Chapter 26
THE MINISTRY STRIKES BACK
The rest of the holidays at the Burrow were subdued. Ginny, in defiance of Harry's decision to cut Jon out of the group, had taken to hanging out with him during the day while Harry and Hermione listened to Ron's eager description of Arthur Weasley's journal.
Arthur's uncle Archie had been quite a wizard in Arthur's estimation, it turned out. Mr. Weasley's journal was packed with descriptions of the various gadgets and trinkets his uncle had built over the years. Even Hermione, annoyed that Jon was excluded from their conversations, was impressed at some of his accomplishments as Ron read about them from the journal.
What Harry really wanted to talk about, although he dared not do so with either Ron or Hermione, was Ginny. Her refusal to understand his reluctance to confide in someone who could be a Death Eater, or at least consorted with them, felt like a betrayal. Ginny tended to defend the underdog; she'd stood up for both Neville and Luna when they were bullied at school, and she would fiercely defend Harry (and herself!) whenever Malfoy or his cronies started any nastiness. But Jon was hardly an underdog. Beyond being an American and therefore a bit set apart in the first place, he was just as smart (and perhaps smarter) than even Hermione.
"If you told Ginny not to talk to Jon," Ron prompted him, "she'd come round."
But Harry wouldn't talk to her. "She knows what I think," he said stubbornly. "I'm not going to keep repeating myself."
Ron, however, had no problem doing so. Harry heard them one night when he'd gone to the kitchen for a drink. They were whispering furiously just outside the back door: Ron pointing out her lack of loyalty in siding with Jon, and Ginny insisting that Harry and Ron didn't know everything about what was going on. What that was, exactly, Harry never heard, because she suddenly yanked open the back door and stormed inside, giving Harry a dirty look on the way to her room. Ron came inside a few seconds later, staring after her. "She's gone mental," he said, seeing Harry. "Thinks we're not seeing both sides of the situation."
"Maybe we aren't," Harry said. He knew how much Ginny cared for him. To see her this passionate about Jon's side of the story almost made him want to reconsider his decision. But until he knew for sure what was going on with Jon and Deirdre, though, he couldn't risk it.
The situation became moot that Saturday morning, however, when Harry and Ron came downstairs to find Ginny and Hermione already having breakfast. "Good morning, dears," Mrs. Weasley said, bustling around the kitchen to get them some porridge as well.
"Morning," Harry said, stifling a yawn, and Ron merely grunted. Today was the last free day of Christmas break: tomorrow, they would board the Hogwarts Express to return to school for the spring term, and to a lot more homework in preparation for N.E.W.T.s later in the year.
"Did you both sleep well?" Mrs. Weasley inquired. Harry and Ron both nodded curtly. "Good!" she continued brightly. "I have just a couple of things for you to help me with this morning, before you get on with your day."
Ron and Ginny groaned. "Mum," Ginny said plaintively, "It's our last day before we go back to school."
"Exactly why I need your help today, then," Mrs. Weasley said reasonably. "Don't worry, we'll be done by lunch." To Harry and Hermione she said, "Dears, you won't need to help, of course – Ron and Ginny and I will manage."
"Oh, I'd like to help," Hermione said quickly, and Harry nodded agreement as well.
"Splendid!" Mrs. Weasley said bracingly. "The five of us should be done in no time!"
Ron, scowling, glanced at the empty chair between Ginny and Hermione and asked, "Where's Jon?"
Ginny and Hermione looked at each other. "Gone," Ginny said, biting into a piece of toast.
"Gone?" Harry repeated, coming instantly alert. "What d'you mean, 'gone?' "
Mrs. Weasley finished preparing plates of toast for Harry and Ron and set them in front of each of them. "He came down this morning with his bag and said he had to go back to Hogwarts a day early – he had a few things to do before start of term."
Harry and Ron looked at each other, nonplussed. "How'd he get back?" Ron asked his mother. "Did he use the Floo Network?"
"You know they're not doing that this year, dear," Mrs. Weasley reminded him, "since you can travel on the Hogwarts Express for your first day on Monday."
"He's seventeen, you know," Hermione added. "He might have Apparated."
"Yeah, but does he have an Apparition license?" Ron asked pointedly.
"In America, they can get an Apparition license at sixteen after taking a course," Ginny said.
"But we're not in America, remember?" Ron retorted. "I think you need a Ministry-issued Apparition license to legally Apparate in this country."
"Alright," Mrs. Weasley snapped, her patience wearing thin. "Enough of the legal discussion – eat your porridge, we've got things to do," bringing the argument to a close.
After breakfast Mrs. Weasley divided them into pairs, giving Ginny and Hermione the task of helping her straighten up the living room and kitchen, while Harry and Ron moved all the boxes still in Fred and George's room to the attic.
"Enough of that!" she said sternly as Ron groaned about having to go into the attic again. "You can levitate boxes just as easily as anyone – just mind you don't make a mess in the attic spilling things!"
Grumbling a bit later, out of his mother's hearing, Ron trudged up the staircase to Fred and George's room, followed by Harry, where they each levitated several boxes up to the landing where the stairs led up to the attic door.
"I don't know why we always get these jobs," Ron grumbled, unlocking the attic door with his wand.
"Would you rather be downstairs dusting and sweeping and mopping?" Harry wanted to know.
"Of course not," Ron said with a snort. "But I'd at least like to have the choice!"
They levitated the boxes up the staircase and into a stack next to some old, dusty stacks of boxes they'd pushed together, unchecked, last summer. The ghoul, predictably, growled at them then retreated to the furthest corner to wait for them to leave.
Harry and Ron ran down the stairs, back to Fred and George's room, and repeated the procedure. It got to be great fun as they both attempted to levitate more boxes than the other, and for one to drop his boxes on top of the first as the other set them into place on the floor next to the other boxes.
They had almost finished when both Harry and Ron tried to set their last load of boxes into the same spot, causing them to run into each other and the boxes next to them. Like a row of dominoes toppled by a careless finger, the stacks of boxes crashed into each other, tipping them all over, including the old set at the end; the topmost box slid of and landed on the attic floor with a resounding THUD.
"Is everything all right up there?" Mrs. Weasley immediately called out from downstairs.
"Everything's fine, Mum!" Ron yelled. "A box just fell over!" To Harry he said, shaking his head, "I don't even know how she could have heard that – she must have an Extendable Ear on us or something!"
"Should be simple enough to straighten these out, anyway," Harry said. He pointed his wand to the first fallen stack, saying "Derigus!" The stack of boxes immediately righted itself. Ron repeated the spell on the next boxes, and they continued until only the overturned box remained.
Its contents had spilled onto the floor, and Ron and Harry bent over the contents, scooping them up and dropping them back into the box. As one item fell in, however, it caught Ron's eye and he reached in and fished it out again.
"Hello," he said, interestedly. "What's this? Harry, check this out!" Ron said, holding it out to show to him.
Harry looked at the envelope. The address on it read:
Mr. Arthur Weasley
The Burrow
Ottery St. Catchpole
Devon
"It's never been opened," Ron observed, pointing to the seal.
"This is addressed to your father," Harry said. "Are you going to bring it downstairs to give to him tonight?" He could guess what Ron was going to say about that idea.
"Well, I probably should," Ron mused, hefting the envelope thoughtfully. "But the seal might've broken open when it fell out of the box, and its contents spilled out on the floor. While looking in another direction, he pointed his wand at the seal and said, softly, "Diffindo!" The seal of the envelope split open, and Ron shook its contents into his hand.
What slid out of the envelope was a journal book, and a small, square object. Ron immediately seized the object. "Look at this, Harry!"
Harry looked down at it. It looked like a toy he'd seen Muggles playing with at primary school in Little Whinging: a small square filled with tiles that could be moved side-to-side and up and down into the one open space left in the four-by-four rows. The ones he had seen had most often had tiles with numbers one through fifteen on them, though a few, like this one, had lines that had to be arranged into a picture.
"Blimey!" Ron stared at the square in fascination. "You know what this reminds me of?"
"The moving tiles on the Mystery Vault," Harry said, nodding. It was easy to see why Ron was so excited by this. Ron handed the square to Harry and opened the journal.
"And this!" Ron said excitedly, now waving the book in front of Harry's face. "You're not going to believe what this is!"
"What?"
Holding the book open, Ron pointed to the name printed on the title page under the legend:
This Journal belongs to:
Archimedes L. Weasley
" 'Archimedes?' " Harry repeated, reading the name. "Is that your Uncle Archie?"
"Think so," Ron said, examining the name again closely. "Dad always thought his name was 'Archibald,' but I doubt it could be anyone else."
"I wonder why your father never mentioned this?" Harry pondered, looking at his name on the envelope. "He obviously liked Uncle Archie very much."
"Maybe he didn't know what was in the envelope, Harry," Ron said. "He never did open it, after all."
"I wonder what your dad'll say about it when we show it to him?"
"I'm not going to show it to him," Ron said at once. Then, at the astonished look on Harry's face, he added, "At least, not until I've had a chance to read it myself, first."
"Why wouldn't you show it to him?" Harry blurted out.
Ron frowned, as if he was thinking furiously of a reason to explain why he'd hide such a discovery from his own father. "I – I guess I just want a chance to see what this Uncle Archie's got to say before I hand it over to Dad. For all I know he may not want me to read it. You remember Mum and Dad didn't really want to talk much about him."
"Yes," Harry agreed slowly. "They seemed upset when you brought his name up. I'm just … surprised, I s'pose, that you wouldn't want your dad to know about this, Ron."
"I didn't say I would never tell him, Harry," Ron argued. "I just don't want to tell him straightaway before I've had a chance to read this for myself." He waved the journal in front of him. As he did so, a smaller envelope slid out of its pages and dropped to the floor. Ron bent over to pick it up.
It was an unusual envelope, Harry saw, as Ron examined it; the material felt thinner but stronger than normal parchment. There was no seal; it had evidently fallen off. Removing the single page from it, Ron stared at it for several seconds, then showed it to Harry, who saw nothing but several lines of what looked like random markings which were only otherwise notable for being in neat, orderly rows.
"No idea," Ron muttered at last, replacing the page in the envelope and putting it back in the book.
"So anyway," Harry pressed, trying to get Ron to reconsider. "When do you think you will tell your dad about this?"
"Harry, just let me handle this, okay?" Ron said shortly.
Harry wanted to say more, but abruptly decided to leave it alone. After all, what could it hurt if Ron wanted to read his great-uncle's journal before his father did? It's not as if Mr. Weasley was missing the journal in the first place. He and Ron put the top back on the box he'd opened and went back downstairs, after locking the attic door behind them.
After finishing the rest of the chores Mrs. Weasley had for him, Ron spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening in his room reading his great-Uncle Archie's journal. Harry had never seen Ron study a book so intently since he'd let him read the Chudley Cannons book Ron gave him for Christmas during their second year at Hogwarts.
"It's a pretty amazing read, Harry," Ron told him late that night, even after Harry had complained, for the fifth time, that he wanted to go to sleep. He'd spent the day offering to do Ron's chores for Mrs. Weasley, and she had nearly worn him out insisting that they should get Ron to look after his own work himself.
"I can see why Dad was crazy for this guy," Ron said, ignoring Harry's protests about the lights and going to sleep. "He loved Muggles more than Dad did, if that's even possible. Read all about the great ones in history. He was even proud to be named after one – his name is from an ancient Greek Muggle named –"
"Archimedes," Harry said tiredly. Ron had only mentioned it about a half-dozen times so far that evening.
"– who lived in Greece about the time of Mopsus the Soothsayer, in the city-state of Syracuse. He was –"
"Ron!" Harry said, exasperated. "You've gone through all this about a hundred times now. Can we give it a rest for the night, please?"
Ron looked up, surprised at the irritation in Harry's voice. "Sorry," he said, thrusting the book under his pillow. "Didn't mean to keep you up so late, Mister Potter. I know you need your beauty rest."
"You're starting to sound like Malfoy now," Harry said crossly.
"Oh, that's pretty low," Ron said, now genuinely hurt. He waved his wand at the lamp, extinguishing it, flopped down and turned away from Harry. Angrily, Harry turned away as well.
There was perhaps a half-minute of silence in the dark before both of them muttered, at almost the same moment, "Sorry."
Harry smiled in the darkness.
"Good night, Harry," Ron added a few seconds later.
"Good night, Ron."
***
The trip to King's Cross the next morning was subdued. The weather had turned cold the night before and the skies were overcast. Mrs. Weasley called a taxi again, and even though only Ginny needed to use it, since she couldn't take her Apparition test until after her birthday in August, they all crowded into the back seat together for the ride.
Once there, they quickly and unobtrusively made their way onto Platform 9 ¾ where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wished them all a safe trip, with Mrs. Weasley hugging each of them in turn and Mr. Weasley hugging Ginny, giving Ron an affectionate pat on the arm, and shaking hands with Hermione and Harry.
"I am sorry I missed saying goodbye to Jon," he said, to nobody in particular. "We did have some good conversations about cars."
Harry smiled, in spite of himself. He wondered what Mr. Weasley would say if he knew Jon owned a car that would fly almost twice as fast as the fastest broom on the market, including a Firestar and even Harry's own custom Crown Jewel. Although, thinking about it now, Harry reflected soberly, he wondered if he could continue to trust the brooms his entire team was now flying. None of them would be very happy with him if he ordered them back on their old ones. On the other hand, it would hardly be worth it if one of them was thrown off a cursed broom, as he almost was during his first year playing, when Professor Quirrell, controlled by Voldemort, had tried to kill him.
Saying goodbye a final time to Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys, the four of them boarded the Hogwarts Express and found an empty compartment. Ron settled lazily into place, but as the train began to pull out Hermione almost immediately got to her feet.
"Come on, Ron, we have to patrol the cars."
"No, we don't!" Ron objected. "We're just coming back from Christmas break, Hermione! There's no 'ickle firsties' on here to herd round –"
"Ron, we're prefects."
Sighing, Ron lurched to his feet and slouched out of the compartment after Hermione. He leaned back in for a moment and said to Harry, "Get me something off the lunch trolley, will you? Some pumpkin pastries or Chocolate Caudrons or something." Harry nodded and he was gone.
He and Ginny were alone again.
There was a vaguely uncomfortable silence for several minutes as they listened to the train gathering speed. Both of them looked everywhere but at each other. Harry thought Ginny was about to speak several times but she said nothing, instead glancing out the window just as he felt almost ready to speak himself.
Finally, at the same moment –
"I don't know if I should say this to you –"
"There's something I want to ask you –"
They both stopped abruptly, then both of them laughed and Harry said quickly, "You go first."
"No, you go first," Ginny said.
"Alright. I just wanted you to know I'm glad that you want to defend someone you think is being treated unfairly –"
"It would be simpler if you'd just –"
"—but I think it's just as important that we're better off safe than sorry," Harry finished, cutting off her comment.
"You still don't know everything about the situation," Ginny insisted stubbornly. "And as long as you think Jon's up to something you're not going to give him a fair shake."
"I've given him a lot of 'fair shakes,' Ginny," Harry disagreed. "And for most of the time I've known him he's been a good friend. But that doesn't explain the situation between him and Deirdre, or Deirdre and Bane. What are we going to do if Bane is right about Voldemort and he achieves his quest? And if Jon's on our side, why wouldn't he tell me what he knows about it?"
Ginny sat back, her arms folded across her chest, and glared at him. She knew he was right, Harry sensed; he'd made his point.
But before either of them could say another word, the compartment door opened and Neville Longbottom leaned in, smiling happily at them. "Good morning," he said to both of them. "Enjoying the ride so far?"
"Hi, Neville," Harry said and, seeing Luna standing in the compartment behind him, added, "Hi, Luna."
"Hi," Ginny said, still frowning at Harry. "Yeah, we're having loads of fun."
"Can we join you?" Neville seemed gormless that Harry and Ginny were already engaged in conversation; he appeared to be in almost as dreamlike a state as Luna frequently was. Ginny hesitated a moment, looking at Harry, who shrugged imperceptibly; she then waved them in. Neville and Luna joined them, sitting on Ginny's side facing Harry. Luna's protuberant eyes wandered vaguely around the compartment, frequently stopping on his face; he got the uncomfortable feeling that she was examining him for some reason.
"Well," Neville said, looking at Harry and Ginny in turn. "We had a very nice Christmas, how about you?"
"Wonderful," Harry said.
"Loads of presents," Ginny added.
"Neville made me this," Luna said, touching the butterbeer-cork necklace she was wearing.
Ginny glanced at it. "It looks a lot like the last one you had," she said, sounding doubtful.
"Well, of course it does," Luna said, raising one eyebrow even higher than normal. "He did a very good job." Neville smiled at her.
"About ready for N.E.W.T.s, Harry?" Neville asked, looking back at Harry.
"Not really," Harry said truthfully.
"But you've got almost six months," Ginny put in.
"And he knows Hermione Granger," Luna added. They all looked at her. "She's very smart," she said, looking at Neville. She looked back at Harry. "Neville wanted to take her to the Yule Ball three years ago, but she'd already agreed to go with Viktor Krum."
A year ago, if anyone had said these things in front of Neville he would have done his best to melt into the floor. Now, however, he just chuckled softly and said wryly, "Yeah, I was pretty mortified when she told me no. I wanted to lock myself in the boys' bathroom until school let out for the summer."
"Luna, how's your father?" Ginny asked, to change the subject."Fine," Luna said, now sounding the most alert she'd been since entering the compartment. "He's been very busy with the Quibbler these past six months doing some articles on a number of Seers who've predicted the return of You-Know-Who."
Neville, who'd been happy and cheerful to this point, now looked a trifle sullen. "You know he's just doing that to annoy me, pumpkin."
Ginny looked at Harry and mouthed the word "Pumpkin?" with a look of nausea on her face. Harry shrugged slightly. Neither Neville nor Luna noticed this.
"I don't know why you think Daddy dislikes you," Luna was saying to Neville, looking quite serious for a change. "He wanted to do a special interview with you, just like with Harry, after you defeated You-Know-Who."
"What he wanted," Neville corrected her, "was an interview with me and Harry discussing whether he was the Chosen One or I was." He looked at Harry, an expression of embarrassment on his face. "I didn't think it was right to exploit Harry like that."
"Oh, tosh," Luna said, sounding annoyed. "It would have gotten to the bottom of the whole Snape/Fudge conspiracy to take over Gringotts and the Ministry."
"The WHAT?" Harry said incredulously.
Luna reached into her robe and pulled out a copy of the Quibbler. "Severus Snape and Cornelius Fudge were plotting to take over, first Gringotts, then the Ministry of Magic, from the goblin rights group Uggargligclog, which has been secretly controlling it for the past eighteen months since Fudge was forced to resign."
"So Fudge wasn't forced to resign because of Voldemort's threats against the Ministry?" Ginny asked, unable to resist; there was a twinkle in her eye as she directed this question to Luna.
"That was what the Ministry wanted us to believe, of course," Luna said, matter-of-factly. "They don't want people knowing that the goblins are actually in charge of Gringotts."
"But the goblins are in charge of Gringotts!" Harry protested.
"Exactly," Luna said with a small, knowing smile. She opened up the copy of the Quibbler and disappeared behind it.
Ginny chuckled softly, and Harry shook his head, confused. Did Luna think she had just out-argued him? Had she?
The compartment door slid open and Ron and Hermione entered. "Everything looks fine," Hermione said, sitting down opposite Ginny while Ron slid in next to Harry, across from Neville.
"We were just talking about you," Ginny said to Hermione, grinning. By Harry's reckoning, actually, they were about six or so subjects beyond Hermione at the moment, the topics were shifting so fast.
"Really, what about?" Hermione inquired.
"Just about how smart you were," Luna said vaguely from behind her copy of the Quibbler.
"Oh," Hermione looked a bit surprised. "Thank you, I hope," she said with some uncertainty.
"Oh, nothing bad at all," Neville said quickly. "We were just discussing N.E.W.T.s."
That, of course, launched Hermione into a discussion (more of a monologue, Harry decided, after about ten minutes or so of her non-stop talking) on how to study various subjects for N.E.W.T.s and what was important to know during the practical examinations. Neville was listening raptly to her, and Ginny watched her thoughtfully. Luna continued to read the Quibbler, while Harry and Ron began an impromptu game of rock, paper, scissors.
The lunch trolley came by, halting Hermione's lecture, and they all bought snacks. Harry bought a few extra Chocolate Frogs and Cauldrons, and some other items, and handed them round to share. They sat munching, reading, chatting and dozing for the afternoon as the train traveled northward under the increasingly cold, graying skies.
Everyone roused themselves as the train began slowing down as it approached Hogsmeade Station. By the time it had come to a halt, everyone's bags and cages were in hand and they disembarked and made their way quickly in the chill early evening air toward the thestral-drawn carriages waiting for them.
Harry stopped for a moment, trying to decide which carriage they would use, when he was shoved from behind by Malfoy as he, Crabbe and Goyle walked by.
"Making a habit of trying to push people around, aren't you, Malfoy?" Harry said, as he recovered and turned to face them.
"Then don't stand about like a great lump, Potter," Malfoy said maliciously, as Hermione and Ron stepped up to frame Harry on either side. "You'll get in important people's way."
"Being Head Boy gone to your head, then?" Harry sneered. "I'm surprised you were able to board the train with an ego that big."
Rather than becoming flushed with anger, however, Malfoy chuckled. "We'll see how big your ego is, Potter, once things start popping around here in the next day or two."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron snarled.
"Oh, you'll see," Malfoy drawled airily, half-turning as if to walk away. He stopped, though, and his expression turned hard. "I said you'd bought a load of trouble. Now you can deal with it." He turned and stalked off to one of the carriages, followed by a smirking Crabbe and Goyle.
"Never mind him," Hermione said to Harry.
"He's got something up his sleeve, though," Harry muttered as they piled into a carriage: him, Ron, Hermione on one side, Ginny, Neville and Luna opposite them. It lurched into motion as the door closed, and the line of carriages made its way along the road toward Hogsmeade and the front gates of Hogwarts.
Harry waved at passing Gryffindors as they made their way up to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione showed up a few minutes later, after stopping by McGonagall's office to retrieve the common room's password.
"It's 'belladonna,' " Hermione said, and they passed through the Fat Lady's portrait and into the room. "She didn't really seem herself today," Hermione murmured as they made their way to a nearby table.
"Who, the Fat Lady?" Ron asked. "So what?"
"No, Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, looking concerned. "She was distracted by something she'd just read. It was lying on her desk, she didn't even try to cover it up while she was telling me the password."
"So, what's up, then?" Ron prompted her. "What was she reading?"
"I couldn't read much of it," she told them. "But it was on Ministry of Magic stationery and the first sentence said that Aurors would arrive at Hogwarts on Monday morning, the beginning of term."
"We had Aurors here all last year," Ginny said with a sniff. "Tonks and few others, down in Hogsmeade. We hardly saw them at all. I wonder what this lot will be about?"
Harry said nothing, but he'd made an instant connection between the Aurors mentioned in the letter to McGonagall and the Aurors he'd bribed in Azkaban, the ones Snape had warned him, when he was pretending to be Draco would eventually come back to bite him.
The Great Hall was filled the next morning when Harry and Ron arrived for breakfast. "We found notes this morning that said to come down for breakfast this morning for a special announcement," Harry told Hermione as they squeezed in next to her.
"We got them too," Hermione nodded as she lightly buttered a piece of toast. "I think Professor McGonagall is going to tell us about the Aurors."
And indeed, a few minutes before the first classes of the day were scheduled to begin, Professor McGonagall stood from the center chair of the Head Table and called for silence. The hubbub in the Hall rapidly died away as everyone turned to listen to her.
"There are Aurors here this morning from the Ministry of Magic," McGonagall said into the silence. "There have been some disturbing accusations of theft and misuse of seventh-year liberty, and several students will be questioned. If you are called from one of your classes, please report to the deputy headmaster's office."
Snape's office, Harry thought grimly. How appropriate a location for questioning by the Ministry of Magic.
"I remind you all," McGonagall continued, "that a student being called from class is not an implication of guilt of any sort; it is merely the Ministry's intention to gather all the facts it requires in order to make a determination of what has occurred."
"And expel you on the spot if they think you're guilty," Ron muttered to Harry, echoing his own thoughts.
"They won't expel anyone without Professor McGonagall's approval," Hermione whispered.
"D'you think she'll go against the Ministry?" Ron said, sounding dubious.
"Professor Dumbledore did," Hermione said pointedly.
"But she's not Dumbledore," Harry said flatly. It was not a denigration of her ability as Headmistress, but a simple statement of fact.
McGonagall had been admonishing anyone called to speak with the Aurors to be truthful and straightforward. "I hope everyone will cooperate fully with the Ministry in order to bring this investigation to a swift end. Finally, I and the other teachers at Hogwarts welcome all of you back, especially those who will be in preparation for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s later this year. Good luck to all of you. You are all dismissed to your first period classes."
Harry, Ron and Hermione grabbed their books and made their way to Herbology, where Professor Sprout wasted no time outlining their coursework for the rest of the year, including their N.E.W.T. work. "You'll be expected to identify several types of plants," she told them, bustling around the greenhouse checking their preparations for class, "including potentially dangerous ones like draconia."
"Draconia?" Ron whispered to Harry, who shrugged. Their preparations this morning, which were becoming more and more the norm for the types of plants they'd been studying lately, required them to wear gum shields, protective goggles and gloves, as well as, for today's assignment, neck shielding. Today's assignment was to peel strips of bark from strangler figs. The plants, not native to Britain, were brought from the east over a thousand years ago and were used in Aging Potions as well as Felix Felicis.
"Chapter 30 of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Ron," Hermione muttered wearily. "Honestly, how do either of you expect to pass your Herbology N.E.W.T.s if you're not doing the assignments?"
"We haven't even been assigned chapter 30 yet!" Ron protested.
"Professor Sprout assigned it during our last class last term." Hermione pointed to a notation she'd made in her schedule book that day listing that chapter of their Herbology book as a reading assignment. "It's not my fault you're not paying attention in class, Ron."
"Never mind," Harry said hastily, looking at the tree they were standing around. It was quivering slightly, as if anticipating what they were about to do to it. "We'll get round to reading it, Hermione."
"Fine," she sniffed. "Let's get on with it, then," she said, indicating the strangler fig. They each attacked a side of the tree with their debarking blades, cutting thin lines which they then peeled off the tree and placed in a bucket.
True to its name, the strangler fig did not stand idle while this was going on. Thinner branches from the upper limbs of the tree reached down, attempting to curl around their necks and throttle them. They worked in rotation; as the limbs began to wrap around one person they stopped cutting while the next person took up the job, causing the limbs to move toward them.
"How's it going?" Neville called from a nearby tree, where he, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott were engaged in similar activity. Neville's bucket was already nearly full.
"Fantastic," Ron replied sarcastically as limbs began to wrap around his neck. He stopped cutting and watched as Harry quickly cut strips from his part of the tree.
"You're doing great, Ron," Neville said, grinning.
"Wonderful," Ron muttered as Harry stopped cutting to let the branches move from him to Hermione as she began cutting. "I can just see myself as a professional tree stripper." Harry snickered.
At the end of class they dropped off their buckets with Professor Sprout, put away their goggles, gloves and neck protectors, and headed to their next class after Herbology, Transfiguration.
They had to take a detour; Peeves was causing problems on one of the staircases, keeping students from passing. Hermione started forward to argue with Peeves, but Lisa Turpin, one of the Hufflepuff prefects, was already shouting at him to get off. They doubled back, taking a longer route, and arrived at the Transfiguration classroom just the bell sounded for class.
Tonks was waiting outside the door, Harry saw that her expression was tense. She pushed the door closed as they walked up, and said in a low voice, "Ron, Hermione, I've just gotten a note that you're to report to Snape's office for questioning by Ministry Aurors."
Hermione's eyes widened. "What do they want to question us for?"
"I don't know," Tonks said flatly. "McGonagall asked me to send out a few owls to some of my contacts at the Ministry, to see what was up, but nothing came back." She tried to smile encouragingly, but it was a futile effort. "Just be honest with them and I'm sure things'll be fine."
Ron eyed her dubiously. "It hasn't worked that well for us so far," he muttered. He and Hermione turned and started back toward Snape's office.
After a few steps, however, Hermione turned and looked back at Harry. "It'll be alright," he told her, seeing the look of panic in her eyes. She nodded, looking very uncertain, then she and Ron both disappeared up the corridor.
"She doesn't look happy at all," Tonks said softly as she and Harry watched them walk out of sight.
"She believes that telling the truth is always the best policy," Harry said.
"Hm," Tonks mused, looking at him. "And you don't, Harry?"
"Well, I've learned, rather the hard way, that it isn't."
"Come on, then," Tonks said. "Let's get class started before everyone starts wondering where we've gotten off to." She opened the door and she and Harry walked into the Transfiguration classroom.
There were numerous whispered conversations going on as Harry took his seat. He looked at Jon and Deirdre, seated together near the desks where he, Ron and Hermione usually sat. Both of their faces were expressionless as he sat down alone. Malfoy's face, however, was wearing a malicious smile as Harry caught a glimpse of it before turning to face Professor Tonks, who had stepped in front of her desk, motioning for silence.
"Let's get started, shall we?" Tonks said as the conversations finally died away. "This term, we'll start discussions on –"
"Professor?" Malfoy had raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"We still have two students missing, Professor," Malfoy gleefully pointed out. "Aren't you going to wait for them?"
"They have permission to be absent from class," Tonks said curtly.
"Answering some questions, are they?" Malfoy suggested maliciously while the other Slytherins present sniggered behind their hands.
"That's not your concern, is it?" Tonks pointed out. "Now that'll be enough from you, Mr. Malfoy," she added sternly as Malfoy opened his mouth again. Most of the class, Harry included, was staring at Malfoy; he gave Harry a smirk but otherwise held his peace.
Harry saw Deirdre turn and whisper something to Jon, who shrugged and shook his head. She glanced furtively in Harry's direction then looked away quickly when she saw he was watching her. It was very easy for Harry to guess that they had something to do with Ron and Hermione's questioning. What he had to figure out was, what connection was there between those two and Malfoy. Or Snape, for that matter.
Tonks got the class underway. As expected, she began by discussing the upcoming N.E.W.T.-level tests and what they could expect to see on both the theoretical and practical portions. Harry tried to write down what Tonks was saying; he knew Hermione would be distraught if she missed the information.
"The 'big secret' of Transfiguration, if you want to call it that," Tonks confided to the class at the end of her description of the final coursework, "is that once you've gotten the hang of Cross-Species and Cross-Kingdom Switches, it's pretty much just a matter of practicing."
Harry, who'd been dutifully copying down Tonks' words, held up his hand. "Yes, Harry?" she said, pointing to him.
"Professor, what about spells that bring things to life? That seems to be much more involved than the other way round."
"Example?" Tonks asked.
"Er –" the only example Harry could think of in the moment was something he didn't want to mention explicitly "— well, how about bringing a statue to life?"
Tonks took out her wand. "Like this?" she said, gesturing at a small statue of Myron Wagtail sitting on her desk. The statue jerked, startled, then waved at the class. Several of the students chuckled.
"Well, yeah," Harry said. "I was thinking of a bigger statue –"
"I know what you were thinking of," Tonks said. "But we're not really putting 'life' into the statue. It will only do what I've intended for it to do, which is to react to motion toward it and wave at anyone looking at it every so often." As if to punctuate this point the statue waved again. "The more complicated you want the object's actions to be, the more complicated the spell will be, even if there are only a few words to speak or think."
"What about something like the Sorting Hat?" Jon spoke up.
"That's a really good example," Tonks said, nodding. "We don't know exactly how Godric Gryffindor and the other Hogwarts Founders created the Sorting Hat, but it must've involved a lot of Transfiguration, Charm and perhaps even some Leglimency."
There was a knock at the door and a tall wizard with short, grey hair walked into the room. Harry recognized him at once as the Auror Dawlish, who had tried to arrest Dumbledore two years ago on Cornelius Fudge's orders.
Tonks nodded to him in respectful recognition as he approached her. Dawlish, however, did not return her greeting. Wordlessly he handed her a small piece of paper. She glanced at it, her eyes flickering briefly to Harry, then sighed.
"Harry Potter, Jonathan Crown, come up here, please," she said quietly. As they stood up Dawlish murmured something to Tonks and she added, "Bring your books as well, please."
Harry and Jon each gathered up their things. Harry glanced at the rest of the class as he finished stuffing his books into his book bag: Deirdre looked rather panicked, while Malfoy was smiling nastily nearly from ear to ear; the other Slytherins were whispering and snickering among themselves. The rest of the class was looking at each other and Harry in varying degrees of confusion; a few, like Zacharias Smith, were shaking their heads in disgust or disappointment.
Harry and Jon both approached Dawlish. "What's this about?" Jon asked as he stopped in front of the Auror, who made no reply but looked at Jon with an expression of contempt on his face.
"You're to report to Snape's office for questioning," Tonks said, very quietly. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw several students lean forward, trying to catch her words. "This Auror will accompany you."
"Has it moved?" Jon asked sardonically.
"Just go with him, Jon," Tonks said, her tone a warning.
Jon looked at her and nodded. At a gesture from Dawlish he walked out the door with Harry into the hallway. They followed him silently through the school corridors to Snape's office. He was still using the same office as he had the previous year, located near the Potions classroom along the corridor from the staircase down from entrance hall to the dungeon level.
During the walk down, Harry had time to wonder about why they were bringing both him and Jon down to Snape's together. Did they think he and Jon were acting together in some way? Why hadn't they brought him and Jon down with Ron and Hermione? Beside him, Jon was now silent, though he didn't appear apprehensive or intimidated by Dawlish's refusal to speak to them. Whatever was going on, Harry thought, he wasn't going to be lumped in with whatever they thought Jon was up to.
They arrived at Snape's office. As usual, it was dimly lit and chilly; there was no fire going in the fireplace. Shelves along the walls were lined with row after row of large glass jars filled with very unpleasant looking things. There were two plain, wooden chairs placed in front of Snape's large wooden desk. The room was almost exactly as Harry remembered it from his detentions at the end of the previous year; the only thing missing from it was – Snape.
At Snape's desk sat, instead of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a handsome, dark-haired wizard with sharp, penetrating black eyes and a black goatee that tapered to a sharp, curled tip. He was dressed in a dark robe similar to Dawlish's; Harry guessed he was an Auror as well.
"Well, Mr. Potter and Mr. Crown, we meet at last," the wizard said, rising and coming out from behind the desk to stand before them. "I am Alexander Nomolous, with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." His accent, while unlike Jon's, was vaguely different, as if he was used to speaking a language other than English. "Why don't you both have a seat?" He indicated the two chairs in front of Snape's desk. "I have a few questions for you and then you can both be on your way." Turning to Dawlish he said, "Thank you, I'll call you when I'm finished with them."
Harry and Jon each took a seat. Harry heard the door to Snape's office click shut behind them; a moment later there was a louder click as the door was locked from the other side. What did it mean, he wondered, that they were being locked in this room with this man, who was obviously an Auror?
Nomolous sat down behind Snape's desk and smiled genially at both of them. He was attempting, Harry expected, to win their confidence. Or at least to appear innocuous, perhaps. "You're both in seventh year, aren't you?" Nomolous asked. Harry and Jon each nodded.
The Auror consulted some parchment scrolls on the desk before him. "Interesting… it says here, Harry, you were thinking of becoming an Auror, yes?"
"Yes," Harry answered.
"And Jonathan, do you have any career aspirations?" Nomolous inquired, looking at Jon expectantly.
"At present, I still haven't decided," Jon said.
"Any thoughts on what you might be interested in?"
"Well, I hear the 'Dark Lord' position hasopened up recently," Jon said, dryly.
Harry looked at him in disbelief, but Nomolous only chuckled. "Very good! A sense of humor. I can appreciate that." He looked at Harry. "You, of course, Harry, have firsthand knowledge of that yourself, having had several confrontations with He-Who-Must-No-Be-Named in the last few years."
The Auror looked over several more rolls of parchment on the desk in front of him. "You both know, I take it, a Mr. Draco Malfoy?"
Here we are, Harry thought. Did Malfoy tip them off about Azkaban? Or did something happen with the Aurors there?
"I understand there was a fight between Malfoy and you, Mr. Crown," Nomolous said, still looking at his papers.
"Yes," Jon said evenly. "He challenged me to a duel at the beginning of the school year."
"Interesting," Nomolous said. "In his statements he says that you challenged him." He looked up, directly into Jon's eyes. "Are you sure you aren't mistaken in saying he challenged you, Jon?"
"No, I'm not mistaken," Jon replied firmly. "He challenged me. Harry and his friend Ron Weasley both heard him."
They held each others' gaze for several moments. Harry had the distinct impression that Nomolous was a Leglimens – the methods he was using were very similar to Snape's eye contact and look of concentration. But if he was getting anything from Jon, it was impossible to tell: Jon's eyes were as steady as the Auror's own.
After a few moments, Nomolous smiled and reached for another piece of parchment in front of him. "There is also the matter of Azkaban," he said, looking at Harry, who now had the uncomfortable feeling that his own thoughts had been read as well.
"What about Azkaban?" Jon asked, as if he had no idea what the Auror was talking about.
"Draco Malfoy," Nomolous said, looking at another scroll in front of him, "had been traveling to Azkaban Prison, off and on, since the beginning of the school year to visit his father, who is there serving a sentence for breaking into the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries and attempting to steal a prophecy, as well as attacking and harming several people during the course of that break-in.
"His Head of House, Severus Snape, informed us that Malfoy struck a deal with him not to travel to Azkaban because it was causing undue stress and strain on both his father and mother. However, Malfoy began having his friends masquerade as him using Polyjuice Potion and traveling secretly to the prison to continue seeing his father."
"Malfoy told you all this?" Harry blurted out unbelievingly.
"Some of it," Nomolous smiled. "We also have statements from two Aurors who work at the prison, Agarn and Rourke, that he was there the Sunday before the end of term. However, Malfoy also made some interesting claims about you and Jon, Harry."
"Like what?" Jon asked.
Nomolous picked up another scroll and began reading from it. "Here's what Malfoy wrote in his statement: 'When I left the prison I just gotten my broom from the guard shed when I saw who I thought was Gregory Goyle running toward me on the beach. I could hardly believe that because I had left him at school with enough Polyjuice Potion to keep him looking like me for several hours. I quickly deduced that it had to be Harry Potter and challenged him, but I was attacked from behind by, I believe, Ronald Weasley and Jon Crown. I was Stunned unconscious but kept waking up inside what I thought was an illegal flying car being driven by Crown. Once I was conscious for several minutes before Weasley Stunned me again. I woke up next to my broom outside the main gates of Hogwarts, with my robe draped over me. That's when I discovered that my Ever-Filling Purse was gone.'" Nomolous dropped the scroll onto the desk. "I expect you can see why Malfoy was willing to admit that he'd traveled to Azkaban and to giving the Aurors on duty there bribes – his mother is very concerned about the whereabouts of that purse."
But Harry was confused. "What's an 'Ever-Filling Purse?'" he asked.
"Never heard of that?" Nomolous smiled indulgently. "It's a purse provided by Gringotts for certain, shall we say, 'privileged' customers. It forms a direct link between one of their vaults, so that you can always reach in and take out the exact amount of gold you need."
"That would be pretty handy," Jon said, sounding impressed.
"Indeed," Nomolous agreed. "That is why we want to know what Harry has done with it."
Harry was stunned. "I didn't take it!" he protested.
"We have conducted raids on the homes of the two Aurors, and have searched their desks and lockers at the Ministry," Nomolous said, looking at yet another piece of parchment. "No purse was found and the two Aurors claim that when Malfoy returned a second time that day, he paid them an additional 25 Galleons apiece from the Purse, then returned it to his pocket."
"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "No, that's not right! I think I dropped the purse on one of their desks."
"You think?"
"I did," Harry corrected himself quickly. He abandoned all pretense of not knowing what Nomolous was talking about. "Professor Snape was there that day – he may have seen it as well."
"Professor Snape does not remember seeing a purse at all," Nomolous said, now frowning. "He was not there when you bribed the Aurors, was he?"
"N-no…" Harry said slowly. "But — but – those two Aurors are lying!" he finally blurted out, knowing exactly how lame the excuse sounded. "You – you could use Veritaserum on them to find out."
"I would use Veritaserum on you before I would on two Ministry Aurors, Harry!" Nomolous said forcefully.
"But they are lying!" Harry insisted.
"They say you are lying, Harry," Nomolous said flatly. "But I don't think you are," he continued in a more genteel tone. "I think someone else may have taken the purse from you, then changed your memories so you don't remember." He turned and looked significantly at Jon.
Jon laughed heartily. "I wondered when I was going to come up in this conversation," he said as he finally stopped laughing.
"Would you care to deny the fact that you own a 1966 Chevrolet Corvette, illegally modified to fly in direct violation of the laws regarding the misuse of Muggle artifacts?" Nomolous demanded, his pretense of geniality suddenly gone.
"No, I won't deny that," Jon shrugged. "But it's not illegal to own such a vehicle in America."
"It is, however, illegal here," Nomolous said loudly. "And here is where you have it!"
"No, it's not here," Jon said clearly. Harry looked at him quickly. Jon's face was carefully expressionless, as if he expected a Leglimency attack from Nomolous – which in truth Harry would as well, to see if he was telling the truth.
"There is no use lying," Nomolous said sternly. "We already have statements from Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley about the existence and location of said vehicle."
"And where would that be?" Jon inquired innocently.
"The Shrieking Shack, in Hogsmeade," the Auror said with a triumphant grin.
But Jon merely shrugged and said, "I suppose you should go look, then."
"Oh, we are, right now, as we speak!" Nomolous said, now beginning to heat up. "And we won't go easy on you, boy, when we find it. You'd have done better to admit your guilt; at least then you might've given back Madam Malfoy's Purse and gotten off with a fine and deportation back to America. As it stands you'll probably do time in Azkaban."
"Well, we'll see," Jon said, sounding positively airy. How could he possibly be so cool about this, Harry wondered, half-afraid for him in spite of the problems he had caused. Azkaban, even without the dementors running around it, was no place for a 17-year old.
"Yes, we will," Nomolous concurred. He stood. "I'll be back in a few moments. Can I get you anything to drink while I'm out? Would you like a plate sent up, lunch is nearly over."
"No," said Harry, who could hardly think of eating at the moment.
"I'm fine," Jon said as well.
"Very well. Sit tight." Nomolous left the room, locking it behind him.
After Nomolous left, it was several minutes before Jon and Harry even looked at one another.
Finally Jon dared to turn to him. "Harry –"
"I don't know what you think you're going to prove with this!" Harry nearly exploded at him. "You know very well you have –"
"They're watching us, you know," Jon cut over him.
"I don't care!" Harry shouted. "I'm not lying!"
"That doesn't mean you're right, though," Jon pointed out, maddeningly.
Harry took a deep breath to begin shouting again, then suddenly let it out without a sound. It was pointless to shout about this, he realized; they would find the car in the Shrieking Shack and that would be the end of it.
At least, that was what Harry desperately wanted to believe, except that Jon's calm attitude was completely at odds with what he, Harry, knew to be true: there was a 1966 Corvette in the Shrieking Shack, and they had gone to Azkaban in it. Twice. As well as several times to Diagon Alley. Well, hadn't they?
They waited through lunch. Harry was beginning to regret declining Nomolous's offer of a meal. Jon continued to sit quietly long after Harry began fidgeting in his chair, which had rapidly become uncomfortable After Harry had shifted in his seat about the twentieth time, Jon looked over and said, "You could conjure yourself up a pillow, you know."
Harry ignored him. He was already in enough trouble, he thought, distractedly.
"I mean," Jon continued, almost as if Harry had spoken his thoughts aloud, "what's the harm in having a pillow to sit on?" He took out his wand, waved it in the air in front of himself, and caught a small cushion as it fell out of thin air. Tossing it on the floor in front of Harry, he repeated the gesture, then stood, placed the second cushion on the chair and sat on it.
"Ahhhh," he said, replacing his wand in his robe. "Much better."
Harry looked down at the cushion on the floor in front of him, but before he could decide whether to pick it up or not, the door to Snape's office opened and Nomolous strode into the room, looking grim.
Instead of going behind Snape's desk, he walked up and stopped directly in front of Jon's chair, staring at him with his hands on his hips. "A very neat trick, Mr. Crown," he said finally, as if giving grudging admiration.
"Thanks," Jon said blandly. "But it's just a couple of pillows."
Nomolous leaned down so his handsome features, now twisted in anger, were barely a foot from Jon's. "Your car, you little snot! Don't play the innocent with me!"
"My car," Jon said again, "Is in America. I told you that earlier."
Nomolous stood and walked around to sit at Snape's desk once again. He began gathering up the various scrolls, sheets, and folders of parchment, replacing them in a briefcase that had sat open on the desk until now.
"Fine," he said as he packed. "We still have quite enough to deal with Harry, who has admitted to giving a bribe to Ministry Aurors, who will corroborate that statement –"
"You mean," Jon corrected, "they will admit that Draco Malfoy bribed them, not once, not even twice, but several times over the course of the past four months, then suddenly he loses his mother's enchanted coin purse and starts blaming Harry, his greatest rival at school, for it."
"But –" Harry began, but Jon held up a hand and Harry cut himself off.
"What did you find at the Shrieking Shack, sir?" Jon asked Nomolous.
Nomolous appeared furious at the question. "You know damned well we found nothing! If we had –"
"If you had you would undoubtedly be whisking me off to Azkaban at this very moment to await a trial that might never happen."
"How dare you –" Nomolous sputtered, enraged at the American's impudence.
"I think you've got that backwards," Jon said, cutting him off. "How dare you come in here and accuse me without adequate evidence? What it looks like," he said, getting to his feet and leaning over the desk at Nomolous, "is that your Aurors at Azkaban either stole Malfoy's purse, or he lost it, there or somewhere else, and now you're trying to turn it into some kind of – you'll excuse the expression – witch hunt!"
The door suddenly flew open and Snape burst in, striding furiously across the room to stand before the Auror. "What's the matter with you, Nomolous? You have all the evidence you need to throw Potter in Azkaban! Get on with it!"
"I don't!" Nomolous hissed. "Scrimgeour won't have it! He barely tolerated Fudge's playing fast and loose with the law – our methods have been severely curtailed under the new administration!"
Snape spun around to point an accusing finger at Potter. "You've done this deliberately, haven't you? Set up this farce – trying to discredit me – it won't work, do you hear me?"
"I – I don't –" Harry began. He was utterly bewildered by Snape's wild, nonsensical accusations.
"Don't say anything, Harry," Jon said, as if Harry were about to say something else entirely different.
"Then explain it to me, Mr. Crown," Snape said, his voice cracking like a whip. "Granger and Weasley both admit to being passengers in your car multiple times, traveling to Diagon Alley to see that asinine Vault Tournament being held there. How do you explain that?"
"Pretty easily, actually," Jon said, returning to his seat. "It was to help Ron get over his Apparition anxiety."
" 'Apparition anxiety?' " Nomolous, Snape and Harry all said at once. "What the devil are you talking about?" Snape snapped.
"Ron failed his first Apparition test last year," Jon said. "Just barely, but a miss is as good as a mile, and he was very apprehensive about taking the test again. He did, though, in August with Harry, and passed this time. Again, just barely.
"So the idea of Apparating by himself has always been a source of great worry for Ron, but he also really wanted to go to those Vault Tournaments. When Harry told me this just before the first Vault Tournament was scheduled to begin, I suggested we use the opportunity to give Ron an incentive to learn to Apparate."
Although this was all sheer fabrication, Harry held his peace. He was curious, in a bizarre way, to see where Jon was going. The look of incredulity that appeared on Snape's face was almost comical. "What are you trying to say, Crown? That you somehow tricked Potter, Weasley and Granger into believing they were traveling in a car, for three hours at a time, in three or four separate incidents? What kind of fools do you take us for?"
"Just average ones, it appears," Jon said with a pitying smile.
Snape looked as if his head would explode. He turned away, probably to hide his rage and frustration. Nomolous watched him, looking hideously uncomfortable and nervous. Truthfully, Harry could guess how they felt; and if what Jon said was true, they'd been completely fooled by whatever Jon had done to them.
Just as Nomolous stepped up to Snape and asked, "Severus? Are you alright? Severus?" Jon looked at Harry, and winked.
Nomolous was about to reach out and touch Snape when the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher put up a hand to stop him. "Stay here," he said to Harry and Jon. Flinging open the door, he strode away down the corridor leading to the dungeons and the Potions classroom.
He returned a minute later with Ron and Hermione in tow. Pushing them into the room ahead of him, Snape closed the door behind him. "Now," he said tightly, bringing his wand out, "we'll get to the bottom of this."
He pointed his wand at Ron. "Weasley! Do you ever feel apprehensive or anxious about Apparating?"
"What?" Ron said. He was still completely intimidated by Snape's aggressive behavior, Harry could tell. "I-I'm – sometimes I am," he stumbled over his words.
"When?" Snape asked quickly.
"Well, when… when…" Ron said, hesitating.
"When what?!" Snape shouted.
"When I'm around you!" Ron finally blurted out.
Snape's eyes narrowed. "Why would you say that?"
"Because you've always put him down for it!" Hermione cried, too incensed to remain quiet. "You told him last year he couldn't even Apparate a half-inch across the room!"
Ron nodded. "I remember that!"
Snape looked as if he'd just been poleaxed. He and Nomolous were both crushed, defeated, spent. "Everyone out," Snape said, pointing to the door. "Back to your classes, or wherever you're supposed to be now. Potter – not you. You stay," he said as they all turned to go. Harry nodded encouragingly at Ron and Hermione; Hermione nodded in return, with a small smile, and Ron gave him a thumbs-up. They exited with Jon, closing the door behind them, leaving Snape and Harry staring tensely at each other with looks of deepest loathing on both their faces.
"What now, Snape?" Nomolous asked uncertainly.
Eyes still fixed on Harry, an expression of hatred on his face, Snape pointed to the door of his office. "Get out, Nomolous."
"See here, Snape!" Nomolous said indignantly. "You can't order me about! I'm a senior Auror!"
Snape's head turned and he transfixed Nomolous with a deadly stare. "Get out, or wake up in St. Mungo's. In June." Nomolous saw the look in his eyes, and got out.
After the door shut behind Nomolous, Snape's gaze returned to Harry. "I suppose," he said, his voice dripping venom, "that you have cause to be happy about the outcome of today's mischief."
Harry said nothing. In truth, he was mightily surprised he was still attending Hogwarts, but he knew, through bitter experience, not to give Snape any reason to gloat, even if only in defeat.
"Get out," Snape said coldly. "But – before you go," he added, as Harry turned toward the door. "A word of caution: I know what you were doing at Azkaban."
Once again Harry was jolted. "What do you know?" he asked impulsively.
"I know," Snape said, with a penetrating look at him, "about the Helm of Gryffindor."
Inwardly, Harry cursed. "From Lucius Malfoy?" he demanded.
"It's not your concern how I know," Snape said dismissively.
Right, Harry thought bitterly, because learning about it from Malfoy would mean you're still a Death Eater.
Unless… a horrible thought had occurred to Harry. What if he had learned about it from Ron or Hermione? They'd been sent to Snape's office almost three-quarters of an hour before he and Jon were summoned there. Snape had had ample time then to wrest the information about it from them then.
Harry clamped down on his fear that just that had happened, and pushed away his loathing of Snape. He could not afford to let Snape see it in him; to do so would be just like handing over a powerful weapon to him. But he still had something to say to Snape.
"If you're still on our side, you know why we have to find the Helm of Gryffindor," Harry said evenly.
"Potter, stop being so arrogant as to presume to tell me what I should do for 'our side,' as you put it," Snape said, his voice icy. "I know very well just what, exactly, I should be doing for 'our side.' "
"Been hard to tell that, lately," Harry said acidly.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, for cheek," Snape said automatically. "Now, get out of my sight!"
Harry fled from Snape's office, returning quickly to the Gryffindor common room. There he found Ron and Hermione sitting next to each other on a divan, holding hands. They looked up as Harry entered the common room.
"Over here, Harry!" Hermione called. Harry walked over, feeling himself beginning to shake as he approached. He had no idea what he would say once he reached them.
"Are you alright?" Ron asked as Harry stopped in front of them. Harry shook his head but said nothing more. He stood there, seemingly for a long time. No one spoke, waiting for someone else to say something.
"Where's Jon?" Harry asked.
"No idea," Ron said at once. "He split up from us as just as we reached the seventh floor. Said he had some stuff to do."
Harry nodded, although he had no idea what Jon was up to any more.
"What is it?" Hermione finally asked, to break the silence that had become almost unbearable.
"Snape knows about the Helm of Gryffindor," he said in a low tone.
"How?" Ron and Hermione asked at once, at the same time.
"He wouldn't tell me," Harry said. "But –" he didn't want to say what he had to next. "D-did either of you think about it while you were being questioned?"
"Leglimency?" Hermione said, voicing Harry's unspoken fear. "But Snape never talked to us directly, Harry. It was that tall wizard, Dawlish, who questioned us, and he barely made eye contact. I don't think he's a Leglimens," she concluded. "And Snape never had time – he just came and got us at the end there and brought us to his office, where you and Jon were."
"Jon and Deirdre have some connection with Bane, and both he and Firenze believe there is some upheaval coming where Voldemort will achieve his quest," Harry said. "Whatever that connection is, we have to find out what secrets they know about the upcoming 'upheaval' the centaurs have spoken about."
The word "secret" made Hermione's expression harden. "What?" Harry asked, seeing the change in her face.
"Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick came in over the lunch period and closed up the entrance to the secret passageway," Hermione said, looking over at the fireplace.
Harry looked quickly at Ron, who nodded glumly. Hermione continued, "Dean was up in your dormitory getting something out of his trunk. When he came down, they were in the middle of removing the charms. Dean said McGonagall didn't look too happy having to remove a part of Hogwarts history. Flitwick told her and Snape the passageway appeared to be over 700 years old, at least as old as Gryffindor Tower itself."
"I, um, sort of mentioned to Dean afterwards that we already knew about it," Ron added ruefully. "He wasn't too happy with us, either, about that."
"I can't blame him," Harry shrugged. Keeping secrets from your friends isn't really being a friend, is it?
"You still aren't convinced about Jon, are you?" Hermione said, sounding almost sad.
"I don't know," Harry said, and that was the truth.
The next morning's Daily Prophet had huge news: Rita Skeeter had somehow gotten wind of the Malfoy's purloined purse and had written a lurid article on it, naming names and speculating wildly on the depth of what had been covered up, in her opinion.
Students who didn't get the Prophet delivered were clustered around those who did. Hermione, unrolling her own copy after it had been delivered, read the headline aloud: "'Ministry Covers Up Auror Bribery, Theft Scandal.'" Harry, who'd slid in next to her once he saw the paper coming, read along silently as she read aloud for those listening.
"Ministry officials attempted vainly to maintain the web of secrecy and lies woven around a bribery and theft ring preying upon families of the prisoners at Azkaban prison.
"One Ministry official, Alexander Nomolous, an Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, told this reporter, "The ringleaders were not acting on behalf of the Ministry, which has always allowed free access to prisoners, under controlled conditions, of course."
"Mr. Nomolous then read a statement prepared by Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour: "The Ministry, and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, both deplore the illegal actions of Aurors Morgan Agarn and Randolph Rourke in accepting bribes to allow family members to visit prisoners at Azkaban Prison. We also deeply regret the loss of items by family members during their visits. However, an intensive investigative effort by high-ranking Ministry Aurors has concluded that no Aurors at Azkaban were responsible for the theft of any items from any visiting family members. The Ministry is sorry for their loss, but cannot accept responsibility for it.
"For their role in accepting bribes from the families of Azkaban prisoners, we are terminating the employ of Aurors Agarn and Rourke at the Ministry, effective immediately."
"Sounds like a cover-up," Ron decided, looking at Harry as Hermione stopped reading. "I'm surprised they didn't deny the bribery charges, too."
"Just politics as usual," Ernie Macmillan, standing behind Ron near the Hufflepuff table, said pompously. "They admit just enough to seem to be taking responsibility so they can deny the bigger problems."
"I heard a rumor about it," Dean Thomas said, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "One of the Ravenclaws heard some Slytherins talking about Draco Malfoy – they said he was the one who had his mother's purse stolen late last year, and it was a Ever-Filling Purse!"
There were some gasps around the table. "They had an Ever-Filling Purse?" Lavender Brown said, her eyes wide. "I hear you have to be dead rich to get one of those."
"Right," Dean agreed. "Anyway, Meg – eh, the Ravenclaw, said the Slytherins were whispering that the Malfoy's vault had lost a lot of gold – several thousand Galleons, at least."
There were more gasps and low whistles along the Gryffindor table. Weirdly, Harry felt guilty about it – after all, he'd thrown the purse down on Agarn's desk after he'd passed them the bribe gold. But, he remembered as well, he hadn't stolen the purse. Well, technically, he had, when he took Malfoy's robe. But that was only incidental to him leaving it at Azkaban and whoever nicked it from there. Whoever had done that was responsible, whether it was the two Aurors whom he'd bribed, or somebody else.
There was only one thing left to trouble Harry; it was something he needed to know before he could trust Jon again: How had Snape learned about the Helm of Gryffindor? Had it been from Crabbe? If that was so, why wouldn't Snape simply admit it? After all, the Crabbe family had been the original owners at one time. Or, had Snape gotten the information somehow from Ron or Hermione, without their knowledge?
Or, as he suspected, had Jon told Snape, for his own purposes? Until he learned that, he couldn't afford to trust Jon again, no matter how helpful he might otherwise turn out to be.