Chapter Two
Know as the Dark
"Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."
—Sun Tzu, "The Art of War"
It was raining just as hard in Devon as it was in Surrey. The Portkey brought them to the back garden of the Burrow, and Harry, landing hard, stumbled into the mud as Hedwig batted her wings against the bars of her cage, hooting indignantly. Ron grunted and extricated his foot from a muddy gnome hole; two gnomes, who had been grubbing in the mud for worms, shook their tiny fists at him.
"Couldn't have landed us harder, could you?" Ron shot at Mad-Eye, who ignored him. Shivering, Harry raised his foot, allowing the rainfall to rinse away some of the mud.
"Oh, you're here!" someone cried from the house: Molly Weasley, waving them over to the back door. Eager to get out of the rain, the small party quickly splashed their way through mud and wet grass to the door.
"Afternoon, Molly," Mad-Eye said, cleaning mud from his boot and peg leg with a wave of his wand.
Molly pulled Ron into a hug. "I'm so relieved you got here safely." She released Ron, but before pulling Harry and Hermione into similar embraces, she called over her shoulder to her son, "Scourgify your shoes before going in!"
Once she released Harry and Hermione, she said quickly, "Come on in before you catch cold."
Harry quickly pulled off his muddy shoes and left them on the porch before going inside. A clap of thunder rattled the windows, but Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the warmth of the Burrow swept over him. As Ron and Harry peeled off their wet jackets, Molly quickly ushered the four of them into the kitchen, where, they found, she had hot chocolate waiting for them.
"Cheers, Mum," Ron said as Molly served him. He then looked at the window, opaque with mist, as another clap of thunder echoed outside. "It's June," he complained. "Why is it so cold?"
"It's raining," Molly said bracingly.
"But it's been cold all week," Ron pointed out.
"Both the Prophet and the Muggle papers are only saying that there's a strange cold front all over the British Isles," Hermione said. But she grimaced as she spoke.
"Dementors?" Harry asked, worried.
"No." Mad-Eye gulped down some hot chocolate. "The Dementors are multiplying, but not enough for it to be this cold. It's probably just weather."
"It happens," Molly said, but she spoke somewhat forcefully.
Harry looked at her but made no reply. She clearly wasn't very happy with the direction of the conversation, and he spotted her eyeing the family clock, where all the hands remained pointing at "Mortal Peril". Hermione noticed this too, and looking to change the subject, asked Mad-Eye, "So where exactly are Harry's relatives going? I heard Kingsley say something about Canada."
"Mr Dursley is about to become CEO to a new drill firm in a nice, quiet corner of Saskatchewan." Mad-Eye smirked. "The charming town of Moose Jaw, to be precise."
"Bet Uncle Vernon loved that," Harry said gleefully. "He's always hated the idea of going anywhere abroad. How'd you arrange this?"
"Some well-placed memory charms and good contacts in the North American Magical Confederation." Mad-Eye looked at his pocket watch, drained the rest of his hot chocolate, and stood. "I ought to get back to headquarters. I'll see you tomorrow, Molly."
As Mad-Eye left the house, Harry wiped some of the mist from the window and watched as the ex-Auror limped his way down a brick walkway to the gate at the edge of the property. If what Ginny told him was accurate, Harry assumed that to be the border of the anti-Apparation barriers the Order had erected; and sure enough, the moment Moody stepped through the gate, he pivoted on the spot and vanished, the crack of Disapparation obscured by the thunder and rainfall. Harry then looked back around. Molly, busying herself with the pot of beans she was preparing, had not seen Harry watching Moody.
"So what's happening tomorrow?" asked Ron.
"They're putting up a new Fidelius Charm at Grimmauld Place," his mother answered.
Harry carefully avoided looking at Ron or Hermione, knowing that this likely meant his own impending removal to the Order's headquarters. But before Molly said anything further, if she intended to, there was a loud tap at the window, and the four of them saw an owl there, rapping its beak on the glass frantically. Molly quickly let in the owl, which dropped a letter onto the table and fluttered to a shelf near the cooker, shaking water from its feathers, then fluffing itself up to get warm. Molly picked up the letter and cast a drying spell on it, followed by a second spell clearing up the smudged ink.
Just then, light footsteps met their ears and the four of them looked up just as Ginny appeared at the kitchen door. Harry swallowed. Their eyes instantly met, but before either of them could say or do anything, Molly held up the letter and said, "There you are. This is for you. I expect it's your O.W.L. results."
Ginny took the envelope and sat down between Harry and Hermione. "Hi, Harry," she said cheerfully.
"Erm, hi," he replied feebly.
She didn't look remotely bothered by his hesitant greeting, instead looking between him and Ron and Hermione. "Glad you're all back. It's been right dull around here. Mostly just chores and preparations for Bill's wedding."
As she spoke, a ginger cat ran into the kitchen and leapt onto Hermione's lap. "Hi, Crookshanks," she crooned, scratching the cat behind the ears. "Did you miss me?" As the cat mewed in response, Hermione looked up at Ginny. "Thanks for looking after him."
"No problem," Ginny said. "No trouble from the Muggles, I take it?"
"The Dursleys are gits," Ron growled. "Dunno how Harry's put up with them all these years."
Harry stilled, not wanting Ron to say anything more, but thankfully he neither did so, nor did Ginny press him to. As he listened to her chat with her brother and Hermione, however, Harry found himself somewhat impressed at her ability to pretend that nothing had happened between them before or after Dumbledore's funeral. At least she'd renew normal friendship with them, and with him, though the thought was wrenching to him.
"So what are your exam results?" asked Molly.
Ginny opened the letter and glanced over them without the smallest look of concern. "An 'O' in Defence and Charms. 'Es' in Transfiguration, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies, and 'As' in Astronomy and History of Magic."
"So that's… eight in total," Ron quickly counted, looking impressed. "Better than Harry and I did."
Unexpectedly, yet not so unexpectedly, Molly cried, "Eight! That's amazing, Ginny! Most students don't get that many. Your professors should be proud of you. You'll do brilliantly on the N.E.W.T.s, I know it! You'll have to choose carefully what courses to take this year, though, you don't want to be overloaded…"
Harry and Ginny glanced at each other as they listened to Molly enthuse about the exam results, speaking as though any of them would be returning to Hogwarts in September. Harry looked at Ginny questioningly, but she gave him a warning look and grinned at her mother, pretending to be pleased. Harry looked between mother and daughter, observing the deception between both. When Molly finally left the room, determining to inform Arthur of the wonderful news, she left an awkward silence as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all looked at each other in varying degrees of bewilderment and frustration.
"I take it we're not supposed to know about Hogwarts closing yet?" Harry asked Ginny, who shook her head.
"Why would they keep that secret from us?" asked Hermione indignantly. "It's not like they could really hideit."
"Well, the Ministry hasn't announced it yet," Ginny said, "so probably no one's supposed to know that right now. Never stopped the Order or us before, though."
"I bet she's just trying to keep life as normal as possible," Ron said, frowning after his mother. "Probably for her own feelings more than for ours."
"Like much of the Order's actions these days," Ginny muttered. Only Harry heard her, and he gave her a curious look, but they could hear Molly's footsteps approaching, and Ginny shook her head, wordlessly telling Harry that they'd discuss it later.
"Dumbledore's phoenix delivered it?" Cerdik Gadlak asked incredulously, staring at the opened letter.
"Yes," replied Benedict Grobschmied. "So we can be sure it was from him. It makes it clear that he already knew."
Scanning through the letter a second time, Gadlak noted, "And it's dated to the day before his death." He looked back at Grobschmied with mild amazement. "How did you get in contact with him?"
Grobschmied smiled sheepishly. "I slipped a note into his pocket during his last visit."
"When was this?" asked Gadlak.
"About a week before he penned this reply." Grobschmied took back the letter, looked it over quickly, then lay it on Gadlak's desk. "But the way he wrote it… it's almost as though he knew he was going to die."
Gadlak merely shrugged. "He was quite old, even by wizard standards," he reminded him. "At a hundred and fifty, or whatever he was, I suspect fate starts flipping coins each year one continues living. Perhaps he was dying already."
"Perhaps." Grobschmied leaned forward, his palms on the desk. "But maybe that's exactly the point. I can't imagine Voldemort's most formidable enemy allowing the secret to die with him."
"So he says." Gadlak picked the letter back up and looked it over a third time. "Have you told anyone else?"
"About Dumbledore's letter, or about my past?"
"The latter, of course." Gadlak leaned back. "You were out of breath when you got here. Assuming that means you ran straight here after receiving your letter, then unless you told everyone between my Floo entryway and my office, I must be the first person you have told. No, I meant about your little escapade across Europe with your brother forty years ago, what you witnessed there, and what you eventually discovered. I recall Alphard Black knew bits and pieces, but as he's been dead for several years, I don't suppose he counts."
Grobschmied hesitated, and then said, "Rok knows most of it."
Gadlak slowly nodded. "Naturally he'd be interested. He has, after all, suffered the same losses as you." He thought carefully for a moment. "Why don't you bring him up here? If he already knows the finer points, he ought to take part in this discussion."
The gnome squealed as it flew over the hedge and landed in the muddy puddles on the other side with a splatter. Harry paused for a moment to catch his breath as another gnome, thrown by Ginny, flew over his head and landed a few feet further from his. Once the rain let up, Mrs. Weasley had looked out the kitchen window and, observing several gnomes grubbing through muddy puddles in search of snails and other such foods, chased Harry, Ron, and Ginny outside to clear them out, while keeping Hermione behind to get her stuff and Harry's stuff settled upstairs. It was freezing in the garden, even after the rain had let up, but the effort of chasing down gnomes, spinning them, and throwing them over the hedge as hard as they could, had helped counter the icy humidity.
He looked down for another, and seeing none in reach (Ron grabbed two), he looked back up and spotted Hestia Jones in the distance, slowly moving around the perimeter of the Burrow with her wand out. He then looked over at Ginny, who had chased down another gnome. Like Harry, she was covered with mud, her hands in particular, and her cheeks were a little pink, either from cold or from exertion.
"Just how strong are these wards they're putting up?" he asked Ginny.
She waited to answer until she had thrown the gnome out of the garden, and, once she heard the satisfying squelch of the gnome landing in a particularly muddy patch, she wiped her hands on her jeans and looked at Harry.
"I'm not sure, really," she said. "I think that they're trying to make the Burrow as secure as Grimmauld Place. The only difference is that they can't put up a Fidelius Charm here."
No, Harry supposed not; a Fidelius Charm would make it extremely difficult for Arthur's colleagues at the Ministry to get in touch with him while out of the office, and it probably would make Scrimgeour and his supporters suspicious. Looking back at Hestia, who was now at the gate, peering outwards, Harry surmised, "So until they move me to Grimmauld Place, our security completely depends on the skills of the Order."
Ginny didn't respond immediately, but that may have been because she was scanning the ground for more gnomes. Seeing none, she said, "Bill says the new wards are very strong. But the fact that we can't put up a Fidelius Charm is making Mum really nervous. Fair warning, since Dumbledore died she's been unwilling to let any of us out of her sight." She then shot Ron a meaningful look, reminding them of Molly's angry reaction when he and Hermione decided to accompany Harry to the Dursleys'. "Now that you're back, you can bet that she'll be watching you like a hawk."
Ron scowled. "She can't keep trying to shield us like this. We're not children anymore!"
"I wish it were as simple as that," Ginny muttered. "But… I don't know. I think it's also the Order. They've been really paranoid lately."
She sounded uneasy. Harry and Ron looked at her, expecting more, but Ginny was silent for a few minutes, seemingly gathering her thoughts. "They haven't taken Dumbledore's death or Snape's betrayal well at all," she finally said. "They try to hide it, but it's plain to anyone who watches them. They don't know what to do." Looking at Harry, she added, "I think they're putting so much effort into hiding you because it makes them feel like they're doing something useful. Like they're in control of the situation. And they really need to feel like that right now."
She fell silent, but she looked worried. This left Harry to wonder, as he was sure she wondered, just how much the Order wasn't telling them. If the danger was far greater than they were permitted to know at present, it certainly would explain the Order's paranoia. But, Harry reflected, the loss of Dumbledore might also explain that. Still, everything in the past few days from the strange summer cold to the odd lack of overt Death Eater activity left him uneasy. He couldn't explain it, but something simply didn't feel right.
After a moment's silence, in which Ron spotted another gnome and stooped down to seize it, Ginny asked Harry in an undertone, "When are you going?"
Harry glanced at Ron, who looked at the house nervously, and quickly spun the gnome in circles, flinging it over the hedge, before he drew his wand and pointed it in the direction of the house, mumbling, "Muffliato!"
Harry glanced in that direction too, before he turned back to Ginny, speaking in a low voice even with the privacy the spell afforded. "I can't tell you what we're doing, Ginny," he reminded her. "I promised Dumbledore."
"I never asked what you're doing," she replied evenly. "I know there are things you can't tell me. But if you're going to disappear in the middle of the night in a few weeks, I'd like to be forewarned."
Harry thought about it for a minute, and relented, "At some point after I have my Apparation license."
Ginny nodded. "I thought as much. But have you thought about how you'll leave once the Order hides you in Grimmauld Place?" She glanced back at the house nervously as she spoke.
Harry, not exactly having a positive answer to give her, grimaced. "We're working on it."
"Maybe once we're there, Hermione can find a way around it, since she'll be able to actually look at these new protections," Ron suggested.
"Well, just be sneaky about it. If Mum gets the slightest idea of what you're planning, she'll have your wands sealed in her Gringotts vault in two seconds flat."
Another heavy silence fell. Harry looked at Ginny quietly, and she returned his expression. Ron looked between them, and then looked over the ground and said awkwardly, "I think we got them all. I'll go see if Hermione's finished unpacking."
As he hurried away, Harry pulled his wand out and pointed it downward. "Aguamenti."
A stream of water poured from his wand. He used this to rinse the mud from his left hand, then his right, before running some from his cupped hand over the handle of his wand, cleaning the dirt from it. Watching him, Ginny said casually, "You're still underage, you know."
"It won't matter," Harry said. "We're in a wizarding household. They won't realise it was me."
Ginny laughed. "Caught onto that, did you?"
She then leaned down and reached her muddy hands forward. As Harry cleaned her hands off too, she asked, "So, you got my letter?"
Harry nodded.
She exhaled. "I think the Death Eaters are getting more influence in the Ministry than the Order wants you to know."
"Still listening at doors?" Harry smirked.
"Of course. Only way to get real information around here," Ginny said unrepentantly. "That and Fred and George sometimes 'accidentally' let things slip to me."
Harry laughed. "At least I know I can count on you to keep me informed."
Ginny returned his grin before becoming more serious. "It doesn't sound like Death Eater sympathisers have reached any of the really important positions yet, but if confidence in Scrimgeour weakens too much, you can bet that the Death Eaters will take advantage of it."
Harry could tell that Ginny had been very impatient to explain all this to him for days, but had decided against putting it in writing. He couldn't blame her. Her first letter had contained an important warning, and she had known that Dobby wouldn't willingly betray either of them; but he nonetheless remained answerable to members of the Order and Harry couldn't blame Ginny for not risking telling him anything further, not while it could wait until she said it in person.
"So you think right now everything boils down to Scrimgeour remaining in office?" Harry asked.
"From what Fred and George said," Ginny told him.
"Do you know how bad it's got?" asked Harry urgently. "Like, are we close to losing Scrimgeour?"
Ginny shook her head. "I don't know. All I know about Scrimgeour is that he's been nagging Dad for a meeting with you a lot lately."
"Again?" groaned Harry.
"I don't know if that means Scrimgeour's desperate," Ginny said quietly. "But I doubt it's a good sign."
Harry put his wand away, and then placed his fingers on his temple, feeling a headache coming on. Looking at Ginny, he said wearily, "I don't want part in any of it. Even if I didn't have things to do, I'd be tempted to bolt just to get away from it all."
Ginny reached forward and rubbed his arm comfortingly. "I know," she said in a soothing voice. She was trying to keep her expression more neutral, but Harry could see the sadness and insecurity in her eyes, the same fears he himself felt every minute of every day.
"Harry"—
"Ginny, I"—
They both stopped, waiting for the other to finish. Then Harry nodded to her, allowing her to speak first.
"I just want you to know," she said quietly, her eyes fixed on his, "that even if we don't see each other again for months or years after this, you can always count on me. You'll always have my support. If there's anything I can do to help you succeed, I'll do whatever it takes. If you ever need me at your side, I'll be there."
She said this so earnestly, so sincerely, that Harry was stunned silent. He'd known she was on his side; he'd understood her position in the conflict with the Death Eaters, felt the same frustration and helplessness she did as the situation unfolded and worsened, and, when he gave her the opportunity to offer it, gratefully accepted and reciprocated her affection. But he'd never before truly appreciated the depth of Ginny Weasley's loyalty to him, and her making it fully manifest to him left him astonished and humbled. Unable to speak, Harry took Ginny's hand, and nodded.
She exhaled, and gripped his hand tightly, as though afraid he'd pull away. But Harry, in spite of the fact that they'd broken up only a few weeks earlier, felt no inclination to do so, and instead allowed this moment. Both of them had unshed tears in their eyes.
"Ginny!" Molly called out from some distance.
Ginny looked away for a moment, and let go of Harry's hand. But then she stepped forward, kissed his cheek, and gave him a final, stoic look before she returned to the house.
"You understand the need for absolute secrecy?" Gadlak asked in a stern, commanding voice he generally reserved for the High Council and for staff meetings.
Rok Grimrook, a much younger goblin, looking completely unfazed by his employer's tone, simply replied with equal firmness, "Yes."
"Good," Gadlak said, "because at the present time, I can't have anyone at the Council getting wind of what we're up to. Or any more of our employees. I've told my son; he seems willing, and his help will be essential if we wish to proceed inconspicuously. But for now, no one else should know anything about this."
Grimrook said nothing, but gave him an accepting nod.
"So, you've read your uncle's letter. What is your opinion of it?" Gadlak asked, nodding towards Grobschmied, who stood nearby in silence.
Grimrook looked down at the letter in his hand. "It puts a whole new light on the situation, doesn't it?" He paused in some contemplation, before he asked Gadlak, "What are your thoughts about this protégé mentioned?"
Gadlak said nothing, but he looked at Grobschmied for his opinion. The older goblin said nothing. Grimrook scratched his head, but he was frowning. This was not lost on Gadlak or Grobschmied, the former of whom asked, "Why? What are your thoughts?"
Grimrook looked at him speculatively. "Were you aware of the sealed box Dumbledore left in Gringotts' custodianship?"
"I know that there was one," Gadlak answered.
"Did they tell you its intended recipient?" A cautious, sceptical look crossed Gadlak's face, but Grimrook's expression was one of absolute certainty. "I'd say he's the one we're looking for."
"He's just a teenager," Gadlak said dismissively.
"Yes," Grobschmied said quietly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't have the information we need."
"And for a teenager he is strangely… involved in this war," Grimrook pointed out.
Gadlak looked between uncle and nephew with a raised eyebrow, but only said, "I see."
Nobody spoke. Grimrook and Grobschmied were looking at Gadlak expectantly, hoping that he would respond first. Gadlak's mouth pressed into a very thin line as he thought over the theory. Then he finally said, "Discretion will be essential."
"I have tracked people for years at a time without detection," Grobschmied reminded him. "I can manage to contact one teenager without anyone knowing it."
"Maybe, but a teenager the entire Order of the Phoenix is likely working night and day to protect?" Gadlak shot back.
Grobschmied was silent.
"You had better be absolutely certain of this," Gadlak said in a tone that brooked absolutely no argument. "Because if we are to discuss this matter with Harry Potter, or even work with him directly, we must do so beyond the influence or reach of the Ministry of Magic, or the Order."
Grobschmied's eyes narrowed. "You mean we'd have to remove him from his current sphere of protection."
Grimrook looked between them in surprise. "Separate him from the Order?"
At first, no one spoke. Grimrook looked almost alarmed, and Grobschmied's mouth was set in a thin line. Seeing their obvious discomfort, Gadlak said indignantly, "Don't be idiots. I'm not proposing an abduction. I may have a reputation for taking calculated risks, but I know the difference between that and outright stupidity, and whatever action we decide to take concerning this matter, it will have to be carefully executed. No one beyond our circle can know about any attempt to contact the boy, let alone what we suspect. It's risky enough with four of us knowing and discussing it at all. If Harry Potter knows anything of this, as this letter implies, that makes five, plus anyone else he might have confided in. Too many people for my liking, and if the Order of the Phoenix, as a whole, learns anything of the matter, then the circle of those in the know will move from risky to downright dangerous."
"They are too exposed," Grobschmied conceded, looking at his nephew. "He's right, of course. We want as few people in on this as possible."
Grimrook raised his eyebrows. "Just how many potential traitors do you two think are around you?"
"It only takes one!" Gadlak exclaimed.
Grobschmied shook his head, but nobody in the room needed to elaborate further.
"I see." Grimrook paused, thinking this over. "Well, in that case, I have an idea."
The death of Albus Dumbledore had put enormous strain on the Order of the Phoenix, but the betrayal of Severus Snape was just as serious a blow to them. Under Dumbledore's guidance, the Order had been aware of the dangers of opposing Voldemort, and proceeded with the requisite caution. Under Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, however, the Order had become as alert and almost as paranoid as the former was. His motto, "constant vigilance", suddenly became the Order's governing philosophy. They were determined to prevent such treachery from ever happening again, and became more alert to the possibility of both external and internal attack than ever before.
Renewing the Fidelius Charm in Grimmauld Place was part of this campaign. Until then, security would be tighter both there and at the Burrow than in the deepest vaults of Gringotts. Trusted Order members checked anyone coming in or out for any traces of Polyjuice Potion or other forms of magical concealment, and only a few in the Order or the Ministry of Magic were permitted within the boundaries either of Grimmauld Place or of the Burrow. As he wasn't the old Secret Keeper, Snape couldn't bring other Death Eaters into headquarters, nor could he tell them its rough location. Mad-Eye Moody had no reason to fear that; but the old Fidelius Charm would not prevent Snape from entering Grimmauld Place himself. They therefore had to install a new Secret Keeper and entrust him with the knowledge that presently remained confined within the circle that already knew it; doing so would void the old spell, erasing the location of the Order's headquarters from Snape's memory, while leaving the new Secret Keeper free to impart that information to anyone he or she could trust with it.
When he had inherited the Black family's house, Harry, having no particular love for the place, had given the Order permission to freely use the premises as they saw fit, including making any improvements they wished, both to strengthen its security, and to increase its usability as headquarters and as a safehouse for the Order; Bill had therefore added a few new enchantments learned from his career as a curse-breaker, and to maximise the likelihood of someone being within hearing range, should anyone in the Order need to fire-call Grimmauld Place for any reason, the Order had also moved the house's Floo connection to the fireplace in the sitting room, rather than the one in the basement kitchen.
Harry was told all this at the breakfast table the morning after his arrival at the Burrow, but as Ginny had already told him that the Order intended to renew the Fidelius Charm and subsequently remove him to Grimmauld Place on a more permanent basis, the details of the Fidelius Charm and the adjustment of the Floo connection were the only new information he got. Unsurprisingly, Arthur Weasley was either forbidden to tell him the name of the new Secret Keeper, or he didn't know himself. Yet in this flow of non-news, Harry did receive a surprise.
"Mad-Eye wants me there?' he repeated.
Arthur shrugged. "It is legally yourhouse. The Order technically is still there with yourpermission. You gave us leave to continue using Grimmauld Place for headquarters, and to make improvements where needed, but as the actual legal owner of the property, you ought to be there for something as fundamental as this."
A sudden thought struck Harry, and alarmed, he asked, "They don't want me to be Secret Keeper, do they?" Though he had no intention of betraying the Order to anyone, he could hardly function in such a role if he was out hunting Horcruxes for months or even years at a time.
"Of course not," Arthur reassured him, looking amused. "The new Secret Keeper will be a member of the Order, which you are not. You're just going to act as a witness. It's a part of the process."
"Witness?"
"Witnesses seal the bond between the Secret Keeper and the secret," Arthur explained, "and also prevent any confusion about the identity of the Secret Keeper."
Harry scowled. "A lot of good that did my parents," he said bitterly. He wondered who had been witness to that Fidelius Charm; his parents and Sirius, probably; but all were dead and since nobody else knew about the second charm… Harry closed his eyes, quelling his anger at the mistake that led to his parents' deaths and Sirius's unjust imprisonment. He tried to put aside his misgivings, assuring himself that it would be different this time.
"What's the process?" asked Hermione, breaking the awkward silence that had filled the kitchen. "I understand that it's a complicated spell."
"You heard right." Arthur sounded relieved at the slight shift in topic. "But I'm afraid I don't know exactly how it goes, except that there are three different incantations. But you'll see it for yourself today. Alastor invited you, Ron, and Ginny to witness the spell as well."
"What?" Molly shrieked.
Harry looked at her in some surprise, which Ron, Hermione, and Ginny shared, but their shock looked tempered with their pleasure at being included.
Arthur, pretending there had been no interruption, added, "And speaking of which, we ought to be there in about half an hour."
With that, he stood and exited the kitchen. Molly forcefully jabbed her wand in the direction of the frying pan from which she had just served eggs, and hissed, "Scourgify!" before following her husband out the kitchen door, looking furious.
"Apparently involving us in Order matters at all is totally off-limits," Ginny wryly observed.
"This is stupid," Ron grumbled. "Hermione and I are old enough to join the Order, and Harry almost is."
Before long, Arthur returned to the kitchen; Molly did not follow, but they could hear her ranting angrily in another room. "You lot had better get ready," he told them wearily. Harry looked at Ron in worry, but Ron merely shook his head.
Looking back at Arthur, Harry asked, "Are you moving me to Grimmauld Place today, now that the new Fidelius is going up?"
Arthur started. "How did you…?" Then he stopped, shook his head, and said, "No, not today. Mad-Eye wants to test the wards around Grimmauld Place for a couple of days to make sure everything's secure. Installing a spell as complicated as the Fidelius can have unexpected effects on other wards. Also, as I understand it, Andromeda Tonks has taken it upon herself to redo the entire house, so much of it isn't quite habitable right now. Until all that's taken care of, you'll stay here."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. While he understood Grimmauld Place to be more secure, he did not want to leave the Burrow so soon; although he supposed that still staying at the Burrow by the time he could depart on his mission might be too much to hope for.
"Redo the house?" asked Hermione curiously. "In what way?"
"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed, seeing the sitting room.
Harry's jaw too had dropped when he stepped out of the fireplace and saw the significant change to the décor of 12 Grimmauld Place. Where previously the room had been decorated with drab, dark colours, unpleasant portraits, and an assortment of hideous-looking instruments in the china cabinet, the newly redecorated room was now a deep vermilion colour, and the furniture had been replaced with soft armchairs and sofas in warm, earthy colours of greens and yellows. Most of the smaller decorations had been removed, though a more cheerful variety had yet to replace them. The room was now brightly lit where it had before been dim. The only thing that remained from Walburga Black's Grimmauld Place was the Black family tapestry, which likely remained a permanent feature.
Harry hadn't had much time to admire the changes further, however, before Kingsley and Hestia Jones descended upon them, their wands out in a flash, and Hestia's pointed between his eyes.
"Name, wand properties, and the name of your uncle's new company?" Hestia demanded of Harry.
Startled, Harry could only stare.
"Answer the question," she snapped.
As Kingsley similarly (though in a calmer tone of voice) questioned Ron and the others, Harry wracked his brain, trying to remember the name of the new drilling firm the Order had transferred Vernon to, but to his immense relief, at that moment Tonks, accompanied by another woman Harry didn't recognise, stepped into the room and said, "Cast your Patronus, Harry. The Ministry won't detect it here."
Relieved, Harry drew his wand, looked at Ginny, and cried, "Expecto Patronum!"
The silvery stag burst from his wand, cantered its way around the room, and dissipated, but it was enough. Satisfied, Hestia put her wand away. Tonks then stepped around her and steered Harry further into the room. "Wotcher. Glad to come to your rescue. And for the record, it was Columbia Drilling."
"Er, got it," Harry said sheepishly. "Thanks." Looking around the room, he added, "And nicely done here."
"Mum's doing, not mine," Tonks said cheerfully, gesturing to her companion, who stepped forward and stretched a hand out to Harry.
"Andromeda Tonks," she introduced herself. "Pleased to meet you at last, Mr Potter."
Harry shook her hand. "Thanks, it's nice to meet you too."
As Kingsley finished questioning Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, and Tonks introduced them to her mother, Harry observed Andromeda curiously. Having heard about her only a couple of times before, Harry hadn't really known what to expect from Tonks's mum; he knew she was Sirius's favourite cousin, and had the misfortune of being sister to both Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange; looking at her, Harry could see that she shared the latter's dark hair colour and the former's thin face and high cheek bones, but the sisterly resemblance stopped there, lessened, perhaps, by her warm expression and her grey skirt and light-blue blouse, tastefully chosen but obviously of Muggle manufacture.
"I'm glad you like what little I've done so far," Andromeda said to him. "And thanks for allowing it, since it's your house, really. But don't go admiring it all just yet. The rest of the place still needs a lot of work."
"Still, it looks amazing," Hermione said. "Red with wood trim is a definite improvement."
"Indeed." Harry saw a sad expression cross Andromeda's face momentarily, but quickly replaced with an almost savage look of satisfaction as she looked around; he wasn't sure how much time she'd spent here as a child, but he imagined, judging from all he'd heard about the Blacks from Sirius, that it wasn't exactly a happy experience. Perhaps she found closure in finishing Sirius's work on the house, in tearing down what was left of the Blacks' legacy.
Her daughter grinned. "Dobby's been of help too. They even managed to get rid of that portrait of Sirius's mum."
"Seriously?" asked a delighted Ron.
"It was a special moment," Andromeda commented dryly.
"How'd you manage it?" asked Harry eagerly. The realisation that he wouldn't have to put up with the miserable old bat's shrieking during his sojourn here made the prospect considerably more bearable.
"Elf magic," Tonks explained. "That's about all I know, though for some reason even he's having trouble getting rid of that ruddy tapestry."
At this, Ginny sniggered loudly, and the others looked at her. Pointing at the tapestry, she said, "Maybe you won't have to. Looks like Fred and George have been improving it."
The others moved closer to see what she was talking about. At first Harry couldn't see anything different about the tapestry. Then he noticed that the heading was different:
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Inbreeding:
Toujours fou
Harry grinned, and Ron asked, "What's 'toujours fou'?"
"'Always cracked,'" Tonks replied, prompting another laugh from the others.
"Sirius would have loved this," Harry said wistfully.
Both Tonks women nodded in agreement. Distantly they heard the doorbell ring, and then Andromeda suggested that everyone seat themselves, before leaving the room to answer the door. Harry, Ron, and Ginny claimed the sofa, while Hermione, still looking around the room in admiration, remained standing. Tonks took an armchair near Harry's end of the sofa.
"Did the Dursleys get to Canada all right?" he asked her.
Tonks nodded, grimacing. "They weren't as bad as they could have been. Mad-Eye's threat did the trick. I'd intended to drop a hint about Remus being a werewolf to really scare them, but once they were faced with the prospect of being turned into cowpats, I didn't really have the heart to do it. They were totally quiet the whole way there. Kind of took the fun out of it."
Harry lowered his gaze, slightly mortified. "I'm sorry you had to deal with them."
Tonks waved this aside. "Never mind. We've all got embarrassing relatives." She paused, glanced at the tapestry, and snorted. "Bit of an understatement in my case. Anyway, they're on their way to Saskatchewan, probably already there. You won't have to deal with them again."
Harry managed a small smile. It felt very strange that his childhood, the hellish years before the arrival of his Hogwarts letter, was a chapter of his life that had suddenly, abruptly closed. The Dursleys were out of his life, probably forever. It didn't quite seem real.
Seeing Harry's discomfort, Hermione changed the subject. "So what else have you been up to?" she asked Tonks.
"This and that. I'm on near-constant call at the Auror office these days," Tonks answered. "At least I get to see Remus more often now."
"Isn't he still on that mission infiltrating the werewolves?" asked Harry, confused. "The Order hardly ever saw him last year because of that."
"No." Tonks grimaced. "Actually, we had to abort that mission."
"Why?"
"Because of what happened at Hogwarts last month. It's extremely likely that Greyback caught sight of Remus fighting on Dumbledore's side, and even if he didn't, by now Snape will have told You-Know-Who and Greyback all about him and his true loyalties." Tonks scowled at this last bit, then shrugged and added, "Not that there was much information to get from the other werewolves. The Death Eaters don't seem to share much with them."
Hearing this, Ginny put in, "I don't imagine the Death Eaters treat werewolves much better than they do house-elves."
"No. From what I've heard, Death Eaters only tolerate them because they make useful weapons, but otherwise…." Tonks shook her head sadly. "I'd hope it's a bit of a wakeup call. There are so many of them who were absolutely convinced they'd be treated better under a Death Eater-run world. But unfortunately, it's hard to back out once they're in. You-Know-Who will kill defectors if Greyback doesn't get them first. Least of our concerns right now, though."
"Really? Why?" asked Harry.
Tonks looked momentarily alarmed, and Harry realised that she'd said more than she intended to. But before he could question her further, there was a flash of green flame in the fireplace, and Molly walked in. Tonks looked relieved at her appearance.
"Never mind," she said. "Nothing you need to be concerned with."
Harry stared at her intently, but Tonks relaxed, knowing full well that they would not grill her for details with Molly Weasley in hearing range. Ginny too recognised that they'd get nothing more from her, and asked, "So who's gonna be the new Secret Keeper?"
"Aberforth Dumbledore."
"Professor Dumbledore's brother?" asked Hermione in surprise.
"Yep," Tonks said. "You've met him, I think…" She then faltered, and amended, "I don't know. Have you?"
"I have," Ginny said, causing Harry, Ron, and Hermione to look at her in surprise. Looking at them, she clarified, "Recently, while you were at Privet Drive. He's an odd bloke. Had a lot to say about the way secret organisations like the Order have to work to stay secret."
Tonks looked surprised. "When was this?"
"The day I got back from Hogwarts," Ginny answered, and this caused Harry to look at her with some curiosity. Was that when she wrote that letter? But Ginny, seeing his scrutiny, shook her head with a warning look, that clearly said, I'll explain later.
Tonks too frowned at Ginny's words. As more Order members shuffled into the room, however, she looked back at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "But then again, I suppose you'll have met him too, at the Hog's Head." When they looked at her in confusion, she added, "He's the bartender."
She grinned at their surprise. Harry, recovering first, speculated, "Explains why Dumbledore always seemed to know what was going on at the Hog's Head."
Tonks nodded. "It wasn't something that was even clear to some of us in the Order until recently. Apparently he's been using the curmudgeonly bartender and innkeeper act as a cover for decades. He also used to give Albus useful hearsay he picked up there. But having spent more time with him lately, I wouldn't be surprised if he does more for the Order than that. He's been in the Order longer than anyone, except probably Elphias Doge."
At that moment, Mad-Eye entered the room with the man himself close behind. Harry watched Aberforth curiously, reflecting that the family resemblance wasn't obvious, except perhaps his eyes. Aberforth had a rougher appearance than his brother; his hair and beard wasn't as long or as neatly trimmed, and his robes were patchy, dirtier, and drabber than Professor Dumbledore's generally had been. He wasn't much to look at, at first glance, but as Harry watched him talking to Mad-Eye, he saw that Aberforth carried himself in the same way his brother had, with an aura of experience that the others could only respect and defer to.
The last of the Order to arrive were Remus, Fred, and George (who gave Harry mock military salutes). Once Andromeda shut the door behind them, Mad-Eye looked around at the others closely, and then cleared his throat loudly, getting the room's attention.
"I think that's everyone," he announced. "Let's get started. Everyone stand up and get in a circle around me and Abe." When all the room's occupants did as requested, he added, "All you have to do is watch. Witnessing this will cement the magical bind as I cast it. The more witnesses, the better. That's the first step."
He drew his wand and pointed it up in the air, moving it slowly in a circular motion. "Convenemus." He uttered.
A beam of silvery light burst from Mad-Eye's wand and struck the ceiling, from which it splintered, and encircled the entire group in a cage of light. Harry shivered a little as he felt the pulse of magical energy moving through the cage. The light was only visible for a second before it suddenly vanished, but Harry could still feel the energy emanating around him. Mad-Eye then pointed his wand at Aberforth, and slowly chanted, "Tibi mandamus Arcanum nostrum. Aberforth Dumbledore, es custodem arcani."
He repeated this incantation three times. The energy seemed to strengthen each time he spoke the words, and after Mad-Eye completed the third recitation, he said loudly and clearly, "I place the secret in your custodianship, Aberforth Dumbledore: The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix will be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, in Islington, London, property of Harry James Potter." He then pointed his wand upward again, and called out, loudly and clearly, "Fidelius."
The cage of light immediately reappeared, flashing a fiery red, and then, just as suddenly, it dissipated. Mad-Eye lowered his wand. Kingsley, Tonks, and Remus Lupin stepped out of the circle, and Harry realised they must have finished.
"That was quicker than I expected," he said as he joined Remus at the sideboard opposite the fireplace ten minutes later. Some of the Order had already left the premises, particularly Ministry employees or Aurors (though Tonks remained), but those who weren't required at work at that moment lingered afterwards, Weasleys and Harry concluded. It turned out that Andromeda loved playing hostess, and quickly set herself and Dobby to the task of serving tea and biscuits to the remainders.
"Difficult to cast, though," Remus remarked, pouring a cup with the refilling teapot. He offered this to Harry, who accepted it with a mumbled thanks, and then poured himself one.
"So," Harry said slowly, looking around the room, "I'm to be moved here when Mrs. Tonks says so?"
"More like when Mad-Eye says so. You know him. He's got to make sure that the wards are functioning properly, especially since the Fidelius complicates everything. I've never seen him happier."
Harry grinned in amusement. Then, in a serious voice, he asked, "What about you? Tonks said you had to abort your assignment with the werewolves." At Remus's nod, he added, "I'm sorry."
"I can't say that I am," Remus admitted. "Mingling with my kind was never a pleasant experience. And the Order can always find another use for me. Mostly I've been acting in an advisory capacity, but something new will come along. It always does."
He then caught sight of something over Harry's shoulder, and nudged him. "We've got company."
It was the twins. Fred clapped Harry's shoulder enough for him, caught off guard, to stumble and almost spill his tea. "Harry, my man!" he exclaimed happily. "Glad to see you're here!"
"Hello," Harry said, somewhat mistrustful at the twins' overly jovial manner. "What's up?"
"You look suspicious," Fred remarked. "Are we suspicious? I'm hurt, Harry! Don't you trust us?"
"Shut it. I haven't forgotten you turning Neville into a giant canary." Harry grinned. "How's the shop?"
"It's going swimmingly," George answered. "Actually, that's what we wanted to talk to you about."
Harry looked at them questioningly. Fred swelled proudly. "Don't know if you heard, but apparently humour is just what the Healer ordered. We now run the most prosperous business in Diagon Alley. Prosperous enough that last week we were finally able to completely pay off the loans we took out from Gringotts for our premises."
"And we owe it all to this bespectacled git here," George told Remus. Looking back at Harry, he held up a piece of paper. "Your donation was a major reason Gringotts staff was confident enough to loan us the remaining money we needed. And so we want to give a bit back."
He handed the paper, what looked like a form, to Harry, who began to read through it, frowning. As he did, he barely registered a high-pitched voice say, "Would Masters Wheezy and Harry Potter like some biscuits?"
"Cheers, Dobby," George answered.
When the elf nudged Harry's knee, he glanced down and accepted a biscuit with a distracted, "Thanks, Dobby," before returning to the form. Then he looked back at the twins. "No."
"Twenty percent," Fred argued. "Come on, it's a decent income."
"No," Harry said firmly. "It's your shop."
Fred was not going to back down so easily, however. "You mentioned Canary Creams just now?" he said in a threatening voice. "Sign it, or you'll never have a safe meal again."
Harry swallowed nervously, having no doubt that the twins would make good on this threat.
"Fine," he relented, "but not twenty. Five."
"Fifteen," George countered.
"Ten," Harry insisted. "No more than that."
Fred shrugged. "Never thought I'd be haggling with someone insisting on smaller dividends."
But Harry knew he'd won. Fred pointed his wand at the form, and the "20%" on the form turned to "10%". He then handed Harry a quill, and Harry put the form on the pier table and signed it. Fred quickly snatched the form and the quill back before Harry could change his mind. "I'll drop this off at Gringotts tomorrow," he said.
"Fine," Harry sighed. "No Canary Creams, then?"
George shot him an evil grin. "Your meals are safe. For now. After all, you dated our little sister. We can't leave you with complete immunity."
And with that, he and Fred moved away. Remus looked back at Harry. "You invested in their shop?"
"Ages ago," Harry answered. "I gave them my Triwizard winnings. At the time I didn't think of it as an investment… I just didn't want the gold."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "That is generous. But then again, I suppose you already had more than enough gold to go 'round, even without the dividends. You wouldn't have found it much of a loss."
Harry frowned at this remark. He had a small fortune in Gringotts, although a great deal of it had been spent on Hogwarts. But something about Remus's remark made it sound like like he was a lot wealthier than he actually was. Before he could ask anything further, however, a loud crash made everyone jump. Mad-Eye jumped and whirled around, brandishing his wand. But it quickly became clear that Tonks had knocked over a small end table with a vase of daisies. Quickly Remus dashed over to help her right the table, and he cleared up the flowers and vase with a wave of his wand. As Harry watched, Tonks playfully gave Remus a small shove, but the look she gave him was a glowing one. Remus returned her smile, and returned to Harry.
"How's it going with Tonks?" Harry asked. "I heard you're together now."
"I owe Molly for knocking sense into me." Remus spoke calmly, but Harry had seen the way his eyes lit up as he looked at Tonks. "There was that, and the fact that if I kept up my misguided nobility streak, she and Tonks probably would have hexed me into next Christmas."
At this, Harry shifted uncomfortably, which didn't go unobserved. Remus gave Harry a sidelong glance, and remarked, "I hear you yourself had your own fair share of romance recently."
Harry looked away, and awkwardly mumbled, "Ginny and I aren't going out anymore."
Remus nodded thoughtfully. "Not unlike myself last year, though I think your reasoning is slightly better than mine." He looked over at Ginny, who was at the other end of the room, talking to Hermione and Tonks. "But Harry," he said in a serious voice, "don't distance yourself from her, even if you don't feel you can openly date her at present. At some point, you may need her."
Harry stared at him, but Remus merely smiled enigmatically and moved across the room to join Tonks's conversation. Harry watched them for some time, torn between wistfully thinking of all that had occurred between him and Ginny, and making sense of Remus's words. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he started when a gnarled hand rested on his shoulder.
"Potter," Aberforth Dumbledore greeted quietly. "I believe we've met in Hogsmeade, but we've never been actually introduced."
Harry shook Aberforth's offered hand. "Pleased to properly meet you."
"I'm glad you're here," Aberforth told him quietly. "You probably would have been anyway, but Alastor invited you and your friends here specifically at my request."
Harry frowned. "I get that they need me here, since it's my house, but why the others? We're not in the Order."
Aberforth seemed pleased with Harry's question. He glanced around the room, and then leaned closer and said in an undertone, "I knew my brother better than anyone, Potter. Whatever he's got you doing, do it quickly."
At first, Harry was dumbstruck, stunned at Aberforth's directness, and curious about how much he actually knew. But finding his tongue, he stammered "Did he tell you"—
"As I told your girlfriend recently," Aberforth interrupted, "Albus did not just operate within the Order. They may not understand it, but I know how he worked. He played his cards close, and kept the most dangerous secrets from reaching anyone's ears, except when it was vital that they know." He then quieted his voice even further, so that Harry had to strain his ears to hear: "I don't know what you're up to, Potter, but I strongly suggest you do the same."
Harry opened his mouth, but unable to think of anything to say, simply nodded. Aberforth returned the nod and then promptly quitted the room, but Harry watched him go, wondering what Albus must have told Aberforth, and what role one brother would play in the absence of the other.
"No! No, please!"
"Begging for mercy? You shall have none. You are too weak to deserve to live."
She stood in the corridor, following the boy with mousy hair. A strange, almost serpentine utterance escaped her lips, and the boy turned around. He was carrying a camera and a bunch of grapes.
"Ginny?" he asked uncertainly, staring at the her pale face and steely eyes. She made no response, except for one last hissing utterance, and something huge and reptilian stirred from the shadows, just as the boy raised his camera. There was a brief flash of yellow, and the boy fell, his face frozen in shock, stiff as a board. In her head, Tom laughed mercilessly.
"I trusted you!" Ginny cried.
"Then you are stupid and weak, nothing more thana silly little girl who foolishly gave me her soul!"
Ginny gasped and sat up abruptly, frantically looking around in the darkness for the pale, sneering face of Tom Riddle, but a light snore nearby brought her back to reality. The room seemed very dark initially, but as she caught her breath, she was better able to see around her room, which was dimly lit by the half-moon outside. Hermione slept on a mattress on the floor nearby, undisturbed by Ginny's night-time terrors. She was relieved to see this. In the past few summers she had occasionally woken Hermione up after crying out at night, but had never explained them. Though always willing to give comfort where needed, Hermione had never pressed her on the matter, for which Ginny was grateful. She felt as though she had no right to confide in her. Not when Hermione had come so close to death because of her.
She wiped some of the cold sweat from her brow, wishing her hands would stop shaking. Once she caught her breath, she slid out of bed, afraid to return to sleep. There was a time, between her third and fourth years at school, when she would sometimes go weeks without the nightly visions of the Chamber of Secrets, but after Dumbledore had died, she began experiencing them almost every night. Still trembling slightly, Ginny pulled on a jumper and put some socks on, slipped past Hermione, and wandered out, down the hall, and into the bathroom, where she turned on the sink and splashed cold water onto her face, washing away the sweat and tears. She avoided looking into the mirror as she did, because it was at these times that she felt the worst of her self-loathing.
When she finished drying her face, Ginny again stepped into the hall, but instead of returning to her room, she quietly made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, feeling a strong need for some water. As she always did, she tried to force the images from her mind as she filled the glass; at least her hands had stopped trembling.
"Ginny?"
She almost her dropped her glass. Absorbed in her own self-incriminating thoughts, she hadn't noticed as she entered the kitchen that someone was already there, seated at the table.
"Harry?" she asked, recovering from her surprise. "What are you doing?"
"Couldn't sleep," Harry answered, shrugging. "You?"
She hesitated. "Same."
There was momentary silence. Neither knew what to say to the other. Then Harry asked uncertainly, "Do you want to take a walk outside? Clear your head a bit? I could do with it."
Ginny looked at the window incredulously; even inside it was terribly chilly. Just as importantly, she couldn't help but wonder why Harry wanted to go outside. But she also knew that they wouldn't be able to go out of sight of the house without someone in the Order immediately turning up to escort them back, so it was likely they wouldn't be out for long. So after a minute, she nodded, and Harry's chair scraped on the kitchen floor as he stood. He was already bundled in a jacket and had his shoes on. She must have walked in just as he was getting ready to step out.
Slipping on a pair of slippers her mother always left by the back door, Ginny followed him out, and as she stepped outside, her eyes were immediately drawn to the dark sky, where she could see the constellation Cygnus rising in the east. Their breath became visible mist illuminated in the moonlight, and Ginny shivered. "Blimey, it's cold."
"D'you want to go back in?"
"No, I'm fine. Let's go."
The pair of them slowly walked out into the garden, neither saying a word for a few minutes, until Ginny asked, "So what woke you up?"
"I never went to sleep," Harry admitted. "Had too much on my mind. What about you?"
Ginny was quiet for a few minutes, uncertain she wanted to unload her problems onto him. But suddenly desiring to do just that, she answered, "Nightmare."
Harry observed her quietly, and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Perhaps it was because she hadn't talked about her dreams since she was twelve or thirteen, and certainly not to Harry, but Ginny was startled by the question. Somehow it had never really occurred to her to confide in Harry about it, about hearing Riddle taunting her for being weak on some—now most—nights, and sometimes during insecure moments during the day. Since the Chamber, she'd sworn never to show weakness of any kind, and she couldn't help but fear that she would do just that if she ever unburdened herself.
Unwilling to quite let go of this, Ginny shook her head. "It's nothing, really."
But she realised as she spoke, that not only was her statement categorically untrue, but also that Harry, judging from the way he scrutinised her, knew it too. She fidgeted uncomfortably, and looked back at the stars. But Harry said nothing, evidently not wanting to push her.
Finally, after a few minutes in awkward silence, Harry asked, "Knut for your thoughts?"
Ginny's laugh was hollow. "Surely they're not worth that much."
"Surely they are," Harry retorted, mildly exasperated.
Ginny paused, thinking, and looked back at the stars. "I was just thinking… they never change. Peaceful, not like down here."
Harry looked upwards too, nodding thoughtfully.
"Here everything's changing," Ginny continued, allowing a bit of sorrow to creep into her voice. "Even the summer weather. But at least the sky won't. Not unless Voldemort somehow finds a way to block starlight."
It was a thought that filled her with uncertainty, foreboding. She knew full well that Voldemort could hardly cause the stars to go out, but for some reason, even this absurd idea made her uneasy. She looked at Harry, who had assumed a stoic, resigned expression, a look she found disheartening and even terrifying, and something suddenly broke inside her. Before she knew it, she was talking.
"Ever since the Chamber," she said in a near-whisper, "I've had nightmares about the things Riddle said and did to me. And sometimes I've dreamed about things that didn't happen then, but could have."
Harry looked concerned. "How often do you have these nightmares?"
Ginny closed her eyes, trying to reign in her thoughts and emotions. Once she felt herself in control, she admitted, "All the time."
Harry nodded sympathetically. He understood; and Ginny realised that he likely would understand more than anyone else ever could. While his own experiences weren't the same as hers, he too had a personal history with Voldemort that ran deeper than the threat of death or torture. This understanding left her with sufficient encouragement to continue confiding in him, where in recent years she had confided in no one.
"He made me relive the attacks," she continued, looking away from him. "In the Chamber he made me watch everything he forced me to do. In these dreams, or if I'm too close to Dementors, I see myself setting that bloody snake on Colin or Justin Finch-Fletchley or Hermione…" She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "I felt his anticipation each attack, his hope that the attack would kill rather than merely Petrify. I felt him… and it felt as though… as though I…"
But she couldn't continue. Turning away from Harry, she buried her face in her hand, shivering violently. She didn't want to see his anger, empathy or whatever he was feeling, because it reinforced her own humiliation and shame, the bitter self-disgust she always felt when her past revisited her. But to her surprise, Harry immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. Ginny buried her face into his shoulder, forcing down the sobs that threatened to erupt from her. Instead she simply stayed there in his arms, allowing herself to accept his offer of comfort and sympathy.
Harry was silent, and Ginny wondered what his thoughts were, before returning to her own. But presently a growing numbness in her feet and toes reminded her of their surroundings, and she stepped back and looked at her watch.
"I'm bloody freezing," she said to Harry. "And you probably are too. Let's go back in. And you should get some sleep."
Harry nodded. This special moment, whatever it was, had passed. Together they went back to the house, but the short walk seemed to take an age. As Harry opened the back door, however, and started to step inside, Ginny reached out and took his arm, holding him back.
"Thank you for listening," she murmured, wishing she didn't sound like she had a head cold.
Harry smiled. "I'm here if you need me."
"But you won't be in a few weeks."
Ginny then winced. She hadn't meant to say that, but she couldn't help but feel his coming absence. Despondent, Harry responded, "I wish that weren't true. I wish you could come with me."
"I know you do," Ginny whispered. "I wish that too, but I know how it is."
He nodded and stepped back inside. She followed and silently closed the door. As she started back for the stairs, however, she became aware that Harry was still watching her intently, and she looked at him apprehensively.
He took a deep breath. "No one blames you for what happened, Ginny. Whatever he might have told you, what happened that year wasn't your fault. It was his."
Ginny shook her head bitterly. "I wish I could believe that."
She could tell her words saddened him, but he said no more. They simply stared at each other momentarily, and then Harry stepped before her and reached forward, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Then, to her surprise, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. He drew back, and gave her a gentle smile, which she tentatively returned, before stepping away and heading for the stairs, pausing only to bid him good night.
The next day, if Harry and Ginny both had pale, sleepy faces and dark bags under their eyes, nobody commented or seemed to notice. Hermione was engrossed in the morning Prophet, and Ron, as usual, wolfed down his breakfast as Molly quietly cleaned up nearby. These, and Harry and Ginny remaining in fatigued silence, allowed the Burrow a quiet morning. Once he finished eating, Harry joined Ginny and Molly in washing dishes, but nobody said much.
Hermione looked increasingly uneasy as she read through the paper, which Ron noticed once he had eaten his fill.
"What's up?" he asked.
Hermione looked up in surprise, and put the paper down. "Nothing."
"Did you wake up with your face frozen like that, then?" Ron asked.
"No, seriously, nothing," Hermione said, and then clarified, "I mean nothing bad has been reported. No Death Eater attacks, no disappearances, nothing. Same as it's been every day since the funeral."
At this, Ron returned her uneasy expression. "Yeah, it's a bit dodgy. You'd think You-Know-Who'd have done something by now."
"I'm sure it's nothing serious, dear," Molly said calmly. "No news is sometimes good news, after all."
In spite of her casual tone, Harry noticed that her eyes had flicked to the family clock, and then out the window, where they could distantly see Mad-Eye Moody checking the wards at the borders. He caught Ginny's eye, but she shook her head and continued scrubbing dishes, leaving Harry to return to his own work without comment. Molly's demeanour had left him convinced that neither she nor any of the rest of the Order would be very forthcoming about the real reason, whatever it was, for the Death Eaters' oddly quiet behaviour since Dumbledore died. Whatever she said, however, none of the four teenagers were convinced that it was nothing to worry about.
If Molly's obviously forced calm wasn't a dead giveaway, what happened next was.
Harry had just finished putting away the frying pan when a tawny owl he didn't recognise flew through the kitchen window, dropped a letter onto the table, and settled on the aforementioned clock. When Ron moved to pick up the letter, however, Molly rushed forward and cried, "Wait! It could be dangerous!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all started at the unexpected exclamation. Ginny said in a placating voice, "Mum, they're constantly screening our post for anything dodgy. It wouldn't have got through if it contained anything dangerous."
Molly reddened a little, but said nothing. Taking this to mean he could touch the envelope, Ron picked it up and looked at the seal.
"It's from Gringotts. For Harry."
Harry frowned as he took the letter. "What on earth do they want?"
"Probably that thing they send everyone about to turn seventeen. About opening a vault. I got one too, not that I have any money to put in a Gringotts vault," Ron added uncomfortably.
Harry broke the seal and shook the letter from its envelope.
Dear Mr Potter,
We congratulate you on your coming of age on the 31st of July, and management of your family estate will be transferred to you on this day. To review your assets, and to answer any further questions, we would like you to meet with your accountant on the 24th of July at eleven o' clock.
Please be present at Rok Grimrook's office at that time. If this does not meet with your convenience, please let us know immediately. Return our owl with a reply.
Sincerely,
Menger Gadlak
Assistant Manager
Harry looked at Molly. "When exactly is Bill's wedding?"
"The twenty-sixth of July." Molly frowned at him. "Why?"
"I'm supposed to meet with an accountant on the twenty-fourth," Harry explained.
Molly glanced at the clock again, and Harry braced himself. Sure enough, she shook her head firmly and said, "It's too dangerous for you to go into Diagon Alley these days."
Ginny, also becoming wary, said quietly, "Mum, I hardly think that one trip to Gringotts will be"—
"No," Molly cut her off, her earlier agitation returning. "It's too public. Anyone could be in the crowd."
She did not seem put off by the others' increasingly astonished stare. Harry had seen Molly in various degrees of anxiety and caution, but he had never seen her so paranoid, and he found it unnerving.
"He could use the Floo Network," Hermione pointed out. "I'm sure that'd be"—
"I said no!" Molly snapped. "You'll have to postpone your appointment."
"Until when?" cried Harry indignantly. "This sounds important, and they want to deal with it before I turn seventeen. I don't care how dangerous it could be, I'd like to have access to my money, thanks!"
Molly stepped back, looking stunned. Harry had almost never talked back to her before. But he would not be swayed.
Ron, looking to defuse the sudden tension, quickly asked, "Mum, why can't someone escort Harry there? The goblins won't be happy if he ignores this. You know that."
"And frankly," added Ginny angrily, "it's his money and his right to decide this."
She glared at her mother, who looked of a mind to argue back, but she was cornered. None of the others were in accord with her on this, and Harry suspected that nobody else except perhaps Mad-Eye would be either. She was being unreasonable and she knew it.
Frustrated, she bit out, "Very well. But not without Bill or Mad-Eye with you."
"Fair enough," Harry said, relaxing. It was a compromise he could live with.
Molly, looking pale and upset, hung up her wash rag and left the kitchen.
"Bloody hell," Ron breathed. "You'd think the place was literally crawling with Death Eaters."
After nine o' clock, Diagon Alley was nearly deserted. Nobody lingered after dark there, not anymore. Nobody except those to be avoided. As he closed up shop, the proprietor of Flourish and Blotts briefly poked his head out his door, looked up and down the street, and then stepped back in and closed it. As he did, the door and windows momentarily glowed a purplish colour and then the doors sealed and the glass turned opaque; it was the magical equivalent to Muggle shops pulling down metal barriers in sketchy areas.
Other shops did the same. The street remained dark and silent. Briefly only the lights from proprietors' upper windows shone, but these were quickly obscured by slamming shutters followed by the same purple emanation, until the only smattering of light came from Gringotts.
In a small alley next to the bookshop, a hooded figure stirred from the shadows. He silently stepped into the dark street and looked around cautiously, before he set off in the direction of the bank, one hand buried in the pocket of his dirty, patchy robes, the other hand clutching a wand. He did not, however, look left or right as he made his way up the street, and he did not stop until he was near Gringotts, near the junction between Diagon and Knockturn Alley. Another hooded figure was waiting there, a large man in black robes with piggy, watery eyes.
"Yer late, Des," the man muttered.
"Late?" Des asked irritably. "Ain't easy getting' round Diagon Alley these days, Carrow. Aurors watchin' night an' day, 'specially Knockturn."
"Whatever," Amycus Carrow interrupted petulantly. "'Ave you got the potion?"
Des withdrew his hand from the pocket of his robes, revealing a phial with a lethal-looking black liquid.
"Yeh owe me big for the effort it took ter get that," Des growled, looking at Carrow's pockets greedily.
Carrow withdrew his wand warningly. "The Dark Lord owes yeh nothin' more than what yeh've been offered, sneak."
Des paled. "I din't know, sir. I won't ask nothin'."
"No," Carrow agreed with a sneer. "I don't think yeh will. Obliviate!"
Des's eyes dilated and glazed over. Confused, he blinked around at his surroundings. "Wha'?" Spotting Carrow, he asked in an oily voice, "Oh, good evenin', sir. Can I interest yeh in some protective amulets—oi!"
He stumbled as Carrow violently shoved him out of the way, pocketing the potion. "Outta the way, cur!"
Des hissed in annoyance, and motioned wildly with a rude hand gesture, but pointlessly. Carrow was already gone.
From a distance, the entire exchange was observed from a Gringotts window. Menger Gadlak could not hear their conversation, but he had seen the black market dealer suddenly recoil in fear from the larger man, who then struck him with some spell before retreating into the shadows. The dealer, seemingly unharmed, retreated into Knockturn Alley, where Gadlak reflected, he likely would be arrested on sight by the patrolling Aurors, who had placed Knockturn Alley under curfew months earlier.
The younger Gadlak sipped a cup of tea. Unfortunately, it was not the first time in recent months he'd observed a shady exchange from a window of Gringotts. The Aurors, focusing on Knockturn Alley, occasionally slipped up when tracking down the illegal dealers and their Death Eater buddies when they chose to make exchanges in Diagon Alley, though admittedly this was rare. Still, Gadlak, or Mr Menger, as his employees sometimes called him to avoid confusing him with his father, chose not to alert the Aurors to what he had seen. There was no point. The Death Eater would be long gone by the time anyone arrived there.
Someone knocked on his door, and Menger granted them entry without turning around. He heard his visitor step inside and quietly close the door.
"I got your note," he heard Rok Grimrook say.
Menger turned around and showed Grimrook a letter. "From Mr Potter. He's confirmed the appointment."
Grimrook stepped forward and took the single sheet of paper, saying nothing except, "I see," before he perused its few lines.
"We also received a notice from the Ministry confirming my request for access to wand records," Menger informed him. "I hope you're aware that the Minister was not happy about granting that. We offered two hundred thousand Galleons to the Auror office in exchange."
Grimrook looked up in surprise. "Was that really necessary?"
"You tell me," Menger said grimly. "This plan of yours had better work. Can you pull this off without your client noticing?"
"It doesn't require an incantation," Grimrook assured him. "All I need is the wand in hand for a few seconds."
The assistant manager nodded in grudging acceptance. "Very well. I'll see to it that you have the necessary equipment in time."
"Thank you," Grimrook said.
Menger looked back out the window, at the now dreary, half-abandoned Diagon Alley. Grimrook, seeing his tension, joined him there and too looked out, but said little. Finally, the younger Gadlak looked at him and said sternly, "Let me be clear about one thing, Grimrook. I have managed this bank for fifteen years under my father's direction. He may be prepared to take extraordinary risks, and that is a quality that has often paid off, but make no mistake: I do not invest in anything unless it is based on a sound business practice."
Looking rather confused, Grimrook asked, "Is this going somewhere?"
Menger glared at him exasperatedly. "You're placing your bets on a not-yet seventeen-year-old human we know relatively little about. One who is being actively hunted down by another human"—
"If he can even be called that anymore," muttered Grimrook.
—"who is responsible for the deaths of at least nine hundred people… including your family."
Grimrook's expression quickly became stony.
"Are you absolutely certain you and Grobschmied can pull this off?" demanded Menger.
For a moment, Grimrook matched Menger's stern demeanour with grim determination. "I don't know," he said. "But we'll do our very utmost."
The other goblin brushed this aside. "Do you believe that Potter truly has it in him to do what has to be done?" he persisted. When Grimrook remained silent, Menger finally asked, "What are Potter's chances?"
Grimrook looked up, his face calm, but Gadlak could detect anxiety in his eyes. Grimrook hesitated, clearly not wanting to give his friend and supervisor no more than a straight answer, yet seemingly unwilling to actually utter the words. Then, as Menger Gadlak raised his eyebrows, equally determined to get an answer, Rok Grimrook looked away and admitted, "I don't know."
Commentary:
In my head canon, the prize money Harry won from the Triwizard Tournament was 10,000 Galleons, not 1,000. The reason for this change was if you look at the actual exchange rates of Galleons to pounds, found in the preface of "Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them", you'd find that 1,000 Galleons actually isn't that much money (about £4,930 or $6,640), and even in the '90s, I have a hard time imagining that this is even close enough to buy or rent premises and start a small business. 10,000 boosts this to £49,300 / $66,400, which seems more realistic. (In the mid 90's, the average house cost about £52,000 in the UK; with their starting investment, and the amount they probably were able to sell during the year before they finished at Hogwarts, it is far more believable that Fred and George could convince Gringotts to loan them the remaining amount.)
I also imagine that Fred and George have obtained more investors as their success becomes more obvious. Harry's early investment, while not enough to cover all their costs, was what made it possible to obtain loans and draw in investors.