A/N: (grin) I didn't even realize that I was leaving a cliff-hanger last chapter. I just thought the whole bit with the ring was foreshadowing! I don't know whether I should be sad I failed or pleased at the actual effect. (lol)

Cookies to RRW, Murphyangel, noperfect917 for figuring out where Harry was going!

Chapter 14 – Chaperone Revealed

Saturday morning came and Harry packed the last of his things into his new trunk. He found it inordinately amusing that if Rachel Danvers had waited just one more week to place her bet on a chiffonier trunk, and they were betting on his gifts in general and not just Draco's, she would have won the weekly pot. Carlos Tinoco, a minor noble from Spain, had made it onto Harry's favorites list by sending just such a trunk.

The chiffonier was, according to Carlos, once of the less elaborate ones, but had a special spell crafted into it that Carlos thought would make up for any lack of fancy features. And, indeed, Harry quite agreed that the international homing charm made up for any lack of special whiz-bang features he would probably rarely use. But a homing charm – basically a portkey attuned to his magical call – oh, yes, that was useful. Especially when he started traveling. And he was going to travel. That hadn't been a convenient story for The Quibbler.

He ceased admiring his trunk and left to join his friends as they made their way through the school and to the carriages that would take them to the Hogwarts Express. He amused himself watching Hermione restrain herself from asking questions until they made it to the privacy of a carriage. The poor girl looked fit to burst!

"Why are you coming with us this year?" Hermione asked breathlessly. "You never leave for holidays. Are you really going to be staying with your relatives? And for the whole holiday? I thought you didn't like the Dursleys."

"I don't," Harry confirmed with a grin, barely refraining from laughter as his friend finally let loose her questions.

Hermione looked confused. "Then why are you going back to them this year?"

"Because Dumbledore wants me to," Harry said.

"But you haven't in previous years," Hermione said, still confused but now also determined to figure out the puzzle. "There has to be some other reason."

Harry seriously contemplated his friend for several moments but decided to go ahead and reveal Dumbledore's reasons. His relationship with Hermione was still good, but he couldn't help but somewhat doubt where her final allegiances would lie. When it came right down to a choice, would she support him and his freedom? Or would she side with the headmaster and his so-called duty? Testing her in this way might not be the most honorable thing to do, it was actually rather underhanded, but he needed to know and he might as well find out sooner rather than later.

He glanced around the carriage at the others accompanying them. Neville merely looked interested – he didn't know much yet about the way the Dursleys had treated an innocent child. Ginny looked angry – she did know and had already expressed her displeasure. Still, she might agree with the headmaster anyway, given what was at stake. The last person, one he hadn't had much contact with at all this year but still saw occasionally, especially around Ginny, was Luna Lovegood. Luna returned his regard with a very slight smile. The more he was around the girl this year the more he was certain that she knew things. She knew things and Harry was too afraid to ask just what those things might be.

"There are wards at the Dursley residence that are powered by my presence," Harry said emotionlessly. "The longer I stay in the house the stronger the wards are. The longer I'm away from the house the weaker they are."

Hermione nodded but there was a frown on her face. "I've never heard of wards like that," she said slowly.

"They're blood wards," Neville said in astonishment. "That's how blood wards work."

Hermione looked at Neville in curiosity then at Harry for confirmation.

Harry nodded and said, "Yes, exactly. They're blood wards. They were based off my mother's sacrifice. They protect me from Voldemort and the Death Eaters and they protect my relatives from wizards in general."

"But that still doesn't explain why the headmaster wants you to go back there this year when you've never gone back before," Hermione persisted. "And what's so special about blood wards?"

"Blood wards are the strongest type of wards there are," Neville said, shaking his head, still astonished at the revelation. "A properly raised blood ward is almost impossible to bypass. Of course, they're almost impossible to raise properly. Gran says that that's actually the only reason they're not illegal, the fact that so few people can even try to raise them. The headmaster…?"

Harry nodded at Neville's unfinished question.

Hermione and Ginny both looked impressed. This time it was Ginny that reiterated the question. "But why do you have to go back this year?"

"Because I haven't been at that house for any appreciable length of time since the summer after third year and the wards have deteriorated almost to the point of no return," Harry admitted.

"You haven't?" Ginny asked in surprise. "Where did you go?"

"Somewhere else," Harry said while eyeing Luna warily. The girl hadn't said a word but the small smile was still on her face. She knew where he went, he was certain. He wondered how long she had known.

"But if your presence is required to recharge the wards isn't it irresponsible to go anywhere else but back to them?" Hermione questioned in confusion.

"I don't care about the wards, Hermione," Harry said. He glanced around at the reactions of his companions. Neville looked sad, as if he suspected just why Harry had such an attitude. Hermione looked confused. Ginny looked righteous – it would probably take her a while to understand the implications. And Luna was smiling. He shivered.

"Why not?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Because they hate me and I hate them. Why should I care if there are wards around their house or not. Let them fall," Harry said contemptuously.

"But wouldn't they be in danger? Just for being your relatives?" Hermione asked, still surprised at Harry's lack of concern despite his confession.

Harry shrugged. "Probably," he said indifferently.

Hermione paused then said slowly, "Well, the wards protect you, too. And even if you do hate your relatives, it's still the right thing to do to make sure that they have wards to keep the Death Eaters out."

"Maybe so," Harry said then added bitterly, "It would also have been the right thing to do to provide me with a decent childhood instead of the neglect that they practiced. I see no reason why I should give anything back to them when they gave less than nothing to me." He was quiet a few moments then added, "And I don't care about the protection from the wards. I don't need it, especially at the price of dealing with them."

Hermione was quiet. She knew her friend had not had the best home life but she hadn't realized that it was so bad. "So you wouldn't care whether or not they were killed?" she asked softly.

"Of course I would care," Harry protested then ruined Hermione's relief by adding, "I definitely want to know when it is I need to celebrate."

"That's mean, Harry," Hermione said disapprovingly.

Harry shrugged. "They would do no less." And it was true. He remembered an incident, when he was eight or nine, when Vernon had pointed out a bottle of expensive scotch that he had recently purchased and said that he would open the bottle when Harry was finally dead and out of their lives forever.

Further conversation was delayed as Hogsmeade Station came into sight. The group silently moved from the carriage to a compartment on the train. Conversation slowly started up again, all mention of the wards deliberately avoided, and the ride to London passed pleasantly.

By the time everyone started to disembark, Harry was certain of several things. First, Luna was more creepy than she had ever been and understood, fully, what was going on. Second, Neville supported him and understood, mostly, what was going on. Third, Hermione and Ginny supported him but didn't really understand what was going on. Hermione would figure it out by the time school started up again, though. Ginny probably wouldn't. And, fourth, he was really going to enjoy bursting Dumbledore's little delusional bubble of Harry Potter obedience.

The five of them made it to the platform and Luna, Neville, and Ginny said their goodbyes and worked their way over to their respective families. Harry waited with Hermione until she spotted her parents then escorted her over to them.

Hermione hugged Harry hard and said sadly, "Good luck with the Dursleys."

Harry returned the hug then stepped back and gave a smirk. "Don't worry about me," he said smugly as he thumbed his pinky ring and sent a burst of magic into it.

"But…" Hermione started only to stop when Harry shook his head.

Very deliberately, and with great relish, Harry said, "I'm not spending Christmas with the Dursleys," and disappeared.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise then she started laughing. She should have known that Harry would slip his leash! She only laughed harder when she heard a commotion and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt heading in her direction.

--HPDM--

"Damn it," Harry muttered as he sprawled gracelessly across the marble floor. Two summers of frequent portkey travel and he still landed on his arse!

A warm chuckle sounded above and behind him and Harry climbed to his feet to greet the man that had been waiting for him. "Hello, grandfather."

"Hello, Harry," the man said as he stepped forward to engulf his grandson in a hug. "How was your trip?"

"I landed on my arse!" Harry mumbled into the warm shoulder of his maternal grandfather.

The man laughed then said, "I meant your time on then train. Was it pleasant? Did you enjoy time with your friends? Were you harassed? Did you have any problems getting away?"

"Yes. Yes. No. No," Harry answered succinctly. He made no move to leave the embrace, knowing his grandfather would never refuse him the small affection.

"Good," the man said softly and continued to hold his grandson close. He was at once pleased that his grandson loved to be hugged and saddened at the reasons why a young man, one at the age when it was more normal to push away adults so as to assert independence, would relish such affections.

Harry leaned even more into his grandfather's warmth. He loved this man, loved him fiercely. When he had first met Robert Delamater they had been very awkward in each other's presence. Robert hadn't realized he'd had a daughter, much less a grandson, and hadn't known how to act. Harry hadn't known how to respond around an adult that was genuinely concerned for him and only him. Even Sirius had deferred to the headmaster when it came to Harry. They'd quickly gotten over their shyness, however, and had grown quite close. He'd told his grandfather things about himself that he'd told no one else and probably never would.

Harry leaned back slightly so he could see his grandfather's face and said, "I have so much to tell you!"

"So much?" Robert questioned in amusement. "But you saw me just yesterday!"

"That's different!" Harry protested. "I don't get to tell you any of the good stuff while you're playing chaperone. We're too busy evaluating people."

"Good stuff? I've been missing out on the good stuff?" Robert asked in mock dismay.

Harry nodded eagerly. "I have to show you all the things my favorites sent me. You should see what Eric sent me yesterday! And Neville had another suggestion about Draco. I'm eliminating Michael, though. And Herbert. Neither of them sent invitations…"

Robert laughed. "Slow down, young one. We have time for you to tell me all the good stuff. Aren't you hungry? I asked for dinner to be ready when you arrived."

"Yes!" Harry agreed enthusiastically and pulled away fully only to grab his grandfather's hand and start pulling him towards the private dining room. "Maybe after dinner you can help me go through all my music marbles so I can send off my Christmas presents."

"Of course. A worthy endeavor," Robert agreed with a smile as he allowed himself to be pulled along. "I have a surprise for you regarding your music."

"Really?" Harry asked with pleased grin as he stopped to look back at his grandfather.

"I have arranged with a vendor in Paris to exchange all your duplicate marbles for a small fee," Robert said, still smiling in amusement.

"A small fee?" Harry questioned doubtfully.

"A mere twenty galleons which includes his silence as well as staying open for two hours after normal closing one evening to help you find music you like," Robert elaborated. "He is most eager to meet you."

"Because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived," Harry said bitterly. "At least the title is good for something, I suppose."

"Because you are my grandson," Robert corrected gently.

Harry blinked then frowned in confusion and stared at his grandfather questioningly.

"He is half-Veela and raised primarily in a Veela environment. He is more excited to meet you because of your ancestry than because of some silly British nickname," Robert said and squeezed his grandson's hand gently.

Harry stared blankly for a few moments before grinning broadly. It was still a shallow reason to want to meet him, but at least it was a shallow reason based on reality and not a shallow reason based on some ridiculous made-up story of savior-hood. "I can't wait," he said eagerly.

"We shall go Monday, then, as that is the day he closes earliest," Robert said and took over the tugging towards the dining room.

Harry followed obediently and said, "We should have everything sorted by then, for certain. If we left a little early, I could send out all my presents then, too."

"Then that is what we shall do," Robert said and continued to lead them towards the wafting smells of food.

--HPDM--

"This is ridiculous!" Kingsley Shacklebolt exclaimed loudly. "How can one boy evade us? He shouldn't have been able to detect the tracking spells, much less transfer them to someone else!"

Several Order members murmured their agreement while others simply nodded and yet others smirked and/or watched in amusement.

"Nevertheless, that is what has happened," Albus said grimly. "Harry somehow detected the tracking spells and transferred them from himself to Luna Lovegood. It appears he has also acquired an untraceable portkey."

"It's not completely untraceable," Alastor interjected. All attention immediately turned to him.

"Please elaborate, Alastor," Albus said with a small hope in his eyes.

Alastor smiled, a look that appeared fierce instead of relaying the amusement that he actually felt, and said, "The portkey signature is registered with the International Confederation of Wizards as a legally made untraceable portkey."

"And what does that mean, exactly," Charlie Weasley asked in bewilderment. "Is it traceable or not?"

"It's traceable inasmuch as we were able to discover that it is a legal portkey that is untraceable," Alastor said with a chuckle.

"This is not amusing, Alastor," Albus reprimanded firmly. "Who is the portkey legally issued to?"

Alastor continued to chuckle, completely unfazed by Albus' disapproval. "That's classified."

"Then…we're out of luck?" Charlie asked hesitantly.

"That we are, lad. That we are," Alastor said, barking a laugh before falling silent. He still grinned, however. He had to hand it to the Potter lad; that was a smooth escape. Nobody had suspected a thing.

Unlike Alastor Moody, Albus found nothing about this situation to be anything other than completely grim. After his talk with Harry earlier in the week, he had gone personally to evaluate the wards at Privet Drive. Without Harry's presence they would fail by February or March, April at the latest. That could not happen. It was imperative that it did not happen. And yet, he knew that his hands would be tied if Harry was not found before he returned to Hogwarts and resumed his courting. Albus would not be able to demand that Harry spend the days at the Dursleys instead of courting. Neither would he be able to demand that Harry spend the nights at his relatives as it was the law that all Hogwarts students sleep at the school during term and, despite the circumstances, Harry was still considered a student.

"What were you able to discover from his friends," Albus asked Kingsley stiffly.

"Nothing useful," Kingsley admitted angrily. "Miss Granger laughed at us and said she had known nothing. Ginny Weasley laughed at us and said it served us right for trying to send Harry back to, and I quote, those monsters. Mr. Longbottom said he had suspected that Potter had something up his sleeve but could provide no details. Miss Lovegood…"

"Yes," Albus prompted impatiently.

Kingsley shifted uncomfortably and said reluctantly, "She claimed that it was the season for the glitterpuffs to bring worthy people to visit their havens."

"I see," Albus said with a sigh as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Alastor, is there no way to get access to the name of the owner of the portkey Harry used? Or it's home country at the very least?"

"I doubt it, Albus," Moody said gruffly. "You can certainly try but I got the impression that the inquiry had been expected and that further information would never be forthcoming. For all we know, Potter might be the legal owner of that portkey."

Albus looked up in alarm at that possibility. Harry with ICW contacts? That could end in disaster! "How likely do you believe that to be, Alastor?"

Moody raised his eyebrows in surprise at the intensity of Albus' question. "I'd say it's actually a better than even possibility. The owners of ICW untraceable portkeys are generally people of high station that aren't the type to give up such a valuable artifact for any length of time to anybody, not even family. While they certainly have the right to let anybody use their portkey, the likelihood that anybody they would want to let use it doesn't already have their own is relatively small. In short, I wouldn't be surprised if it does belong to the lad. Legally."

The possibility presented by Alastor chilled Albus to the bone. If Harry was cultivating foreign contacts, and was already leaving the country during his summer vacations… Well, that didn't bode well for Harry taking his wartime duties seriously. In fact, it seemed to indicate that Harry was doing his best to avoid his responsibilities to the British wizarding world. That must not happen. It must not!

Albus controlled his oncoming panic attack with a force of will developed over a century. "Let us put aside the question of Harry's location for the time being and hear from our suitors. It is the evening of the 20th and the secrecy spells should have lifted. Severus?"

"I was dismissed," Severus said shortly. It was apparent that the man couldn't decide whether to be pleased that he was free of such a personally distasteful duty or infuriated at being eliminated.

Albus sighed. "Well, that was not unexpected. What reason was given, if you don't mind sharing?"

Severus sneered. "I was rude to the overdressed, over-dramatic, gossiping old biddy that runs that abhorrent establishment when she refused to escort me to my appointment with the brat."

Everyone stared at Severus when he finished speaking, most realizing that there must be more to the story. Instead of questioning his potion master further, Albus simply turned to the Weasley brothers. "Boys?"

"I've passed," Charlie said slowly. Reluctantly, he filled in the spaces of Severus' story, "When I first arrived at Madam Puddifoot's and asked to be taken to Harry, she refused. She said that my name wasn't on the list of visitors for the day."

"The same for me," Bill volunteered from where he sat next to his brother.

Charlie nodded and continued more confidently. "I gave her my postcard that showed the time and date and asked again to be taken to Harry. She again refused but agreed when I asked her to check with Harry about the discrepancy. She returned with another postcard that said I had passed the test of being civil in the face of obstacles, or something like that."

"Unforeseen obstacles," Bill supplied helpfully.

"Right," Charlie said and continued his story. "The postcard said to come back for dinner…"

"Lunch," Bill said.

"So I did," Charlie said with a glance towards his brother. "There were ten other suitors there and we all spent a very nice two hours eating dinner and talking."

"Eleven others," Bill interrupted again.

"I don't even know what it was we ate. Some kind of bird, duck I think, with some kind of sauce for the main course. Some kind of squash. A salad. Some cheese and bread. It was good but I've no idea what it was," Charlie said and looked at his brother expectantly.

"Lamb and beets," Bill said with a shrug.

"The menu is hardly important," Marcus said with annoyance.

"Then we started mingling," Charlie said, completely ignoring the interruption. "I met some very interesting people. Harry came to each of us to talk and hold hands."

"Hold hands?" asked Hestia Jones. "You mean shake hands?"

Both Charlie and Bill shook their heads. "No," Charlie said. "I mean hold hands. He was feeling our magic. When he held my hand I felt him unfurling his magic so I did the same. That was one of the main objectives of the meetings, remember, to determine magic compatibility."

"And were you compatible?" Molly Weasley asked eagerly.

"Yes."

"No."

The brothers looked at each other and silently agreed that Bill would continue the report. "Harry dropped my hand like a hot frying pan and nearly fainted," Bill said. "I, as well as everyone else, knew immediately that I had been eliminated. I don't know why my magic was so hostile toward Harry's, but it was. I was allowed to stay for the remainder of the gathering, though, and socialize with everyone else. Like Charlie did, I met some interesting people. I've even kept in contact with one of them."

"Did anything else of interest happen at the meeting?" Albus asked. "Were you able to determine who passed and who didn't?"

Charlie answered first. "I think there were two, maybe three, people who were eliminated for incompatible magic. Otherwise, there wasn't anything else of note that happened."

"There were seven eliminated in my group," Bill added. "It makes sense, though. My group was just last week and Charlie's was the beginning of November."

"How is that relevant?" Arthur asked curiously. Unlike Molly, he wasn't disappointed that his boys were being eliminated from the courtships. It was his opinion that none of his boys were really a good match for Harry and he did want the boy to be happy.

"It has to do with the amount of stress Harry is under," Albus said with a sigh. He was disappointed that they were down to only one suitor. Still, at least it was the one whom he'd thought at the start would be the best match.

"It has to do with sensitivity," Bill expanded. "With Harry opening his magic so often to so many people he undoubtedly became more and more sensitive to what was and wasn't compatible with his own magic. As the weeks progressed he would naturally eliminate more and more people due to compatibility issues. Of course, it would also have made the violent reactions even worse for him. Hence why he almost fainted when feeling my magic instead of simply pulling away in distaste."

"So what now?" Marcus asked curiously. "You're to meet with him again, right?"

Charlie shrugged his shoulders in bafflement. "I don't know. I've sent a Christmas present along with an invitation to come over for Christmas dinner, but I've not heard back."

"You know he won't be able to come for dinner, Charles," Albus scolded lightly.

Charlie shrugged again. "I thought it was only polite to invite him." He didn't say anything about how, given his escape, it was quite obvious that Harry could come for dinner if he pleased.

"Your date?" Marcus persisted.

"I don't know," Charlie answered again. "I know as much as you. Individual dates are supposed to start on the 6th but I've not heard back."

"You'll probably get a date in January," Elphias said.

"That's what I figured," Charlie said, nodding.

"What? Why?" Hestia asked in confusion.

"First out, first notified, first met, first date" Moody said with his own nod. "You realize you have a high chance of being eliminated for incompatibility, don't you?"

"Yes," Charlie answered.

"What?" Hestia asked again, still confused. "Why?"

"Idiot woman," Severus snapped. "Have you no brain of your own? Potter was not nearly as sensitive to magic with those he met first. Therefore, they run a high risk of being eliminated for incompatibility when they meet for the second time. The later suitors who passed have a greater chance of also passing the next round. At least as far as compatibility is concerned."

"Well, pardon me for not knowing everything," Hestia snapped back.

"Does anyone have any ideas about what might comprise the next round?" Albus asked before the meeting could degenerate into bickering.

There was nearly a minute of silence before Alastor finally answered. "This would be a good time for the lad to give another interview," he suggested slowly. "That first article did mention that he had agreed to a series of interviews. Now that the second round is over, I can see the lad explaining his tests and his reasoning behind them, much like he did after round one. Maybe more information about the next round will be in the new article."

Several people nodded thoughtfully at Moody's suggestion.

"That doesn't explain why he's not yet contacted Charlie, though," Arthur said. "Harry will have to contact each suitor to arrange an individual date. I can't imagine that he would make the schedule public."

"I think there might be something else going on," Bill said as he stared at the opposite wall with narrowed eyes.

"Why do you say that?" Arthur asked. He wasn't the only one who looked at Bill curiously.

"Well, think about it. There are over 500 people at last count," Bill said. "If you presume that round three lasts as long as round two, that is, two months, just how would he meet that many people for individual dates in just 60 days?"

"Maybe round three is longer," Arthur suggested tentatively. "Maybe it'll last as long as it needs to last until he finishes meeting with everybody."

Bill shook his head. "No, something's up," he said intently. "He has a limited time to mate. No submissive has lasted longer than a year and a half without mating and most unmated ones die by twelve or thirteen months. I think it's safe to presume that there is a round four." He looked around briefly for understanding and saw most of the Order nodding in agreement.

"Harry has a strong will," Bill continued, "so I think it's not unreasonable to presume that he could last the full eighteen months. He won't actually want to, I'm sure. It gets pretty grim for a submissive Veela the longer they wait."

"Where is this going?" Marcus interrupted impatiently but subsided when Albus raised a hand.

"Continue your thoughts, William," Albus encouraged.

Bill nodded absently and continued thinking out loud. "I think it would be a logical presumption that round three will be over by the end of the school year, Harry's birthday at the latest. So that gives him, what, seven months? So he has to meet 500-some-odd people in about 200 or so days."

"Two or three people a day," Alastor murmured. "That's certainly possible."

"Yes," Bill agreed. "But not very practical. It leaves him with such a short time to conduct future rounds, plus he'd be desperate by then and not thinking as clearly. It would make so much more sense if he made another big elimination somehow so that he could still meet two or three people a day but only have half as many people and thereby start round four that much earlier."

"But how?" Alastor asked.

Bill looked up thoughtfully and shook his head slowly. "I don't know. But there's something that we're missing. Something is going to happen between now and the 6th. It has to. Nothing else really makes sense."

Albus sighed his frustration and said, "Perhaps it would be best to follow Alastor's suggestion and wait until after the next article has been published. There is nothing more we can do without any additional input from Harry."

The meeting broke quickly after that and Albus found himself back in his personal chambers within half an hour. He hadn't bothered assigning any Order members to search for Harry. Many people saw him as an idealist, and he was, but he was also quite experienced with reality and he knew a lost cause when he saw one. The blood wards would not be renewed. While the lack of protection offered by the wards would greatly hinder Harry in his defeat of Voldemort, it wouldn't make the task impossible. He just hoped that Harry was not abandoning the fight.

Albus sat in his favorite chair and pet Fawkes, letting the phoenix' song soothe his fears. He prayed to all the gods that Charlie Weasley won the suit for Harry's hand and convinced Harry to stay in Britain and defend his countrymen in the coming war. He prayed to all his ancestors that even if another prevailed with Harry that the young man would not abandon his homeland to devastation by the dark. He prayed to all he held dear that the remainder of Trelawney's prophecy did not come true.

--end chapter--

Delamater - (origin: Fr.) "Le maitre," the master, overseer, landlord, preceptor.

Hmmm, does this count as a cliffhanger, too? (grin) More about the prophecy in chapter 19...