Chapter 21

You Know Who Is Back

The evening with his mentor, and now teacher, passed wonderfully, and Harry once again found himself awed by the old man's knowledge and mastery of magic. Though Harry's magical abilities had increased tremendously over the past few months, he soon discovered that Legilimency and Occlumency depended more on strength of mind and ability to concentrate. Harry had plenty of the former, but struggled with his concentration. Extraneous thoughts kept breaking his focus, and his frustration increased, though Dumbledore constantly reassured him.

His last words to Harry summarized his message: "Patience and practice."

Arriving back at Hogwarts, thanks to Fawkes, the tired young wizard returned to an empty common room, looking forward to a date with his pillow. The younger students had already gone to bed, and the older ones remained at the Halloween Ball. He took a few steps towards his dormitory when he noticed one figure in the otherwise empty common room; Ginny sat glumly close to the fire. Of course she saw Harry enter, but she did not move a muscle, staring vacantly into the fire. Harry stood still for a few moments before deciding that to be polite he should sit by the fire himself, if only for a few minutes.

Ginny glanced briefly at Harry, but immediately focused back on the flames. She had already dressed for bed, though Harry could only see the lower part of her red pajamas beneath the white robe she had tied around her midsection. Her recently washed hair no longer contained any pins or other restraints but hung naturally down to her shoulders, and a little below.

"Didn't go to the Ball?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. Ginny merely shook her head. "I'm sorry about that, Ginny; I hoped someone would ask you. I know you enjoy dancing." Ginny remained silent with an empty expression on her face, staring into the fire.

Harry waited a moment to allow her the opportunity to speak, but when she did not, he tried a different tack, "So are you going to tell me what an insensitive git I am for not asking you, or are you just going to sit there?" A trace of anger could be heard in his voice.

Again, Ginny merely shook her head but remained silent. Harry stared at her a bit longer, the fire light flickering in her red hair, until certain that she did not plan to speak.

He stood abruptly and commented sarcastically, "Well, I'm glad we had this little talk. We'll have to do it again sometime."

After he took a couple of steps towards his bed, Ginny softly broke her silence, "Don't go. I'm sorry I'm not talking. I'm just depressed right now." Harry turned around and settled into the chair again, staring at the fire.

"Depressed because of the ball?"

She nodded, "That set it off, I guess. I would have liked to go, you know that, but it's too late for that now. But it's more than that; I just feel like nothing is going the way I want it to now. Nothing is right!"

After a brief laugh, Harry responded, "I know how that feels. I've been feeling it for seventeen years."

She looked at him with surprise, not expecting that answer.

"I guess you're right. It's easy to forget that you've had a lot of bad things happen to you."

"It's not easy for me to forget."

"I know. But on the other hand, you're rich and famous, powerful, handsome. Every girl in Hogwarts wants to cuddle up with you, if you want to know the truth." She shifted in her chair, bending her legs under her.

"I'd give it all away if I could get out of doing what I have to do. But I can't. You understand that, don't you?" Harry asked. She nodded. "And I'm not looking to cuddle up with any girls, OK?" Ginny smiled - not a forced smile but a genuine one.

"I'm sorry I've put pressure on you, Harry. I can only guess what you have to do, but Hermione explained some things to me yesterday and today, and I know I shouldn't have done what I did last summer. Don't worry about me, OK? You have enough to worry about?"

Suddenly all the reasons why Harry liked Ginny in the first place came flooding back to him. Why had they broken up? For what possible reason should they not be together? For a shining moment all reason left him, and he could find no reason why he should not scoop her up in his arms again and plant a kiss on her lips. But then the moment passed, and he remembered why. The second of blissful ignorance vanished, and the enormous task ahead of him reappeared. He inhaled deeply.

"I'll try not to worry, Ginny. Maybe someday all of this will be behind us. Hermione told me once that someday it will all be better. I just hope that will come true." They both stared into the fire again, lost in their thoughts.

Students began trickling through the portrait door from the ball. Harry's thoughts turned to Ron and Hermione at the dance, wondering how they got along. He did not have to wait long for an answer, for the two of them walked through the door hand in hand, faces flushed. Harry knew he should not have been stunned, but stunned he was. His friends happily conversed, oblivious to his presence for some time. Ginny took in the scene, sensing Harry's shock and discomfort. Would things ever be the same among them?

Hermione stood beautifully in her glittering blue gown, though her hair, which no doubt had been painstakingly prepared prior to the festivities, now frayed at the edges from dozens of dances with Ron. There could be no doubt; Ron and Hermione were now "together" in the official sense. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Harry's mind went blank, unable to perform simple addition or a first-year spell.

"I never danced so much in my life," Hermione laughed, "my feet are killing me, with these shoes." She removed two extremely uncomfortable high heels, smiling from ear to ear at her first real boyfriend. Harry could feel his friends' happiness radiating through the common room, but it did not penetrate his skin.

Ron's face flushed pink from exertion and who knows what else (Harry certainly did not want to know), and he appeared dazed, perhaps disbelieving that he could finally call Hermione his girlfriend. He giggled slightly at Hermione's comment, when from the corner of his eye he glimpsed his best mate seated by the fire. Ron abruptly pulled his hand from Hermione's, whose smile vanished as she wondered what had happened. A moment later, she noticed Harry too.

The most uncomfortable silence of their lives ensued, none of them having the foggiest idea of what to say or do. Harry knew that the "proper" thing would be to offer his hearty congratulations to the happy couple. Fat chance of that! He had no desire to make things easy for them. Ron and Hermione knew they could not simply ignore their best friend, so they forced their way towards the fire. The common room, which moments before hummed with the activity of returning dancers, hushed, as witnesses surreptitiously observed the famous threesome from afar.

Ron, handsome in his dress robes (purchased from Harry's Triwizard Tournament winnings), cast his eyes downward and shuffled his feet, incapable of speech, hoping that Hermione would think of something to say. She appeared to be deep in thought as to what to do, when Ginny decided to help out.

"Looks like you two had fun tonight."

Hermione and Ron's faces flushed red, but at least Hermione now could more naturally speak, "Yes, the ball was fantastic, everyone had a great time. I'm exhausted from so much dancing." She pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen in her eyes.

Ron decided to jump in, "Yeah, the food was great and the band was the best they've ever had; everyone said so."

Harry's brain started functioning again, fortunately. He decided to say something innocuous that would neither encourage nor discourage the new relationship.

"I'm glad the ball was nice."

Another silence, which Harry had no intention of breaking. Ginny almost enjoyed the little drama, but something inside her wanted to bring peace and acceptance to the new reality. She decided that she needed to force the action.

"Looks like the two of you had more fun than most," she commented cheekily, "so you are together?"

The redness of Hermione's face increased to that of a ripe tomato, but she had to acknowledge the obvious, "Yes, we've decided to give it a try." She carefully avoided Harry's eyes. Ron merely nodded his agreement.

C'mon Harry, he thought to himself, say something nice! Be big about it. You should be happy for them. Don't be selfish! Unfortunately he could not bring himself to say a word.

Ginny's efforts had not produced the positive results she anticipated. Harry did not cooperate, and Ron and Hermione did not elaborate. She wondered more than ever if relations among the three could be the same.

"So what did you two do during the ball?" asked Hermione, trying desperately to change the subject.

"Oh, I did some homework, played some wizard's chess with a couple of second years, took a shower, nothing special. What were you doing, Harry? You weren't here all night," Ginny asked.

"A little of this, a little of that," Harry responded coldly, resentful of this attempt to draw him into the conversation. "I'm pretty tired now. You must be too," he mentioned meaningfully, "I'm going to turn in." And with that he abruptly made his way up to his room, taking the stairs two at a time.

You're an idiot, Harry! He berated himself while staring at the dark ceiling above his bed, Why did you want to ruin their big event? Ron didn't ruin it for you when you kissed Ginny last year.

True, Harry answered himself, but Ginny was not one of us. She didn't fight the troll, or find the Philosopher's Stone, or Sirius' escape, all of that. She's not one of US.

Nothing lasts forever, you selfish git. Get over it!

All right, all right, I will. Just give me a little time. As Harry drifted to an uneasy sleep, he had never felt so alone.

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Over the next days, the three friends remained inseparable, daring fate to divide them, yet the awkwardness of the situation could not be avoided. Ron and Hermione carefully refrained from hand-holding or other signs of affection while in Harry's presence, which seemed to be most of the time. Nonetheless, Harry could feel the anxiousness of the two friends, and he felt out of place, yet every time he graciously attempted to leave them alone for one pretext or another, his friends would come with him. After a while, they drove him crazy. None spoke openly of their new reality.

By the end of the week, Harry had done his best to come to terms with the romantic leanings of his friends, and even envied them. He would remain alone, probably for the rest of his life, which he continued to assume would come to a tragic, abrupt end. Eventually Ron and Hermione occasionally accepted Harry's attempts to leave them alone, and Harry resolved to refrain from thinking about how his two friends occupied their time together, which of course only caused him to think about it even more.

More than ever, Harry felt he was wasting his time at Hogwarts, and he seriously considered whether he should leave. He managed to squeeze in two more visits with Dumbledore for his lessons, but with the mundane requirements of homework and classes, finding time to visit the headmaster proved difficult. He resolved more than once to inform McGonagall of his decision to leave, only to lose his nerve.

Two concerns weighed on him. The Daily Prophet would undoubtedly learn of Harry's absence within a day or two, and would print a sensationalistic article about presumed reasons for his departure. Given the effect of his words in August, he knew that many parents would promptly remove their children from the school. In no way did Harry want to harm Hogwarts.

Even more problematic, if he left, Ron and Hermione would come with him. Not only would that make the Prophet story even more sensational (Head Girl Abandons Hogwarts), but Harry would not be able to visit Dumbledore easily with the two of them around. He could always sneak out of Hogwarts unannounced, but the damage to the school would remain, and his two best friends would never forgive him.

As the middle of November arrived, Harry finally determined that something had to change. He felt almost back to normal and had wasted far too much time. At last he settled upon an internal compromise, which led him to Professor McGonagall's office.

"Are you leaving the campus again, Mr. Potter?" the harried headmistress asked, as she scurried around her desk searching for a document.

"Actually professor, it is more than that." The document forgotten, McGonagall ceased moving and directed her gaze at Harry.

"Explain yourself please."

Harry rarely felt so nervous, but his resolve remained firm.

"Many things have been happening lately, Professor, and I need to concentrate on them. I have two options that I can see. The first is for me to leave Hogwarts altogether. Frankly, I would prefer to follow this path, but I am aware of the damage that this would cause to Hogwarts." The headmistress' paled complexion demonstrated that McGonagall understood perfectly. "The second option, if you should agree, is that I will remain at Hogwarts but will be allowed to leave the grounds and to miss classes and exams as necessary. Without prior notice. If you cannot agree with the second option, then I will be leaving Hogwarts this evening." Harry meant every word.

McGonagall dropped into her chair, unhappy with both proposed options. As she calculated the consequences of her decision, the ramifications became clear.

"What will Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger do if you leave Hogwarts?"

"I have not spoken with them about this. I will encourage them to stay, but I will not prevent them from coming with me if they choose. This is their fight too."

The professor knew what that meant. They would leave. She did not need to be a genius to understand immediately the catastrophic effect this would have on Hogwarts. Harry Potter and the Head Girl leave. The Prophet would have a field day like few others, and most assuredly Hogwarts would lose at least half of its student body. Her beloved Hogwarts would have to close its doors. Thus the options came down to forcing Harry to leave, in which case Hogwarts would cease to exist, or swallowing the second option.

"I appear to have little choice, Mr. Potter. But you already knew that, did you not?" Harry managed a weak smile.

"I had a pretty good idea, Professor. Please believe me when I say I receive no pleasure from this. The last thing I want to do is to hurt Hogwarts. But what I have to do is extremely important. I cannot waste any more time."

The headmistress rose from her chair and regained her composure. Harry vaguely noticed that she no longer seemed as tall as she did when he first arrived at Hogwarts.

"My only request, Mr. Potter, is that if and when the Daily Prophet learns of your frequent absences, you will grant an interview with the Prophet to assure the public that you remain satisfied with the security at Hogwarts." Harry nodded his consent. "Whatever you must do, Harry, I wish you the best of luck."

Hermione was of two minds when Harry informed her of the conversation with McGonagall and the fact that he would be away from Hogwarts more frequently. She expressed her ire that he had not consulted with Ron and her first, but Harry remained unapologetic.

"You would have tried to talk me out of it," he argued, having considered the matter in depth earlier. "My mind was made up."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't have asked us what we thought about it."

"Why? So that you could get upset with me, lecture me, tell me I'm trying to get myself killed? I've heard it all before, Hermione. Everything you would have told me, I thought to myself. I'm healthy now, almost one hundred percent. There's no excuse to keep wasting time." Harry had prepared himself for this confrontation, and he glared intensely at his friend.

Deep down, Hermione had to admit her relief that Harry provided McGonagall with the second option, for she did not want to leave Hogwarts, not now. She held the position of Head Girl, which she found fulfilling. She had just begun a romance with Ron, still in the giddy early phases of the relationship. If Harry left Hogwarts, she would have had to go with him; she would not abandon him. She decided she had made her point and would not push it further.

"OK Harry, what's done is done. What are you going to be doing all the time?" She casually flicked a few hairs off of her shoulder. Harry noticed that she seemed to have spent more time with her hair than usual, no doubt the result of having to impress a boyfriend. Harry knew, of course, that such efforts would be largely wasted on the oblivious Ron.

"Well, among other things, I will be meeting with the person I told you about. I've met with him a couple of times, and he has helped me learn some things that may help me. Also, he thinks I should learn Occlumency better, because he thinks Voldemort will try to attack my mind again, sooner or later. He's agreed to teach me, and he's given me two lessons. I've learned more in those two lessons than I did in all my lessons with Snape." Harry's voice betrayed his excitement, and even optimism.

"But we need to find the next horcrux, or figure out if there is another one out there. How are we going to do that?"

"I'm working on that too. But these lessons will help me I think."

Hermione eyed him warily, "You're up to something, aren't you. I know you too well. You're coming up with some super risky, super dangerous scheme. That's why you don't want to talk about it to us, right?"

Instead of denying it, his first inclination, Harry gave Hermione a big smile and grabbed her hand, laughing, "Something like that." Then before his friend could react, he rushed away.

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The headmaster in Professor Dumbledore did not find pleasure in Harry's decision to cut classes at will, but the former head of the Order of the Phoenix could see the big picture. Harry began to visit the professor every day to study Legilimency (which Harry had intentionally failed to mention to Hermione), Occlumency, and possession of animals.

Dumbledore insisted that Harry master Occlumency before starting the art of mind reading. Whereas Snape's teaching method essentially involved repeated attacks on Harry's mind, Dumbledore started slowly, helping Harry learn how to clear his mind.

"Try to focus on a wall of ice, Harry, or if you prefer, a plain block wall. Focus on the ice and then let your mind enter the ice, or the wall, until you are in the middle of it. Think of it as a barrier through which thoughts cannot penetrate."

At first, Dumbledore could have been speaking Mermish for all Harry understood, but each day he advanced. Soon Harry's wall of ice developed into the same wall each time, with chunks of rock and dirt. Dirty ice. Opaque ice. The ice was fine, but forcing himself into the middle of it proved to be virtually impossible. Every time he felt close to succeeding, he would think, I'm almost there, at which point he lost his focus. He needed to clear his mind of clearing his mind.

His teacher expressed satisfaction at Harry's progress, and the young man felt happiest when with the old man. At times Winky arrived to prepare meals and tend to the headmaster, but then she would leave the two men to themselves. In between lessons, they talked of many things, which they had never had the opportunity to discuss before. Dumbledore's health varied from day to day, but he always perked up when Harry arrived. Facing death calmly, the elderly man took the opportunity to relate tales of his youth to Harry, who soaked in every word. Among other things, he learned of Dumbledore's family, his years at Hogwarts, and various of his studies. Surprisingly, the professor never mentioned his most acclaimed accomplishment, the defeat of the dark lord Grindelwald many years ago. It seemed to be of no importance to him.

After a few days, Harry felt comfortable enough to ask his teacher something he had often thought about.

"Sir, I understand that you never married. Why not?" Harry wondered whether he would answer or evade the question.

"Ah, well Harry, that is a simple question without a simple answer. The fact of the matter is that I had the affections of several women in my youth, but my attentions were always divided. Not until many years later did I understand that women require a great deal of effort and attention, and instinctively I knew that I could not sustain that kind of dedication. Which is not to say I did not desire marriage, for I did, but on the two occasions where I seriously considered it, I could not cast the spell, so to speak. Long ago I accepted the consequences of my decisions, Harry, and I have lived a long and interesting life. But I have been lonely."

Harry nodded in complete understanding, for his loneliness had increased since Halloween. He had only been close to two females in his life (Cho did not count in his view). Now he rarely spoke with Ginny, and Hermione had occupied herself with not just any boy, but Harry's best friend.

Maybe I'll end up like Dumbledore, he thought, I guess that wouldn't be so bad.

As if reading his thoughts, Dumbledore added, "I doubt that you would choose a life like mine, Harry. Comparisons are made between us, I am aware, but our personalities and backgrounds are polar opposites. I was raised by a loving family and given the finest magical education. Early on I developed a love for books, research, and critical thinking. Largely due to my errors, you were raised by abusive relatives who took no interest in your education and did not allow you to develop the love for learning. In reality, Harry, I am much more similar in personality and background with your great friend, Miss Granger. No, I do not believe that the solitary life of an educator is up your alley at all."

This all made sense to Harry, but it only served to deepen his sense of abandonment and loneliness, which the headmaster could not help but detect. Dumbledore remained silent, however, allowing Harry the option of talking about it or not.

Finally Harry confessed, "You're right, I think. I was never allowed books to read as a kid, except for school. Now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever read a whole book just for pleasure. And if I live, I won't want a solitary life, but that's what I have now. After you died, I mean, after your funeral, I broke up with Ginny because I knew I had to concentrate on the horcruxes. That's been tough on both of us. At least I had Ron and Hermione, but now they have gotten together at the Halloween Ball. I mean, they're still my friends, but . . ."

"It's not the same," Dumbledore concluded, "I well understand, Harry. I was young once too. Perhaps a story from my distant past will be of some comfort to you. During my years at Hogwarts, I became great friends with a witch from Ravenclaw, Anna was her name. She became quite dear to me during my sixth and seventh years, and as adolescents of that age are prone to do, we both thought of a future together. One year after we graduated, I had continued with my studies while she had returned to help in her family's enterprise, and we barely spoke to each other anymore. Do not misunderstand me, we did not fight or have a horrible falling out; we simply drifted apart. Occasionally I saw Anna over the years, after she had married and had children, and while she remained a wonderful person, I wondered why I ever had romantic feelings for her. Hogwarts is but a brief moment in your life, Harry, and in the lives of your friends, do not believe that your life will be immutable upon your graduation. No, life changes you a thousand times. Whether the woman meant for you is currently at Hogwarts or is unknown to you, witch or muggle, cannot be known. The key is that you remain ready for whatever life throws your way."

Harry ran his fingers though his untidy locks, responding, "I guess it's hard for me to see that far ahead. Right now it looks to me that I'm going to die a young and lonely man."

"For that, I cannot blame you Harry. Your burden is great. But do not forget the prophecy upon which Voldemort has placed such importance. You have the power he knows not. You have the ability to defeat him. Just as you do not enter a Quidditch match believing that you will inevitably lose, you must not take a defeatist attitude with your inevitable battle." Harry nodded knowingly, to which the professor added with a smile, "Speaking of which, I think the time has come to return to our lesson."

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Dumbledore's pep talk seemed to have done the trick, because for the first time Harry fully entered the "ice wall" in his mind, completely emptying his mind of all thought. Unknown to him, Dumbledore used the Legilimens spell in an attempt to enter Harry's mind, but was blocked, as he expected. No matter how powerful the wizard performing the spell, he cannot enter a mind perfectly at rest, closed to all stimuli. The professor smiled with satisfaction, for he knew that Occlumency was much like riding a broom; once you have the feel, you never lose it.

Despite his loneliness, Harry felt more optimistic than he had in ages; something about conversations with Dumbledore could do that for him. Ecstatic about his Occlumency achievement, Fawkes transported Harry back to Hogwarts, already thinking about practicing his Occlumency again when he went to bed. Stepping into the hall down a few doors from the Gryffindor common room, Harry froze, surprised to witness a great commotion.

Students streamed out of the common room in their bed clothes, for Harry knew that the time had passed midnight. Even more surprising, the normally invisible house elves bustled about out in the open moving trunks from the common room, yelling excitedly to each other in their elvish tongue. Harry ran down the hall and squeezed into the common room.

"Hurry up, HURRY UP," screamed a frazzled Hermione in a blue bath robe, "We need to evacuate now! Don't worry about your trunks. They'll be sent to you. Hurry!" Harry also saw Ron shooing the sleepy first and second years towards the opening.

"What's happening?" Harry half yelled to Hermione to be heard above the din.

"There you are! We have to leave now. The castle is not safe, that's all we know. McGonagall says we haven't been attacked, but something has happened."

Hermione rushed away to push a few others out the door. Harry took in the scene, and could not help himself; he laughed. All the thought and worry he put into deciding whether to stay at Hogwarts, the nervous talk with Professor McGonagall, the desire not to do anything to harm Hogwarts - all a waste of time. Strangely enough, Harry felt elated, though he knew he should not. Something terrible had happened, clearly, but he would be free of Hogwarts, and as far as he was concerned, nothing could be better.

He did not feel the least bit worried about Hogwarts being attacked, for only he knew that the wards on the castle remained in place since Dumbledore had not died, but of course he could not inform anybody. Casually climbing the stairs to his dormitory he called for Dobby. The house elf appeared in a moment out of breath.

"Harry Potter must leave Hogwarts. All students are leaving."

"Yes, I know, Dobby. Do you know what's happened?"

"Dobby heard Professor McGonagall say that the Ministry was attacked, Harry Potter. Dark wizards attacked the Ministry, and Hogwarts is not safe now. Harry Potter must leave now."

Harry looked for his trunk and belongings.

"Where's my trunk, Dobby?"

"Dobby moved Harry Potter's trunk to his home. Everything is done. Harry Potter just needs to go. Harry's Granger and Weezey can go too. Dobby will come when Dobby finishes helping here."

"Very well, Dobby. You have done very well. Thank you. I'll see you at Grimmauld Place." Dobby popped away, and Harry looked around the sterile dormitory room, his home for the past six and a half years. Just a few minutes ago, he knew, there had been clothes, books, parchment, quills and other ephemera strewn about the large dormitory. Would he ever see this room again? Would he ever see the common room again? He threw himself on his bed one last time, enjoying its comfort for about half a minute.

Calmly walking to the Great Hall, Harry viewed the stream of students walking under the watchful eyes of prefects and teachers out the front door, across the moonlit grounds, towards the front gates. In the Hall, McGonagall directed a couple of teachers, who immediately rushed off to accomplish their tasks. Noticing Harry, she motioned him to come over. She moved towards the wall of the Great Hall to avoid being overheard, and Harry had never seen her so harried.

"What has happened, Professor?" He asked softly.

"You Know Who is back. He's attacked the Ministry."

Harry felt no sense of surprise.

"So did the attack succeed?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, You Know Who now controls the Ministry offices. I believe Minister Scrimgeour escaped, but many have fallen," McGonagall reported, a look of despair on her face.

"What's going to happen now?" questioned Harry, mostly rhetorically.

"I don't know, Harry," McGonagall sighed, "but you need to understand reality. For the moment, there is no Ministry. There is no government, no law and order." She paused, and Harry noticed that she gazed at Harry with soft, almost loving eyes. "You must be vigilant and extremely careful, Harry. The Order will continue its fight, and you must continue yours."

Harry suddenly realized that McGonagall meant to use this moment to say her goodbyes, for she knew that they may never see each other again.

"I will professor. I'm sorry for all the problems I caused for you this year. I can't thank you enough for all that you have done."

"On the contrary, Harry, I must thank you. I may as well tell you, Hogwarts nearly failed to open in September. When the Prophet printed your comments at Diagon Alley, we were flooded with returning students. But the future is what matters now." The elderly witch's voice choked. "I have confidence in you, Harry Potter. Professor Dumbledore often assured me that you would become a great wizard, and I see now that he was correct. I'm sorry that the hopes of the wizarding world rest on your shoulders, but yours are the only shoulders which can bear them. Let me know how I can help you in any way." Harry had never seen the professor so emotional before, and it affected him deeply.

"We will meet again, Professor. Don't give up hope! In a way, I think Voldemort coming out into the open may be the best thing that could have happened. We'll soon have a surprise for him," Harry asserted, feeling strangely confident, "I'll be ready for him this time."