Chapter 3 - All those annoying gits

It was early May and the great outdoors should have already shown some signs of springtime, but a glance out the window only showed that depressing fog which was oh-so-common around the UK these days.

Literally depressing!

This fog also frequented the public speeches of this young upstart Blair, which probably assisted in his sensational win of the last general election.

Letting the press call him 'Tony' - honestly?!

Hand clapping from downstairs pulled Mr Major's attention from his wandering thoughts to the fact that the new Prime Minister of the United Kingdom has entered No 10. He carefully raised from the desk which wasn't his any more and moved himself to the armchairs by the fireplace.

Less intruding this way.

He took care to gather two generous glasses of good single-malt from the bar on his way there.

Those will be needed, he thought to himself.

Generally speaking, he wasn't supposed to be here today. He and the new Prime Minister were set for a meeting tomorrow noon, together with the cabinet secretary, to go over all those pesky 'top secret' issues, but he wanted to correct something that dear Margrate neglected to do. He also wanted to see the look on 'Tony's' face, when told that truth.

For now, he just sat and looked at the fog out the window - lost in thoughts.

The ice age is coming, the sun's zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat is growing thin
Engines stop running, but I have no fear
'Cause London is drowning

I don't live by the river any more, his mind added, and a thin smile reached his face.

Prime Minister Anthony Charles Lynton Blair - 'Tony' to his spouse, three children, the press, and everyone in the kingdom, was clearly surprised to find his predecessor sitting in his new office.

"We are scheduled for tomorrow noon, are we not?" he asked.

Awkward…

Former Prime Minister Major raised respectfully from his chair. "There are a few important issues to discuss," he answered non-committally. "Thank you Robin?" he then dismissed with some satisfaction the Cabinet secretary, who used to work for him till that morning.

"It might be best if…" Sir Robin started to say. Being involved was the prime definition of his role in the government, but John Major was having none of that.

"I'm sorry," he said, with not even a hint of remorse in his voice, "but what we need to discuss - you don't have clearance for."

"Good luck handling the Civil Service," Major added with a smirk after Sir Robin had left the room. "If pushed to the corner, always offer reforms," He made an effort to help his young replacement. The civil Service was the real enemy after-all. "See this button here," he then pointed to a small button underneath the Prime Minister's bureau. "It stops everyone from listening in. Works for phone calls too. Generally speaking, you would like your people to listen in and witness, but sometimes…" he shrugged.

"What is it about, John?" The new Prime Minister asked. "I have never heard of the former Prime Minister waiting for the new Prime Minister, after the elections were won?"

John Major sighed, took a sip from his glass, and motioned Tony Blair to sit and do the same. "A mistake I'm trying to correct," he answered. He then took a deep breath and told Prime Minister Blair with the most level tone he could muster -

"The UK is home to a community of People and beings, who are capable of using magic and are hidden from the general public."

Naturally, the newly elected Prime Minister Blair looked at former Prime Minister Major as if he was a few pence short of a pound.

"What is it," he asked. "Let's prank the new Prime Minister day? What else will you now reveal to me? That Extraterrestrials are real and the UK is holding a secret space program to protect Earth from an impending invasion?"

Major took another sip from his glass. "Well," he answered, "I know nothing regarding Extraterrestrials. Sounds much more up our American friend's alley, is it not? But wizards and magic are real. Worse yet, they are in a state of civil war at this time, and it doesn't seem that their government has it in hand, as much as their Minister tries to assure me otherwise."

"War? Seriously?" Blair asked and finally took a sip from his drink.

John Major sighed heavily. "This fog?" he motioned out the window, "is the sign of some demented Demons, which feed on people's happiness," he explained. "Honestly!" he added, at Blair's wide eyes. "The Minister tells me they used to work for their government as prison guards, but now serve the terrorists."

"Minister?" Blair asked weakly.

"This bloke Scrimgeour. He'll be visiting soon. Huge improvement over the former git, let me tell you," Major added a non-explanation. "This ugly portrait will announce him and then he will come out of the fire. Have you been introduced to Kingsley, at the outer office?"

Blair took another sip and nodded slightly.

"Apparently he's a Wizard combination of a bobby and a special force agent. He's here to protect you from…"

In an haphazardly perfect timing a light knock sounded from the door and said Kingsley showed. "The Minister for Magic would like to visit at your earliest convenience, Mr Prime Minister," He announced politely.

"Owe," Major complained. "I was looking forward to seeing his face when the portrait started talking."

There was a slight smirk on Kingsley's face now. "I had the notion that you found the talking portrait to be disturbing, sir?" he asked.

"Indubitably!" Major agreed and pointed his now almost empty glass at the said portrait.

A soft cough, coming from said portrait, pulled their combined attention. "Minister Scrimgeour is ready to come through," announced the person in the portrait. "And I will truly appreciate not being called 'ugly'," he added, clearly miffed.

"Prime Minister Blair made a motion towards the portrait with his glass, as if to say - 'If the shoe fits'. He then took a longer sip from said glass and went looking for the bottle.

"Might be best to take a step back from the fireplace," Kingsley offered with an easy smile.

Soon enough, bright green flames burst into life in the empty grate beneath the marble mantelpiece and out came a tall person, who had the look of an old lion about him. He walked slowly, with a slight limp, leaning on a decorated walking stick.

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly towards Kingsley. Kingsley bowed back and left the room.

"I'm Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic," He presented himself with a somewhat gruff voice. "Congratulations for winning the election, Prime Minister Blair."

"How do you do," Blair answered somewhat lamely. He had no experience at all with people appearing out of fireplaces and didn't know the right thing to say.

"And Mr Major," Scrimgeour added. "What a surprise meeting you here today."

John Major smirked slightly and saluted the newcomer with his glass. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he said. "Here, have a seat, take a glass - you have some explaining to do."

Minister Scrimgeour grimaced at these words.

It was well after midnight when Prime Minister Blair finally stood alone in his new office, looking out at the fog, which he now knew to be the sign of mating Dementors. That thought has sent a shiver down his spine.

Not all was well in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. A terrorist was waging a civil war on the country's citizens, both magical and not. Authorities were either blissfully ignorant of this, or were doing their utmost best to make a brave show to their people and actually do bugger all. They would not even call this terrorist by his name, for goodness sake!

Each person was waiting for someone else to take the mantle of the fight, so they could sweep in in the end and take the credit. Ultimately, they relied on this poor boy, not yet through his Secondary School, to do their work for them.

A boy and his two friends.

With a sigh, he pressed a button on his desk and an intercom pinged at the outer office.

"Nora?" he asked. "I'm calling it a day. Tomorrow, please see if you can find any information about three people. One Harry Potter of Surry; One Hermione Granger of London; and one Ron Weasley of Devon, though I'm doubtful you'll find anything regarding the last one. They are all about seventeen years old."

Nora acknowledged him, probably happy to go home herself.

"And Nora?" he added after another thought. "Please don't involve the service at this time?"

"Yes Prime Minister," she answered softly.

"There you are, Mr Potter, I was looking for you all over school," said a rather miffed Professor McGonagall as soon as Harry entered the great hall for dinner. "The Headmaster requests your presence in his office at your earliest convenience."

Harry looked at the loaded tables with some want, but once more, his actual convenience was not a factor.

"I will keep some sandwiches for you," Hermione promised and headed to the Gryffindor table, where she was swarmed by people of all houses asking questions about their studies.

"Enter!" sounded Dumbledore's voice, as soon as Harry was at his door. "Splendid! Would you like to join me and collect another one?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore critically. He truly looked like death warmed over. "Is it well protected?" he asked.

"I would expect it to be," the Headmaster shrugged.

"Wouldn't it be best to bring a curse breaker with us then, sir?" Harry offered delicately.

"It is only natural to be afraid, Harry."

"Not afraid, sir. I'm just trying to be practical and invite a professional to help with this job. Also, sir, you don't appear to be at your top form, lately," Harry elaborated bluntly.

If this bothered the Headmaster in any way, he didn't show any signs of ot and just proceeded out his office, down the many staircases, and towards the castle doors and the grounds. "We will need to leave the ward's boundary line to Apparate there," he explained.

"Can we invite Hermione at the least?" Harry went on and offered. "She's very good at handling obstacles these days," he explained discreetly, but the Headmaster just marched on - rather slowly and on unsteady legs.

"I understand you did good on your Apparition studies," Dumbledore finally remarked, disregarding any of Harry's offers to invite any kind of help for their venture.

Harry just nodded.

"Take my hand," Dumbledore offered, "but please try to help. Focus on where I want to go," he instructed. Seconds later Harry was squeezed through a thin tube, then spat out to the smell of salty air and the thin spray of the sea. The way forward involved climbing down a jugged yet slippery rock, then taking a deep in the storming icy water. Several times Harry had to levitate the Headmaster a bit, to support his safe descent. By the time both have reached a cave which was located just above sea level, Dumbledore was breathing heavily, barely able to stand, and Harry was wishing for a broom and a warm sunny summer day.

Thank Merlin for Drying Charms.

"How do we handle those?" Harry asked, as they sailed over the lake of dead bodies which in all probability were Inferi.

"Better not disturb them," Dumbledore answered, and earned an eye roll.

"Nevertheless," Harry insisted, "just in case they unwittingly do get disturbed?"

"Fire," Dumbledore answered and Harry was so surprised to receive a straight answer from the old Headmaster, that he almost found himself 'disturbing' the Inferi.

Finally on the small rocky island, in the middle of the Inferi infested lake, inside a cave in the cliffs in front of the sea, things started to go horribly wrong.

"Bollocks!" Harry remarked eloquently on the clearly fake locket laying at the bottom of the stone basin in front of them. "Well sir, let us head back," he told the Headmaster, but when Dumbledore raised his eyes to him, there was something disturbing in the Headmaster's expression.

"It might be an important clue," Dumbledore stated, trying various ways to reach for the locket. All failing.

"Certainly," Harry agreed, "but it isn't the Hurcrux, so we can take our time and bring in someone professional," he tried and argued. He then blinked when Dumbledore conjured a delicate crystal goblet.

"Someone has to drink this Potion," Dumbledore ignored his suggestion and dipped the goblet into the basin. Surprisingly enough, it sank into the Potion with no resistance. As if Voldemort actually wanted some daft bastard to drink it.

All the more a reason to not do this!

"Mad as a hatter…" Harry mumbled to himself.

"Now, Harry," the Headmaster went on conversationally. "Undoubtedly, this Potion is expected to be unpleasant."

"I say!" Harry easily agreed.

"So I will ask you to make sure I keep drinking," Dumbledore instructed him gravely.

"No bloody way," Harry replied angrily.

"You remember," said Dumbledore, "the condition on which I brought you with me?"

Harry remembered well his half-hearted promise to obey any of the Headmaster's instructions. "I was expecting those to be sane, like," he answered wryly.

Dumbledore gave him a stern look, over the basin and full goblet, then drained it all in one gulp. It's that moment when things went for a ball of chalk. With a painful cry, Dumbledore held his hands to his stomach, then fell to the ground. First to his knees, then to his back. A clear sickening sound announced that this involved a broken bone somewhere along the Headmaster's body. A light clattering sound indicated that Dumbledore had also lost his hold on his wand. This has also extinguished an important light source.

Harry immediately rushed to his help. It was too rushed on his part, since his foot slipped on the ragged yet wet rock and he found himself lying face down, with a wounded ego and a bleeding lip. Some more clattering sounds demonstrated that Harry too has lost his hold on his wand. Those clattering sounds lingered for a short while, then ended with a wet plop.

Some intensive wand polishing will be required! He thought to himself darkly.

This left the cave in the dark, except for the ominous green light coming out of the basin itself. Sod law meant that this was also just enough to disturb the whatevers which lay quietly in the water up till that moment.

Ace!

Some splashing sounds indicated that those whatevers were now moving. With no help from the Headmaster and no wand of his own, Harry did the only thing he could think of. With a groan of pain, he rose to his knees and hurried looking for Dumbledore's wand. What he remembered of the noise it made falling indicated the wand should be not far from where the Headmaster lay, still moaning piteously. Luckily, Harry found the wand easily, even in the dim light of the cave. He grabbed for it and felt that strange yet now familiar coldness washed all over him. It left him winded and disoriented at the most inopportune of moments. Also, as soon as he got a hold of himself once more, that wand was very much missing from his hand. Sloshing and rustling sounds told him that the whatevers were getting closer, though were not yet visible in the dim light.

I get knocked down
But I get up again
You're never
Gonna keep me down!

"Right then, saturating my body with magic," Harry mumbled to himself.

He found this surprisingly easy to do.

The adrenaline, most likely, he thought.

Slightly illuminated figures getting closer indicated that this wasn't probably the best of times to ponder magical theory.

Fire! he whispered in his mind.

All around him, a ring of fire blazed. Dozens of ugly whatevers were now well illuminated. They all burned, yet still shuffled closer to Harry and Dumbledore. Push! He thought, and the closing in Inferi were thrown back into the lake. They kept burning, though, even underwater. More Inferi were coming out of the lake all around the small island, but the water surface was alight and setting them on fire too. The sounds they were making as they burned made Harry nauseous. Harry's body, though, still felt alight with magic. Especially his chest and arms. Never has he felt his magic so willing before.

"My wand" he said, and his wand came out of the water. He grabbed for it with some relief, but could feel no connection with it at all. Like his body short circuited his magic from reaching his wand.

Not the time to ponder magical theory!

Around, the flames he Conjured were dying now, not finding any more Inferi to burn. "Light!" he stated, and went to check on Dumbledore. He was certainly in a dire need for a Healer. A quick examination found shallow breath and a fable heartbeat but he couldn't get any reaction at all from the old man.

This will be fun! He thought, not sure if he meant getting the Headmaster to St. Mungo's or explaining his condition when there.

"What a cock-up…" he mumbled to himself.

They will want a sample of this potion, his mind logically insisted.

He went looking for the goblet the Headmaster had Conjured earlier and surprisingly enough, found it whole right next to the Headmaster. Dumbledore certainly knew his Transfigurations. Now, Harry was a mediocre Transfiguration student at best, but inanimate-to-inanimate Transfiguration while keeping the object's original make, was third-year material and rather easy to do. A moment later, that goblet had a cup. Another moment later it was also full with a sample of the Potion Dumbledore drank. A thought suddenly popped in his mind. It was a stupid thought, but Harry shrugged to himself and a moment later still, the goblet changed once more to now include a small hook on its lip. Another moment later Harry shook his head exasperatedly, as a wet locket dangled at the end of that hook. He secured the locket and the Potion sample in his pocket, Levitated the Headmaster, and started leading him into the boat, across the lake, out the cave - to a place from which he could finally manage to Apparate both of them to the Hospital.

Thank Merlin I have already been there before…

It took Harry more than a day to reach school. Arriving at St. Mungo's opened a whole can of worms. For a long moment, Harry felt like the whole hospital was holding its breath - in shock. Then, everyone got their arses into gear and news started spreading.

It take long for the healers to deduce that there was very little they could do for the venerable Headmaster.

Well, his left Clavicle was healed within a few seconds. Whatever has hurt his hand was something completely different indeed. It has been left not fully treated for much too long. The curse-infection had now spread deep and wide throughout the old man's body. Healers couldn't even say whether anything could have been done for him at an earlier stage.

"The Headmaster told me that Professor Snape was brewing a Potion to help with his hand's condition," Harry told them, but no one knew to say if this was of more help or harm.

An Auror team was dispatched to Hogwarts to bring Snape in for interrogation. Professor McGonagall's insistence that 'The Headmaster has utmost confidence in the said Professor' proved to be much less persuasive than the same words coming out of the horse's mouth, as the saying goes. Mr Snape was now being held at Her Majesty's pleasure. Not that Her Majesty had any knowledge regarding. Mr Snape was not helped by his insistence to say bugger all to his interrogators. Nor by his refusal to explain this Potion he was brewing to the healers, or otherwise brew a sample for them to test.

Then there was the Potion Dumbledore ingested earlier that evening.

"Why would a person, in his right mind, ingest an unknown Potion, certain to be harmful?" asked the Head-Healer, not really expecting an answer.

"Sir," Harry said politely. "This is Dumbledore we're talking about. He was never the full shilling?" Unsurprisingly, no one had anything constructive, never-mind contradictory, to say about that.

Healers commended Harry on bringing in a Potion sample for them to check on. St. Mungo's Potion lab was trying their best to recognise the substance, but no one expected them to succeed in time to actually help the Headmaster. Certainly not successfully brewing an effective antidote on time. Someone did try a Bezoar, but with this Potion, they could have used vacuum cupping just as well.

This bode ill for Harry himself too.

"How can we know you didn't feed this Potion to the Headmaster yourself?" asked the Auror captain on location. Blaming all this headache on Harry was starting to look inviting to the investigating team. Only the arrival of the Minister and a visit inside the hospital's Pensieve stopped Harry from occupying the cell next to Snape.

"What were you doing there?" asked the Minister. "We need to see the rest of the memory!" he quite rightly insisted.

Harry felt very uncomfortable about this. As much as he disliked Dumbledore's secretive ways, disclosing Horcruxes to the Ministry, then sending Voldemort to collect and better hide the remaining ones, maybe creating a few more while at it, was a horribly bad idea.

"Sir, this isn't my secret to disclose," Harry went with a half-lie, pointing at Dumbledore's hospital room. "I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Was it related to you defeating He-who-must-not-be-named?" the Minister pushed for more details.

"It's high time, Minister, someone actually did something about Voldemort," Harry answered impassively, "instead of 'choosing' me to do your work for you all. Well, it's probably too late for Dumbledore to do anything about it," he then added.

The Minister grimaced at the slight, yet said nothing more. Wasn't too chuffed about Harry using that explicit name as well.

At one time the Minister was called away by a rather anxious looking Auror. Harry saw him listen, give some orders, and sigh deeply, but he stayed in the hospital as they kept their vigil over the old Headmaster's bed. He certainly looked to be hugged and tired.

It was almost morning when the old Headmaster finally succumbed to his numerous ailments and passed away in his bed. Only the head-healer, Minister and Harry stood beside his bed.

"Sorry," the healer mumbled. "There was really nothing we could do."

Harry shrugged tiredly. "He largely did this to himself," he said helplessly. Quite exasperatedly.

"I will need to notify the press," the Minister sighed. "More bad news." To the sight of both Healer and Harry looking at him questionably, he elaborated - "You-know-who attacked Azkaban earlier tonight. He freed all his followers once more. With the Dementors helping him - there's nothing much we can do to protect it."

"Bellatrix?" Harry asked, quite alarmed.

"Wasn't there," the Minister set him at ease. "She said nothing in her interrogation, and was sent through the veil about a month back." The Minister then took a deep breath. "He did leave Mr Malfoy's body behind. Lucky us," he then added.

"I'm knackered," Harry didn't really disagree. "Should probably head back to school now."

"How did you get here with the Headmaster?" the Minister asked, clearly curious.

"Apparated," Harry answered.

For a moment, the Minister looks as if he wanted to dress Harry down for it. Maybe give him a notice for Apparating without a licence- it's the done thing and all. He then reconsidered. "I hear you did well on your Apparition studies," the Minister not quite asked.

Harry nodded tiredly.

"And you can safely Apparate with another person?"

Harry nodded again and the head healer looked rather impressed.

"Go back to Hogwarts, Mr Potter," the Minister instructed. "I'll sign your licence later this morning and have someone owl it to you."

Back at school, the first person Harry met was Professor McGonagall. She was standing at the doors and watched him all along his tired walk from the castle gates.

"Headmaster Dumbledore?" she asked, looking over his shoulder towards the gates.

Harry just shook his head, not able to say, or explain anything. He then had to rush to the Deputy Headmistress and help her to a nearby chair.

It was already a week after Dumbledore's death and Hogwarts, the whole country really, was still in a state of shock. The school hadn't, in all probability, gotten over the shock of Professor Slughorn's death. It took several days for studies to resume once more.

The image of Professor McGonagall stepping up to the rostrum to announce Dumbledore's passing on, before the owls and the Prophet could arrive, then breaking down and sobbing in front of the whole student body was now imprinted in Harry's mind.

Whenever Harry entered the great hall the silence weighed heavy on him. So much so, that he did his best to take as many of his meals as he could get away with in the kitchen.

House elves worked silently as well.

Whenever Harry did entered the great hall, or just walked through the long corridors, all eyes were on him. What people were expecting of him? To set it all right? To lead? Just to tell them everything will be right? Maybe that the Ministry has it all well at hand? Harry didn't know.

And no one talked with him any more. Well, people did talk with him, but not about inconsequential things. Neither regarding the affairs of the hour. No one except for Luna, that is, but she usually tended to try and chat Hermione up.

"When you go exploring, will you take me with you to look for moon frogs?" she asked innocently, yet with an uncommon intentful look on her face.

"Gladly," Hermione replied with a soft smile. "Won't have it any other way, but it will probably be years before we'll be doing that."

Harry turned and looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow. She's been nice to Luna ever since the middle of last year, but actually humouring her? It earned him a small smile, over their younger friend's head.

"Let it go Loony?" Ron told her off. "Hermeione's helping me with Transfiguration. She doesn't have the time for your rubbish!" This earned him frowns from all around - not that he noticed.

When studies did resumed, though, it went much better than before. Apparently, the only way for the Ministry to keep Hogwarts open, and more importantly - the students enrolled, was to station an extended squad of Aurors in the castle. They were also responsible for the security of Hogsmead, but were certainly willing to contribute to the running of the school. Student's study-groups went on, while Aurors took the mantle, in rotation, of teaching Transfiguration, to free Professor McGonagall up to manage the school. They also visited the various clubs during their free time, to help and answer questions. Turns out that being stationed in an old castle, not being able to go home when off duty, and not being able to go to the pub for a pint - is quite dull.

One class which did suffer was Divination. The morning after the announcement of Dumbledore's death saw Professor Trelawney with all her belongings at the entrance hall, heading for the doors and loudly stating that her inner eye clearly told her to leave this place - the sooner the better. All McGonagall's promises and pleas, that her place in the school is secured, and that she will be welcomed to keep teaching for as long as she would like to, fell on deaf ears.

Very few were disappointed, though, and Pravati has already left Hogwarts. Ron was later seen in the Gryffindor common room, trying futilely to console his heartbroken girlfriend.

"Of all possible things, why would Professor Dumbledore leave me a child's fairy tales book?" Harry asked his friends, quite bewildered. He was thumbing through the book, looking for any kind of markings, writings, or other clues, and finding none.

"Could have used his collection of memories," Hermione kinda agreed, but those were nowhere to be found anywhere around his office and quarters.

"We could have used a fountain of fair fortune just right now," Ginny remarked darkly, pointing at one of her favourite stories from when she was a wee child. Other than the tales of the Boy-Who-Lived, naturally. It earned her an eye roll from her brother.

"Probably wanted you to read Babbitty Rabbitty to understand just how duplicable and dangerous Muggles are, and that you must vanquish you-know-who before he exposes magic," Ron offered and earned a frown from Hermione, though she said nothing and kept paging.

"Or that you need to be an Animagus!" Neville suggested, more helpfully.

How typical of the Headmaster to play riddles even after passing away.

"The Tale of the Three Brothers is my father's favourite story," Luna told them airily. "Was Grindelwald's and the Headmaster's favourite too!"

"Oi!" Ron complained, but Harry stopped him.

"Dumbledore told me himself that Grindelwald was a very good friend of his," he stated and put an end to this potential dispute.

It was relatively late in the evening, when Hermione entered the Room of Requirement for their scheduled analysis of a new Potion. This evening they were planning to work on an old favourite of hers - the Polyjuice Potion. Well, beginning to work on it - in both versions the Potion needed some extended shimmering times, but the Prince's process cut substantially on the preparation times, making the complicated Potion possible to make within half a day. In all practicality, the book's version should be ready by lunch the next day, and the official one the morning after only. Both will require an added visit early in the morning, for some additional stirring. Once more the difference was in that now-familiar anti-clockwise stirring and the treatment of a couple of the ingredients, which made them more potent, or maybe faster to react - they still weren't certain.

However, when entered, she found Harry sitting in front of a clear table, staring angrily at his wand which was laid on top.

"Was it being naughty?" she asked with some humour in her tone of voice.

Harry chuckled darkly. "It's been narky ever since that night with Dumbledore," he answered - clearly annoyed.

Hermione didn't notice any issue with Harry's wand in class and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for further explanation.

"Look," he said, and picked up a quill from his bag. With a swish and a flick of the quill his wand was levitated above the table. Then cluttered back with an exasperated sigh. "I pretend to use it all the time. Can't make it work at all," he added.

Hermione's brow stayed up. "May I?" she asked delicately. Touching another person's wand, never-mind using it, was considered a very personal thing, you know.

Harry nodded lightly.

The wand didn't show any reaction at all to Hermione's touch. Clearly wasn't a match at all. She did manage a dim light with it. "Seems to work fine?"

"May I?" Harry asked, a little embarrassed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and handed him her own wand. He got no reaction out of it. A flick and a swish did nothing at all.

"Feels like my magic doesn't reach the wands," he explained, "yet…" and his wand raised from the table in front of him, without a word, or a motion, or anything at all in his hands. "What you told me about saturating my body with magic?" Hermione nodded at that. "Ever since that day it happens in a blink of an eye."

"Should go see a healer," Hermione offered and Harry looked very reluctant regarding that thought. This was not something he wanted the public obsessing about. He also had no faith at all in the discretion of healers. Certainly not when it came to his personal privacy.

"And something else," he added. A tad embarrassed about not telling her earlier. "My cloak had disappeared too."

Hermione was surprised. "Did you look for it?" she asked. "I can help!"

"I'm not explaining it right," Harry mumbled. "Look!" he added, and promptly disappeared from sight.

"Disillusionment?"

It was the clear and simple explanations but not what Harry was after. "Come closer?" he asked. Suddenly Hermione could see Harry. She also couldn't see herself in the mirror Harry was pointing her at.

Not Disillusionment, then, she thought. "Did you notice anything odd that happened?" she then asked.

Harry wasn't sure how to answer. He then remembered something he told the Headmaster that evening. "Would you mind a visit to your Pensieve?" he asked.

For a while, they both watched the events of that consequential and emotional day. Mostly in silence.

"What was Dumbledore thinking, going out in his condition?" Hermione mumbled in clear exasperation.

"Dumbledore?" Harry's sarcastic answer came. "Of saving the Kingdom? Setting me back on the straight and narrow? Merlin only knows!"

Hermione gasped a little at the sight of the Inferi infested waters. She shook her head when Dumbledore started drinking the Potion, gasped once more when the Inferi came out of the lake, then…

"Oh, oh, oh!" she exclaimed and pulled Harry out of the memory, quite forcefully.

For a moment she thumbed furiously through the book Harry had inherited from the Headmaster, which naturally she was now carrying around in her bag. Then,

"Read this!" she ordered him, pointing at one of the tales.

For a long moment he read in silence. Harry didn't have Hermione's ability to inhale texts.

"The cloak," he finally whispered.

"The wand!" Hermione stated.

"This symbol was engraved on Slytherin's ring," Harry added, pointing at the illustrated page.

"Grindelwald's symbol," Hermione whispered.

"Dumbledore told me Grindelwald was a very close friend."

"Luna said this story was Dumbedore and Grindelwald's favourite!"

"Bollocks!" Harry stated.

"Language!" Hermione summarised it all eloquently.

It was the end of the year once more. Harry truly didn't think a more miserable year than the last one has been a possibility, yet, what did he know?

Tests were cancelled except for the Ministry sanctioned ones. People were told that most will receive a passing grade, unless one truly did horribly.

Quidditch has been cancelled as well, mid season, and no cup was offered. Ginny was certainly a tad miffed about it. She had good reasons to expect Gryffindor to win their last game of the season by a long chalk and therefore gain the overall lead - in her first year as the Captain, no less!

House cup went to Hufflepuff for the first time since yonks. With no classes for the Ravenclaws to gain points in, no Snape to award excessive and undeserved points to his own house, and Gryffindor still losing their fair share nevertheless and not gaining any from winning the Quidditch cup - it was only to be expected. Yet, there were no celebrations, but for a few subtle decorations, and Hufflepuff house's well deserved happiness was rather muted.

Many of the students left for home directly from school. Harry did indeed receive his Apparition licence and could have gone directly to Sirius's too. Hermione could as well, but they both opted to ride the train with their friends. There was a large shadow over the reopening of Hogwarts for the next school year, and neither of them wanted to think about it at that moment.

There were some news as well:

'Eleven Ministry employees freed from the Imperious!' shouted the Prophet's headline. Underneath was an image of the Minister, in all his leonese appearance, leaning on his walking stick and staring directly at the camera.

I need to contact the press and commend him for doing the right thing.

They were two hours into the train ride towards London, now.

Seven more to go…

"Anything from the trolley?" offered the witch kindly and Hermione bought some snacks for her friends, asking the lady to return later for some dinner.

"Harry and I shared the reward for the capture of Bellatrix Lestrange," she then explained her sudden wealth. "We'll come and visit," Hermione then promised their friends. "I swear down!"

"I'm knackered," Harry announced. He didn't sleep well that night, though he couldn't exactly say why. "Reckon I'll take a kip for a couple," he added.

"It's getting parky here," someone said. "Do you feel it too?"

It was that moment when things have gone to the bad:

First indication was the train stopping in a scream of breaks and suffering metal. Then came the cold.

"Dementors!" shouts sounded from all along the train. Sadly, yet fortunately - Dementors were something many of the students of Hogwarts know how to handle - as long as they weren't too numerous or too close. Soon enough about a dozen Patroni were heading towards the cloud of Dementors, struggling to keep those away. They were joined shortly by a couple more, courtesy of the Hogwarts Auror contingent, who were also riding the train back to London. In his compartment Harry took out his useless wand and let his magic saturate his body. "Expecto Patronum!" he called softly. Around him, a sphere of bright light spread, taking the strain off the other Patroni. Pushing the assembled Dementors away.

Hermione was already at the window looking out. "Nothing here!" she called.

Ron, meanwhile, rushed to the other side of the carriage. "Mates!" came his rather stressed voice.

"Come out, Harry potter," came a clear if sibilant voice Harry came to hate. "Your friends don't have to suffer!"

How cliche, Harry thought humourlessly.

Out the window and some distance away from the train stood Voldemort. "For too long have you been an annoyance," Voldemort went on saying.

Around him were not so many Death Eaters. Clearly this last year has bled his resources down. No more than a dozen masked people were there with him. Voldemort also had a rather large and intimidating snake coiled about his legs.

"You can't go out there!" Ron stressed urgently. "Get out back and Apparate away."

"It's an opportunity," Harry shrugged. "Handle the Death Eaters," he instructed his friends. He then looked at Hermione and pointed at Voldemort. "Be extremely careful, but try and keep the snake from getting away?" he asked.

"This is Auror Captain Williamson to all the students," a clear sound was heard above the chatter and shouts. "Stay inside the train and wait for Auror reinforcement," he instructed, yet everybody in the carriage was looking at Harry for their true instructions.

A sudden loud noise of twisted and tortured metal then a crush pulled everyone's attention to the head of the train. A look out the window in that direction demonstrated the reason the train had stopped in the first place. There, right in front of the train, stood a giant waving a large bat. At twenty three feet, it was fully grown and the largest Giant any of them has heard of. The giant had already smacked the locomotive off the tracks and was now heading towards the first carriage, eliciting shouts and cries of fear from the fleeing students. Without a word Hermione turned and headed off behind the train and forward.

"Right Aurors," Harry and his friends recognised the amplified gruff voice of Moody. "Use destructive curses only!" Mad-Eye ordered.

"That's a good order," Harry remarked. "Tell the students to keep themselves away, out of sight, and to keep to destructive magic if they choose to intervene?" he asked his friends, who nodded and scattered to spread the word.

Harry then stopped Neville before he could leave. "Go to the Aurors and tell them to handle the Death Eaters? I'll distract Riddle and stall for time," he asked. Neville nodded and ran off towards the back of the train.

"Come out, Mr Potter!" came Voldemort's voice once more.

A few curses from the Death Eaters started to hit the train, yet were stopped for now by the wards on the carriages, which were still holding.

"Right then," Harry said, mainly to himself, and walked towards the exit to face the music.

Just like a western he thought while walking, only Riddle is both bad and ugly...

First to reach her intended target was Hermione. She found the locomotive broken and thrown off the treks. The responsible giant was already lumbering towards the first carriage with some smashing in mind. Luckily for her, the locomotive was thrown to the right side, if there was one, and was now both protecting and hiding her from Riddle and the Death Eaters around him.

"Hey!" she called, but the Giant didn't even notice.

She added a Voice Amplifying spell to her throat. "Oi! Big guy!" she called. She now had the attention of the Giant. Also, his bat was swinging her way, to swat her off his path.

She side stepped it. "Play up your own end!" she told him off, and now that bat was heading towards her from above. Hermione didn't even bother with magic. All of her magic wouldn't have probably been even noticed by a fully grown Giant. Instead, a crystal at the palm of her left hand lit red.

The brace's shield protected her from the hit. It still brought her down to her knees. She then deflected a side swat without taking it fully on.

Can't do this for long, she thought.

Soon next, a bullet of fire was heading towards the Giant. Now, Hermione's brace has been proven to blow holes through turned Werewolves bodies. Giants, however, were apparently made of sterner stuff. Moreover, Hermione, in all her ferociousness, was a wee 5'5" tall girl. The Giant, right in front of her, towered over her at about twenty three feet tall. Where that bullet of fire hit, the Giant certainly noticed.

First bullet drew a shout of pain and rage from the hulk. He raised his bat to raze the small annoying girl for good, but before it could come down the second bullet brought him to his knees, howling in pain and holding his Goolies - his bat all but forgotten. Third bullet had him curled on the ground, crying. The fourth and last one tore through his open mouth and blew the top of his head off - quite literally.

Hermione had promptly lost her breakfast.

Right then - the snake…

At the side of the train, in full view of everyone, Harry walked calmly towards his welcoming committee.

"Riddle," he called amicably, as soon as he was at hearing distance. "Nice to bump into you - been a while!" Harry added with a genial smile. "Alright?"

Stall for time…

"Harry Potter - The Boy Who Lived. Came, as expected to save your pathetic friends?" Voldemort asked with clearly expressed glee. "How Gryffindor of you," he added derisively. "Now you will die, like you should have had fifteen years ago, and the people will despair."

Harry stopped some distance away. Stalling for time will require surviving Riddle for a while, and this, in turn, required some distance.

"It can be cruel, poetic, or blind. But when it's denied, it's violence you may find," Harry stated back. Much more calmly than he truly felt.

Riddle looked quite bewildered about this.

"Not?" Harry asked. "I alway believed that you were sorted into Slytherin by default only," he added conversationally. "You're not Hufflepuff material at all, much too cowardly to even be considered for Gryffindor, and with this sad ability to handle riddles - the Ravenclaw knocker would have never let you in."

"I am Slytherin!" Voldemort answered, clearly furious.

"Bollocks," Harry replied derisively. "I had to plead the hat to sort me anywhere but," he added. "Since you're rubbish with riddles, I'll give you an easy one," Harry then offered.

~What's black and blue and dead all over?~ he hissed at the dark git in front of him.

Several of the Death Eaters shuddered at the sound of Parseltongue spoken and took a step back. Voldemort was pissed off, which was the point, although not the best of points for one's survival prospects.

"Avada Kedavra!" he hissed in response, and Harry had to rush and step aside from the magic.

Harry couldn't step aside from the continuous stream of unknown magic which came next and was forced to shield. He slowly stepped backwards to gain more distance too.

"Have at it lads!" came Mad-Eye's amplified voice from the direction of the train.

Seconds later dozens of colourful streaks of magic came heading from that direction. Those were simple curses for most - a combination of Reductors, Cutting, and Blasting curses. Also, the distance made it hard to actually aim. Yet, quantity has a quality of its own and a few of the Death Eaters fell to the ground here and there. Some just lay there, unmoving. Some cried out in pain. Most Death Eaters easily managed to shield. It was clear, though, that most would not be able to just stand in the open and take the heat for long. Many started to look for cover. Others Apparated to close the distance.

Voldemort shouted in anger and sent a curse towards the train. It was still warded but that curse, whichever it was, managed to crash the wards and do damage to the carriage it hit.

Impressive!

This bout of impressive magic gave Harry enough respite to consider his next move.

Simple, powerful, and damaging magic, Harry's mind offered.

Soon enough, a broken locomotive, which was fortunately left in the vicinity, was levitated and thrown at the dark lord. Unfortunately, said dark git noticed and was quick enough to react. Voldemort's cutting curse sliced through the locomotive like a knife through warm butter. He was then standing between the separated halves and glowered at Harry for daring.

Very impressive!

Seconds later Voldemort was forced to move, when those halves closed in on him. Now the broken locomotive was between the two and gave Harry another moment of respite. He covered himself in invisibility and moved aside.

At the other side of the locomotive, Nagini had enough. She uncurled herself from around Voldemort's legs and slithered away, looking for food.

Moments later, Voldemort was floating above the locomotive, sending a stream of destructive magic at the place where Harry stood only seconds before. By the look of the damage inflicted, Harry was quite happy he wasn't standing there any more.

"What an exemplary Gryffindor!" Voldemort thundered, throwing his magic here and there in an effort to locate Harry. Harry moved carefully then tried to sneak a cutting curse from Voldemort's side. Voldemort was too quick for this to work, though. He now also knew exactly where Harry was and Harry was forced back into shielding.

Noises around pulled Voldemort's attention to the battle on the field in front of him. Apparently, his minions were not doing that well. They were ruthless alright, but the losses Voldemort had suffered earlier this year and during the former one were certainly showing. A handful of his men were quite capable, but those very few had the numbers staked against them. As for the rest, the git was clearly starting to scrap the bottom of the cauldron. With a shout of fury, Voldemort sent a curse at the field, about where Moody was seen, limping towards one of the downed Death Eaters to do him in. Moody was quick enough to shield, but where he was standing was now only a crater with people tossed around. It gave Harry another short respite, though.

Could have used my own wand right now, he thought. I can hold his wand locked much longer than any shield.

Suddenly Harry's connection to his wand reasserted itself with a fountain of red and gold sparks. It made Voldemort blink in surprise.

"Stupefy!" Harry called. It didn't really matter which spell was used to reach that brother wand's effect. Voldemort was forced to shield, though, and soon enough they were both wand-locked with each other, while magic swirled around them both.

Good. I can do this all day!

From the head of the train, Hermione ran back to help her friends. She dispatched a couple of Death Eaters on her way. It wasn't that hard - no commonly used magical shield could stop her Hand-brace repeatedly at close range and very few curses could breach its shield. Fewer still could do so and still hold their potency. She was helping her friends, but ultimately, she was looking for Harry. He wasn't a hard person to find, enclosed as he was, together with Voldemort, inside a cage of swirling golden magic. She was about to head there when she saw something large twisting through the grass towards where Moody laid searching for his lost peg.

Hermione changed her headings. She had a job to do.

Just in time since Nagini chose this moment to launch herself at her chosen prey. Moody was quick enough to shield her first attack. He wasn't even able to react to her second one. Hermione was, though, and her brace shield had no problem stopping Nagini in her tracks. Now, while her brace shield easily stopped Nagini's attacks, It couldn't hurt her in any way.

Nagini attacked again and again, from every direction, while Hermione struggled to contain her. While she was doing this, Moody and others around struggled to get away. Hermione was quick. Nagini was faster. Nagni was also stronger. Whatever Hermione tried - didn't get through Nagini's resistant skin and any soft target, if Nagini had any at all, was too small and fast moving for her to hit. Then Hermione made a mistake and gave magic a try.

What magic she tried pushed Nagini away for a moment, yet did her no harm. It did lose Hermione her desperate control over their struggle. Hermione wasn't able to concentrate both on her magic and her brace. Also, with her magic, she just wasn't quick enough to react. This time, when Nagini attacked, all Hermione managed was to grab onto her head to keep her fangs away. She had to drop her wand to do so. She also wasn't able to control her brace while struggling to keep her hold of Nagini's head with both her hands. Recognising her advantage, Nagini started to coil her body around Hermione's. Hermione was strong, but not that strong and couldn't possibly withstand that. She was also getting rather desperate.

She did manage to amplify her voice, though.

"Help!" she cried out.

Inside his cage of magic Harry heard his friend's call for help. He could do nothing but nab a glance in that direction. All his concentration was needed to keep Voldemort trapped. It wasn't even that hard to do. His wand had already bettered Voldemort's on two separate occasions and felt a tad miffed about Harry holding it back, so to speak. Harry, however, needed to stay focused and keep that balance going. Any lapse of concentration might see Voldemort setting himself free and the wanker would probably not repeat the same mistake.

People around were trying to help by throwing curses at the magic cage with no success. Harry noticed Ron doing the same and an idea popped in his mind.

"Ron!" he pulled his friend's attention to him. In his left hand, the sword of Gryffindor appeared out of thin air. It made Voldemort's eyes go wide. "Help Hermione!" he shouted, and threw the sword at Ron's feet.

It's too bloody poisonous to actually throw into someone's hands!

Ron nodded, and rushed towards Hermione.

Just in time, since Hermione was losing her struggle little by little. She could hardly breathe any more, trapped as she was within Nagini's coiled body. All she could do was barely keep to her hold of Nagini's head. Suddenly Nagini froze in her hands, then uncoiled and started thrashing about.

The snake was desperate to attack this new and dangerous foe, but her head was still held in place by that girl, who was much stronger than she had any right to be. Nagini felt her body grow weaker. She also felt ashamed.

Hermione took a deep breath, and slammed Nagini's head to the ground. "The head!" she ordered Ron. He did so, almost nicking Hermione's hand in his rush. Nagini's body fell limp at once. Out of her mouth a small cloud of smoke was expelled, squicked piteously, then evaporated.

"Thanks!" Hermione whispered towards Ron, sitting on the ground breathing heavily.

"No worries," he answered, quite shocked himself.

All around them, the battle dwindled to a stop. The Hogwarts Express laid about its treks in ruins. All Death Eaters were either down or surrendered. Only Harry's and Voldemort's struggle kept going in the not-so-far distance.

"Let's finish this up?" Hermione offered, and reached her hand towards Ron.

"Let's," he replied, with a trace of a smile, and helped her up.

Inside the magical cage Voldemort stumbled. This battle of pure will and magic unsettled him. For the third time Harry bettered him and for the first time in a very long while, Voldmort could perceive his defeat. It made him even more anxious to break this impasse and finally kill the annoying boy in a fight where he had the advantage of knowledge and experience. Then he felt Nagini's death.

Ever since he remembered himself, Voldemort took careful care to detach himself from any friend. Certainly not to have any loved ones. 'Attachments are weaknesses!' he told himself time after time. Then came Nagini. The poor Maledicted woman was just so much like himself.

'Poor' indicates weakness…

Yet, having a familiar meant an attachment. Also, one couldn't entrust a sliver of his own soul to a living being and stay indifferent. This was a clear gross mistake on his part. One he could only appreciate after the fact.

He looked at Harry, across that beam of golden magic and stumbled to his knees. ~I'll be back, you know,~ he hissed. ~Even more powerful than…~

And whatever Curse Harry used abruptly ended that predictable speech.

"Two swirls and a Jab," Hermione reminded Harry, when that expected dark cloud with a face was expelled from the failing body. He nodded and used his wand, since he had no idea how to perform this Spell without one. "Anima Bulla!", he then repeated after her, to enclose the vapour inside a magical bubble.

Sigh…

"What are you doing?" Captain Auror Williamson asked, quite disturbed by the Magic Harry was using.

"Need to get this," Harry indicated at the bubbled wreath, "to the Veil in the Ministry," he said, in a way of an explanation. He wasn't gonna explain Horcruxes and the likes to anyone he couldn't fully trust. Certainly not within hearing distance of all that crowd.

Fortunately the Auror just nodded and took out a sock from his pocket.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Can't keep this up, going through a Portkey, mate," Harry remarked softly. "Neither can I Apparate with it."

"A carpet?" Hermione offered.

"Young lady," stated the Auror. "Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artefact by the Registry of Proscribed…"

Ron rolled his eyes at this and raised his wand arm up.

With a loud bang a purple triple-decker appeared in the field in front of them and opened its front door.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out…" Ernei welcomed them with his regular speech till he noticed just where he was, what he could see around him, and just who was climbing in.

"Thanks mate!" Harry offered with a thin smile.

"This is an emergency Ministry business," the Captain stated gravely. "Take us directly to the Ministry entrance, as quickly as you can!"

People inside the bus noticed who was climbing in too, and just who, or what, he was carrying about with him, and rushed to disembark.

"I'll take the next one," murmured a portly man.

Harry looked at his wristwatch and was surprised to see that only a quarter of an hour had passed from the moment it all started. Hardly even lunchtime.

Merlin, I need that cup of hot chocolate…

Huge shout to flyboy38, my beta, who took the time to make sure this story is a much better read.

Well mates, this is the end of this small side-story.

Those of you who read 'Star Granger' already know what happaned next. If you didn't, though, and you liked this story - you might like to read the longer one. It has spaceships in it!

Otherwise, I hope I didn't waste too much of your time. As usual, feel free to dorp me a line - it's appriciated!

Cheers!