Evidently, it has
been in the policy not to allow certain "non-language
characters" since November 05 – they've only just now put it
into effect. As a result, I've decided to change the story's home
to SIYE (siye. co . uk / siye remove the spaces). I've
created a yahoo group where you can receive update notices (if you
only want those make sure you choose Special Notices only). I know
this is petty…but well…I prefer to control the format of my
story. The lines provides are okay, but I find them
not to be as effective as null spacing combined with some kind of
break. The lines alone make the chapters harder to read in my
opinion. Check out my profile/forums for the link to the Yahoo Group. (As a case in point...some of the wording above is disjointed...every time I wrote fanfiction DOT net it was edited out). Direct link: www . siye . co .uk / siye / viewstory.php?sid11253
Let me say this again so there is no confusion: This story is not abandoned and will not be. Its home is changing to SIYE (for those of you who don't like SIYE, the chapters will also appear on the yahoo group). Since I have to repost chapters, I've decided to use this as an opportunity to edit what I've already written. In some chapters, this will mean additional scenes, better grammar, spelling, and general flow. I encourage you to monitor SIYE or join my yahoo group. If you don't have and don't want a yahoo account then you can simply send an email message to the subscribe email (on my profile). I'm not sure if you can choose what type of notices to receive if you do this, but if you only want the special notices then email me and I can change your preferences (I think). If you don't like SIYE then you will have to wait…I will eventually post all the edited and final chapters here, but that will be once I am finished.
Thanks for reading
and reviewing! If you have questions, email me or post them on the yahoo group. -Intromit
Chapter 26: Safe
A puff of smoke rose as Albus Dumbledore pushed the door open. It creaked in protest as he forced it open to its fullest extent. The house would have been condemned, if the Muggles could have seen it – there were numerous charms preventing them, and even most wizards, from seeing it. However, he was not called one of the most powerful wizards of the age for nothing. It had not required too much effort to find the Gaunt house, or what was left of the house, as much of the structure had collapsed.
As he stepped over the threshold, Albus Dumbledore waved his wand, silently invoking the Bubblehead Charm, and gave a small cough. He did not want any of the stirred dust to enter his lungs. The small, rickety house had been heavily enchanted and if what he suspected was here, then anything could be potentially lethal. A heavy layer of dust rested over everything in the house. There was an armchair, with the stuffing poking out at the cushions in the corner. In the center of the room a table was leaning on its side, missing one of its legs. A few disturbing pictures decorated the walls, one featuring a masterful painting of a huge snake with yellow eyes.
Dumbledore's thoughts turned to Harry Potter as he surveyed the battered remains of the house. The boy had achieved so much. His gaze fell on the picture of the snake. A basilisk. Dumbledore frowned as he remembered. A twelve year old boy had killed a basilisk. At the time he had been far more interested in Harry and Ginny's intensifying bond, but now he could appreciate that the feat was extraordinary.
Then there had been the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Not only had Harry managed to succeed in the tournament, but had faced Lord Voldemort. Then there was Harry's disastrous fifth year and the boy's eventual capture. The boy had been through a lot and that was not even considering the bonding. It still bothered Dumbledore. Harry had used the Debt of Fate ritual. The use of that ritual told Dumbledore a lot; but most importantly, it told him that he was not alive. He would never have allowed Harry to use that ritual – the chance of success was so minimal that Dumbledore was sure it was mathematically impossible. This meant that he, Albus Dumbledore, had died before Harry had used the ritual, perhaps before Voldemort's death.
Dumbledore's frown solidified as he slowly walked to the centre of the room. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight, accompanied by an elusive, but familiar feeling. Where have I felt this before? he wondered.
His mind returned to their previous thoughts and he wondered exactly how he had died. There were many possibilities; although Dumbledore imagined most of them had to do with Voldemort. It would be embarrassing if he had died by slipping in the tub or something of that sort. He made a mental note to get a new bathroom rug.
Right now, however, Dumbledore was worried that he had died doing what he was about to do. Something was not right about the floor. He flicked his wand and waited. A few more flicks, a couple swishes, and a jab later and Dumbledore relaxed; he had removed a complex web of enchantments surrounding a single floorboard. Kneeling down, he wedged the fingers of his right hand between the cracks in the floorboard and tugged.
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A sea of red greeted Harry's eyes as he opened them. He breathed deeply, inhaling Ginny's scent; at the same time he tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer to him so that there was no space between them. Ginny mumbled something, but it was incoherent. Harry smiled and then began thinking of what to get Ginny for her birthday, assuming he could get to Diagon Alley at all. Maybe he could ask Remus…or Sirius if they could get him out of the Ministry's clutches.
He turned his head to look at the clock on his bedside table; it was a little after eight, which meant most of the Weasleys would be up. A soft knocking at the door drew his attention, but before Harry even thought about getting up a small, soft pop issued. Corfy had appeared holding a tray. The minute house elf gave a small bow of the head and then set the tray on the bedside table nearest Ginny. "Would you care for breakfast in bed or at the table?" he asked quietly.
"I suppose we should have it with everyone else," answered Harry and Corfy disappeared with another quiet popping sound.
Harry examined the tray, wondering what the house elf had brought if it was not breakfast. It was another potion. Corfy had also left a potion for each of them last night with instructions that informed them that the contraceptive would last for a month. The small card that accompanied this new potion was too far away for Harry to read without his glasses.
Sighing, Harry realised he needed to get up. He was hoping that Rita Skeeter would respond to his letter today. He stretched, causing his body to move away from Ginny. She rolled over so that she was now facing him and closer to his warm body. Harry rolled his eyes; Ginny was not a morning person. It was one of the few things they would argue about. She liked to stay in a soft, warm bed for as long as possible. He took his left hand and caressed the side of her face, gently putting strand of fiery hair behind her ear.
"Ginny," he whispered both verbally and mentally.
'm sleep'n, came her mental reply; her verbal reply had been completely incoherent.
Harry chuckled fondly and let his hand glide softly lower. First down her face, then her neck, shoulder, under the covers, down the arm, past the elbow, and down to her waist. He ran his fingertips over a spot he knew was ticklish.
Ginny squirmed, pressing her unclothed body closer to his in a futile effort to escape his fingertips. Perhaps it was in reaction to his sudden surge of emotions, or maybe it was because of his tickling, but Ginny's eyes suddenly flew open.
"Harry, you prat," she said, but she was smiling, which was a good thing. Sometimes Ginny did not react well to being prodded awake…a bit like poking a sleeping lion, lioness, Harry supposed.
Lioness? queried Ginny, closing her eyes and stretching, very catlike, her hands above her head and arching so that she pressed into Harry. I think I like that.
"You certainly have the temper of a lioness," joked Harry as he rolled on top of her.
Ginny pinched him causing him to jump to the side. "I can't believe you're teasing me! I'm not even awake yet!"
"Corfy left something for you – some kind of potion," answered Harry avoiding the issue.
"But it's all the way over there," mumbled Ginny, turning her head to look across the bed. "Get it for me?" she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him.
Harry slipped out of bed, not realising until he was standing that he was naked too. He heard Ginny giggle. Sticking out his chin, and ignoring his rising blush and Ginny's smug sense of accomplishment, he walked around the bed to her bedside table and picked up the tray. He squinted at the note Corfy had left, but he really was almost blind without his glasses, which were on his bedside table.
He walked back around the king-sized bed and balanced the tray on one of the bedside table's corners so that he could put on his glasses. Ginny, by this point, had rolled over closer so that she could relieve the tray of its burdens. A faint blush crept up her cheeks, rising from her neck, but she quickly downed the potion, shuddering slightly as she did so.
"Taste bad?" asked Harry sitting back down on the bed.
"Yes! It was awful – why does it seem like all healing potions taste bad?"
Harry shrugged; he had long ago given up finding an answer to that question. She handed him the empty bottle and he placed it back on the tray. Her movement had allowed the covers to slip down so that her torso revealed itself. "Ginny, last night was…" Harry did not know how to explain it. He cupped her cheek and leaned down so that their lips met.
The kiss broke almost immediately. Harry had a sour look on his face.
"Don't look at me like that!" chided Ginny swatting him, "You've got morning breath too!"
"Yeah, but you taste like that potion."
"So don't kiss my mouth."
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Dumbledore stood up, backed away quickly, and closed his eyes in concentration. The moment he had pulled the board up green smoke had issued from the blackness within. The gas quickly expanded to fill the entire house. Through the shattered glass of the nearest window it began streaming out. A small finch went rigid on a nearby tree branch before falling to the ground.
Eyes still closed and a green mist now surrounding him, Dumbledore began muttering and making complicated movements with his hand. Thirty seconds later his brow was beaded with sweat, but he finally opened his eyes and said, "Evanesco!"
He gave a great sigh as the green gas slowly disappeared; once Dumbledore was sure the gas had vanished, he adjusted his bubblehead so that fresh air was allowed in. He bent down to examine what the loose floorboard had revealed. Sitting on a black, velvet cushion was a gold ring set with an onyx stone.
Dumbledore started to reach for it, but his hand stopped several centimeters from the ring. He was confident that the protections surrounding it had all been removed, but looking on the object still caused him worry. Dumbledore considered himself not only one of the most powerful wizards alive, but also one of the most experienced. In all of his years he had never handled a Horcrux. Yes, he had held the diary, but its power had been destroyed and Tom Riddle's abused soul had vacated it. Dumbledore could sense the power radiating off the ring, its malevolence. How did I never feel the diary?
Almost immediately Dumbledore dismissed the question, the diary was meant to be found and Tom would have used numerous charms to ensure it appeared innocent. This ring was not meant to be found. He plucked it from the cushion and hastily placed the ring inside an inner pocket of his cloak, not wanting to touch the ring for any length of time longer than he had to.
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Harry put another forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth and swallowed them dryly. Mrs. Weasley was bustling around Potter Manor's large kitchen. They were using the table in the kitchen for breakfast. To his left Ginny was fighting equally strong emotions of anger and amusement. Harry was too busy trying to not look embarrassed to become angry or amused, although mortified he definitely was.
Bill and Mr. Weasley both look embarrassed enough for Harry, their heads were firmly down, staring at their plates. The twins were barely eating, but had wide mischievous smiles on their faces as their eyes bounced between Harry, Ginny, and their mum. Remus was doing an admirable job of hiding his amusement, only having snorted once. Ron was the only oblivious person at the table, far too focused on his food to notice the tense atmosphere.
"Make sure you don't put too much on your fork, Harry dear; make sure you eat safely," Mrs. Weasley advised. Remus snorted again.
That's the fourth time! If she tells one of us to be safe one more time… Ginny trailed off.
She's just being your mum…replied Harry quietly.
I don't care! Ginny retorted. She must have caught what he was thinking because she quickly followed with, AND I AM NOT BEING UNREASONABLE!
Just then a loud crash announced Tonks arrival into the kitchen. She had tripped over the hem of her robe. "Sorry," she mumbled
"Don't worry about it, Tonks. But, you should really try to be more safe," said Mrs. Weasley moving a plate of food to an open table setting.
How she had managed to convince the house elves to allow her to cook breakfast and serve them, Harry did not know. As if his thoughts had summoned an elf, a pop sounded behind him.
"Master Harry," Binny said, "You have a letter."
Thankful for the distraction, Harry stood and turned, "Thanks, Bonny."
Bonny nodded, threw Mrs. Weasley a disgruntled look, and disappeared with another pop.
"Who's the letter from?" asked Ron, looking up from his food for the first time. "Can I have another serving of eggs and bacon, Mum?"
Harry began unfolding the parchment, ignoring Mrs. Weasley's comment to "Be careful opening the letter, you don't want a paper cut."
Lurid green ink greeted his eyes; he did not even have to look at the closing to know who had sent this letter, "It's from Rita Skeeter."
"That was quick," commented Remus, a fire lighting in his eyes.
"Why would Skeeter be writing to you?" questioned Mr. Weasley, obviously worried.
"I asked if she would like to do an article about Sirius," answered Harry.
Mrs. Weasley stopped moving, the skillet of eggs still several feet from Ron's plate. "Harry, dear, I know she wrote that story for the Quibbler, but I don't think it's a good idea to trust her."
"I don't trust her; I trust her to follow her own best interest – besides we've got something on her she wants to keep quiet." Harry groaned as soon as he realised what he had just said. He had a feeling that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would not approve of blackmail.
However, before anyone else could comment Fred said, "Well, well, well. Isn't this something, George!"
"It is, brother-mine."
"Sweet, innocent Harry is becoming devious!"
"This sounds more than just devious – it almost sounds Slytherin."
"Oh no!" proclaimed Fred. "Blackmailing Rita Skeeter may be clever and ambitious, but it takes courage."
"A lot of courage – she's one mean lady."
"Of course, she's never liked the Ministry much."
"Good point. Sirius's story would definitely embarrass the Ministry," agreed George.
The twins were silent a moment and then, "Brilliant move, Harry! We couldn't do better ourselves!"
Mrs. Weasley put the skillet down, allowing Ron to scoop the remaining eggs onto his plate. She began walking toward the twins looking like she wanted to give them a good reprimand, but was practising self-control.
"I need to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron around two," Harry said looking toward Lupin.
Lupin shifted uncomfortably, "I don't know. We should talk to Dumbledore about it before we go out."
"I don't want to wait! Sirius should be free!" protested Harry, raising his voice.
"I know," Lupin's expression said that he felt duty bound to keep Harry safe, but the man did not say anything more, but nodded.
"No!" commanded Mrs. Weasley. "Harry it's not safe for you to go out in public!"
Harry sighed and prepared to argue back, but Ginny had finally been pushed over the edge with her mother using the word "safe" again, regardless of the lack of emphasis on the word this time. "I am so very tired of hearing about us having to be safe!"
Mrs. Weasley's hands went to her hips, "Well, if you wouldn't do dangerous things then you wouldn't have to be safe!"
Ginny pushed back from the table and assumed a similar position, "I can do what I want to do – whether it's safe or not!"
By this time everyone else was edging toward the doors, even Ron had given up on his breakfast and was backing away.
"Oh really! I don't have a say do I? I gave birth to you – you're my baby!"
This was the wrong thing to say and Ginny somehow turned a darker shade of angry red. "Oh yes, I'm ALWAYS the baby, aren't I?" Everyone else, including Harry, moved quickly for the door, Tonks falling over Remus as she lunged for the exit.
"I AM NOT A BABY!" roared Ginny through the door, causing all of the Weasleys to flinch. Harry rubbed his temples; Ginny's anger was seeping into his own mind and the unpleasant emotion was giving him a headache, but he knew better than to voice any discontent.
"Aren't you going to do something?" whined Ron as Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard vibrating through the door.
Harry looked at Ron like he was crazy, "What and have her get mad at me? Do you have any idea how awful it is to fight with Ginny? At least you only have to hear her - I feel it too."
Ron paled at the thought, "Bloody hell! No wonder you two never fight."
"We fight…just not for very long," corrected Harry, although compared to Ron and Hermione he supposed he and Ginny hardly ever fought. "It's hard to fight when you know exactly why the other person's angry…most of the time I think one of just needs to yell."
"That's got to be one of the wisest things I've ever heard," mumbled Bill as Ginny's muffled yells could be heard. "You should see Fleur when she gets going – the Veela in her really shows."
Harry massaged his temples again.
"Does she get beaky?" asked George trying to use his hands to show a beak coming out of his face.
Bill frowned at George before sighing, "Yeah, I suppose you could say that…"
Fred smiled, mischief glinting in his eyes as he glanced toward Tonks. "So…Tonks, what happens when you get mad?"
Tonks narrowed her eyes and stared back at Fred. Remus leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear, "Watch this."
"I don't see you being all that scary," added George. "You'd probably just trip over something anyway."
Tonks' expression immediately became pained and her face morphed into that of Mrs. Weasley, "Oh really!" The twins paled. Their mother really did scare them.
"Change back!" Fred said dramatically as both he and George covered their eyes with their fingers. Tonks laughed at them and changed back into her usual pink bubblegum hair appearance.
"We don't have to ask Ron what Hermione is like when she's angry," commented George elbowing Fred and winking.
"Everybody knows how you two get when you fight," Fred said.
"I think Ron here is the only one of us thick enough not to back down when he fights with his girlfriend," chortled George.
"Hermione is not my girlfriend," retorted Ron, his ears going red.
"Ah, but that doesn't change the fact that you two fight only as married people can," George continued on, Fred snickering behind him.
"That's enough boys," said Mr. Weasley, speaking up for the first. Ron had his mouth open, obviously wanting to retort, but settled for glaring at his brothers who only grinned back at him. "Speaking of Hermione, she will be arriving in a couple of days before Harry's birthday."
"She's been going nuts – I've got about a hundred letters from her in the past couple of weeks alone," said Ron with a hint of pride. The twins looked like they wanted to comment, but Mr. Weasley silenced them with a hard look. "She's been really worried about you, Harry."
"Why hasn't she written to me?" wondered Harry aloud. It was odd that he had not received a single letter from Hermione. She was normally a prolific writer.
Ron fidgeted, "I guess she just assumed I would be talking to you." The twins were now looking at Harry, pleading for him to tease Ron.
"I can't be all she writes about; what else does she have to say?" pressed Harry who was rewarded with more fidgeting from Ron.
"You know Hermione – she's worried about her O.W.L.s and now she's drawing up a schedule for N.E.W.T.s." Harry groaned at the announcement. "She keeps telling me I should be studying now that you're safe…bit annoying really."
"Did she have anything to say about Kent?" asked Bill. The attack on the county had been carried in the Daily Prophet.
"She said it was awful and the Muggle news was calling it a hurricane," stated Ron matter-of-factly.
Bill shook his head, "Did she mention her parents at all?" The oldest Weasley son shared a look with his father that Harry thought was strange.
"Oh yeah! She wrote that they are really worried about this year and her going to Hogwarts, but she said they haven't said she can't go," Ron said quickly.
"What's going on?" Harry asked Bill.
Bill looked at his father, who nodded. "We think the attack on Kent was just the beginning. It was supposed to be his formal coming out attack," spat Bill. "Vo-Voldemort was probably going to participate himself, but your escape ruined his plans. Even without him though…it was bad," Bill finished lamely.
"How many giants?" asked Ron.
"Three. Dumbledore said the Aurors were holding them back, but then the Dementors showed," supplied Mr. Weasley. "You haven't been out since they've shown themselves – there's a persistent mist. Dumbledore says it is a sign that they're breeding."
Harry shivered and felt goose bumps on his arms. Ron and the twins ran their hands over their arms probably to get rid of the feeling as well. "Breeding?" The notion that dementors could breed was disturbing.
"After all this is over, I'm not sure how the Ministry is going to control all of them now – they were barely able to contain them on Azkaban…not that the spells were terribly effective in the end." Mr. Weasley frowned as he considered the problem.
"I think I killed one," Harry said quietly.
"What?" several voices said at once.
"That's supposed to be impossible," Bill said.
"How?" asked George leaning in closer.
"When I flamed – it was standing so close that it got caught in the flames," Harry explained.
"Phoenix fire," Lupin muttered. "Dementors don't like fire. Maybe there is a reason for that fear. We'll have to tell Dumbledore."
"Is the mist all over Britain?" asked Ron, a scared, but thoughtful expression on his face.
Bill nodded sadly.
"And they are breeding in it?"
Bill and Mr. Weasley shrugged, "Something like that."
"I'm going to write Hermione," Ron said and headed off toward his room in the Manor.
"We are going to go down to the potions lab. We are going back to the store tomorrow and we need to make some more stock – our shield hats are backordered already!" said Fred.
"Remus, do you think we can go a little early to Diagon Alley?" asked Harry, the quaver in his voice betraying his hesitancy.
"We really should talk to Dumbledore first," answered Remus.
Harry his irritation begin to prickle and, forgetting that the Dementors were no longer under Ministry control, said, "We shouldn't have to wait – Fudge might try to give Sirius the kiss again just to show he's doing something!"
Lupin held up his hands and positively growled, "I know! I know!" The man turned to look at Mr. Weasley, Tonks, and Bill. Tonks nodded immediately to the unasked question. "What do you think? They might not be able to give him the kiss, but they might just use the Death Chamber"
"Well, there are four of us – an Auror, a Ministry employee, a curse breaker, and a Defence professor – I think we would make an adequate guard," said Bill. Mr. Weasley nodded at his son's assessment.
"Why do you want to go early? I'm sorry Harry, but you are bound to draw attention," said Mr. Weasley gravely.
Harry blushed, looked down, and then mumbled, "I wanted to get rings for Ginny and me."
Lupin gave Harry a warm smile and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "That sounds like a good idea."
"You couldn't wear them though," said Mr. Weasley tacitly endorsing the idea. "Maybe you should just wait…"
"I know, but I was just thinking this morning that we really should have them – even if we just wore them on chains or something," said Harry gaining more confidence from Bill and Mr. Weasleys lack of negative responses. "I thought they would be a good birthday present."
"What type of rings?" asked Remus.
"I don't know – wedding rings," he had not thought the idea through.
Tonks laughed softly, "He means gold, silver, platinum, stones, no stones."
"Oh! I don't know…I suppose gold is out of the question – Ginny doesn't like it," supplied Harry. The issue had become far more complicated. He just wanted a pair of rings.
"Well there's white gold too," Tonks said as she took a seat next to him on the couch. "Why don't you tell us what you want and then Remus and I can go out and get the rings?" asked Tonks. Mr. Weasley nodded his head assenting to the idea.
"Not silver," Remus said with a definitive tone. "So either white gold or platinum."
Bill smiled ruefully, "Considering the amount of falls and scrapes you have Harry, I would suggest platinum, at least for your ring – white gold will probably be too soft. Any thoughts on stones?"
"I thought stones were for engagement rings," Harry said and rubbed his temples again. His headache was becoming larger and even his scar was hurting a little.
"Well the larger ones are, but you could put a few small ones in the wedding bands," explained Tonks almost knocking over the nearest lamp with her right hand.
"Does yours have any?" he asked Mr. Weasley desperately trying to find dry ground.
"No, neither mine nor Molly's – they are simple bands," Mr. Weasley said extending his left hand to show Harry the gold band.
Harry turned to Lupin. "What about my parents?"
"No, they did not either, although James did give Lily an impressive engagement ring – I don't know what ever became of it," answered Remus.
"Then I guess platinum rings. What about sizes?" he was fairly certain that rings had to be sized. Uncle Vernon had ranted about having to get his ring resized for a week once. Thinking of Uncle Vernon reminded him of Aunt Petunia; he should ask how she was doing.
For the first time Remus looked stumped, but Mr. Weasley answered, "The rings will magically size to your finger."
"Okay. So platinum rings, do you want anything engraved?" queried Tonks in an excited tone. "A date or phrase?"
Harry bit his lower lip in thought, a habit he had picked up from Ginny. "Yeah, 1 September 1991 and…umm…" He knew there should be an engraving, but it had to be right. Something simple, but meaningful. "…and engraved with 'When my soul found its mate'."
That's sweet Harry, came Ginny's curious voice, even her mental voice sounded a little raw from yelling.
So much for surprising you. You like the idea? asked Harry, feeling nervous.
You know I do, but aren't we doing this backwards? Shouldn't the engagement ring be first? Ginny joked.
No sense in an engagement ring – we were never engaged. How about a coming out ring?
I wasn't serious – I only need the one ring, Ginny said backtracking.
I am – and you can pick it out. Harry shuddered, picking out a simple band had been bad enough.
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Several hours later, Harry and Ginny (Ron had disappeared again) were waiting with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for Tonks and Remus to return.
Mrs. Weasley shifted her weight to her right leg, "I hope nothing happened to them."
"I'm sure they're fine," reassured Mr. Weasley.
She wants to say we shouldn't go, Ginny said with a hint of accomplishment.
Harry smirked, Because it isn't safe
I suppose we got a little carried away, Ginny admitted reluctantly.
A little?
Yes, a little – besides it has its benefits, Mum isn't saying anything about us going to Diagon Alley. This time there was no mistaking the pride.
Are you sure you should go? Harry instantly felt Ginny's anger rise.
If I'm not going to let Mum baby me, then what makes you think I'm going to let you? she demanded.
I'm not trying to baby you and you know it! Harry felt his own anger rise; he was just as tired as Ginny was of people telling him what he could or could not do.
I'm not going to fight with you Harry. I've had enough of fighting today, but I'm going.
I just don't see why you should take unnecessary risks. I have to go, you don't, pleaded Harry, hoping she would not blow up at him.
Unnecessary risks? You sound like Mum. I'm still going, Ginny said firmly.
Why? questioned Harry knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop her short of stunning her.
Because the last time I let you go off by yourself you ended up captured by Death Eaters.
Harry pulled her into a hug and Ginny embraced him tightly. "I'm not losing you," she whispered.
"Must have been quite a conversation," noted Mr. Weasley quietly to Mrs. Weasley, who looked on the pair with an expression of realisation and regretful understanding.
Remus and Tonks walked in through the door at that moment accompanied by Bill and Ding. Remus walked over and handed Harry a small bag without a word, causing Harry to smile almost shyly at Ginny.
"How are we going to the Leaky Cauldron?" asked Harry.
"We'll go to Grimmauld Place first and then take a car," answered Mr. Weasley. "So, if you are ready?"
"Ding, can you put this on the desk in the master bedroom?" The small house elf bobbed his head excitedly before taking the bag.
The drive to Charring Cross Road was an alarming ride. Mundungus Fletcher was driving and his driving was just like his business dealings: shady. He made questionable turns, cut-off other drivers, never touched his signals, and drove at breakneck speed. They made it to the Leaky Cauldron with time to spare and Mundungus parked the car illegally in a disabled space. He remained in the car, saying that he had "other business" to attend to in London, but he would be back well before they would be done.
Tonks and Remus entered the Leaky Cauldron first, scouting for any potential dangers, while Mr. Weasley and Bill stayed outside with Harry and Ginny. They followed after a few seconds and Tom, the toothless barkeep, led them into a private backroom where Rita Skeeter was waiting. Tonks waved her wand, muttering a privacy spell. The reporter looked remarkably better than the last time they had seen her. Her hair was styled, nails even and reflective, and she had new (though still rather revolting) glasses.
"Harry!" she cried standing and extending her hand, which Harry shook reluctantly. "How good it is to see you again – is this really necessary?" she asked, waving at the four adults and Ginny. When Harry only frowned at her, Rita's eyebrows rose slightly and a familiar gleam lit in her eyes, "The rumors are true then?"
"What rumors?" asked Harry before he could stop himself. He knew she had to be baiting him.
"That you were captured by You-Know-Who," Rita practically whispered.
"Let's talk about Sirius Black," said Ginny forcibly when she felt Harry stiffen.
"I see that you are still dating Virginia," Rita said, frowning at Ginny.
"It's Ginevra, and yes, but we are here to talk about Sirius," Harry said quickly, trying to keep his annoyance under control. There was something about Rita Skeeter that made his skin crawl.
"Very well…"
It did not take long for Rita to become completely focused on the story Harry had to tell. She particularly paid close attention to the end of Harry's third year.
"Are you saying that the Minister knew Sirius Black was innocent then?" she asked, her quick quills positively vibrating.
"Yes, we told Fudge that it was Pettigrew the entire time, but he refused to believe us," reiterated Harry for perhaps the third time.
"You say Mr. Black never received a trial or was questioned under Veritaserum?" Rita asked.
"Neither," grunted Harry. Rita's smile was truly predatory.
"I think I've got all I need. It was a pleasure doing business with you again, Harry," Rita said, gathering her parchment together. She stopped mid-shuffle and looked at Harry questioningly, "I don't have to write this for free do I?"
"No, just make sure it's accurate," Harry emphasised the word accurate.
Giving her trademark smile, Rita answered, "I wouldn't dream of doing anything else. Truth is so much better than fiction." As an afterthough, she added,"In this case."
Harry rubbed his forehead as they watched Rita leave the Leaky Cauldron, "Let's get out of here."
Ginny took his hand and then asked, "How long has your scar been hurting?"
"I think since this morning. It's not bad though," shrugged Harry, frowns greeting his statement.
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Dumbledore clutched his right forearm as he slowly walked through the gates leading into Hogwarts, making his way slowly to the Hospital Wing. He had sent Fawkes ahead, warning Pomfrey and Severus to prepare for his arrival. Traveling by fire did not appeal to his injured arm.
The great doors leading to the entrance hall opened as he approached them and he immediately turned toward the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore had expected the Horcrux to react violently to being destroyed, but he had not anticipated the sheer power of it. It had almost cost him his life, he had been extremely lucky to isolate the damage to his right arm.
Dumbledore winced as pain shot through his arm when he accidentally moved it. Despite the pain he was in now, several important questions had been answered. First, Voldemort had guarded his Horcruxes well, which led to the second answer. There were indeed Horcruxes, not just a Horcrux. Dumbledore had been hoping, he knew it was unlikely, but he had held out hope nonetheless that the diary had been the only Horcrux. Perhaps the most important thing he had discovered though was what happened after you destroyed a Horcrux. Previously, he had read that the foul creations reacted violently, often killing the one who performed the charm to destroy them. Dumbledore knew without a doubt that if it had been any other wizard other than himself who had performed the charm they would surely be dead. Well, any other wizard except himself and Harry Potter.
Harry had already destroyed one Horcrux with no ill effects. At first Dumbledore had not thought much about it, but now the prophecy seemed to make more sense. Harry was probably the only wizard who could destroy the Horcruxes without dying himself. Dumbledore was not sure he could destroy another one without sacrificing his own life.
"Oh, Albus! What have you done?" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, rushing over toward him, wand drawn and already casting several diagnostic charms. "Sit down here," she said, forcing him down on the nearest cot. "I've got the potions ready and Severus will be here shortly," she said as she bustled around.
After two hours, several putrid tasting potions, and plenty of clucking from Madam Pomfrey Dumbledore was back in his office sitting at his desk with Severus Snape sitting before him.
"What is Voldemort's condition?" inquired Dumbledore, ignoring Snape's curious looks at his blackened hand.
"Angry, very angry," Snape said with a shiver. "He was burned badly from whatever the Weasley girl did; then, last night, he collapsed in the middle of a meeting – screaming."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the news, "So, the connection works in both directions. Interesting."
Snape frowned at his words, "It would appear so. The Dark Lord has reinforced his Occlumency walls – he's determined not to let Potter into his mind again. He has not taken the last few days well." Snape sneer almost became a smile, "Lucius has been tortured most severely."
"Really?" inquired Dumbledore leaning forward. Malfoy was the only Death Eater, other than Bellatrix, who had escaped from the attack on the Ministry. Dumbledore was still not sure how the slippery Malfoy had done it, but he suspected a secret passageway in the Ministry had allowed him to slip away when he realised he was outnumbered.
"Yes, the Dark Lord wanted to know more about the Weasley girl and he found out about the Chamber of Secrets," Snape said. "He became enraged when Malfoy told him the diary had been destroyed."
"He did not know before?" asked Dumbledore.
"No, he was focused the entire time on obtaining the prophecy." Snape paused, "He has been most severe with Lucius."
"I imagine he would be. Has he found out anything else about Ms. Weasley?"
Snape sneered, "The Dark Lord was very interested in her relationship with Potter. He said something about it all making sense now. He did not elaborate."
"Speaking of Harry, did you ever see him while he was captured?" Dumbledore's eyes had ceased twinkling.
Snape looked directly into Dumbledore's cool, blue eyes, "No, I never saw him."
"Do you know how he found out about Emmeline?" Dumbledore said, a pained expression crossing his face. The rest of the Order had not yet been informed about her unfortunate death.
"She was killed by Bellatrix, but I don't know how he knew where she was." The two men remained quiet for several moments. "He's planning on something big soon – something to do with that snake." The way Snape said snake left no doubt that the man did not like the creature.
"Bigger than Kent?" Dumbledore asked warily. Snape shrugged and silence reigned for another couple of minutes.
"Have you found a new Defence Professor?" Snape asked, his ambition clearly written on his face.
"No, not yet," answered Dumbledore. "I think it is time I turned in," Dumbledore finally said as he removed his pocket watch and flipped it open. The smallest hand had moved a couple of notches. Things are coming to a head, noted Dumbledore and closed the watch with a snap. There was a lot to do.
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Harry walked downstairs to the kitchen with a spring in his step and a comforting weight around his neck. Remus and Tonks had gotten the rings and Ginny and he had exchanged them in private, putting them only for the night. Now his ring was draped around his neck on a chain Remus had bought along with the rings. Harry smiled, the ring felt good; it also helped that he had a birthday present for Ginny. Granted he did not know what it was, but that just meant that she could not find out either.
Harry pushed the door open to the kitchen and froze. Sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet was Professor Dumbledore. Harry wondered how the Headmaster was going to react to him going out and giving an interview.
Dumbledore folded the paper and gave Harry a small smile. "Sit down, Harry. I see you had a busy day yesterday too." Harry took a double take at Dumbledore when he saw the blackened form of the Headmaster's right hand.
Dumbledore raised the hand and then put it below the table, "Don't worry about this, Harry; we will discuss it later. I think you want to see this first." Dumbledore pushed the Prophet across the table. "Ms. Skeeter is a very witty writer."
"Wow," Harry stated breathlessly as he looked down at the front page. Across the top, next to an old photo of Sirius was the headline: Boy-Who-Lived Claims Sirius Black Innocent! Fudge in Denial! Then below the main headline was another in smaller font: Ministry ignored laws in Black's imprisonment: Trial, what trial? and then Black helps capture Death Eaters, see page 8.
"According to my sources, there will be a vote of no confidence today or tomorrow," Dumbledore chuckled. "I daresay that Sirius will be free by tonight with the amount of pressure this article will put on Fudge."
"Good," Harry said. A plate was placed in front of him with all of his favorite breakfast foods. He turned his head swiftly to see Dinny stepping back. He had not even noticed the elf when he came in. "Thanks, Dinny." A plate had also been placed in front of the Headmaster.
Harry took a few bites of food before talking again. "How's Aunt Petunia?" It felt very strange to be talking to Professor Dumbledore over breakfast. Even stranger to talk about his aunt.
Dumbledore chewed his eggs and swallowed. "Not well. She has not regained consciousness." He paused a moment, his next sentence was said grimly. "The healers do not expect her to live too much longer."
Harry pushed the food on his plate around with his fork. Contradictory emotions were warring within him. He did not love Aunt Petunia, but he did not hate her. Dislike perhaps, but not hate. She was the last blood relative he had and that thought made him feel very alone, What would this be like without Ginny?
"Can I see her?" he asked.
"Of course, I'll arrange a trip for tomorrow," answered Dumbledore.
"When will we know about Sirius?" Harry asked.
"I suspect very soon. Fudge will want to show he is doing something or a least correcting old mistakes." Dumbledore peered into Harry's eyes as trying to judge something, "Harry, Remus said your scar hurt yesterday."
"Not bad – just a dull ache," replied Harry a little defensively. "It's not like you would expect Voldemort not to be mad."
Dumbledore chuckled, "No, I suppose not. But do you know why he's mad?"
"Because I escaped and Ginny hurt him," Harry bluntly said.
Shaking his head slightly, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "Harry what were you doing two nights ago?" Harry's eyes grew wide and he blushed before looking down at his plate. Dumbledore took it as an answer, "Very well. Have you considered that your link with Lord Voldemort works both ways?"
"What?" Harry felt anger and fear start to rise, which was then followed quickly by disgust. "You mean he was watching?"
"No, from what you have already told me about your capture, I do not believe Voldemort could ever reside within you without severe consequences. When Voldemort relaxes his guard you can feel when he is angry through your scar – it hurts, does it not?" Dumbledore was speaking slowly. Harry nodded. "Voldemort cannot understand or abide love. That was the reason why he could not touch you in your first year, why your mind is closed to him, and why when your love for Ginny reaches a…" Dumbledore's smile widened and he added emphasis on the next word, "climax…it hurts him."
Harry's eyes grew into saucers. "You mean when Ginny and I, when we…I mean…"
Dumbledore's beard twitched, "It causes him pain."
No sound entered the kitchen as Harry slowly allowed what Dumbledore was saying to sink in. He smiled. "So all we have to do to cause him pain is to…"
This time Dumbledore chuckled, "I daresay that he will take precautions so that it cannot happen again."
"Oh," Harry said not knowing whether to be relieved or disappointed.
"This is not the only thing I wanted to discuss with you. When term starts, I would like you to meet with me periodically. We have much to discuss and I have much to teach you," Dumbledore said with a strange look in his eyes.
"What about Ginny?"
"She may join us if she desires," answered Dumbledore.
Harry nodded. After yesterday he knew Ginny would not only want to, but demand to be a part of whatever Dumbledore wanted to teach him.
"Excuse me, Master Harry," came Bonny's timid, high-pitched voice. "You have a letter. So do you Professor Dumbledore, sir."
She handed them their letters and then poured Harry a glass of juice and Dumbledore a cup of tea before leaving.
Harry looked at the letter questioningly and flipped it over. The Seal of the Minister of Magic was on it. He glanced at Dumbledore.
"This was much quicker than expected. Cornelius must be far more desperate than I thought." Without another word Dumbledore opened his letter and Harry followed his example.
GINNY! WAKE UP! Harry screamed mentally, his face actually hurt from the size of his smile.
Dumbledore too looked relieved and happy, "Perhaps we should go to St. Mungo's today, instead of tomorrow."
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A week had passed since Sirius' pardon and the vote of no confidence that had occurred the following day. Dumbledore smiled in remembrance. The Daily Prophet and the letters that had brought the news were now framed. Sirius had hung his copy of the Prophet next to the scorch mark that had been his mother's painting. Sirius had proudly proclaimed, "Two of the happiest moments of my life are represented on this wall now! First, when I was finally rid of my detestable mother. Second, when I became a truly free man."
Sirius had become an instant celebrity. In two days he had received no less than seventy-eight marriage offers. When the Daily Prophet (in another Rita Skeeter exclusive) revealed that Sirius Black was also Harry Potter's godfather, he had been forced to arrange for owls to deliver to a postal box rather than directly to him. For a few hours, Grimmauld Place had been besieged by many owls all vying for the sole position of his attention.
He had held a large, raucous party at Grimmauld Place for the entire Order. It had distracted them temporarily from Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Dumbledore had been painfully reminded of another gathering much like it in early 1980 to celebrate the upcoming births of Harry and Neville. A photograph had been taken at that one too.
The jovial aftereffects of the party were now gone. Dumbledore forced his emotions to the side, there would be a time for tears, but it was later. Amelia Bones was dead. Fudge had called on him immediately when Aurors had found the Dark Mark floating above her home. Amelia had been a tough, but fair, old woman. She had also been Fudge's assumed successor after the vote of no confidence.
The house bore the telltale signs of a fight; Amelia had not gone quietly. Voldemort himself had killed her, Dumbledore was sure of it. The newspapers would describe her killing as nasty. Nasty had become the adjective attached to the most brutal of the Death Eaters' killings in the last war. They had also described Emmeline's as nasty. At least Hestia's body had not been mutilated. Dumbledore sighed and continued examining the area around the covered body.
The room was still highly charged with residual magic. This fact, more than the mutilation of the body, bothered Dumbledore greatly; the magic should have dissipated no matter what curses were cast. The hairs on the back of his neck were still standing on end. Few things could cause it to linger for so long, few of those pleasant. A soul bond was one, Dumbledore smiled at that thought. There was still a strong, positive residual magic lingering at the entrance to platform nine and three-quarters, even after years had passed.
Dumbledore imagined that creating a Horcrux also left a lot of residual magic. After what Severus had told him, Dumbledore feared this to be the case. Voldemort would want to replace the diary. This was not a heartening thought. If Voldemort could continue to replace Horcruxes, then the war would be very, very long. He needed to speak with Severus.
An hour later, he was back in his office with Severus Snape. "I want to know about Madam Bones' death."
Severus remained quite for a couple minutes to collect his thoughts, Dumbledore did not rush him. "The Dark Lord ordered us to secure the outside of the house and made it clear that anyone who disturbed him would be dealt with severely. Then he went in by himself. There were quite a few spells before she died. We must have waited half-an-hour before he came out."
"After Amelia's death," clarified Dumbledore.
"Yes, he was just as angry as when Potter escaped—"
"What do you mean?" questioned Dumbledore.
"He was cursing Potter – he said that it was his fault," Snape explained, shuddering at the memory.
Dumbledore's expression intensified, "Do you know what he tried to do?"
Snape gripped the arm of the chair tighter before answering, "I don't know – some kind of ritual. I know he has been preparing for it ever since Potter escaped. He asked me to brew him an enhanced Pepper-up potion before the attack."
Dumbledore frowned, "You don't know what he tried to do then?" Defense Defence
"No, the Dark Lord does not trust me completely," Snape said as if it explained everything.
"I suppose not. Did Lord Voldemort require your potion?" asked Dumbledore.
Snape flinched at the Dark Lord's name, "The Dark Lord did not." Snape paused and then asked a question of his own, "Have you found a Defence Professor?"
"Not yet Severus. Rest assured that when I find one, you will be the first to know," Dumbledore said tiredly.
"My services are always available," Snape responded silkily.
"Thank you for offering again; I will inform you if I require your services," said Dumbledore, clearly signifying that the meeting was over.
When Snape had closed the door behind him, Dumbledore opened his pocket watch again and cringed as he looked at his blackened hand. It was time to take another potion. He would definitely not be attempting to destroy any more Horcruxes. Besides, he now had a more pressing matter: finding a new Defence professor. Perhaps Severus is right; it might be easier to find a Potions professor than a Defence professor.
Dumbledore mulled the matter over. There were few qualified Potion Masters available and only one that would probably be willing to teach.
An hour later Dumbledore walked into Grimmauld Place; an Order meeting would be taking place that night. He sighed; Horace Slughorn had gone into hiding. The man was an excellent Potions Master and had all the necessary credentials to teach, had even taught at Hogwarts before, but Dumbledore supposed it was probably better that he had not been able to find him. Slughorn was a true Slytherin, if nothing else. While Dumbledore would welcome his skill and cleverness, the other qualities were not so desirable now. Slughorn was not biased by blood, but by power. He was ambitious and crafty to a fault. Dumbledore had never approved of his networking of the students. The Gryffindor in him found it distasteful. Which left him with the problem of a still open Defence professor slot.
He exited the hallway into the sitting room. Sirius was sitting in a plush (and newly purchased) armchair twirling his wand. Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled. Severus was not going to like this.