Disclaimer: As usual, I do not own Harry Potter. The rights are held by J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

A/N: I hate coming up with names. Mine always sound stupid. How Tolkien did it, I don't know.

Chapter 3
A Reason for Everything

"Tell me," said Harry, "What was I like?"

They were seated in his room. It was located in the staff quarters, and contained a living room, bedroom, and an amazing bathroom. Really, this school took care of the teachers and Prefects.

"You were," said Ron, "well, Harry."

"Quite insightful, Ron," remarked Malfoy.

"Scratch that," said Harry. "How on earth did you two become friends?"

"Don't bother asking," said Hermione. "I've been around for all these years and still can't figure it out."

"Wait, you aren't friendly with Malfoy?"

"Me?" Hermione laughed. "And the ferret? Couldn't stoop that low with being friends with that goat."

"You know," said Malfoy, annoyed, "I am here."

"Don't remember you being invited," replied Hermione.

"Hermione," chastised Ron. "That's harsh. I thought you were going to try."

"I was," Hermione said, "But with Harry here and calling Malfoy "The Albino Ferret" just made me excited."

"You're not telling me I was actually friends with the bugger?" asked Harry in trepidation.

"I'm still here," called Malfoy.

Hermione ignored him. "You weren't close to him, nor were you against him, like me."

"You even started to call him Draco this year," Ron said.

"Liar."

"It's true."

"How?" asked Harry.

"Get your pensieve," Ron said.

"I have one?"

"Let me get it," Hermione offered.

Soon they were seated around the pensieve, and Ron had planted his memory into it. They jumped in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

During the war, while Harry was in Europe studying, he only returned to deal with Horcruxes. The Order of Phoenix dealt with the Death Eaters. Harry stressed that they were to not attempt any interaction with Voldemort. He didn't tell any of them, apart from Ron and Hermione about the Horcruxes.

In 1998, a battle occurred in Birmingham. Death Eaters were robbing a man's house there. War wasn't cheap, and seeing Death Eaters descend to the role of burglars was common as the war raged on.

Ron apparated to the scene with the Order. With him came his future self and his guests in the memory. Immediately after arrival, the Order realised that they had underestimated the Death Eater numbers.

Their attempt to escape apparition was stopped by anti-apparition spells that were put up very quickly. They had no choice but to fight.

They fought ferociously in the house. After a time the battle moved to the living room, with the sides on either end of the room.

At that moment, Kingsley used a new spell devised by the Unspeakables to remove Death Eater masks. While the Death Eaters were already known, generally, this spell would allow the Order, and Aurors, to know the powerful Death Eaters from the weaker ones. That way, they could fight accordingly.

On that day, one of the masks was removed to reveal an unknown Death Eater. The handsome face, under long red hair, gave Kingsley a puzzle.

Should he assume the wizard was powerful and send more than two wizards at him, risking the other Death Eaters a greater chance for attacks? Or should he only send one to him, assuming he was a rookie Death Eater?

In the end, he took Ron and went to attack him, ordering the rest to fight the others.

"Incendio!" he yelled as Ron sent a disarming spell at him.

They both realised the red-head's strength when he blocked both spells with a single hand motion. He sent back a couple of curses, one blue and the other green. Kingsley and Ron dodged the curses and sent their own.

For the next few minutes or so, Ron and Kingsley sent spells to the Death Eater, which he easily blocked, all of them. He lazily sent back spells, which they attempted to dodge, succeeding mostly.

Ron and Kingsley were left panting, while the other wizard didn't break a sweat.

Devon, and Auror who was in the Order, saw Ron and Kingsley's troubles, and, to the shock of everyone around (and would be retold many times in the future), turned the sofa the Death Eaters were using as cover into a portkey, sending them a few kilometers away. The fact that he sent them into a short distance, with no direction, made the spell-casting easier.

That left the Order group and the lone red-head Death Eater in the living room. The odds seemed to be stacked against the Death Eater, seemed being the operative word.

At once, several spells were released from the eight Order members to the Death Eater. Only then did the Death Eater come to life.

"It was like watching a dance," explained Ron in wonder.

The wizards blocked and dodged all the spells thrown. He jumped around the room, in ways that defied physics. His jumps took him longer for him to go back down to the ground. He spun round with grace, and let out spells then.

Two Order members fell down, injured. This spurred the remaining six to push harder.

But they couldn't get him. He jumped and bounced off the walls... He jumped on the walls, with magic of course, and the propelled himself from them very quickly.

"Wait," interrupted Harry, shocked, "Is he bouncing of the walls? That's a trap coming."

"How can you tell," said Ron.

"I've had that done to me once."

After a while, Kingsley noticed a pattern in the seemingly random jumps. It looked like the Death Eater was going from corner to corner, around the wizards.

"It's a trap," he yelled. "He's webbing the walls."

Webbing the walls was creating barriers around a target. Very strong barriers. To make strong ones, one would touch many points on the edges of where the 'web' was to form.

It was too late, however. By the time the words died in Kingsley's mouth, the Death Eater muttered the incantation trigger. At once, a dull grey web-like light surrounded the Order members.

They sent as many spells as they could, but to no avail. Kingsley saw that the Death Eater cunningly conjured mirrors around them, and made them large enough for them to notice them.

"No killing curses!" he yelled. "There are enchanted mirrors around. We'd kill ourselves."

"Not to mention him helping out," said Ron, nursing a bleeding arm.

"Aren't you going to reveal yourself?"

"Why?" the Death Eater replied with a smooth Scottish accent. "This isn't James Bond. I'm going to give you time to look for an escape."

With that, he raised his wand, ready to blast some curse.

Right then, a POP sounded in the room. A blond man apparated in.

"What is it, Malfoy?" demanded the red-head, annoyed by the intrusion.

"I have a message from the Dark Lord, sir," said Malfoy, fidgeting his robe pockets.

"Well, spit it out," ordered the senior Death Eater.

Malfoy whipped out his wand rapidly.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Despite the speed, and the surprise of the Death Eater, the red-head apparated, with no pop sound, out before the spell reached him.

At once, the webbing disappeared. Malfoy did not waste his time.

"Quick!" he hissed. "He'll come back. Apparate to the Hog's Head, Hogsmeade. Now!"

They didn't wait, and apparated, along with the injured wizards with them.

Malfoy disguised himself and sat with Ron and Kingsley in the Head. The rest of the Order went back to Hogwarts.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What's going on Malfoy?" asked Kingsley.

"It's a trap," spat Ron, while applying a bandage to his arm.

"Quite an elaborate one," snarled Malfoy. "Trying to Avada Kedavra Polanar."

Kingsley sat up straight. Ron didn't understand.

"That was Polanar?" he whispered. "I thought he was a myth."

"Nope," said Malfoy. "He's real."

"I thought he'd be older," said Kingsley. "The number of things he's been reputed to have done."

"Nope. Looks about 25, doesn't he?"

"Who's Polanar?" asked Ron, feeling left out.

"Reports have come that Voldemort has a wizard who's extremely powerful. Second only to him," replied Kingsley, sitting back, and wiping his eyes. He suddenly looked very old.

"A second-in-command?"

Malfoy snorted.

"Voldemort has no second-in-commands," said Kingsley. "That would imply he considers his own demise."

"Plus, he doesn't trust any of the Death Eaters from mutinying," added Malfoy. "That's like saying he's made friends. No, the Dark Lord trusts no-one, no matter what many Death Eaters will tell you."

"So what do we do with you?" asked Kingsley.

"Let's turn him over," snarled Ron. "He killed Dumbledore."

"I did not!" spat Malfoy.

"You were the direct cause of his death," said Kingsley. He raised his hand, silencing Malfoy's coming protestations.

"However," he continued, "You did save our lives. So I think we'll spare you and leave it at that. May your days be peaceful."

With that, Kingsley got up.

"What!" gasped Malfoy. "You're leaving me?"

"What do you want from us?"

"Asylum," said Malfoy. "With my betrayal, Polanar will come to kill me. He will succeed if you don't help me."

"Oh well, best of luck," said Ron, getting up as well. He stopped at Kingsley look.

"Dumbledore would've helped him," he said.

"Says who?" said Ron.

"He helped Snape."

"And look where that got him. You just proved why we should leave him."

"We can't, Ron."

"Why?"

"He saved our lives. We owe him."

"We owe him nothing," fumed Ron. "As far as I'm concerned, he hasn't even evened out Dumbledore's death."

"Dumbledore would've helped him."

Ron's shoulders deflated.

"Okay," he said. "But the ferret's got to go through our rules. I'm not going to be killed in my sleep."

Kingsley looked at Malfoy.

"Anything," he stammered. "Just get me away from him."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"That's it?" Harry asked in disbelief. "After all the years of him giving us hell, you opened your arms out wide."

He got angry. How dare they? He got up, and paced the room. Didn't Dumbledore mean more to them? How dare they?

He'd have killed Malfoy. No questions there. But they welcomed him! He didn't see the room get dark, a display of his anger.

"Er… Harry?" asked Hermione tentatively.

"Yes?"

"The light's gone out."

"So?" dismissed Harry. "Switch it on."

"It's run by magic, not electricity."

Oh. He hadn't lost his control like this for quite some time. He set his magic back down. The lights brightened.

"Ron, he's getting that angry look again," Malfoy said, worried.

"He was furious when he came back from Europe, and he came around," said Ron. "The same will happen again."

"I doubt it," replied Harry.

"Anyways," said Hermione. "While Draco-bashing's should be an Olympic sport, I realized something. What happened to Polanar?"

They looked at Harry.

"What? How am I supposed to know? Never seen him before in my life."

"I forgot," said Hermione. "You've forgotten your memories."

"No, I've lost my memories," corrected Harry.

"After Voldemort's demise, you took it upon yourself to find every Death Eater. Before you... changed, you knew what happened to almost every Death Eater."

"You became a walking library," scoffed Ron.

"That's a compliment, Ron, as far as I'm concerned," said Hermione.

"Only you, Hermione, only you."

"Polanar seems to have vanished," said Malfoy.

"Is he dead?" asked Ron.

"There have been no reports," said Malfoy. "Believe me I've checked. He must be alive. I won't believe otherwise, unless I see his cold, dead body."

"Which means," said Ron, "he's going to cause havoc in the mess we're in."

"Why haven't we done anything about this?" asked Harry.

"You refused," Hermione explained.

"Why?"

"Said you were tired."

"You're kidding me!"

"Nope," said Ron. "You said you've done enough for a lifetime, and that others should do their part. 'The wizarding world can't always look to me.' You were fond of saying that."

"That sounds rude," Harry frowned.

"Look," Malfoy said, "you were tired of having the dual role of wizarding hero and scapegoat. They slammed you when you sacrificed everything."

"Plus," said Ron, "you pointed out that they put themselves in this position by embracing the government. Only they could get themselves out. Something about you not having the power to make others see the truth."

"Dumbledore said that," said Hermione.

"What about you guys?" Harry asked. "Are you opposing? Is anyone opposing for that matter."

Harry noticed Hermione looked away at that question. Interesting.

"Nope," said Malfoy

"Not me," said Ron. "But Kingsley's trying to do something. He's the deputy head of Magical Law Enforcement. He's getting obvious, though. Talks about resisting openly to other Ministry officials. Quite risky. He'll disappear very soon if he keeps up."

"Tell him to lay low," Harry said. "I'll look for help."

"Wait," said Ron, smiling, "Was that a request, or an Order?"

Six months before the end of the war, Harry became the leader of the Order. He'd dealt with all the Horcruxes. The not-so-simple job of actually killing Voldemort remained. As he had more information on the war than the other members, he was given no choice but to lead.

"Whatever he wishes to take it as," Harry replied.

"Does this mean you're going to get into this?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

"Why?" asked Malfoy.

"As one exceptional witch once said," explained Harry, "I have this hero thing."

Hermione blushed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Maybe I don't want to be a professor," Harry said, annoyed.

"Look," said Hermione, just as annoyed, "you said you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. Quitting your job on the first day of classes would defeat the purpose."

They were seated in the Great Hall, waiting for the kids to come, and for the gamekeeper, Matthew, to get the first years. (Hagrid died during the war). Malfoy was seated in a respectful distance, talking to the other professors animatedly. Ron had gone back to the Ministry.

"I did not choose this," Harry fumed. "I want to play Quidditch."

"But you chose to keep the identity for a time. And Quidditch! What a waste of a wizard with your potential."

"Anyways," Harry remarked, "why do I have to give a speech?

"You're the deputy headmaster."

"I bet there's a great story as to how I got cornered with that," was Harry's only comment.

"Nope," said Hermione. "You were the only thing stopping the Ministry from appointing one of their own to that position. You're that popular."

"But only professor can be deputy headmaster."

"They can change that."

"Sounds too much like Educational Decrees to me. Who's the Minister again? Umbridge's brother? What does he say? Hom-Hom?"

Hermione covered her mouth, but her giggles still came out. McGonagall looked at her in puzzlement.

"Why doesn't McGonagall give the speech?" Harry persisted. "Dumbledore did."

"She does. You just add to it."

"What did I say last year?"

"It was your first time. Something about doing the right thing."

"I'll just say something Dumbledore said in the past."

"That's smart," said Hermione brightly.

The 2nd to 7th years came in, and Harry curiously became silent. He stiffened.

The hallway was noisy, returning Harry to his memories. He half-wished he could be sitting at the Gryffindor table, between his best friends again. At least he was beside one of them.

The sorting hat sang its annual song, and the sorting began. Hermione was puzzled by Harry only looking at the four tables, and not at the sorting. Afterwards, when they were eating, she decided to find out what was bothering him.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she said.

"What?" said Harry distracted. He was still staring at the students. His plate was untouched.

Hermione kicked him under the table to get his attention.

"I said, is there something wrong?"

"No… nothing at all."

"Harry Potter," Hermione said, angry. "Something's bothering you. Why won't you tell me?"

Harry didn't look at her when he answered.

"It's not something we talk about," he mumbled. "Ron would understand."

"Are you saying Ron's a better friend?" Hermione hissed.

"No, no, no," Harry corrected quickly. "I said you wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"Okay," Harry took a breath. "It's the girls. They're so bloody attractive."

"Who? What girls?" asked Hermione as she looked around. Then the answer dawned on her. "Noooo, not the students. What sort of sick person are you?"

"It's only the sixth and seventh years."

"Oh, that makes it normal, then," Hermione sarcastically replied. "Harry, you're a teacher. Worse, you're twenty-five!"

"Not in here," replied Harry, tapping his head. "I'm only nineteen."

"Oh, I forgot." Hermione deflated. "But it can't go on, you know."

"Of course it can't," said Harry, in a 'what are you thinking?' voice. "Besides, have I dated much?"

"Not really. You said you never met the right person."

"I never got back with Ginny?" Harry asked in shock.

"No," said Hermione. "You met new people and so did she."

"I thought you said I didn't date much."

"I meant you both changed. You're not the same two people you were as kids. Well, she's not at least. If you want, get to know her, and maybe something will come up now."

"Maybe."

McGonagall got up, and all talk in the hall ended. Harry didn't listen to her talk about rules, instead trying to come up with something to say.

When the headmistress finished, Harry had decided to mix up some of his favourite Dumbledore talks. He got up.

"Times have become difficult," he said, looking at the students without a smile. "We have the choice between what's right and what's easy. We must choose the former, regardless of what may arise. To make it work, we must unite. Petty differences such as different Houses or types of blood must never allow us to become prejudiced, or worse, enemies. We are as strong as we are united, and useless divided."

He paused, and then his lips curled. "The greatest wizard I ever knew said many wise things. The wisest I shall repeat to you now. Keep it in mind for the rest of your lives."

The students, and most of the staff leaned forwards, interested in hearing what Voldemort's vanquisher would find so great.

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

The hall was silent. McGonagall was the only person making a sound, chuckling heartily. Even Hermione gave Harry a weird look.

McGonagall was still laughing when she told the students to go to their dorms.

A/N: You might have noticed something wrong in this chapter. Don't worry, it's deliberate.