Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am making no financial gain from this story whatsoever.

Chapter 15
Tests, Morals and Meetings

"As cliche as it sounds," a voice said. "You have one more test, to see if you've taken in our lessons."

"Unexpected," Harry said sarcastically. "Can I remove this cloth covering my eyes?"

"Not yet, Mr. Potter," said the voice. Damn! Where was it coming from? "You have to pass the first stage blindfolded." Damn again.

"You have to proceed through a path without the use of your eyes," the voice said. "The dangers that come will be of no importance. How you deal with it, is. No use of magic enabling you to see through the cloth is allowed, or you fail the whole thing."

"Couldn't make it more difficult, could you?" Harry asked.

"Don't concern yourself with that," the voice said. "The path is straight. Best of luck."

"What?" exclaimed Harry. "No other hints?"

No answer. Oh well, time to move on, Harry thought.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I took a few steps forward, to test it out. Nothing happened.

I walked onwards, trying to feel out the air around me, like the professors taught me. So far, I was alone. That, or I couldn't pick up what was present.

Swoosh! I felt the air around my left cheek move as something flew right past me, at a high speed. An arrow.

I quickly raised my wand, and held it up. What spell to use? There were so many possibilities, yet nothing stood out. I didn't even know what I faced.

I put my wand in my pocket, after performing a quick spell, and instead raised my sword. It seemed more effective at that moment.

I walked down the path again. I needed to 'sense' my surroundings, like they taught me. That was obvious. I held my breath and felt the air around me.

Silence. Nothing. Wait...

I jumped to my side, as another arrow was sent to where I was previously standing.

"Very good," said the voice. "You can dodge when blind, but can you defend yourself?"

I heard the pops of apparating wizards, and held the hilt tighter.

Pain suddenly exploded at the back of my head. I saw stars after being hit with a blunt object. I touched the wounded part, and felt wet blood.

I tried to sense the magic in the air, but it was difficult, with them hitting me at all sides. I held my breath, and stood still.

There... I could see them, three faint outlines as they stood around me.

One of them lunged at me, and I stepped to my right, while grabbing his outstretched arm. I pulled him to me, and then slammed the sword's hilt on his face.

One down.

The other two attacked me at the same time. I grabbed one of the extended arms, while I tried to block the other's punches. I got hit in the eye, recoiling back, and letting go of the arm.

I kicked out, hitting one's midsection. I turned to punch the other in the face. I then attacked the first, still bent over, clutching his stomach. A kick to his face, and he fell down.

I got hit in the back of the head, again. I stumbled onto the ground, and tried to get back up. The last standing attacker was coming too fast. I reached into my pocket, and quickly took out my wand.

"Stupefy!"

All down.

"Not bad," the voice returned. "But you had the advantage of your enemies not using their wands. Plus, they had magic obviously on them, so you could detect them. This will not be given to you in the real world. However, you did pass that stage."

"Continue on," the voice said. "Oh, and you can remove the blindfold."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry continued on, finally aided by his eyes. He didn't recognise this hallway, but he didn't need to. He walked forward, cautiously onwards, until he saw a small fire ahead of him.

As he approached it, the surroundings changed into an outdoor environment. The pale moon hung above him in a vast grassland, a few trees standing around.

A small group of Death Eaters stood around the fire. He ran ahead, and they apparated off before he got there. But a small clearing was ablaze in front of him. The fire spread slowly into the centre, which at the moment wasn't burning.

In the middle of the clearing stood a young child, and a grown man.

"Look at them," the voice said. "One is innocent, while the other has commited heinous acts, including murdering an entire family. All innocent. Do you rescue them?"

"Of course," Harry said, rushing forward.

"Not so fast," the voice hissed. "The innocent is not what he seems to be at first glance. Look harder."

Harry stared at him, trying to see where he'd seen this face before. A pensieve, Dumbledore...

"Do you know, now?" asked the voice.

"Tom Riddle," replied Harry. "As a kid."

"Yes, your infamous Dark Lord himself," said the voice. "The question now is, do you rescue them?"

Harry stood still. Thoughts rushed through his head. Why should he help them? What purpose would it serve? The murderer deserved this, and Voldemort was Voldemort.

"It's not that difficult," the voice spoke softly. "We are dealing with the worst of society. One who has harmed others, and the other who will harm many. Leave them to their own doom."

"Am I the right authority to judge that?" Harry stammered.

"Does it matter?" asked the voice. "It would nevertheless be the right path. To let them go would result in you condemning others to death. Let them die."

Harry stood in indecision, watching the fire rise higher, and move futher towards the centre. He saw the murderer remain still, eyes emotionless. The young Tom Riddle crouched on the ground, curled up, trying to draw away from the ever coming fire. His eyes were filled with tears, the eyes, and tears, reflecting the flickering flames around him.

Harry decided what to do. He raised his wand.

"You would rescue those who didn't deserve it?" asked the voice incredulously. "Those, when in your position, chose to kill the innocent? Let them burn!"

Harry ignored the voice, whose volume increased as he waved his wand, swearing at him to leave them be.

The fire subsided slowly, and then vanished.

Harry's surroundings flickered, and then changed to a more recognizable one. One of his professors stood in front of him.

"It felt so real," Harry gasped.

"As it should've," said the professor, "for it to be effective."

"Did I pass?" Harry asked.

"You passed the first test."

"And the second?"

"There is no pass nor fail to that one," replied the professor.

"What was the point of it, then?" Harry asked.

"A man's true self is revealed only with adversity," replied the professor. "Today, you learnt something of yourself that you never knew before. Why did you spare them?"

"It wasn't my position to condemn them to death," Harry said. "Also, that Tom Riddle was innocent. He hadn't done anything, yet."

"And thus, we've entered a most complicated philosophical question," remarked the professor. "Can a man be punished for what he will do?"

"I don't know," Harry said.

"And there is no clear answer," the professor said. "Your final lesson is that there is no black and white in this world. Fighting Voldemort is an easy choice. But you'll be faced with far less clear problems in your life. There is no standard way to live your life. You decided to spare Voldemort, at the risk of all the others he'd kill. On the other hand, he was an innocent at that moment."

Harry shuddered, the weight of the question weighing heavily on his mind. Did he choose the right one?

"Cheer up, Harry," the professor smiled. "This was an artificial setting. Your choice made no difference to anyone."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Albus?" Harry asked. "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course, Harry my boy," Dumbledore replied. "It's not like I have somewhere to go."

Harry smiled uneasily.

"How are you coping being Headmaster?" asked Dumbledore.

"As best as I can," answered Harry. "Not to mention trying to run the wizarding world from here."

"Such a large responsibility is unenviable," the former headmaster noted. "What happened to the remnants of the Ministry?"

"Some have made it here, mostly lower-level people," Harry said. "But they're useless."

"Some things haven't changed," chuckled Dumbledore. "More importantly, however, how are you?"

"Not very good, really," Harry said. "I just killed three muggle attackers, when it wasn't needed."

"I'm sure there's an explanation to that," said Dumbledore.

Harry explained what happened in Cho's office.

"What's bothering you?" Dumbledore asked.

"The fact that I killed three men when incapacitating them was an option," Harry said in anger. "I became what I hate."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because... they killed when they didn't have to."

"So they were partially to blame?" asked Dumbledore.

"Not for my actions, no," Harry said. "They were killers, though."

"Yes they were," Dumbledore then sighed. "Listen, Harry. I will not tell you what you did was right. But you have to seek the root of your problems. Other things are bothering you."

"Such as?"

"For one, you are still affected by the loss of your past," Dumbledore said. "Two, you've now been placed in a war, and to top all that, a friend gets murdered right in front of you. Most people would've snapped long before you did."

"Doesn't make it right," Harry argued.

"No, it most certainly does not," Dumbledore said. "But you have to help yourself before helping others."

"I've been trying," Harry said. "And Cho's been helping."

"I know, but concentrate on that for now," said the former headmaster. "There is no prophecy that links you to this world's disasters. You have an obligation to your own life, too. What's been bothering you?"

"Firstly, my memory loss," Harry said. "I've been bothered by a memory with Polanar cursing me. It's important, but I can't figure out why."

"Secondly?"

"Polanar, himself," Harry sighed. "What he's up to is a mystery. He's a danger, that I'm sure of."

"Anything else?"

Harry mumbled something.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," Dumbledore said.

"I said," Harry took a deep breath. "I've been having feelings for Hermione ever since I came here."

"Ah," Dumbledore laughed with the twinkle in his eye. "Far more difficult than everything else, isn't it?"

"You're bleedin right," Harry said. "Sorry."

"Deal with it," Dumbledore said.

"I have been," Harry argued.

"What have you done about it?" queried Dumbledore. "Exactly?"

Harry remained silent.

"Not much, I gather," said Dumbledore. "Just solve it. For better or worse, when it's over, you'll feel better."

Dumbledore sighed again, the twinkle now gone.

"I know the reason you've been having difficulty is beyond your control," he said. "You were raised in an environment where love was a mystery to you. You haven't had many people that loved you, have you? I truly am sorry for that."

"It wasn't your fault," Harry said. "But sometimes I wish I had another life. Something far more quiet."

"We all do, the ones who experience such difficulty," Dumbledore said. "But we don't have the power to change our existence. We do have have another power, though."

"What?"

"To change what goes on in our lives," said Dumbledore.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry was marking papers in his office when a squeaky voice sounded in the empty room.

"Mr. Potter, sir?" a house-elf asked nervously.

"Yes?" Harry replied.

"Trinky made error while cleaning your room, made wrong spell," the house-elf shuddered. "And blew hole in wall."

"That's okay, Trinky," said Harry. "Why don't you just fix the hole?"

"I was going to," said Trinky. "But I found something behind it."

"What?"

"I don't know what it is."

"Show me," Harry said.

He followed her to his room, where she went in and pointed at what she was talking about.

"A pensieve?" Harry asked. "Was it just laying there in the wall?"

"Yes," the house-elf said. "It was in a small hole in the wall."

Harry looked at the hole, blackened wall around it. He saw the pensieve, standing alone in a small gap in the wall. He looked around, and noticed that it interior of the hole made out of wood. Somehow, he realised that the pensieve must've been his. Otherwise, why was it in his room?

"That's okay Trinky," Harry said. "Could you leave now?"

The house-elf obeyed, mumbling about cleaning up later on. Harry stared at the pensieve, wondering why he'd have another. Only one reason could come to his mind. He had memories here he wanted no-one else to see. Ron nor Hermione mentioned it, so they must not even know. Still, he'd have to be quite paranoid to have two pensieves, since everyone assumed there was personal stuff in a pensieve.

What did he need to hide, that he wanted nobody else to ever see?

A knock sounded at the door. He jumped in shock, and rushed to cover up the scene.

"One moment," he yelled.

He waved his wand about. There, back to normal. He covered the hole, and kept the pensieve there.

He went and opened the door, letting in Hermione.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"Not bad," he replied. "You?"

"Can't complain."

"How's Ron and the Weasleys doing?" he asked.

"Not great really," she said. "It's bad enough Arthur died in the Ministry attack, but that Charlie was with him, too, is devastating them. They're keeping a brave face, but Ron's shattered. He can't hide it from us."

"And to think he was consoling me," Harry groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I feel so guilty."

"You didn't know then," Hermione argued.

"Still, I tried to apologize," he said. "But he wouldn't listen to me."

"That's Ron," Hermione smiled weakly. "Stubborn even in mourning."

"Good man," Harry said.

"The best," she replied.

"Don't think I asked you before," Harry said, trying to act nonchalant, "but why did you two break up?"

"Too different," she said simply. "Opposites attract, but we later learnt that it's very difficult to stay together once the initial passion cools."

"How did the break-up go?"

"The actual separation went quite easily, suprisingly," Hermione said. "It was the fights before the realisation it wasn't meant be that was so hard."

"Are you dating anyone now?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione said. "War getting in the way of things."

"What about Micheal?" he asked.

"Oh, it was just one date," Hermione said. "He was a good chap, but I didn't know him that well."

"Was?"

"He did work in the Ministry," she said. "I haven't seen him after the bombings. He might have perished in them."

"Hopefully not."

"Hopefully not," she agreed. "So, who exactly are you going to meet up with?"

"Some foreign magical governments are sending delegates to see how to deal with the problem," he said. "Might be helpful."

"We'll need all the help we can get."

"That we will," he concurred.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hello there, Dr. McGuinty," a voice said warmly.

"Oh Lord..." stammered the scientist. "What the hell do you want?"

"Come on, doctor," Harry replied. "Is it polite to talk to an old friend like that?"

"Get out!"

"And I thought we bonded when the guns were pointed at us," Harry sighed, mocking the scientist. "Never mind that. I had a few questions."

"Quickly ask them," the scientist said, "so that you could be gone."

"I thought you said it would be a long time before the treatment for preventing magic was available?" asked Harry.

"I did, but the government didn't care," said McGuinty. "They rushed it."

"How effective is it?"

"Not very," admitted the scientist. "But it could stop magic temporarily, for some months in a child."

"What about the dangers to our lives?" Harry asked.

"An insignificantly small danger," McGuinty said. "Not like what we'd feel with..."

"With?" Harry asked. "With what, McGuinty?"

"Nothing."

Harry grabbed the scientist, and threw him onto the wall, holding him up with his hands on his shirt.

"Don't lie to me," he growled. "What danger is there?"

"Put me down," McGuinty said fearfully. "I'll tell you."

Harry complied.

"There were many chemicals used, mixed along with magic," the scientist explained. "A few had the unfortunate side-effect of affeting non-magical people."

"How?"

"Well, if adminstered in the body, the casting of a magical spell somehow hurts muggles (as you call us)," McGuinty clarified. "The larger the dose, the more dangerous the outcome. Death will occur if too much of this is given. The simple presence of magic in the air, for example a spell cast in the air, not necessarily aimed at the muggle in question, can kill the muggle."

Harry sucked in a deep breath. This could be disastrous.

"How much would be fatal?" he asked.

"We haven't actually tested on a human," Dr. McGuinty chuckled darkly. "But a few teaspoons is enough, depending on tests done on animals. Whether injected or applied through the mouth, the result was the same."

"You got rid of it, right?" Harry queried.

"No," said McGuinty. "I wanted to study how it affects us."

"Idiot," Harry snarled. "Get rid of it. Quickly. If wizards find out about this, who knows what'll happen?"

McGuinty was silent.

"Oh no," Harry sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "What happened now?"

"A few supply trucks carrying it mysteriously vanished before the fighting began."

"Who did it?"

"Wizards," McGuinty replied. "The MI5 magical branch was sure of this."

"How much was stolen?"

"The supply was in the tonnes."

"For the love of everything good!" Harry shouted. "Tonnes! You have something that can kill muggles, and you make a humongous amount of them, just to get it stolen?"

"It had to be studied," argued the scientist.

"Fool," spat Harry. "One thing people in your work fail to understand is that not everything should be studied. Some things are better off removed from existence. You have no idea what you may have done."

McGuinty's telephone rang, and he looked at it. He turned back to where Harry was, but the room was empty, except for himself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry sat in his private quarters, late in the night. The pensieve lay in front of him, neither liquid nor solid white swirls floating about. He took a deep breath, and jumped in.

Harry fell into a familiar hall. He remembered this scene, it was the same place he went to in the other pensieve. In fact, it was the same party was going on.

He saw himself standing alone, right where he was the last time. This time, however, the younger Harry seemed a bit distracted. He noticed the younger self staring at something, and he turned to see what.

He saw Hermione standing by the drinks table. She was standing close to the same handsome man, laughing, in the same manner, at what he was saying, her arm still on his shoulder.

This memory was somewhat different. The memory Harry was only interested in Hermione. He was staring at her. Hermione giggled and playfully pushed the handsome man away. The younger Harry's jaw tightened as he clenched a fist.

The older Harry was puzzled. Why was this Harry bothered?

He saw his younger self turn to see Ron with the witch sitting beside him, Ginny dancing, and Angelina sitting on Fred's lap. He waved his wand, and sped through the memory, realising what occured afterwards was the same as before. He waved his wand again to start the next memory.

The environment appeared again, showing Hogwarts. Harry saw himself flying on the broomstick. A group of children were flying with him. The viewer Harry was floating right beside Harry. He felt weird, as if he was flying himself.

"Do the Feint!" one shouted, with the others joining in demand.

"I don't think that's smart, encouragng you like that," the younger Harry said. "I'll do something else."

"Please?" begged the students.

"Sorry, but n..." he stopped upon seeing Hermione walking into the pitch. She waved at him, and he waved back.

"Okay," Harry said. "Just once."

The students cheered.

He flew up high into the air, and stopped. He suddenly pushed down on the head of the broomstick, and it quickly sped in that direction. He pushed on the broom, increasing the speed as quickly as possible.

Soon the world was a blur to him as he flew at an unimaginably high speed. He increased his speed some more, and the wind roared as it passed his ears. The world seemes to disappear around him, he couldn't hear anything but the wind's howl, couldn't see much apart from colours due the air blowing into his eyes.

He saw the green expanse of the pitch rise fast towards him. He held on the broom, still going to meet it. As soon as he could distinguish the individual blades of grass, he wrenched hard on the broom, pulling its head up. His whole body bent backwards due the sudden change of direction.

He heard someone scream.

"That was bloody brilliant!" a boy roared.

Harry descended to the ground.

"I think I hurt my back," he groaned.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled. "How are you?"

He got up quickly. "Just fine," he said. "Nice feint, wasn't it?"

She slapped him on the shoulder. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"I'm fine," he said. "I'll clean myself in the showers. I'll see you at the castle."

After she left, the younger Harry fell into the arms of the students.

"Get me to Madam Pomfrey, will you?" he asked.

The memory ended, and another started.

Harry fell into his office, and saw his younger self reading a letter. He walked around the desk, until he was standing behind him.

Harry,

I went around Scotland, and talked to some of the older locals in towns. I've found out Paul's last name. It's Anar. He's half-French, too, which might explain why there's no-one who remembers anyone looking like Polanar attending Hogwarts.

Regards

The letter was unsigned.

The memory ended there, and another began. He saw himself standing in Hermione's office. She was seated, writing on some parchment.

"Hermione?" the memory Harry said.

"Yes?" she replied.

"Would you like to go out, sometime?" he said.

"Where'd you like to go?" she asked, still scribbling on the papers.

"I mean," Harry paused. "Like on a date?"

The scratching of the quill on parchment became silent.

"Excuse me?" she asked, an unsure look on her face.

"Would you like to go out on a date with me?" he asked.

She was silent, clearly thinking of what to say.

"You could just say no," the memory Harry remarked after a period of time.

"It's not that," she said. "It's just..."

"Yes?"

"Do you really want to go through this path?" she asked.

"I don't understand."

"I mean..." Hermione paused. "I mean, do you want to risk what we have now?"

"What are we going to risk?" Harry asked.

"The break-up with Ron was difficult," she said. "I'm surprised we got out still being friends. I don't want to ever risk losing you, Harry."

"But we're different," he insisted. "Just because you and Ron didn't work out doesn't mean..."

"It doesn't mean we won't," she finished. "But there's a chance we won't, anyways. I can't do anything that may lead to that."

"So it's a no?" he asked. The future Harry watching this shook his head. Wasn't that obvious?

"I'm sorry, but yes," Hermione said, "it's a no."

The memory suddenly ended.

Harry stepped out of the pensive, and collapsed on the nearby couch.

He chuckled darkly when he thought of Polanar's real name. How original.

Remembering the other scenes quickly ended his laughs. While surprising, they made sense. He couldn't explain why exactly he had feelings for Hermione. Even when he just arrived, or lost his memories, he acted like an idiot in front of her.

He never liked her that way before. It was all about Ginny during the war against Voldemort. It was deceptively simple. He had those feelings for quite some time (starting after the Voldemort demise). It puzzled him, however, to think he was still affected by the feelings by whoever he was before the change. His memories might have been gone, but his attractions weren't? Strange, how strange.

As he walked into his bedroom, he wondered if liking someone actually counted if it occured before an amnesia?

It also opened a whole new problem with Hermione. She would shoot him down if he suggested the same thing. Since she made no mention of them dating (nay, no mention of his attraction towards her at all), nothing changed. Did he want to risk that, or move on?

As he lay on his bed after he dimmed the lights, Harry wondered if finding the pensieve was a good thing after all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Harry walked to have lunch, he heard shouts coming from the hall.

"What's the commotion about?" Harry called, storming into the Great Hall.

He walked in to see a large number of people standing, shouting at one another.

"Silence!" he roared. After a few seconds, the hall was quiet.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Ron answered, "Carter's suggested a few things, and it's bleedin' pissed everyone off."

"Carter?" asked Harry. "Who?"

"Quentin Carter, one of the Minister's secretarys," Hermione explained. She pointed at who she was speaking about.

"Ah yes," Harry said. "We've met. What's going on?"

"Well," Carter spluttered. "We need new people to lead the wizarding public."

"Who might that be?" Harry said.

"Those who remain from the ministry," Carter quickly replied.

"Namely, you," hissed Ron.

"Why do you think you're fit to lead?" Harry asked, coldly.

"The Ministry is the rightful government of the people," Carter said smoothly. "We haven't been completely destroyed by the muggles."

"But you have been destroyed," said Harry. "Not to mention that this is a war that you played a part in igniting."

"You want to lead?" scoffed Carter. "You're a headmaster, and a new one at that. Don't fool yourself. Politics is far more complex than you think."

"You are causing divisions, at a time where it is least needed," sneered Harry. "Either shut up, or leave."

"What are you going to do about it?" Carter spat.

Harry sighed. Such childishness really wasn't needed.

"Get out," he said.

"What?"

"You heard me," Harry replied. "Take all of your supporters, and leave Hogwarts. It's the last standing structure that you haven't buggered up, and I won't let you mess this up, too. I want you gone within the hour."

With that, Harry turned and stormed out of the Great Hall.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry stood in the classroom, in front of a large group of people. He saw Hermione and Ron among the recognizable people sitting in the back of the room.

"Welcome," Harry said. "I brought you all here today to discuss international assistance for us."

"I am Louis," a wizard said, standing up. "I represent the French Ministry. We will not stand by and leave you on your own."

"That is appreciated," Harry said.

"I'm representing the U.S.," another wizard said. "We offer assistance, but we can't be public about it."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Because," said the Japanese representative, "we can't risk starting conflicts on our soils as well. These events here in Britain could ignite a World War between wizards and muggles."

"Yes," agreed the Nigerian representative. "It's extremely difficult keeping the existence of wizards secret while there's a war going on."

"What will you have me do?" snarled Harry. "Lay down and allow them to destroy our entire infrastructure?"

"No," said Alejandro, Spain's envoy. "Keep low while we try to get our muggle governments to hold back your muggle rulers. They will not attack forever."

"Just until there's none of us left to attack," Harry replied. "You are asking us to do nothing."

"We will take in wizards and witches who wish to leave the fighting," Louis said. "All of continental Europe is open to you."

"Many have already taken that offer," Harry noted. "And some of them went across the Atlantic. The rest of us remaining, however, will not leave. This is our country, damn it, and I for one will never step out of it."

"You are too weak to fight them," the German envoy said. "They outnumber you, and you said you've lost part of your population."

"So we shouldn't defend ourselves?" scoffed Harry. "This is our land, as much as theirs, and I'm not going to go underground. I may go down, but I'll take as much of their troops with them along, too."

"Harry, listen!" Alejandro insisted. "Your actions may decide the fate of us all. Magic has been far outstripped by technology. We are on broomsticks, while they are on Eurofighter Typhoons! You can decide to lose a battle, or start a war that can destroy every wizarding nation in the world."

"You're exaggerating," Harry said.

"You know I'm not," shot back the Spaniard. "These muggles are divided on every major issue, but if it's a muggle versus wizard conflict, you'll be surprised how fast they'll band together. Soldiers, military equipment and humanitarian aid are flowing into Britain from all corners of the Earth. They fear a magical victory will influence wizards in their land to overthrow them."

"Do not be the reason why we return to the persecution of magical folk," the American wizard said. "Too many of us died to get out of that."

Harry remained silent, unsure of what to decide. How far was he willing to go? He hadn't thought of the wider implications of fighting the muggles in Britain. But they couldn't sit back and get steamrolled. What to do?

"I won't go public," Harry promised. "But we will not sit back. As long as they don't escalate it, we won't be making any headlines in your papers."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Harry?" asked someone at the door.

"Do come in, Louis,"offered Harry. "Please sit."

"I have to head back to Paris, soon," the French representative said.

"Thank you for your time," Harry said. "What have you found about Paul Anar?"

"He attended Beauxbatons," Louis said. "But had lived in Scotland since he was born up to his eleventh year."

"Why didn't he go to Hogwarts, then?" askedHarry.

"His French mother wanted this," Louis explained. "It seems like they agreed he'd live in Scotland, and study in France."

"Sounds difficult," Harry remarked.

"Well, he's fluent in both French and English," said Louis. "So it turned out well for him."

"Seems so," Harry said. "Thanks for your time, and the information."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Someone knocked on Hermione's door.

"Come in," she called.

Harry's head stuck inside.

"Do you have a moment?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "Come on in."

Harry entered, and stood in front of her desk. She was looking around her desk for something.

"Yes?" she said.

"Why didn't you tell me I asked you out?" he asked.

She stopped searching.

"How'd you know that?" she asked, looking up at him.

"It was in my pensieve," he replied. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should I have?" she said. "You asked me out, I said no. I see nothing interesting about it. Do you?"

"Well, I would've wanted to know," he said, getting defensive.

"Why?" she asked, looking hard at him.

He tried to look calm, didn't look at her in the eye. He paid attention to her pictures, lifting one of them.

"It would've been important to me," he said. "Something about who I was."

"I see," she said. "Now you know."

"Now I know," he repeated. "But Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Do you still feel that way?" he asked tentatively.

She sat in thought. "Doesn't matter, does it?" she asked back.

"I don't follow," Harry said in confusion.

"You don't feel that way, still," she said. "Do you?"

Harry hesitated. "Not really," he then said.

"Then how I feel doesn't have anything to do with it," she explained.

"It does seem as such," he mumbled.

He didn't like the shrewd manner in which she looked at him. Almost as if she was reading his mind. He had to check his Occlumency sheilds to make sure she wasn't.

"Anyways," he said. "I best be off."

"Bye," she said.

Harry walked to the door.

"Harry?"

"Yes?" he asked, as he turned around.

"If there's something you want to say," she said, "feel free to say it."

"No, no," he waved. "It's nothing at all."

A/N: Before anyone says so, Beauxbatons was a both boys and girls school in the book version of Goblet of Fire. I'm disregarding the movie on this one.

In case anyone was wondering, a Eurofighter Typhoon is a European fighter aircraft.