Disclaimer: is this necessary by now? If so, I hereby reassert my non-ownership of the characters and settings herein. They belong to JK Rowling and Warner.

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Chapter 56: Responsibility

As good as his word, Hagrid took them back to the castle the next morning. The fine day of yesterday had worn out, and grey clouds were moving in from the north-west. They matched Harry's mood, which felt a little flat and definitely in need of some sun. Simon accompanied them as far as the gate of his paddock and whinnied forlornly as they left. Harry felt a little mean. It must be lonely for the poor horse out there – horses were social creatures.

"When the Blockade is ended we should find him a girlfriend," Draco said quietly. It was the first thing he'd said in a while. Harry hoped he wasn't regretting his mistletoe-induced confession from the night before. It wasn't like Harry could do anything more to assure Malfoy that he had no intention of betraying his confidence. He shrewdly guessed that Draco might be more worried about Harry's unintentional spilling of his secrets. Harry hoped he wasn't as stupid as every Slytherin seemed to think he was…

"Good idea," said Harry, conveniently forgetting that as soon as the Blockade was ended either Hogwarts would be under siege again (and they would be forced to hide Simon for his own good) or, in the happy event Voldemort was defeated, a certain tall, black, bad-tempered horse would be claimed by his owner, especially if that owner was a wizard.

Harry wondered if the charm in Simon's chest was a tracking charm. He hoped not – the longer they had Simon the better. Maybe they should hide him regardless of whether Voldemort was defeated or not. (Harry's mind conveniently shied around the issue of theft.)

They trudged wearily up the steps into the Entrance Hall. Hermione hurried off to hide the stone bottles ("…Of the dew we collected," she announced loudly in case anyone passing by was curious – Harry nearly clapped a hand over his face at her attempt at subterfuge. Hermione must be very tired; normally she wasn't nearly so clumsy) in her dormitory room, while the others veered right and into the Great Hall for breakfast. No-one felt inclined to bother getting washed up, although they were rather rumpled and a little dirty after spending the night outside.

They sat at the end of the Ravenclaw with Luna. Although the sight of Malfoy among the Gryffindors startled a few Ravenclaws, they were polite enough not remark on it too loudly. Snuffles took advantage of Lupin's popularity with this House and soon filled his belly on offerings. Up at the High Table Lupin seemed to be trying to catch his pale eye, but Snuffles appeared oblivious; his tail wagging as he made the rounds, graduating out from Ravenclaw to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and even accepting a roll, half a fried egg and some bacon rinds as well as pats from Trudi and her friends at the Slytherin table. Millicent ignored the dog, but after eyeing Draco for missing limbs and finding him not obviously damaged, she gave Harry a nod that in certain lights might be considered friendly.

Snuffles wagged his tail at her in passing. Harry noticed her hand pause over a scrap of bacon, but her jaw firmed and she continued her conversation with one of the seventh year girls from the Quidditch team.

Pansy, something gleaming in her eyes Harry didn't like, offered half a roll. Snuffles didn't take up the offer, to her quickly-masked displeasure.

"Don't worry, Harry. If she tries anything nasty with that dog I'll see to it she regrets it. Or, better yet, I'll tell Millicent on her." Draco smirked sunnily at Pansy and waved. She quickly averted her eyes, a faint blush rising in her cheeks and her lips pressing together. "But I think that dog is quite capable of taking care of itself," Draco finished, passing Ron the flagon of pumpkin juice he was reaching for.

There were gasps of shock from the table and the room went silent.

Draco blinked. "Oh, for… I haven't poisoned it, you know."

Ron grinned as he poured himself a goblet. "I didn't think you had. And thanks."

"You're welcome," Draco said, scowling. "And the only reason I'm being polite is because I'm scared you might set your little sister on me."

Ginny snorted pumpkin juice through her nose and dissolved into a fit of the giggles. Ron was laughing, too. Neville was finding it hard to keep a straight face as he handed a handkerchief to Ginny.

"What'd I miss?" Hermione asked, joining them. She'd taken the time to take a quick wash and brush the worst of the leaves out of her hair.

Ron reached over and disentangled a twig she'd missed. "You missed Malfoy and me not having a punch-up. The rest of Hogwarts is still getting over it."

"What?"

"The student body is stunned by a display of good manners," Draco said. "Youth of today, I don't know…"

"Not like it was when we were firsties, is it?" Ron said, shaking his head.

"No, you two were worse," Hermione said. "And at the beginning of second year I swear on my grandmother's grave I overheard McGonagall and Snape discussing tactics for preventing you two ever being in a room together without some form of adult supervision."

"He started it," Ron and Draco said together, then looked at each other in surprise. Muscles worked on their faces as they tried not to laugh – Harry guessed they weren't quite ready for any level of friendship beyond an armed truce.

There was a sound like a muffled sneeze. Snuffles had finished his breakfast rounds and was back sitting next to Harry's chair, crumbs flecking his muzzle and amusement sparkling in his eyes. Harry brushed the crumbs away but left the amusement – he hadn't seen it much there of late.

"Hagrid tells me you've been out collecting dew," came a soft voice from behind Harry's right shoulder. He jumped and turned.

Remus quirked an eyebrow down at him. "Did you have much success?"

Snape had used a mild voice like that right before he went into a spitting rage. Harry tensed. "Not too much, I'm afraid, sir."

Remus' smile was brittle at the formality. "Hagrid said it went well."

Harry shrugged. "We saw some unicorns and they seemed quite happy – I guess that makes things slightly more positive on balance, even if we didn't get quite as much dew as we'd hoped."

Remus scratched Snuffles' ears. "Were the unicorns in good health, Snuffles?"

Snuffles wagged his tail. He looked just like a dog pleased with attention from his master. Harry admired the act.

"You know, Harry, you've been spending a lot of time –"

"Ah, Harry," came a new voice. Dumbledore smiled down at the students, his eyes twinkling slightly more than they had been lately. Harry wondered if he'd received good news in one of the letters Draco had brought back. "I hope you didn't forget our appointment this morning?"

"Er, what time again?" Harry said. What appointment?

"Is now convenient? Sorry to interrupt your conversation with Professor Lupin, but I'm afraid I have to cover a class this morning, so it has to be either before or after classes."

"Uh, now's fine, sir."

"Excellent."

"Headmaster?"

"Yes, Miss Lovegood?"

"Can I have a key to one of the smaller potions laboratories? I want to try making up some new shampoo for Simon. His mane is getting a little oily." She gave Dumbledore a hard stare as if she was trying to impart the secrets of the universe.

Harry blinked. Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Neville exchanged astonished blinks among themselves. Only Draco seemed unfazed by Luna's reversion to Lunababble.

Dumbledore's snowy eyebrows raised. A small smile hovered in the corner of his mouth, but it might have been a snarl in his beard. "Oily, you say? Dear, dear. I wonder if it's all the magic that's been going on around him. It can do strange things to edge creatures, perhaps even trigger latent magic into becoming more active."

Luna beamed. "That's what I thought."

"Let me know how your research into the… ah… shampoo goes, Miss Lovegood. I find myself strangely interested in what results our equine friend might give, especially in light of his ease in acclimatising to our magical environment."

"Yes, sir."

"Good, good. Hagrid tells me the dew-gathering went well, and it should give enough for the third-year potions project I wanted to conduct." Remus frowned at Dumbledore's words and Harry hurriedly masked his surprise at how Dumbledore appeared to be covering for them. "Now, Harry, have you finished your breakfast?"

Harry choked down the last of his toast as he stood. Ignoring Lupin, he followed Dumbledore out of the Hall, up the stairs, and along the corridor to the gargoyle, which sprang aside at the password ('gobstopper'), and was then carried up the stairs and into the office where Fawkes chirped sweetly at the sight of Harry and flew over to sit on his shoulder.

"Hello, Fawkes," Harry said, stroking the soft feathers. He had a sudden thought. "Can Fawkes get through the barrier, sir?"

"No. Unfortunately Fawkes, being a purely magical creature, is unable to pass through it."

"Is that why a horse went through? With special shoes, of course?"

"Perhaps. But I believe Simon to be quite a special sort of horse."

"Aren't all horses like Simon?"

Dumbledore smiled and offered Harry a sherbet lemon. "Mr Malfoy was most kind to think of me," he said when Harry looked at them in surprise, having thought even Dumbledore would be out of sweets by now. "And no," he continued as Harry took one, remembering with a twinge the last time he'd sat here and been offered a sherbet lemon – Severus had looked at the sweets like they were poison; "Simon is a singular horse. I don't suppose he has done anything out of the ordinary lately?"

Like leaping through a magical barrier and rescuing me from a crazed dimension? Harry paused on the edge of lying. "I'm afraid that as I'm not really sure what ordinary horse behaviour is, I couldn't say."

"Ah." Dumbledore looked pleased. "I'll take that as a yes." His blue eyes twinkled like mad. "As you seem safe and sound and the last time you were in the Infirmary was when you were visiting Mr Malfoy in the wee hours of the morning, I can presume you and Simon have been taking good care of each other. I'm very glad of it."

"Sir?" Harry said weakly, not even considering asking how in Merlin's name Dumbledore had known he had sneaked into the Infirmary.

"I allowed you to look after Simon because I didn't think he would be a danger to you. And also because I didn't think you would be a danger to him. Remember, Harry, that this horse is here because of events beyond his control. A horse in a human world cannot by any stretch of the imagination be seen as a person in charge of his destiny. As those who control his life, it is up to us to keep him safe and consider his welfare in our dealings with him. We cannot in all good conscience take a creature like a horse – a creature with no free will – we cannot take Simon into the field of battle and make him face dangers and assume the consequences for choices of which he has no comprehension and thus no hope of making without risking damning himself. To do so would be to betray his trust in us – a trust he has given us without knowing or even caring whether we are worthy of it or not."

Harry reeled slightly in his seat, and not only because he'd had very little sleep. He felt like he'd just been given the harshest scolding he'd ever had in his life. Even Snape at his vilest hadn't left him with this raw, missing-layers-of-skin feeling he had now. "I wouldn't want to do that to him, sir," he whispered.

"Good. While I trust you absolutely with the safety of Hogwarts, I wish I could say the same about your regard to your own life… or your expectations that others are invulnerable."

"Voldemort is the only one attempting immortality," Harry replied stiffly, still stinging too much to be pleased (or terrified) by the implicit responsibility Dumbledore's words gave him.

"Quite."

"But I think you're wrong about Simon," Harry blurted out. "He thinks. I'm sure of it."

Dumbledore's face looked as sorrowful as Harry had ever seen it. "No, I'm afraid not, Harry," he replied softly. "Simon is a horse. As much as others might wish him to be something more, he is and remains a horse. A rather superb one, but still a beast that is limited by the parameters of its nature. It is cruel to expect more from him."

"But sir, I think he can make choices. I know he's very sure about the difference between right and wrong. Wrong gets you bitten." He rubbed his upper arm at memories which hadn't faded as fast as the bruises.

Dumbledore sighed. "Perhaps you are right. It would be a most gratifying honour for Hogwarts to boast the world's first philosophical horse. But until that is proven, I must ask you not to expect him to solve the riddles of the ages, and instead treat him like a creature that will follow you into danger simply because you ask it of him. You would not be the person I think you are, Harry, should you exploit trust like that. Now, about the Sickle in your pocket…"

Harry, already mentally staggering from what rang in his ears like a moral warning handed down from on high, felt the blood drain from his face. It was almost certain Dumbledore wasn't talking about money. He drew the Golden Sickle out slowly.

The blade gleamed in the morning sunlight. A blue spark the colour of Dumbledore's eyes shot around the edge so fast Harry thought he had imagined it. Dumbledore's eyes clouded a moment, and his hands gripped the edge of his desk until the knuckles whitened.

"Ah, yes; there it is," he croaked after swallowing several times.

"Are you all right, sir?" Harry asked. The headmaster was alarmingly pale.

"Yes, yes… it… my goodness, that was a… an intriguing idea of mine, hiding it thus."

"In the cup?"

"Yes. I trusted you would be the only one able to work that one out. And you did. Well, well. Very good, Harry."

"Your memory is back?"

"Oh yes. All of it." He winced. "It's been some time since I took a Bludger to the head… I seem to recall that being somewhat more pleasant. Possibly because I was rendered unconscious…"

Harry looked around. "Shall I call for a house elf?" A cup of tea looked needed at the very least, if not something stronger from Pomfrey.

"Allow me."

Dumbledore picked up his wand and in the next second a full tea-tray was sitting on a pile of marked Potions essays, steam issuing from a teapot which had fat yellow bees flying around the sunflowers in the porcelain. Harry watched as one bee bumbled up against the handle and zoomed off up into the lid. There was a pile of pumpkin pasties and macaroons and even – his eyes widened – marshmallow squares on a matching plate.

His eyes shot up at the headmaster, who was pouring milk into three cups. The cow on the jug swished her tail as the jug trembled in the headmaster's grip; Dumbledore wasn't recovering quickly from seeing the Sickle. Perhaps the marshmallow squares were just a coincidence. Harry picked up the teapot and poured. Dark brown tea – strong, just the way he liked it – streamed into one cup, part of the stream bouncing up and then down into the next cup, which in turn generated another arc of fragrant tea into the third. Harry twitched in surprise but didn't spill anything at the sight. Soon all three cups and a bowl Dumbledore had half-filled with milk were full, and Dumbledore was putting spoon after spoon of sugar into his cup. Harry took half a teaspoon of sugar for his own and wondered that Dumbledore's teeth hadn't all fallen out. He blew on the hot tea and the sunflower petals in the china rippled.

"I believe Miss Lovegood takes two spoons of sugar?" Dumbledore said.

"I… don't know," Harry said, feeling a little stupid. Shouldn't he know these little details? Was Luna who the third cup was for, or was Dumbledore off on a little mental jaunt of his own?

"Well, we shall just have to ask her. Go and let them in, Stephanie, there's a dear."

A vaguely familiar young woman in yellow robes curtseyed and moved from portrait to portrait and out of the room. She was back in a trice, Luna following, Snuffles at her heels. The woman in yellow robes winked at Harry before she sat down and picked up her needlework. He quickly looked away.

"One spoon or two, Miss Lovegood?"

"One and a half, please sir."

"Very good. Come, sit down. And Snuffles – did you have a nice night out in the Forest, my friend?"

Snuffles waved his tail gently and darted a slightly guilty look at Harry.

"It's all right," Harry told him. "How did you know we were out in the Forest last night, sir?" he asked Dumbledore.

"I didn't tell him," Luna said quickly.

"No, and I am glad you thought to tell Hagrid just in case something went wrong," Dumbledore said. "He did not tell me, before you ask. If you must know, I was out for an early stroll and met up with a centaur. He was concerned you had made it out of the Forest safely."

Which didn't explain how Dumbledore knew Luna had told Hagrid. Hogwarts held no secrets. It was amazing Harry had been allowed to keep the Sickle so long. He sighed and stared at the golden blade glumly.

Dumbledore was putting the bowl of milky tea down on the floor. Snuffles lapped at it thirstily and snapped up the macaroon Luna offered him.

Luna took another macaroon and dunked it primly in her tea.

"Marshmallow square, Harry?" Dumbledore's eyes had regained their twinkle, although the blue was more faded this morning.

"He only likes marshmallow if it's been set fire to and scorched beyond recognition of being a foodstuff," Luna said. She licked crumbs off her fingers.

Snuffles sneezed into his tea. It sounded suspiciously like a snigger.

"You must have been out for a very early stroll," Harry remarked. "Why didn't you join us?"

"I think my presence might have stifled certain developments," Dumbledore said airily. "More tea, Snuffles?"

Snuffles wagged his tail.

"That's a very clever dog," Luna said. "He seems to understand everything you say."

Dumbledore patted Snuffles on the head. "Dogs are very clever creatures."

Luna nodded. "Did I tell you about Simon?"

"His mane seems to be getting a little too oily and you want a room in which to do some experiments? I'm sure a little oiliness wouldn't do him any harm – it might even be a positive thing."

"It couldn't hurt to try developing some new potion to counter it."

"Horses are remarkably delicate creatures – you wouldn't want to try something he proved allergic to... and they are, perhaps, somewhat vain." Dumbledore stroked his beard and stared at Fawkes. "Simon wouldn't like it if, oh, for example, he found himself looking silly after someone had tried a potion on his mane that turned it pink."

"That might be going a little far," Luna said, her own eyes gleaming now with silvery fervour. Her spoon was about to stir through the bottom of her cup. "It's certainly something I should be mindful about."

She smirked. Harry shuddered at the sight – there was more he needed to know about Luna than how she took her tea. That smirk was definitely…

"Do you have a room in mind?"

"Yes, sir – one of Professor Snape's old rooms. He let me use it when I wanted to try making Mendeleev gloves…"

"Ah, yes, I recall I still have the letter from you father granting permission somewhere… What ever happened to the gloves you made?"

"I didn't make them. I got most of the way and then Professor Snape set fire to them."

"Really? That sounds a little extreme, even for Severus' teaching methods."

"Well, they were attacking us at the time."

"What a shame. All in a day's work for the Potions master, in that case. What ingredients do you think you will need?"

"I don't know yet. I suppose a key to the ingredients storage room is out of the question?"

"Yes, it is. If you would like to write a list for Professor Lupin, he can help you. Unless there is some reason for your not wanting his involvement?" he added as Harry and Luna exchanged unhappy looks.

"Well, Lupin has been –"

"Professor Lupin, Harry."

"Yeah, him… well, he's been a bit… um… lately."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Can you be more specific than 'um'?"

"He's turned into Snape."

Dumbledore didn't bother correcting Harry's second omission of a title. "In what way, Harry?" he asked gently.

"Well, he's… always angry at me…" Harry managed weakly "…and he keeps trying to, um, tell me what to do…" he really wasn't building a strong argument here "… and I've noticed even you have started treating him like Snape."

Dumbledore stilled, as did Luna mid-dunk of her second macaroon. "Really? How so?"

Damn, Harry was far too tired this morning – and that problem with his tongue saying the wrong things seemed to have resurfaced. Harry stared down at his cup of tea. He hadn't drunk enough to see any tealeaves, and Divination wouldn't have helped him get out of this one. Besides, the only Grim in the room was sitting at his feet staring up at him gravely. He shrugged. "Just… little things," he mumbled.

"He means the way you undermine him in front of the students," Luna said. She caught the soggy, over-dunked half of the biscuit in her palm before it could drop on the desk, and ate it out of her hand Simon-fashion and with such nonchalance Harry doubted she had any idea what she'd just said.

Dumbledore paused as Snuffles made a choking sound. "Do I, Harry?"

Harry shrugged wretchedly. "Er… Look, I'm only sixteen. Don't ask me about how to handle staff matters."

"Miss Lovegood?"

"I'm sixteen, too."

"You're fifteen," Harry said, and could have smacked his forehead for getting distracted so easily.

"My birthday was while you were back in time."

"Oh. Happy birthday. Sorry I didn't get you anything."

"Thank you. And all I wanted was you to come back safely."

Silence. Harry's ears were burning with a mix of pleasure and continued embarrassment.

Harry finished his tea. The clink of his cup on the saucer was the first sound other than a ticking clock and the soft rustling sounds from Fawkes, who was preening.

"Miss Lovegood."

"Sir?"

"Thank you for your observation."

Harry waited for the but.

It didn't come.

"When you reach my age it is easy to dispense advice to others, but far too difficult to listen to your own."

"Any age, I think, sir." She smiled.

Dumbledore managed a smile back. Harry was surprised to see real affection there instead of anger at her presumption.

"Quite right. I do, however, have high hopes of Mr Potter being the exception to the rule. You will keep in mind what I said earlier, Harry?"

"Yes, sir. And sir… may I keep the Sickle just a little longer?"

Dumbledore nodded – more to show he was thinking than as permission, unfortunately. "Are you planning on showing it to Professor Lupin?"

"At some stage I suppose I have to. He's the only one left with his memory still altered. I'd like to try getting it back into Helga's glasshouse, and he might have some ideas about that. Plus it's only fair for him to have his memory back."

"True. But make sure the Sickle is in a safe place in the meantime. There are stories about how powerful it is…"

"Yes, sir. Er… do you have a safe place for me to leave it?"

"Yes." Dumbledore looked at Luna. "Miss Lovegood, come back a little later and I will give you the key you need. The password is 'masquerade'. I trust you to go no further than would be allowed under other circumstances. I am trusting to your discretion, you understand. I expect you will find a safe place there."

"Thank you, sir. And sir…?"

"Yes?"

"You can't… hurry things along, can you? It's dangerous having… things like this."

Dumbledore sighed and stroked his beard. His hand still shook slightly. "I'm afraid that anything I do can only adversely affect matters. Some things are only able to be achieved from within."

Harry felt his scar wrinkle as he frowned in puzzlement. "What matters?"

"Harry, please keep me informed of what you are planning for breaking the barrier. I realise that you and your friends have already done a great deal and I do not wish to take your successes away from you, but there are those of us who wish to help. We cannot do so if you persist in mistrusting us."

"Well, I can't speak for the others, sir," especially Draco, and if he thinks I so much as hinted about what he told me last night he'll hang me by my intestines from Astronomy Tower, "but the last time I asked for help from others, I was told to go away and let the adults deal with things."

"Is that what I told you, Harry?"

He hung his head. "No, sir. In fact I don't think I thanked you for your help… and your trust… back then."

He felt it before he looked up and saw Dumbledore's warm smile. "My trust was never misplaced."

Harry swallowed and tried not to wriggle with embarrassment, as he always did when he got a compliment. After years with the Dursleys he doubted he'd ever be able to take compliments in his stride, let alone know how to deal with them graciously instead of appearing gawky or arrogant. "Thank you," he mumbled. "I just…"

"Wish history wasn't such a weight? Things that were destined to be could instead have been altered? As do we all." He patted Snuffles on the head. "If only we had the ability to mould history to our will. Wouldn't the world be a different place."

"Wouldn't we be in a lot of trouble, because Voldemort would be able to do that, too," Luna said. She popped the last bit of the macaroon in her mouth.

"Precisely. Your common sense is as refreshing as a summer breeze, Luna," Dumbledore said, sounding quite sincere instead of massively patronising as anyone else would have. Luna smiled back at him.

Harry tucked the Sickle back into his pocket. "Luna, do you have a place in mind for us to store this?"

"Yes. When I get the key. The closet in the little passageway?" she said to Dumbledore.

"That's certainly safe. And well-warded. If you intend to open it, even with the password, I would like you to make sure one person stands near the door to go and get help, just in case. I'd come myself, but I might prove more of a hindrance, as you know. Snuffles here is a fast runner. Make sure he's with you." His eyes twinkled down at the Animagus, who cocked one ear. "I'll get the key to you at lunch," Dumbledore promised.

"Thank you, sir."

"Feel free to come to me, Miss Lovegood. You know I am eternally interested in how Simon is getting on."

"Yes, sir. If it's any help, I think he's having a marvellous holiday. It's not like we really expect him to do any work or anything."

"No, merely rescue students on a semi-regular basis." He winked at Harry.

Luna's eyes widened. Something had tickled her sense of humour. "Oh. Well, looking at it that way, maybe you should put him on staff wages."

"I'll see what I can do by way of a peppermint allowance."

Luna grinned as she pushed her chair back with a screech that made Snuffles wince. "Come along, Snuffles. Bye, Fawkes."

Fawkes paused in his preening just long enough to warble a brief farewell.

As Harry stood to follow Luna and Snuffles out the door, Dumbledore said quietly, "And Harry…"

"Sir?"

"What I said about betraying Simon's trust – I speak from experience. Even when you deal with those who are not horses and who do have free will, it is possible to betray them utterly even without meaning to, simply because of your own foolish expectations and blindness to their needs. I would not wish you the burden of learning this in an applied lesson."

Harry swallowed. "Yes, sir. Thank you." He paused at the door. Just down the stairs, Snuffles had also come to a halt. Was he waiting for Harry? Although it was hard to tell due to all the shaggy fur, something about the dog looked strung as tight as steel cables holding up a bridge. Breathing a little harder and speaking softly in hope Snuffles and – especially – Luna didn't hear, Harry said, "Sir… were you talking about Severus?"

"Amongst many others, Harry."

Harry bowed his head. "Even now you've looked at the Sickle and you know that you did what you had to do or alter history, you can say that?"

There was silence. Harry kept his eyes down – he didn't want to see if Dumbledore looked as old as the weight of the silence implied.

Finally there was the whisper of a sigh. "I believe you will be late for class if you don't hurry along."

"Yes, sir."

Harry closed the door as silently as he could.

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