Chapter 19

Now the Fun Begins

Harry appeared in the unkempt yard outside of the side door of the Burrow, causing a gnome to yelp from fright before it scurried away to its own burrow. Five seconds later, Hermione arrived thirty feet away, seeing Harry already walking towards the creaky structure. Molly, of course, heard the two apparation cracks and rushed out the door. She embraced him with all of her might, and Harry could not help but smile at the greeting.

"It's so wonderful to see you safe and sound, Harry," she gushed, "You can't imagine how worried we've been." Her face flushed with emotion.

"I know, Mrs. Weasley," Harry responded, a smile still on his face, "It's been a long road. I'm glad it's over now."

Molly and Hermione also hugged, and a moment later Ron and Ginny appeared. Harry briefly embraced both of them too, paying no special attention to Ginny, who said nothing. Molly told them that Arthur and Remus had both been summoned and should be arriving at any moment.

Soon they sat together in the sitting room, which Harry could see had been quickly straightened by Molly prior to his arrival. Michelle Goldsmith remained at the Burrow, awaiting the arrival of her superiors. Upon leaving Hermione's house, she realized that she had never been to the Burrow, so following instructions, she apparated to the Ministry and discreetly send a coded note by paper airplane to her contact, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Within a few minutes, Kingsley met with her, and she received instructions on how to floo to the Weasley residence and to notify Molly of the upcoming visit of Harry and Hermione. Kingsley took care of the rest.

Michelle had the day off from the Daily Prophet, so she saw no need to rush off. Sooner of later she would have to return to Hermione's house to collect and return the rental car, but she still had the whole day for that. Frankly, this counted as the most exciting moment of her life, watching history happen right in front of her eyes. She intended to remain until somebody sent her away. Harry stared at her for a moment, and she wondered if he would insist that she leave, but he merely sat in one of the armchairs without acknowledging her.

"Your hair is black again," Ginny commented, trying her best to act normally. Hermione immediately took note of the younger witch's puffy red eyes, but when she looked at Harry, it appeared that he did not notice. Whether he simply had other matters on his mind or was a typically clueless teenaged boy, she could not be sure, but she breathed a sigh of relief. Sooner or later, Harry would have to confront and resolve this problem, but not now.

"Hermione did it for me," he replied casually, "I was tired of being a blond." He smiled again, and despite his reluctance to return to the Burrow, now that he had arrived, he could not help but enjoy the ambiance of the ramshackle residence. Harry had no place that he truly considered home. No. 12 Grimmauld Place belonged to him, but it would never feel like home, and certainly No. 4 Privet Drive even less. The Burrow came closest, even though he had only spent a few weeks of his life there.

The four friends sat quietly, realizing that they would have to wait before having a true conversation, given the presence of Molly and Michelle. Finally they heard sparks from the fireplace, and they all turned their heads to see Remus Lupin step lightly into the sitting room. Five seconds later, a crack announced Arthur's arrival just outside the side door.

Harry stood and shook Remus' hand, both men smiling broadly. Surprising himself, Harry's spirits soared. He did not realize before how much he missed everyone during his exile, and just seeing the face of each important person in his life lifted a weight from his shoulders. When Arthur rushed through the door, he also smiled broadly and enveloped Harry in a manly embrace.

"You don't look much worse for the wear, Harry," Arthur declared appraisingly, "It's wonderful to see you back among us where you belong."

Though Harry could not be sure he agreed that he was back where he belonged, he thanked Mr. Weasley honestly and felt more relaxed than he had since Dumbledore's murder some seven weeks earlier. At last he felt that his ordeal with the Ministry had ended, finally being able to meet openly with those closest to him.

"Where would you like to speak with us, Harry?" asked Arthur Weasley after the initial greetings and conversations ended. He assumed from Michelle Goldsmith's information that Harry wished to speak with Remus and him alone.

Instead Harry changed his mind, responding, "Right here in the sitting room. Everyone here can stay. They ought to hear what I have to say, but I need to wait for one more person. I think he'll be arriving soon."

Only Hermione knew that Harry had summoned Evan Harrington to the meeting. The previous evening, Evan supplied Harry with a two-way mirror, similar to the one given to Harry by Sirius years earlier, only about half the size. If he tapped the mirror three times with his wand, Evan's mirror would vibrate. The auror would then move to a safe location where he could speak with Harry. The mirrors worked to perfection, and Evan and Harry both agreed that the auror should attend this meeting. Evan stated that he should be able to arrive at the Burrow by half past ten, once he finished some business at the Ministry.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"CRUCIO!"

Peter Pettigrew collapsed to the cold tile floor, writhing in pain under the unforgivable curse administered by an irate Lord Voldemort. Peter's sin? He did not arrive to tend his master quickly enough, despite the fact that he rushed through the halls of the expansive residence where Voldemort and his followers currently housed themselves.

Though he had suffered under the Cruciatus Curse at least two dozen times over the years, Peter never became immune to its effects. It caused just as much pain this time as the first time. Voldemort lifted the curse quickly, for in reality his ire was not directed at Pettigrew but at Severus Snape, who still had not returned. Though Voldemort recognized that Snape could arrive at any time during the day to meet the instruction to return in two days' time, some instinct informed him that Snape would not be returning. His defection would be disastrous, unforgivable (though Voldemort rarely committed the act of forgiveness), and would require immediate vengeance. Allowing Draco Malfoy a temporary reprieve was one thing; betrayal by Severus Snape quite another.

"Your job is to attend to me, Wormtail, yet you manage to fail even in such a simple assignment," Voldemort sneered, finding solace in the abuse of his servant. Still under the aftereffects of the curse, Peter could not answer, even to apologize abjectly for his impertinence. With great effort he managed to stand, but he noted that his master no longer paid him any attention, clearly deep in thought. Peter remained standing without making a sound so as not to distract the dark lord. They remained that way for several minutes.

"Give me your arm, Wormtail."

Peter knew what this meant. Voldemort meant to summon all of his death eaters to him, even though more than half of them already were within shouting distance. The summons, of course, was intended for one death eater only, even though everyone carrying the dark mark would feel it. Peter pushed the sleeve up his good arm, exposing the mark on his forearm. Almost imperceptibly, Voldemort whipped his wand out and touched it to the mark. Pettigrew gnashed his teeth at the burning pain, which lasted for the ten seconds that Voldemort's wand made contact. Finally, he lifted it, and Peter's shoulders slumped forward as he inhaled deeply.

"We will meet in the sitting room, Wormtail. Dress me."

"Yes, Master," the pitiful servant replied weakly.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

The crunch of his feet on the gravel of the mountain trail almost hypnotized Severus Snape as he hiked slowly along a path in the Swiss Alps. He enjoyed the pleasure of dipping his hands into a babbling creek and sipping the ice cold water. The sun shone comfortably in the sky, with only a few puffy white clouds to mar an otherwise spectacularly blue sky. As he dipped down into a valley, he admired the huge pines and firs.

Then he nearly fell to his knees in pain as he felt the searing heat in the dark mark on his left arm. Quickly he began to breathe in deeply to control his reaction to the pain. He closed his eyes, grasped his arm, and waited. Ten seconds later, the pain subsided, and with a few more deep breaths, he could think rationally again.

Now the dark lord knows, he mused, Now the fun begins. By his failure to answer the summons, Voldemort would confirm his betrayal. Almost certainly, the dark lord already sensed it. The summons would merely convince him of what he already knew deep inside. Voldemort would go to great lengths to find him, torture him, and kill him. Not an optimistic sort to begin with, Snape assumed that his life would soon come to a painful, violent end, but hopefully not quite yet.

Theoretically, Voldemort and his followers had no means by which to locate him. Theoretically. But Snape knew that the dark lord possessed unknown powers. How often had he shook his head in shock at the dark lord's mastery of magic? How often did Voldemort seem to know what others thought before they even thought it?

Snape had two options. He could stay put in this comfortable Swiss resort, hopeful that Voldemort in fact lacked the means by which to track him. Or he could run, changing location every night. Though the second option at first seemed prudent, he realized that constant movement would only increase the chance of an accidental sighting. Up in the Alps, such an accident seemed remote. For the moment he would stay put.

His arm continued to sting, but he stepped forward, again allowing the crunching under his feet to soothe him.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Once the conversations in the Burrow settled down, Harry stared at Ginny for the first time. Despite having spent much of the previous day with her, with so much on his mind, he barely noticed her. But now their eyes met, and they stared stoically at each other. He had half forgotten her beauty, and in fact she seemed prettier now than just six weeks ago, but he also could see pain in her eyes.

Ginny stared back intently, as if trying to send a message to Harry, or perhaps trying to decipher one from him, but she realized that she did not know these eyes. Something had changed them, and not only from absorbing the horcrux. She saw a hardness to them that did not exist during their brief romance of the spring. Finally, she had to look away.

From the corner of the sitting room, Hermione squinted her eyes and observed Harry and Ginny, wondering what silent messages had been delivered between the two. Ron observed Hermione watching Harry, noting the strange expression on her face. He scrunched his eyes, unable to interpret her thoughts.

A knock on the front door broke the uncomfortable moment. Everyone knew that whomever stood outside the door did not know that nobody ever used the front door at the Burrow. Harry jumped out of his chair and reached the door before Arthur could. Absolute silence filled the sitting room as Harry opened the door and the tall, sandy-haired auror entered.

"This is Evan Harrington," Harry informed the shocked onlookers, "He's the auror who's been chasing me. As you can see, we've come to an understanding. Mr. Harrington has been a tremendous help to me. He arranged my interview with the Prophet. I wouldn't be able to be here today without him."

The others in the room, except for Hermione, shared a wide-eyed, shocked expression. Certainly the last person they expected to attend this gathering would be the very auror who had been on Harry's tail for the past several weeks. They remained mute, unsure how to react. Harrington understood their predicament.

"Harry has informed me of the Order of the Phoenix, so you do not need to hide it from me. To put it plainly, I have violated my oath as an auror to help Harry. This decision did not come easily to me and was the product of days of painful consideration. In the end, I could not obey an order to arrest a person not accused of any crime and who posed no danger to the magical population. I've also come to realize that Scrimgeour is not capable of leading this war."

The onlookers continued to gaze warily at him. Clearly Scrimgeour would love nothing more than to infiltrate Dumbledore's secret society, and this could be nothing more than a clever ruse. On the other hand, Harrington could also be the answer to their prayers, a highly placed auror privy to the kind of information to which Kingsley Shacklebolt formerly had access.

"You understand, of course," Arthur indicated with a gesture, "that we need to take great care. Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Harrington. You'll understand if we are reticent in welcoming you into our midst."

Evan smiled knowingly, replying, "And quite rightly. I am willing to submit to veritaserum to verify my loyalties. I expect no less. Understand that there is no turning back for me now."

As a matter of routine, the Order questioned all new members under the truth serum before final initiation, and in fact over the years a few spies had been revealed in that manner. Though Harrington for the moment did not seek membership, use of the serum seemed appropriate and necessary. Arthur glanced at Remus, and both men turned their eyes towards Harry.

"I trust him," Harry answered their unspoken question, "He's proven himself to me. Give him the veritaserum." Arthur and Remus again made eye contact, and Remus nodded his head a few inches.

"Come with us, Mr. Harrington," Arthur instructed, "We'll go to the meeting room. The potion is there."

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Four empty spaces appeared.

Lord Voldemort stared silently and venomously at his followers, all of whom apparated to their current hide-out in response to his summons. All except for four. There should only have been one missing, Draco Malfoy. The death eaters, hardened criminals for the most part, cringed under the glare of their master.

"We have a traitor," he finally hissed, again returning to silence for another half minute. "He has killed two of your brothers, for they would not betray me. But one. One has betrayed me."

By now even the densest death eater, of whom there were several, understood. Snape defected.

"We must deal with this treason promptly. Palmer, Nelson. Come with me. The rest of you may return to your tasks. But take note of what happens when a death eater betrays Lord Voldemort!"

An hour later, Voldemort sat alone, considering his options. He sent two experienced, trusted death eaters, Palmer and Nelson, to the Forbidden Forest to learn what they could, though Voldemort did not expect them to find any clues. Snape would be far too clever for that. He would have killed his companions, and hiding their bodies would be child's play for a wizard of Snape's capabilities.

Voldemort hated this distraction from his primary mission, the recovery and protection of the remaining horcruxes, but Snape's treachery could not be ignored. Already he knew that many of his followers grumbled behind his back, and failure to act decisively at this moment of crisis could lead to more defections. No! Snape must be dealt with promptly.

If as expected Palmer and Nelson returned with no helpful information, then Voldemort would be forced to take action himself. He tried to avoid use of this special magic, unique to himself. He would have to suffer the consequences. The defection of Draco Malfoy did not merit such an extraordinary act, but for Severus Snape, no other option existed.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

Hunger overcame Draco's nerves, and he consumed his first decent meal since his decision to betray the dark lord. Though he would have preferred The Three Broomsticks, he knew that the employees at the Hogshead asked fewer questions. The old bartender looked askance at him in a curmudgeonly way, and Draco hoped the white-haired man simply disapproved of such a young wizard entering such an inappropriate location. Nevertheless, as Draco hoped and expected, nobody bothered him.

As soon as he turned the corner away from the Hogshead, he apparated back to the forest behind the Shrieking Shack, desiring the minimum contact with wizards possible. He walked further among the giant trees until he found a convenient rock on which to rest and ponder. Without warning, the dark mark on his arm burned intensely, and Draco slid off the boulder to the ground, grasping his arm with the other hand. A few yelps escaped his lips, but he managed to control his reaction for the ten painful seconds.

Draco had never felt the pain of a summons by the dark lord, but he heard about it often from his fellow death eaters. Breathing in deeply, he wondered what had occurred to cause the dark lord to issue the call. Could Draco himself be the cause of it? He hoped not, but he could not discount the possibility. He leaned back against the boulder, looked up among the tree tops, and closed his eyes.

The hopelessness of his situation became increasingly apparent, and if he had to do it over again, he would have returned to the dark lord after the botched raid. But that option had already closed. Soon he would need money, but he could not hope to withdraw galleons from Gringott's Bank on Diagon Alley without being noticed and turned in. Even in disguise, he would have to identify himself to the goblins in charge of the bank, and Draco's name now appeared on the known death-eater list. In fact, if he understood correctly, his account may already have been frozen by the Ministry, preventing access to his vault in any event.

Who could help him, he pondered for an extended time? His mother? Out of the question, and Draco could only hope that the dark lord would not punish her for his defection. The families of his friends at Hogwarts? All of his friends belonged to Slytherin House, and as far as he knew, all of them supported the dark lord. They would deliver him to death eaters without hesitation, hoping to be rewarded. Where else could he go? He already tried the muggle world, and knew that he could not survive there. Surrender to the Ministry no longer seemed like such a terrible option. Certainly he would be incarcerated in Azkaban, but if he cooperated with the authorities, perhaps his sentence would be reduced. If nothing else, he would be protected from the dark lord and his minions.

A couple of sharp cracks from deep in the forest snapped Draco out of his meditation. Whether evidence of apparations or simply an animal snapping a dead branch, he could not be sure, but he did not intend to find out. Jumping to his feet as his heart jumped to his throat, he ran as quietly as he could back towards the shack, trying to decide where he could apparate if necessary.

Unknown to Draco, the two cracks announced the arrival of Palmer and Nelson a few hundred yards into the forest, but fortunately for the young wizard, the two experienced death eaters had other matters on their mind, though they would have loved to bump into young Draco all the same. They arrived at the spot where Snape and the others had studied the wards, and the two veteran death eaters conducted a search for a few hours. Predictably, they found nothing, and they returned to report to Voldemort.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"Let's go up to your room," Harry suggested to Ron and Hermione with a knowing glance indicating that the friends needed to talk. "I have some time now."

Harry could not complain about the events of the day at the Burrow. Evan passed the veritaserum test, and Arthur and Remus giddily celebrated the arrival of a new, highly placed source in the Ministry, especially someone such as Evan Harrington. Unlike Michelle Goldsmith, Evan needed no training nor admonitions to be discreet. He was the complete package. Harry indicated vaguely that he had business to attend to at Hogwarts and planned to travel there in the morning, if Professor McGonagall did not object. Though Molly expressed disappointment that Harry would stay at the Burrow only one night, Arthur and Remus did not press him for more details, and all agreed that with its wards and other protections, Hogwarts would serve as a relatively safe location.

Hermione followed Ron towards the stairs with Harry behind, but Ginny remained stiffly seated, unsure whether she would be welcomed in their midst. Just yesterday, she felt a part of the group, accompanying them to Grimmauld Place, but now after realizing Harry's changed feelings towards her, she felt like an outcast. Harry noticed that she remained seated, and he held back for a moment. The two friends made eye contact, and Harry tilted his head towards the stairs, inviting her to follow. Ginny hesitated another moment, but then nodded her head, and stood.

"It's great to have you back here, mate," Ron joked with a smile, playfully punching his friends arm, "Ginny and I have been spending WAY too much time together." Ginny made a face, but she did not verbally disagree.

"I can think of worse people to spend time with," Harry countered, smiling at Ginny. She smiled in return, less enthusiastically, for she could see that Harry's smile was forced, his compliment routine. Nevertheless, she appreciated his comment and the fact that he invited her to come upstairs in the first place.

Hermione and Ginny positioned themselves comfortably on "Harry's bed" in Ron's room, while Ron sat on his bed, and Harry pulled up the only chair in the room, turning it towards him and resting his arms over the back. Though they had occupied the same positions on many occasions in the past, this did not seem like old times. Despite the initial humor, tension immediately filled the small room.

"I'm going to Hogwarts tomorrow," Harry announced without preamble, "I'd like all of you to come too, if you can."

Ron nodded knowingly, having fully expected that Harry would be moving to Hogwarts soon, given that two of the three remaining horcruxes resided there.

"I'm going," he declared decisively, "I'll just pack a few things. I won't need much, we can always come back if we need anything."

Hermione readjusted her position as she explained, "I asked my parents last night. Actually, I guess I should say I informed them that I would be gone for awhile. They weren't too happy about it, and I had to make up a story about needing special training because of my Head Girl position. I need to go back home today, but I'll be back here tomorrow morning." She pursed her lips, clearly displeased at having to deceive her parents.

Ginny felt much more conflicted. She wanted to go, but the proximity to Harry would be painful, especially because they almost certainly would not have the opportunity to discuss their relationship. Harry had much more important matters to attend to, and she could not do anything to distract him. In the end, however, she felt the pull.

"I'm going too," she asserted less persuasively than her brother.

"We'll have to ask your mother," Hermione noted nervously, "since you aren't seventeen yet." She bit her bottom lip, fearing both that Mrs. Weasley would not allow Ginny to leave, and that Mrs. Weasley might in fact permit it. Which would be better? On the one hand, Ginny knew about the horcruxes, had accompanied the others to Grimmauld Place the previous day, and deserved to be with them. But Harry most definitely did not need romantic distractions, and even if Ginny gave her best effort to avoid a confrontation, it seemed almost inevitable.

"I'll go anyway," Ginny declared defiantly, "I don't care what . . ."

Harry sternly cut her off before she could finish, snarling, "You'll go only if your mother allows it. I'll talk to her." Ginny shuddered at Harry's tone, which permitted no dissent. It was a tone of voice that any death eater would have recognized in an instant.

xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx

"You may leave," Lord Voldemort hissed under his breath, barely audibly. Palmer and Nelson quietly and quickly left the dark lord's room. Peter Pettigrew as usual stood almost imperceptibly near the corner.

After a lengthy silence in which neither man moved an inch, Voldemort suddenly asked, "What time is it, Wormtail?"

A large grandfather clock stood at the far end of the bed chamber, easily within view of Voldemort, who despite his other infirmities enjoyed excellent eyesight. Yet he asked Peter for the time anyways, never losing a chance to treat his servant condescendingly. Peter stepped forwards a couple of steps to read the clock.

"Four ten in the afternoon, master."

"Leave me now, Wormtail. You may rest. We have a long night ahead of us. Return to my chamber at eleven fifty tonight. We will leave at midnight."

Peter involuntarily began to shake, overwhelmed with fear at what awaited him. He had no idea where they would travel or what Voldemort planned, but he knew it dealt with Severus Snape. He also knew that it would not be pretty.