour, the three sat in the hospital wing eating their dinner and basking in the presence of the others, all thoughts of future days with the potential to be equally stressful forgotten in their desire to simply enjoy being together. It was unfortunate that such a happy circumstance must ultimately end.
They had finished their meals and had settled back into their positions—Hermione leaning against the headboard of her bed, Harry sitting a little further down, while Fleur occupied the chair now pulled close—when the first indication of change came over them, in the noise which appeared to be making its way toward the door. When the door burst open, and the Headmaster stepped in, followed by a rather large group of people. The largest surprise, however, was when Hermione's parents entered, and immediately made their way toward their daughter's bed, each with concern and worry etched upon their features.
"Hermione!" Elizabeth Granger sobbed as she enveloped her daughter in a fierce embrace. Harry moved off the bed to give Hermione's parents a chance to fuss over their daughter, and he looked at Dumbledore, as the Headmaster was watching the reunion with compassion. All at once Harry understood—would this attack be enough to convince the Grangers to remove their daughter from Hogwarts?
Suddenly anxious himself, Harry eased himself away from the bed and approached the Headmaster. "Sir, why are the Grangers here?" he asked quietly, taking care that his words would not be overheard by his best friend's parents.
"I decided that I had no choice but to inform them of what happened," Dumbledore replied, his voice equally quiet.
"But they weren't informed of all the other things that have happened, right?" Harry asked. At Dumbledore's tight nod, Harry said, "What if they decide to pull Hermione out of Hogwarts?"
"I hope we can convince them of the folly of that course," the Headmaster replied. "But the situation was different this time. With the troll it was a creature which blindly made its way into the castle—Miss Granger was not the focus of that attack, though she was in danger. It was the same with the basilisk. In this instance, however, she was the specific target of someone who meant her harm. Though the law does not require me to inform them, due to their status, I could not in good conscience keep this from them. To be honest, looking back on it now, I believe I should not have kept any of those previous incidents from them either."
It did not take any great insight to divine the underlying message behind Dumbledore's words—he was not required to notify them because they were Muggles. The Headmaster, however, had revealed his own sympathies by contacting them and bringing them here, and though he had possibly been remiss in not informing them the other times their daughter had faced danger, it was quite a bit more than he was required to do.
"The laws aren't fair, Harry," Sirius said as he approached from behind. "You worry about kicking Voldy's arse—once he's gone and you've taken your place in the Wizengamot, we can work to change those laws."
Though hardly mollified, Harry agreed with a tight nod. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder in commiseration, while Jean-Sebastian—who had arrived with Apolline to round out the party—nodded his approval. No doubt they had also been subjected to the same sort of prejudice themselves because of Apolline's heritage, though France did seem to be a slightly more tolerant society. Or at least it appeared to be that way for Veela, if nothing else.
When Hermione's parents had assured themselves of their daughter's wellbeing, their attention turned back toward the rest of the room. Their faces were set in displeased, though even lines, and their words were certainly not what Harry was hoping to hear.
"Headmaster, what the hell is happening at this school?" Mr. Granger ground out. The normally mild-mannered man was clearly suppressing his outrage over the knowledge that his daughter had been attacked in a place where she was supposed to be safe.
"Don't blame it on Headmaster Dumbledore—" Hermione began, but she was immediately overruled.
"Ultimately, I am responsible for the safety of the students in this school, Miss Granger," he said in his placid voice. "I thank you for your sentiments, but you do not need to protect me."
He turned a shrewd eye on Hermione's parents. "Mr. Granger, how much has Hermione told you of what is occurring in the magical world at the present?"
William Granger turned to look at Hermione. "You're talking about the Voldemort chap, aren't you? Something about him returning after a long absence?"
"The situation is quite a bit more complicated than that, but in essence, that is correct. Perhaps we have all been remiss in not informing you before now—I believe it is now time that you were aware of the exact situation which exists now in the world of which your daughter is a member."
With that, Dumbledore launched into the description of what was happening in their world. He touched on everything, including what had happened when Harry was a child, the growing suspicion that Voldemort was trying to return, the escapades the two friends, along with Ron Weasley, had experienced, and finally the ultimate return of Voldemort the previous year. Harry did notice that he did not go into great detail in certain subjects, specifically troll incident from first year, and the basilisk from their second. Harry suspected it was because he was not certain of how much Hermione had imparted to her parents and he did not wish to upset them further or turn their anger on her—those were the two times, along with the Dementors, in which Hermione's life had been in the most danger, and though Harry had never truly considered it before, he now suspected that Hermione had never been completely open with her parents; if she had, it was very likely that they would have insisted she leave the magical world long before.
When the Headmaster finished his recitation, the room fell into silence for several moments while the Grangers digested what they had just been told. At length, Mr. Granger turned a speculative eye on Harry.
"It seems you've led a charmed life, Harry," he said, part of his good humor at least restored. "It's a rather fantastical story, you have to admit, especially this bit about surviving a spell no one else has managed to, and witnessing someone come back to life."
"Yes sir," said Harry, somewhat surprised that he seemed to taking it all so well. "But it's true."
"It's been a while since I've attended church, but I'm pretty certain the Bible would say that your story is impossible."
"I don't know much about the Bible, sir," Harry replied. "But I can tell you that Voldemort is back, no matter what happened to him when I was a baby."
Mr. Granger sighed and shared a glance with his wife, though it was Mrs. Granger who responded. "We aren't questioning your story and we're not going to suddenly start throwing scriptures at you, Harry. It's just… it's quite a bit to take in."
She turned and looked at Hermione. "I suppose it would not do any good to suggest that you leave school and this conflict behind?"
At Hermione's vigorous denial, the Granger's once again looked at each other, seemingly having a conversation without words in the manner of a devoted couple who were very familiar with one another. "Somehow, I didn't think so," Mr. Granger muttered.
"It would not be advisable in any case," Dumbledore interjected.
Mr. Granger peered at the headmaster. "Just for the sake of argument, humor me please. Why isn't it advisable?"
"The magical world is at war, Mr. Granger. Despite what has occurred today, your daughter is safest while she is here. If she were to return home, the Death Eaters would eventually learn her location—if they haven't already—and as a close friend of Mr. Potter's, she would become even more of a target. They would learn quickly that she has left school, I assure you."
"But what about when my parents return home?" Hermione asked, a hint of fear entering her voice. "Won't the Death Eaters target them because of me?"
"That is very likely, Miss Granger," was Dumbledore's sober reply. "I think it would be prudent to provide your parents with emergency portkeys which would take them to a safe house in case of an attack."
"Would they work for non magicals?" Harry asked curiously.
"They certainly would," Dumbledore replied affably. "The caster provides the initial magic. Out in a Muggle area the magic would slowly bleed away, eventually leaving the item inert, but it would take several months before it would be rendered unusable."
Harry filed that information away—it might become important at some later date.
"That would be appreciated, Headmaster," William Granger replied.
"I'm surprised you're taking this so well," Hermione told her parents quietly.
Elizabeth Granger leaned over and put an arm around her daughter. "I won't lie to you, Hermione. Every instinct tells me that we should leave this place and run far away. But I suppose that wouldn't really resolve anything."
"And you would end up resenting us," William added. He turned to Harry, and a solemn expression came over his face. "You will protect her, won't you Harry?"
"With my life," Harry replied fervently.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," William replied.
"Yes, let us all hope," Dumbledore murmured. He continued at once, changing the subject to the one Harry had been impatiently awaiting. "Now, as for the particulars of the actions of Mr. Malfoy, I can tell you that it appears that he was instructed to attempt to kidnap either Miss Granger, or Miss Delacour. It doesn't seem to have mattered to Voldemort which one he targeted."
"Slimy git," Harry murmured under his breath, and he hugged Fleur to him as a gesture of support. It could very easily have been his betrothed as the other girl he loved.
"How did he manage it?" William asked,
Harry shook his head disgustedly and snorted. "He managed it because we were too convinced of our own superiority and his lack of anything resembling intelligence.
Puzzled, Elizabeth asked, "What do you mean?"
"I allowed Hermione to go off by her own when I saw Malfoy and his friends all in the Great Hall," Harry explained with a shake of his head. "It never occurred to me that he would be sneaky enough to use polyjuice against us. I didn't think the git had it in him."
"Polyjuice?" William asked. "I'm sorry—I don't understand."
"Perhaps I should explain," Dumbledore interrupted, "since I am privy to exactly what his plan was, having questioned him. It was simple in execution, relying heavily on the fact that you would discount him as a threat if you could see him in front of you when you entered the Great Hall. The Hufflepuff who told Miss Granger to meet with Professor McGonagall was, of course, put under the Imperius curse.
"Then, he also used the Imperius curse on a second year Slytherin boy, instructing the boy to impersonate him in the Great Hall using polyjuice, and return to the Slytherin dormitories before the hour life of the potion had been exhausted.
"Mr. Granger, polyjuice is a potion which allows a person to take on the appearance of another person—all it requires is a single hair, added to the potion. Anyone taking that potion becomes that person for all intents and purposes, for the space of an hour. Of course they retain their own thoughts, but physically, they are the new person. The other piece of this—the Imperius curse—is a curse which, when cast, allows another to take full control of another and force them to obey their commands."
"Wonderful tools you have in your world," Elizabeth muttered sarcastically.
"What happens if a person drinks a… polyjuice I believe you said?" At Dumbledore's nod, William continued, "What happens if they drink their own potion?"
Dumbledore chuckled, while the rest of the magicals in the room glanced at each other curiously. "I believe that most wizards would not even think to ask that question, Mr. Granger—we tend to be a rather… incurious people.
"I do not actually know the answer, and I do not know if it has ever been tested. I suspect that nothing would happen, as there is nothing to change. There is the possibility of a bad magical reaction, but to be honest, I am unsure, even with all my years as a potioneer and alchemist. Suffice it to say that Mr. Malfoy forced a younger boy to impersonate him, so that he would be free to carry out his deeds."
"That way he would have an alibi when Hermione's disappearance was discovered," said Fleur.
"Not to mention plenty of witnesses who would testify that he had been at breakfast before returning to his dormitory," said Dumbledore. "He did not take into account the possibility that someone would inform Harry that Professor McGonagall was not in her office. He may have felt the chance was small or that it was an acceptable risk."
"Even if someone had questioned, like Luna did, he still would have gotten away with it if we hadn't had the map," Harry added quietly. He glanced at Sirius, who grinned at him and shot him a thumbs up.
"Map?" Elizabeth asked curiously.
Harry nodded. "When my father and his friends," he waved a hand at Sirius, "attended school here they created a map which shows the location of everyone on it. When we found out we'd been tricked, I looked for Hermione on the map. That's how I was able to get to her in time."
Elizabeth Granger shook her head. "This world of yours is so incongruous at times. You have amazing tools which allow you to locate a person quickly, travel far faster than anything non-magical, and save a person from near death. But you also have ways to torture and kill far more effectively. I'm sometimes unable to decide whether magic is a good thing or not."
Nodding sagely, Albus said, "Very true, Mrs. Granger. But you could say that of science as well. On the non-magical side of the fence, you have not only managed to land people on the moon, but you have also devised ways to kill thousands of people almost instantly, neither of which magic could ever hope to accomplish. There is good and bad in both worlds, unfortunately, and it is up to those of us who possess the proper moral compass to make certain that these tools are not misused, and that the perpetrator is punished when he does use them."
"What is the saying?" Hermione spoke up. "'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.'"
"Very apropos," Dumbledore said with a nod of approval. "We should all remember that, for the times ahead will be harder before they become easier."
Momentary silence descended upon the room as the import of the exchange was digested. Harry knew that Draco's actions were nothing more than a precursor to what was truly coming. They had all best be vigilant
"Do we know why he decided on Hermione?" William asked, only to be swatted by his wife. He turned a slightly red face to Fleur and contritely said, "I apologize for how that sounded, Fleur. I wasn't suggesting it would be better had he chosen you."
Fleur just brushed his words off. "I take no offense, Mr. Granger."
"It is a valid question," Sirius broke in.
"He has become more and more fixated on Hermione all year," Harry stated. "He's hated Hermione for much longer than Fleur." Harry grinned at Hermione. "Besides, he may have thought Hermione was the greater threat. He knows first hand that she's got a great right hook."
There were a few snickers in response to Harry's irreverent statement, and even more when Hermione blushed and shot Harry a glare which promised retribution.
"I believe that is a story I have not yet heard," Dumbledore said with an amused smile.
"He said that they would get Fleur later," Hermione interjected in a quiet voice, sobering them all.
"I believe there have been other incidents throughout the school year which have increased his antipathy toward Miss Granger," Dumbledore broke into the silence. "And I fear that I may have inadvertently increased his hostility when I paired you together in Defense class last December. For that, I apologize."
"I hardly think he needed any more reason than his own prejudices, Headmaster," Jean-Sebastian interrupted, and his sentiments were echoed by the Grangers and everyone else in the room. Harry knew that Jean-Sebastian was right—perhaps that incident had increased his hatred, but Malfoy had hated Hermione since their first year. It was equally because she had long been his closest friend that determined Malfoy's actions, Harry was certain. Passing the blame around would be pointless, however, so he kept his opinion to himself.
"Regardless, magical law enforcement has been called in deal with the situation, and they have conducted the initial interrogation and investigation of the incident this afternoon. Tomorrow morning, Mr. Malfoy will be transferred to the Ministry and will undergo an interrogation under the influence of Veritaserum."
Mr. and Mrs. Granger appeared perplexed. "What is Veritaserum?"
"It is a powerful truth serum," Dumbledore explained. "One under its influence cannot lie. The specifics of Mr. Malfoy's actions will be determined tomorrow, and then he will likely face charges for kidnapping and attempted murder, not to mention his use of an Unforgiveable. Given what his father testified only a few days ago, I doubt the Wizengamot will be persuaded to be anything other than extremely harsh when it comes to his crimes. I dare say we shall not see Mr. Malfoy at Hogwarts again."
"And what of his accomplices?" William asked.
"He has plenty of supporters, but in this instance, he had no accomplices. He was very careful to keep the specifics of his plan completely to himself."
"But… But Crabbe and Goyle, sir!" Harry sputtered.
"Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle were acting completely separate from Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore corrected gently. "I have questioned them both and confirmed that they merely used an opportunity which presented itself to try to obtain revenge for their fathers' executions."
Though Dumbledore was not explicit, Harry knew that he was sure of his information because he had utilized Legilimency in the matter. There was no doubt that Crabbe and Goyle, stupid as they were, had little to no skill in Occlumency. As such, Harry doubted that Dumbledore had even had to utilize active Legilimency—a passive reading of surface thoughts almost certainly would have been enough.
"However, even though I confirmed that neither was aware of Mr. Malfoy's plan, they still attacked you in the halls. As I had specifically warned against the consequences of such behavior, I expelled them—their mothers arrived earlier this afternoon and escorted them home."
"Good riddance," said Harry, a sentiment which was echoed fervently by both Fleur and Hermione.
"As for the rest of Mr. Malfoy's clique, I cannot do anything further against them at this time. We shall need to be vigilant in watching Mr. Nott, Miss Parkinson, and Miss Bulstrode, in addition to some of the older members of Slytherin house, and a few in other houses, whose views are suspect.
"Also, Harry," Dumbledore continued, while turning to Harry, "I would like to have the use of this wondrous map of which you spoke earlier. The passages are close enough to the surface that they are protected by the school's wards, which is why Mr. Malfoy could not simply portkey away once he had entered the passage. But I would like to block them off so that they cannot be utilized in a similar manner in the future."
"I'm not sure what happened to it," Harry said with some chagrin. "I left it on the table when I went to chase after Malfoy this morning."
"The twins have it," Fleur spoke up. "They didn't want anyone else to get their hands on it."
The room descended into silence for the next several moments, and Harry, ensconced as he was into Fleur's side, was content to let it be so. The events of the morning had been particularly draining, and Harry just wanted to forget it all for a while. He was thus, unprepared for Fleur's next question.
"Headmaster," she began hesitantly, "I was wondering about something." At Dumbledore's nod, Fleur continued. "What happened this morning between Harry and Hermione? I mean… she had lost so much blood. When we arrived, I was surprised that she was still alive."
At Fleur's words, Harry's mind was suddenly filled with the recollection of what had occurred that morning, and specifically what he had experienced while in his trance and trying to save Hermione. He gasped and said, "I saw her!"
Curious looks were directed at him and he colored a little at the attention. Dumbledore in particular was gazing at Harry in a particularly assessing manner. "What do you mean, Harry?"
"When I was… well, doing whatever I was doing, I saw Hermione. We spoke."
Hermione obviously did not remember the experience, as her expression was as puzzled as that of anyone else.
"Perhaps you should explain exactly what happened, Harry," Dumbledore prompted.
Slowly, Harry did just that, concentrating first on what it felt like to reach out with his magic and latch on to Hermione, then the strain he felt as he continued to hold on to her. He then went into his vision and his conversation with Hermione, what he was feeling, and how Hermione had told him to let her go if necessary. When he had finished his recitation, he noted that there was not a dry eye in the room. Hermione especially was gazing at him as though her heart was in her eyes. Never had he felt more certain of his love for her and her reciprocating feelings.
"That is a remarkable story, Harry," Dumbledore replied after a moment. "And one which does clarify a few things, though not everything. In our discussions we have touched on the subject of souls before. Do you remember what we discussed?"
Harry nodded, understanding that of everyone in the room, the Grangers were not privy to the secret of horcruxes, and it was not prudent for them to learn. Beyond that, Harry was not certain of what their reaction would be, and he did not wish to invite the renewed possibility of them removing Hermione from his presence for good.
"Excellent," Dumbledore replied with a nod of approval. "For those who were not privy to those discussions," Dumbledore nodded at the Grangers, "I will briefly explain. The various Muggle religions have speculated on the existence of the soul, but the magical world has proven its existence without any doubt. It is still imperfectly understood, but suffice it to say that the soul does exist, and there is a branch of magic which deals with all things of a spiritual nature. This branch is largely useless except for certain academic interests, but it does exist.
"In reaching out to Miss Granger's magic, you provided the power for her bodily functions to continue operating after her body was not capable of continuing to function on its own. In short, you reached out with your magic, and in doing so, initiated a communion on a high and spiritual level with Miss Granger. In doing so, you kept her alive."
Whatever Harry had been expecting, this certainly was not it. Unfortunately Dumbledore's explanation raised far more questions than provided answers, and he was not certain that the answers existed.
"So, are you saying that I… bonded with her or something?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore laughed quietly at his question and shook his head. "No, Harry, you did not create a bond. Such bonds are wonderful for poets and novelists, and excessively romantic, but in the real and practical world, they do not exist. Your soul is your soul; Miss Granger's soul is her soul. The only bonds that we create are the bonds of friendship and love, and I dare say that those bonds are more powerful than anything else in this world.
"You shared a great part of yourself with her, and she responded, whether she was aware of it or not, by latching on to you, allowing the connection to occur. Please understand, Harry, that this communion is a very rare and beautiful thing, exquisite and almost certain to draw you closer to one another. But it does not provide any mystic powers, such as the ability to converse via telepathy, knowledge of one another's thoughts, or a mystical sharing of souls."
Here Dumbledore turned a stern eye on Harry and his voice became very serious. "I should also warn you, if you have not already determined this yourself, that what you did is very draining and very dangerous. With your great power you were able to hold her for far longer than I would have expected—I would warn against trying something like this lightly."
Harry nodded—he had figured that out himself. Given the way he had felt when his connection with Hermione had been broken, he was in no hurry to try something like that again any time soon.
"But what of what I saw?" Harry asked. "Did I dream it?"
"I believe it was real, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "Remember that you were in close proximity to one another, on a physical and a more spiritual level. Though Miss Granger does not remember it, on some level she must have understood the danger you were putting yourself in and acted accordingly to try to protect you." Dumbledore smiled at them both. "Your relationship is longstanding and is as profound as any I have ever seen, and it is not surprising that you are able to communicate in such a manner."
Harry blushed, shooting a sidelong glance at Hermione, who had matched his shade perfectly. To hide his embarrassment, he burrowed into Fleur's side a little more, noting her tightened embrace in response. He avoided any more contact with Hermione, though—he understood instinctually that she was not ready to have their relationship exposed to her parents; that would have to wait for another less emotional time.
The discussion broke up soon after that. Dumbledore left immediately in the company of Sirius to retrieve the map and take care of the passages, while the Delacours stayed for a few moments to have a few words with Fleur, before they too departed. The only ones who stayed longer were the Grangers, who were informed by the headmaster that he would see that they were returned to their home once he had finished his task, thereby allowing them to visit with their daughter and ensure for themselves that Hermione was well.
Left somewhat at loose ends and unwilling to interrupt the small family's time together, Harry and Fleur moved back to Harry's bed and began to talk quietly together. Of course, they we interrupted by the inevitable—and welcome—visit by their close friends, who came to see for themselves that they were well.
As they sat around as a group, Harry allowed his mind to wander. Hermione was now safe—or as safe as she could be with Voldemort still at large—and Fleur was by his side as she had been since the surprising announcement of the previous summer.
But though Harry knew that both girls would castigate him if they knew his thoughts, he could not help but think of how he could keep them safe in the coming struggle. It had already been shown without any doubt that it was very dangerous to be close to Harry Potter right now and Harry did not know what he would do if anything happened to them, and he was not close by to thwart the Malfoys of the world. Whatever happened, Harry was determined that they should be kept safe. He would go to hell and back before he allowed either one to be harmed again.
Updated 05/30/2014